Of Liars and Thieves

by Gabriela Lavarello

  Finriel dragged herself away from Tedric and lifted her head.

  “Lorian?”

  “He’s not in here,” Aeden coughed, and more lake water spewed from her lips.

  “I … Find him,” Finriel wheezed, and pushed herself onto her hands and knees.

  “No,” Aeden gasped, but Finriel was already scrambling to her feet and moving around Tedric, who was relieving his stomach of lake water.

  Finriel reached a hand out toward the swirling portal when another swooshing sound interrupted her and a body fell from it. Finriel barely leaped out of the way before the body crashed onto the ground, and Aeden blearily watched as the entrance to the lake shrank until it disappeared with a faint pop, revealing sleek black stone in its stead.

  “He’s not waking up,” Finriel said, her voice now clear and thick with worry.

  Aeden forced herself to her feet, ignoring the fact that her entire body felt heavy and her bones ached for rest. She pushed away the worry that called for Tedric, who was now seated and watching her through thick, wet lashes. Her heart clenched at the sight of him, and she yearned to push his hair back from where it was now plastered against his forehead, the tips brushing over his eyelids. She wanted to wipe the water from his cheeks and be held in his arms again. But Aeden could not do those things, no matter how much she wanted to. It would be too risky, too dangerous to even entertain the idea of them together.

  She brought her attention back to Finriel, who was kneeling by Lorian’s head and working at the clasp of his cloak. “Here, let me help,” Aeden said, and came to kneel at the other side of Lorian’s head. It felt all too similar to their time fixing Tedric’s shoulder, and Aeden shuddered away the memory. The worry she had felt while she had held his head between her hands should have been the first sign to be careful with her heart.

  Aeden focused back on Lorian, his light skin gaunt in the dim light. She reached forward and gently pushed Finriel’s shaking fingers away, unbuckling the cloak in one simple movement. Finriel took up the soaking fabric and pulled it from Lorian, and his head lolled limply from the movement. Aeden took up his wrist in her hand with a prickle of worry, hoping that he was merely unconscious and nothing more. She pressed her index and middle fingers against the inside of his wrist and held her breath. A faint pulse moved against her fingers after a moment, and she let out a sigh of relief.

  “He’s alive?” Finriel asked, and Aeden nodded.

  “I’ll do my best to wake him up,” she said.

  “I can dry this,” Finriel panted, and hunched over Lorian’s sopping cloak.

  Aeden ripped her attention away from Finriel’s glowing hands and looked back down to Lorian, who hadn’t stirred. With still shaking hands, Aeden gently pushed Lorian’s shoulder so that he flopped onto his back. She brought her fingers under his nose, holding her breath until she felt his faint exhale upon her skin. With a silent prayer to Noctiluca, Aeden brought the heel of her palms against the center of his chest and pressed down, repeating the process quickly and with as much strength as she could manage. Aeden cursed at Lorian’s immobility, and again brought her fingers under his nose to see if his breath had strengthened. It hadn’t.

  “Wake up,” Aeden hissed, and Finriel turned to look at her with a questioning expression.

  Aeden ignored this, and set her jaw as she reached forward and gently took up both sides of Lorian’s face and tilted his head upwards. Her fingers still shook as she used her left hand to gently open his mouth slightly, the other hand pressing his nose closed. Aeden leaned forward and hid her grimace as she took in a deep breath and pressed her lips against his. She pushed her breath out into Lorian’s mouth then pulled away, rubbing her mouth against her wet tunic before turning back to the thief. She returned her hands to his chest and pressed down in quick pulsing motions.

  Lorian’s eyes flew open, and Aeden barely had enough time to fall onto her backside before the thief lurched onto his hands and knees and began to relieve his stomach of lake water. Aeden wiped her mouth again and silently thanked her late survival training master, who had taught her the simple trick of resuscitation many years ago.

  “Are you all right?” Finriel asked as she came to his side and wrapped his now dry cloak around his shoulders.

  Lorian nodded and took in a ragged breath, looking up to meet Aeden’s gaze. “Thank you,” he said. “I thought I was dead for a moment there.”

  Aeden smiled with a pang. “I’m thankful that it worked. I’ve never tried to revive someone like that before, only ever fake humans made of straw.”

  Lorian wheezed slightly. “I’m very thankful it worked then.”

  Aeden lifted herself to her feet and moved back to where Krete sat, again ignoring Tedric, who was now watching her with mingled curiosity and awe. She knew he likely hadn’t expected her to be able to do what she had done, and it was just another reason why she couldn’t allow her heart to grow any fonder. He couldn’t know the extent of all the things she could do.

  “I have just enough strength to either make a fire or dry all of our cloaks,” Finriel said, and Aeden looked at the witch, who was now seated next to Lorian.

  “Cloaks would be better,” Tedric replied. “A fire would be too telling to the dragons that we are here.”

  “I would appreciate my shirt and vest to be dried perhaps, as I don’t own a cloak,” Krete said, and Finriel outstretched her hand, gesturing for her companions to hand her their cloaks, and Krete his shirt and vest.

  After a few shivering moments, Aeden was wrapped in her now dry cloak once more, and she gave a relieved sigh as she leaned against the cave wall and let the warmth seep into her bones.

  “We must travel straight to Creonid after we’ve gotten the dragon,” Krete said, speaking quiet enough so that only Aeden could hear.

  “Yes,” Aeden agreed, “but I need to return to Proveria.”

  “Did you tell him?” Krete asked, gesturing toward Tedric’s hunched figure with a jut of his chin.

  Aeden shook her head, and an awful combination of dread and butterflies swirled in her stomach. Krete didn’t have to ask if she was going to tell Tedric, for she knew that he was aware that she wouldn’t. How could she when it would ruin everything?

  She let the dim light of the cave settle her nerves, and she looked at the two dark tunnel entrances directly ahead and slightly to the left of where she sat. She wondered which one of those tunnels they would take to find the dragon, and if one of those tunnels would possibly lead to their demise. She nibbled on a piece of bread Krete had handed her from Tedric’s satchel, but she found that her stomach still felt too turbulent to manage much of anything. Krete fit his worn hat back onto his head with a satisfied smile and bit into an apple with a small grimace.

  “Map,” Tedric grunted, interrupting Aeden’s thoughts with a jolt.

  She watched as Tedric shuffled toward Finriel, who in turn cracked open an eye to watch the commander wave the map he had kept in his satchel in her direction. The parchment crinkled as she took it and rolled it out upon the ground. Aeden forced herself to stand up, and she and Krete shuffled over to look at their position within the mountain.

  According to the map, they seemed to be fairly close to the next creature. Aeden gulped as the prospect of attempting to make a fire-breathing dragon go into a piece of paper went through her mind. That, as well as all of the things that could possibly go wrong along the way.

  “It looks as if we need to take the passage straight ahead,” Aeden said, trying to manage the shake in her voice.

  Krete shook his head. “If we take the passage to the right, we’ll get to the dragon faster.”

  “There’s no way for you to know that, the map doesn’t tell us the fastest route.”

  Krete sighed. “Aeden, I was born inside of a mountain, I think I would know how to navigate one a little better than a fairy.”

  “He’s got a point, you know,” Tedric commented. Aeden bristled and shot him a glare, but he only shrugged i
n return.

  “Well, what do you two think?” Aeden asked Finriel and Lorian sharply. “Trust the mountain guru or the person who actually knows how to read a map?”

  Finriel glanced at Lorian with a questioning look. He still looked pale and slightly sick, but attempted a smile.

  “I like the ring of mountain guru better. I would probably choose his underground tour over, well, whatever you said,” Lorian said.

  Aeden huffed and tugged at her wet braid. “Fine, let’s go your way, Krete.”

  Krete smiled with satisfaction and motioned for everyone to follow him.

  “The mountain guru always wins.”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  27

  Lorian

  Lorian wasn’t sure how long they had been walking anymore, winding through the large mountain and meeting endless forks in their path as they went. Krete seemed sure of his way, and only hesitated for short moments before indicating the tunnels they were to take.

  Their trek through the mountain had been very calm, almost too calm considering they were walking through the legendary dragon birthing grounds. But there was only silence. No growls, rumbles, squeaks, or otherwise. Lorian couldn’t ignore the feeling of wary discomfort that tickled his skin, as if at any moment a dragon would burst through one of the many connecting tunnels and drown them all in a wave of fire. Granted, he had encountered many of the scaly creatures in his time, and he had to admit that he wasn’t looking forward to meeting one again.

  “I wonder if this dragon of ours will be embellished in any way,” Lorian mused, his voice bouncing off the rounded walls.

  “It’s a black dragon, I would say that’s embellished enough,” Tedric said. “I’m not sure that it could get any worse than that.”

  “Maybe he’s very nice,” Krete offered, and Lorian snorted.

  “The nicest dragon that I have met offered to turn my bones into toothpicks instead of just eating me whole.” Finriel shot him a questioning look, and he shrugged. “Another long story on the list of many.”

  Tedric ignored their conversation and called to Krete, who was walking slightly ahead of Aeden at the head of the group. “How close do you think we are to the dragon?”

  Krete stopped and pointed at the black stone before them. “Well, if the map was showing me correctly, the dragon should be just across this wall of stone.”

  “But it’s so quiet,” Tedric whispered. “Dragons are loud, violent, and … Dragons.”

  Krete shrugged and returned to his inspection of the map. “Maybe the storyteller made it a mute.”

  “That would be a lot less annoying, yet also terrifying,” Lorian answered.

  Everyone muttered in agreement and continued to follow Krete as the gnome rounded the wall he had indicated. Seconds later, what sounded like a rain shower of thousands of small stones came from behind the wall, and Lorian paused mid-step.

  “Is there someone there?” A menacing voice vibrated through the tunnel, and another small shower of stones sprinkled to the ground.

  Lorian froze and watched as Tedric and Aeden stiffened in front of him, taking each other’s hands in a seemingly unconscious movement. His stomach lurched as Krete came back into view, a look of horror plastered on his face as he ran as fast as his short legs could manage. He slashed a hand through the air, indicating for them to hide.

  “I said, is there someone there?” the terrible voice asked again, a growl mixing at the end of its words. Soon came the loud stomping footfalls, making the entire mountain shake with each step the dragon took.

  Lorian whirled around and frantically searched for somewhere, anywhere, that could be acceptable enough for them to hide. Krete zipped past him and Finriel, jabbing a stubby finger toward two outcroppings of rock on either side of the smooth passageway. Lorian cursed before grabbing Finriel’s hand and dragging her behind one of the outcroppings. Aeden and Tedric ran and squeezed next to Krete behind the outcropping across from Lorian and Finriel.

  “I smell flesh, but from beings who do not share the same blood,” the voice continued, now right behind them. Seconds later, a long green scaled nose came to hover in between the two outcroppings of rock, blocking Lorian’s view of Krete and the others. Lorian kept his gaze trained upon Finriel, who stood petrified as the nose inhaled and then exhaled slowly, hot breath sending her braid flying back against the wall. Their hands were still joined, and Lorian kept a firm hold on her cold skin as she inhaled sharply.

  “It is young flesh, yes, and perhaps very tasty for my newborns to feast on for their first meal.”

  The dragon’s nose slid forward and past them. A golden eye, the size of Finriel herself, came into view, and the cat-shaped iris pulsated as it adjusted to focus on her and Lorian. Another deep exhale from the dragon sent hot stinking air against them, and he fought against both a gag and a terrified shiver.

  “Oh, how disappointing your sizes are,” the dragon growled. “I guess I will just have to scare you. I know that most differ, but I find that adrenaline always makes the meat taste better.” With a reptilian blink, the eye retracted once more until not even the snout was in view.

  One word was all the companions needed.

  “Run.”

  Lorian didn’t have time to even blink before Finriel wrenched her hand from his and flung out her arms toward the dark rock above the dragon’s head. With a grunt, she made a sharp downwards movement, and large shards of rock cracked and fell, landing upon the dragon’s head with sickening thunks. The emerald green dragon let out a pained roar and reared its head upward, momentarily dazed by the rocks that had fallen atop its body.

  “Move, now!” Finriel roared, and dashed from behind the outcropping of rocks and ran between the dragon’s legs and out of sight.

  Lorian shoved himself away from the outcropping with a curse and slipped underneath the dragon’s enormous clawed feet and dodged around its wildly thrashing tail. At least it doesn’t have spikes, he thought. Krete, Aeden, and Tedric appeared behind him a few short seconds later, and Finriel yelled at them from the bend that Krete and the dragon had appeared from moments before, “Let’s go!”

  “Go through the tunnel to the left!” Krete yelled at Finriel, and Lorian forced his legs to go faster and catch up to her as she ran through the mouth of the leftmost tunnel that loomed ahead.

  Lorian’s tired lungs burned as he and his companions ran blindly through the winding tunnels of Dragonkeep with the enormous green dragon at their heels. The natural light pulsing from the stone seemed to be dimming as they wound deeper into the mountain, and soon he was squinting in order to be able to see even one step in front of himself. The ground shook beneath them with each footfall the dragon took, and he could tell from the stinking heat on his neck that it wasn’t too far behind. They wouldn’t be able to run forever.

  “What do we do?” Finriel yelled breathlessly at Lorian’s side, their shoulders bumping against each other as they felt their way through the darkness.

  “Over there; I see daylight!” Krete yelled from behind them.

  Lorian looked around wildly, and soon enough, spotted warm light spilling onto the dark stone floor only a few hundred feet ahead. Going back out into the open could prove perilous, but at least they would have more space to run. Lorian pushed his legs to go faster, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

  “Fire!” Tedric’s voice rang out behind them, and Lorian didn’t think as he grabbed Finriel around the waist and pushed her to the ground with his own body, pain shooting through his knees as they cracked against the stone. A loud burst sounded behind them, followed by singeing heat over Lorian’s entire back and head. He smelled burning clothing and hair, and Finriel cursed as the fire licked across her neck. Lorian roared in pain, and Finriel ripped her hands free and pushed them outward. A thin shimmering light surrounded them, and the heat decreased moderately until it completely went away.

  Lorian rolled off her, groaning in more shock than pain. Finriel scrambled up and examin
ed his body, and he forced himself to sit up as she looked at him wildly. Aside from his cloak and the ends of his hair being singed, he felt okay.

  “Lorian, why in the Nether—”

  “There’s more of that coming, get up!” Tedric bellowed as he, Aeden, and Krete sprinted past them and rounded into the brightly lit room ahead.

  Lorian felt Finriel’s hand grasp around his as she hauled him up to his feet. Indeed, the dragon was coming closer, orange heat rising up through the transparent membrane between its scales. They got to their feet and leaned into each other as they ran the rest of the way into the bright opening of the passageway. They were so close to getting out into the open, and Lorian’s legs pumped faster as they crossed the last few steps into the light.

  The sight that met Lorian’s eyes made his gasping breath leave him completely. He stood in shock next to Finriel and their other companions, who also appeared to be paralyzed by the room in which they now stood. Lorian did have to give a blink of appreciation at the hoards of crystals and enormous uncut gemstones that littered the room, for it was a thief’s dream. Yet it was not the brilliant kaleidoscope of gemstones and crystals that glowed vibrantly and sent rainbows of color bouncing across the high cave ceiling. It was the large black dragon that gazed at itself through what appeared to be a giant hand mirror made of white crystal. Lorian allowed for his gaze to travel upwards, and found a large opening in the center of the cave that gave way to a sunset orange sky. That would have to be their only way out.

  “Oh, dear, being stuck in this dark mountain has made me so pale,” the dragon said in a low, grumbling voice.

  “Did the dragon just say that he was pale?” Tedric asked, but Lorian found that he for once had no words of reply.

  An earsplitting roar sounded behind them, the vibration sending a few large gemstones tumbling from an especially large mound, cracking as they hit the hard stone floor. Lorian cringed and turned to face the menacing green dragon that scrutinized him and his companions hungrily.