Legends of the Lurker Box Set

by Richard H. Stephens

  The forested glen was so dense that the pool of water was the only place wide enough to accommodate Queen Askara’s bulk. Settling near the shoreline, the queen knelt to allow Reecah to vault to the plush bank.

  Looking around in wonder, it was hard to fathom such a place existed amongst all the barren wilderness.

  “This is my happy place. Inaccessible to anyone without wings. Well, almost anyone. I’ve devoured the odd troll who had taken liberty to drink from this pool at night. It’s amazing how the filthy creatures can climb. Other than tasting gamey and tough, their presence isn’t such a big deal.”

  Reecah’s face scrunched up.

  “Ah yes. Humans have such a limited palate.”

  Not knowing why the queen had brought her here, Reecah removed her bow, quiver, rucksack and quarterstaff, along with Grimelda’s staff from her back and laid them on the ground; thankful to be free of the burden. Clutching her staff, she held it out for Queen Askara to see. “High Wizard Devius thinks you may be the only one alive who can show me how to use this.”

  As soon as she planted the staff on the ground, the ruby gem shone glacier blue; matching Queen Askara’s eyes. Identical coloured runes lifted the shadows of the trees overhead. A swarm of gnats buzzed around the staff—their tiny bodies shimmering in the magical light.

  The queen lowered her head and examined the staff with one eye. “That’s why I sensed the Dragon’s Eye when I probed you earlier. I thought it had to do with your Windwalker heritage. I should have known better. It has been a long time since I’ve been in the presence of one of the eyes. Stranger yet, I sensed both of them in you. The light and the dark eyes have never been together since the disappearance of Viliyam Windwalker.”

  Reecah gaped. Trying to keep her hands from shaking, she dug through her rucksack. Pulling her journal from the pocket of her old cloak, she held it out for the queen to see.

  “Ah. So, I’m not losing my mind. One is a rare find. How have you come into possession of both?”

  “Through my great-aunt, Grimelda.”

  “Grimelda who?”

  “Grimelda who! Grimelda who!” Raver dropped from the sky and landed on the staff’s head.

  Reecah had never thought about the old witch having a last name. If she did have one, it would likely be the same as Grimelda’s mother, Katti. “Windwalker, as far as I know.”

  “Another one? Is she still alive?” Hope permeated the queen’s voice.

  A profound sadness filled Reecah. “No. She died a few years ago. If I’m not mistaken, her essence lives on in this staff.”

  “May I hold it?”

  Reecah was surprised by the question. How could she deny Queen Askara anything? “Of course.”

  The queen lifted a dripping foot from the water and wrapped her talons around the staff.

  Raver squawked and flew to a low hanging bough.

  Lifting the staff close to her face, Queen Askara closed her eyes; her body subtly rocking back and forth as if in a trance.

  The light reflecting beneath the canopy of elm trees and glistening upon the water slowly changed from ice blue to bright red to deep crimson. Amazed, the progression of the runes and the Dragon’s Eye mesmerized Reecah. The queen was manipulating the staff.

  Time stood still as Reecah patiently waited for Queen Askara to speak again.

  The sun moved across the sky on its eternal westward march but there was no sign of the queen coming back from wherever her mind had gone. Raver bobbed about the long grass, inspecting nooks and crannies in the loam.

  Devius had mentioned similar soul-searching occurrences were common in the most adept practitioners of the arcane—magical time-outs, he had affectionately called them. Seeing someone undergo one of these time-outs, however, proved disconcerting.

  Sweat glistened on Reecah’s exposed skin. The suede wizard’s garb Devius had provided her wasn’t practical in warmer climates. Nor did it afford her the same freedom of movement she had grown used to.

  Considering her reflection in the relatively glassy water around Queen Askara’s gently rocking body, Reecah didn’t like what she saw. The tunic made her look different. Important like. Turning up her nose, she decided that she didn’t care to stand out amongst the crowd. As far as she was concerned, she was simply Reecah Draakvriend. Always had been, and she had no desire to change now.

  Growing up, she had fantasized she was someone of import—someone the villagers would look up to and respect. If someone had asked her last year whether she still fancied that notion, she would have likely said yes. But that was before Lurker. Before she had found her true self and learned to appreciate who she really was. The granddaughter of Viliyam Draakvriend.

  It was time to assert that claim. Unconsciously searching the glen for anyone who might be watching her, she admonished herself. Apart from the annoying insects and the comatose dragon queen, there wouldn’t be a soul around for twenty leagues.

  It felt good to slip the heavy suede over her head and feel the breeze blow through her shift, but it felt even better when she pulled her old tunic over her head and cinched her brown cloak around her waist. The material flowed freely with her every move—its material able to breathe.

  She found the thin leather thong she used to braid her hair and set to work twining it the way Grammy loved to do—starting over her left brow and working the strands into a tight braid.

  There was just one more thing she had to do. When she returned to Draak Home, she would reclaim the sword belt Junior had been good enough to carry for her.

  The sun had dropped low in the sky, bathing the hidden glen in deep shadow, before the red glow from her staff clutched in Queen Askara’s front foot reverted to ice blue. The dragon’s eyes flicked open.

  Reecah had sat down against a tree trunk long ago, tending to the care of her weapons, but the sudden change in atmosphere made her jump to her feet.

  Queen Askara examined the staff as if she had just seen it for the first time. Blinking, her gaze fell on Reecah. “Ah. Was I gone long?”

  “A little while. I was getting worried.”

  The queen smiled and lowered the staff. “Your wizard’s stick, Miss Reecah Draakvriend Windwalker. It takes a great deal of energy to invest the magic of the dragon into a staff. It has entwined itself around Grimelda and your spirit animal’s essence.”

  “My spirit animal?”

  “The raven.”

  Reecah located Raver on the shoreline taking a drink. The raven’s significance on her life had been remarkable but she never once considered her little friend as anything more than her close companion. She shook her head.

  “Raver is as much a part of the magic in the staff as Grimelda and you. His contribution is not to be taken lightly. He represents nature. Without his influence in the transfiguration spell, the infusing of dragon magic would not have been possible.”

  Raver lifted his head from the water and shook it. He cocked his head. “Possible! Possible!”

  “You see? He’s attuned to you.” The queen raised her head and sniffed at the air. “The season is changing. Despite your emergence, I sense the time of the dragon is drawing to a close.”

  “Don’t say that, my queen. I’m here. I’ll find a way to make it right.”

  “A laudable sentiment. I thank you in advance for the sacrifice that will be expected of you in the coming days, but I have lived a long time. I have developed an acute aptitude of predicting when something catastrophic is about to happen. Much like you can predict the coming of a storm by the signs you read. A darkening of the skies. A cooling of the air on the edge of a strong breeze. The quietening of the forest. So, too, can I predict the changes to the world around us.”

  “But you can’t just give up.”

  “Nobody said anything about giving up, my child.”

  The queen’s use of ‘my child’ sent shivers up Reecah’s spine. She sounded just like Devius. Not sure where her thoughts were taking her, she couldn’t help but ask, “You r
eferred to me by my family name, Draakvriend. How do you know that name?”

  The queen’s kindly eyes filled with compassion. “That is a long and painful story. Let me try to explain it to you quickly. It has been over two decades since the last delegation from Dragon Home visited Draak Home. In that delegation was a green dragon. One who bore the sad news of your father’s death. That dragon was Lurker’s mother.”

  A new wave of chills rippled goosebumps along Reecah’s arms.

  “Yes. Grimclaw’s mate. We were asked to intervene on behalf of Marinah Windwalker as Grimclaw suspected the newly crowned king was in the process of eliminating what he referred to as the dragon threat.

  “Being cloistered far to the east, I deemed that the old temple guardian was more than capable of handling the protection of a human. One who I was told was only a minor Windwalker—one whose potential would never be fully realized. And so, I refused Draak Home’s request.

  “Short-sighted as that may have been, I believe in the long run, it turned out to be a fortuitous decision on my part.”

  Reecah grappled with the underlying insinuations of the queen’s words. Grimclaw had requested help to save Marinah from the high king but the dragon queen had refused. Trying hard to keep her temper in check, Reecah asked, “You believe the murder of my mother to be a fortuitous decision?”

  “Spoken like that, no.”

  Incredulous, Reecah’s voice rose. “What other way is there to say it? Grimclaw needed your help and you refused? My mother’s death was the result!”

  “Please, hear me out.” The queen’s melodious voice kept its level. “What happened to your mother could not have been prevented. If we had intervened and you had remained in the picture, you would be dead. Your great-grandmother came to me before she died and explained what needed to happen to secure any chance of the Windwalker heritage. She left in tears, knowing full well the heart-ache and death that would transpire in order to make that happen. Viliyam and Lizzy watched over you as soon as you were born. They changed their last name and built the hut on the hill with the hope of keeping away from prying eyes. Your mother’s death secured your life as long as King J’kaar never became aware of you.”

  Reecah shook her head. It made little sense. “What of my mother’s pregnancy? She couldn’t have hidden that from the king’s eyes.”

  “Alas, another dark chapter in our scheme to preserve the dragon colonies. Upon your mother’s death, a baby was found to take your place.”

  “Take my place? Where is that baby now?”

  “Buried with your mother.”

  Reecah’s words stuck in her throat. Someone had sacrificed an infant so that she might live. What kind of monster would do something like that? The very idea made her sick to her stomach. She shook her head continuously as she paced back and forth in front of the queen of dragons; caring little for the tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “If it’s any consolation, the baby had died of the pox—totally unrelated to the efforts your mother and uncle were trying to implement. Your grandfather convinced the grieving mother that her baby’s death would serve a greater purpose.”

  Stunned, Reecah staggered backward, her mind reeling. Queen Askara implicated both of her grandparents in the conspiracy. Poppa, perhaps, but not Grammy. Grammy had fought against everything to do with the…

  It was as if a candle had suddenly been lit in the dark recesses of her mind. Grammy had played her role perfectly. Up until the day she died, she had vehemently pretended to despise dragonkind and magic. Along with Poppa, she had given up a normal life to shelter her granddaughter from the king—choosing to live out her life in a small cabin outside of town. Ousted and shunned by most of the villagers. All without ever showing any sign of regret or bitterness.

  Poppa and Grammy had endured all of this out of love for their daughter, but Reecah didn’t doubt for a moment her grandparent’s love for her. Though she didn’t remember much of the man who had influenced who she had become, she remembered the way Poppa’s eyes used to light up in her presence. It had filled her with a carefree happiness she hadn’t known for a long time now.

  Though she had no way to prove it, she knew Grammy and Poppa had taken part in her binding. She could only imagine what else they had done to her. Thinking back on it now, keeping the knowledge of her gift from her had been harder on Poppa. He was the dreamer of the two. He probably couldn’t bear the fact that he had stolen something so beautiful as the gift of dragon magic from his Little Poppet.

  “Reecah?”

  The question sounded repeatedly through her head. Wiping away her tears, Reecah climbed out from the well of darkness her mind had fallen into.

  Sitting within a large pool of turquoise waters, the majestic form of Queen Askara patiently willed her back to the here and now.

  “Come, my child. Let us take advantage of the little time we have left to teach you the way of the dragons.”

  How Great the Fall Can Be

  “My queen. You must awaken. The time has come.”

  Reecah opened her eyes, waking from a strange dream of the world splitting apart and swallowing everything of beauty. The sight of Lightburn splashing into the pool of water behind the prone body of Queen Askara startled her groggy mind. The early morning chill made her shiver as the queen withdrew the warmth of the wing Reecah had fallen asleep beneath.

  The queen had crawled onto the edge of the catch basin to be free of the water long before nightfall and had settled into an intense melding of the minds with Reecah—imparting things she told Reecah would take years to make sense of. History and old battles, the Windwalkers and the Wizard Wars. All imparted as if within a trance.

  Not all of the queen’s teachings had been so profound. She had also shown Reecah the proper way to channel her dragon magic, transforming her latent energy into physical spells that required little to no thought to employ once Reecah allowed her mind to instinctively let the magic flow through her.

  By the time they had drifted off late in the night, fire and ice were simple spells that Reecah could conjure with barely a thought. Learning to channel the power through her staff intensified the spell’s strength. With the queen’s teaching, the essence of the staff’s magic flowed through her as easily as hers flowed through it.

  The queen rose to her feet, mindful of the tree limbs over her head. “The prince?”

  Lightburn growled, “Yes, my queen. He marches into the far end of Folly Canyon. He shall be in the valley before the sun hits the western horizon.”

  “Have you dispatched kill squads?”

  “Of course, my queen.”

  “Very well. Return to Draak Home and oversee its defense. The Windwalker and I shall be along in good time.”

  “Yes, my queen.”

  Two mighty wing flaps, a snappy change of direction, and three more great down thrusts and Lightburn disappeared beyond the northeast waterfall.

  “Before you gather your belongings, let’s go over everything I taught you last night. We cannot afford a mistake when the dark heir reaches the valley. Now that you’ve had time to reflect, do you think you’re up to facing the prince?”

  Reecah swallowed and said in a faint voice, “Yes, my queen.”

  What else could she say? The time for thinking had gone. They either defeated the prince or they died. At one point last night, she had suggested that the queen lead her dragons away from here, but Askara adamantly refused. Draak Home had existed for as long as time remembered. She wasn’t prepared to lose it now.

  “Alright. Summon your fireball.”

  Reecah did as she was bidden. A fireball as large as her head burst into existence above her upturned palm. She felt the difference of the fire’s heat on her face and through her tunic. Dragon fire burned at higher temperatures than ordinary flames.

  A sense of calm overcame her. She could do this. It was time to face her demons.

  Entering the valley from the east, the first thing Reecah noticed was the heighten
ed activity around the cluster of towers on the south ridge. From a distance, it was as if a swarm of gnats had descended on Draak Home; attracted to the late afternoon sunshine reflecting off its western face.

  “Drop me at the entrance to Folly Canyon. I’ll hold their advance for as long as I can while your dragons rain fire on them from the sky. Let’s see them defend against dragon fire from the sky and the ground.”

  Before they were halfway across the valley, Lightburn flew out to meet them.

  “What news?” Queen Askara sung a solemn melody.

  “Not good, I’m afraid, my queen. Three patrols have been sent out since this morning and only three dragons have returned.”

  “Three? Of how many?”

  “Thirty, my queen.”

  “That doesn’t bode well. Don’t send anymore. We’ll need them all if we’re to successfully defend their advance where the canyon narrows.”

  “Yes, my queen. That won’t be long now.”

  “Prepare the formations to hit them from all directions.”

  Lightburn veered off, taking a direct route to the towers. He looked back. “Are you not coming, my queen?”

  “I’ll be there shortly. Now go.”

  Reecah could see the hesitation in Lightburn’s flight but the faithful dragon did as he was instructed.

  “Remember. If they get too close, you’re to fall back to that solitary tower on the north ridge and take refuge within. I will leave instructions for your human friends to wait for you there. The tower walls will protect you from anything a wizard can throw at them. As for hand to hand combat, I pity any who come at you in a confined space. Especially with the Maiden of the Wood and a Sarsen Rest dwarf at your disposal.”