by Logan Jacobs
My weapons are in order, too, Tirian interjected telepathically. Look!
The small silver dragon floated up a few feet into the air, tilted his head to the sky, and unleashed a large puff of orange flames. Several of the leaves above were singed off their branches, and their ashy remains fluttered down all around us.
“Very impressive,” I chuckled. “Make sure you have that at the ready for the plague rats.”
I’ll gladly roast up a rat, Tirian proclaimed with a smug grin.
“So, now that we all have proper weapons in order, I think we should head out,” I announced. “Nadir? Lezan? Do you guys feel better now?”
“Oh, a million times better.” Lezan grinned. “I think we owe Malkey here a fresh boar all to himself when we get back to the island.”
I’ll take it! Malkey licked his lips with anticipation.
“You ready, Jonas?” I called back over my shoulder to the soothsayer.
The elderly dragonkin was just pulling himself down from the tree stump, and he moved with the grace and speed of a chairlift. Once his feet were firmly on the ground, though, he made his way back to the group.
So, after we all had ourselves collected, I looked to Ahwara and motioned for her to lead the way.
We followed the Morpho women for a few more miles, until we finally came to a spot where the jungle ceased to exist. Then we all stepped out into a giant clearing, where we came face-to-face with a giant ball of light brown material frothing up across the landscape.
The thing was big enough to be its own island, as it stood at least twenty feet tall and stretched on for as far as the eye could see, with the ocean off on the horizon.
That’s when it hit me. We were on the other side of the island, and this thing stretched all the way to its coast.
“This is it,” Ahwara declared as she swept her hand out. “Queen Dalwen’s palace.”
“Where?” Jemma questioned, and the long-legged woman stood on her tiptoes as she craned her neck. “Behind the giant mass of a cocoon?”
“Nope,” I replied. “That is the palace.”
“That… looks nothing like any palace I’ve ever seen before,” Sela admitted with a furrowed brow. “Where are the walls? The fortifications? Also, why is it a circle? You can’t have guards walk the perimeter if you don’t give them a flat surface to walk on.”
“Much like our own dwellings,” Ahwara elaborated, “Dalwen’s palace is made from our throatsilk. She is the only one of us who builds her cocoon in the same spot every single cycle, hence why her home is so large.”
“So, every time she puts herself into hibernation, she adds another room to the palace?” I asked. “It looks like she must have gone through hundreds of cycles. How the fuck are we going to find the one she’s currently in?”
“It won’t be as hard as you think,” Holara noted, and the purple-haired woman pointed toward the strange structure. “See how the colors are uneven? That’s because the older rooms grow darker as the season cycles march on. Wherever Queen Dalwen is, it will be a lighter-colored room.”
Jemma and I can fly up and check it out, Tirian offered. We can see way more from up above.
“Great idea, Tirian!” Jemma flattered her dragon as she looked over to the people who couldn’t understand him. “The two of us will take a vantage point from up above. That way we can look for the lighter-colored rooms and send you on the right path.”
“The last thing we want is to get lost in a labyrinth of rooms,” I agreed. “Especially if there are orcs inside who already know the layout.”
“Don’t any of you know your way around?” Mira asked the Morpho women.
“Sort of.” Ahwara shrugged. “As I said before, the queen creates a new room each time she goes into hibernation. So, yes, we know the general layout of the place, but the spot she chooses to hibernate in is completely random and changes every year. The only thing I know is it will be on the edge of the palace, since that is the only place where there is room for expansion.”
“Edges of the palace,” Jemma repeated as she threw her leg over Tirian’s neck and hoisted herself up. “Got it.”
The Niralope woman let out a shrill whistle, and Tirian took to the air. Then we watched them both soar up into the clouds before their shadow hovered down and remained just behind the cover of the puffy white formations.
Oh, boy, Jemma sighed telepathically. There are a lot of lighter-colored rooms, especially around the edges.
That made sense. If Queen Dalwen was expanding outward, the rooms located near the center of the palace would be the darkest, and anything on the outside would be light.
“Can you get in closer?” I suggested. “There’s got to be some color discrepancy between the ones on the perimeter.”
How light would a “new” room be, exactly? Jemma asked. And are there any other signs? Because there are two I see that are way lighter than the others, but they’re in two different places at opposite ends of the structure.
“Would there be any other indications of which room was newer?” I asked the Morphos. “She’s seeing two ‘new’ rooms on the opposite sides of the palace.”
The butterfly women all seemed to ponder the question thoroughly.
Honestly, we probably would be fine if we had to check on them both. Though we wanted to save the queen as quickly as we possibly could, it wasn’t like time was a factor on this particular adventure.
“The ridges!” Elzara exclaimed suddenly, and her brown eyes snapped open. “When a new cocoon is built, it’s very smooth. It’s only when it gets older that it starts to form the large, bumpy walls and ridges you usually see on them.”
“Queen Dalwen has been hibernating for quite some time,” Holara protested. “It’s not like her cocoon wouldn’t have any ridges at all.”
“Of course not,” Ahwara agreed, though her face was aglow with epiphany. “But the ridges would still be less pronounced than the one she created last cycle.”
“That’s going to be hard to tell from the sky,” Zerandrie mumbled. “Like really, really hard.”
“There’s also the door of awakening,” Ahwara reminded her friends.
“What door?” Mira demanded.
“It’s not a literal door,” the pink-winged pixie explained, “at least, not a door for us. It’s a small hole in the ceiling of the room that allows the sun of the hot season to shine down onto her cocoon. That’s what indicates to her hibernating body that it’s time to awaken, hence the name.”
“The ridges on the room will be smoother,” I explained to Jemma and Tirian via our mental connection. “Also, they’re telling me there should be a hole in the ceilings of the rooms. I don’t know how much that helps, but it’s something that might be useful to know.”
Oh, yeah. Tirian whistled. There are definitely holes all over these things.
I just thought it was part of the decaying process, Jemma admitted. I--Hold on… Ben, the newer room on the far left of the palace… It doesn’t have a hole in it!
My eyes narrowed as I pondered Jemma’s words and looked back at my crew.
“She says one of the newer sections of the palace doesn’t have any hole at all,” I communicated to the Morphos.
“That’s got to be the right one, then!” Ahwara slammed her fist into her hand. “It would also explain why Queen Dalwen hasn’t woken up yet. She hasn’t gotten the indication yet to do so.”
“That’s strange…” Holara noted. “There’s no way she would have forgotten to make a door of awakening.”
“It is odd, for sure,” The orange-haired woman agreed. “But we won’t know what’s going on until we get over there and see.”
“Let’s get a move on it.” I nodded to my crew. “Are there any back ways in?”
“Unfortunately, not,” Holara sighed. “There’s only one entrance at the very front of the dwelling.”
“Only one?” Sela scoffed. “That seems like a major design flaw.”
“It’s so you have
to pass through all of the royal halls,” Ahwara grumbled. “The queen loves to show off her… royalty. You’ll see that first hand when you meet her.”
“Please tell me that’s not your way of telling me she’s prissy.” I raised an eyebrow, but Ahwara wouldn’t budge.
“I would never say such a thing about my queen,” the Morpho woman feigned offence. “Dalwen is just very regal, that’s all. Sometimes, it can be a bit much if you’re not used to it, so I’m warning you ahead of time.”
So, she was prissy. Got it.
Tirian and Jemma came back down from their vantage point, and then we all made our way down to the opening of the palace. It was completely unceremonious, just a ten-foot tall opening in the first room that was equally as wide and looked like it had been carved out by hand.
“The dragons will have to stay outside,” Ahwara explained. “This is a fairly big opening, but the rooms are pretty cozy once you get inside. With all of us in there, it would be pushing it to have one dragon, let alone two.”
“Sorry, guys,” I sighed as I turned to Malkey and Tirian. “It looks like you two are on guard duty for now.”
It’s for the best. Tirian shrugged. I don’t do well in tight spaces, anyways. Not to mention, you’ll need a lookout just in case those nasty green guys decide to show their faces.
“That’s right.” I nodded to the beasts. “If either of you sees anything strange, let us know immediately. Arrick? They’ll need your eyes, too.”
“What?” my son protested. “Why do I need to be on guard duty? Malkey and Tirian have way better eyesight than I do. And I want to go with you…”
I placed my hand on Arrick’s dark locks and rustled them lovingly.
“I’m sorry, Arrick,” I sighed, “but this is too dangerous for you. If there really are orcs in there, shit’s about to get real.”
“I know that!” my son argued with a scowl. “That’s why I want to be in there in case it does. I want to fight, just like you.”
“Arrick…” I trailed off as I tried to find the right words. “The orcs aren’t like any of the other perils we’ve faced on this journey so far. They are cold, calculating bastards. If they see we have a kid with us, they’re going to single you out and stop at nothing to kill you.”
“Why would they do that?” the young Dragon Prince gasped.
“Because it’s the quickest way to get to me,” I explained. “They’re sadistic fucks, Arrick. If something were to happen to you, they know I’d fly into a fit of pure rage, and I wouldn’t be thinking straight. And if that happens, I’d be way easier to defeat. Trust me, son… It’s safer for you out here. You’ll need much more training before you’re ready to face off against an orc, let alone a group of them.”
Arrick opened his mouth to protest but then quickly shut it again. As much as he wanted to come along with us, he now knew just how dire the situation was. The hopper and the rain storm may have been dangerous, but they were both just forces of nature that were dealt to us with bad luck. The orcs, on the other hand, were pure evil incarnate.
My son had yet to face down pure evil, and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as I could.
Come on, friend, Malkey said as he nudged Arrick with his muzzle. We have a lot of important work to do.
Arrick nodded in agreement, but he didn’t take his eyes off mine. Then he sighed deeply, strode over to his bondmate, and climbed up onto his back.
We all said our temporary goodbyes, and then we headed into the Morpho palace.
As we walked inside, my nostrils were hit with a scent that could only be described as dew mixed with lavender. It wasn’t exactly a terrible smell, but it was strange on the untrained nose. Before us stretched a massive hallway made from a series of similar brown, stucco-walled rooms, and on each side were hung pieces of art that made absolutely no sense to me, with images of strange symbols and crude drawings of human figures with wings in various poses.
The pictures must have meant something to the Morphos, though, because all of the women whispered to each other as they passed. Some rolled their eyes, while others just shook their heads and continued onward.
“What exactly is that about?” I whispered to the closest Morpho, Candara.
“Oh, that?” the golden-haired, braided beauty chuckled. “That’s our queen’s hall of regality.”
Candara changed the tone of her voice as she spoke and combined it with a small shimmy of a dance, which led me to believe she was being sarcastic.
“Okay…” I trailed off. “But why are you guys all being so weird about it?”
“The paintings are all Dalwen’s original artwork,” Ahwara answered, so she must have overheard us. “They’re not bad, it’s just we’ve seen them a million times, and yet she insists we pass by them every time we visit the palace.”
“Do you guys come here often?” Jemma questioned.
“It depends,” Holara mused, and the purple-haired beauty tapped her lips. “Queen Dalwen likes to host the after-fertility parties here, but that’s about the only time she has the palace open to everybody. Otherwise, we’re brought here on an ‘as needed’ basis.”
“I just can’t believe how much space there is in here,” Jemma noted as she looked around at the vast, empty domes. “I’d go crazy if I were alone in a place like this all the time.”
“Make no mistake,” Ahwara corrected the Niralope, “the queen socializes quite a bit. She just usually does it in our village or by the communal lake rather than in her own home.”
“Ahhhhhh,” I chuckled. “So, she’s less prissy and more Howard Hughes eccentric. I can work with that.”
We walked through the maze of cocoon-like rooms for another five minutes or so, but most of the places were completely empty, save for the occasional wooden chair or picture on the wall.
That’s when we came to the dining room. As we rounded the corner of a brown stucco hallway, the group was greeted with a ten-foot long wooden table. There were rough stools that lined each side, and the piece itself appeared to be made very crudely. If I had to wager a guess, I’d say it was probably built by hand, with the same “natural” tools the Morpho women liked to brag about.
Still, it appeared sturdy.
When the Morphos saw the dining room, though, they all went tense.
“What’s wrong?” Nadir hissed. “Is somebody coming?”
“I don’t think so,” Holara whispered and then pointed to the far end of the table. “But somebody has definitely been here.”
Down at the far-right corner of the wooden piece sat a bowl filled with the same fignuts we’d eaten earlier, and the nearest stool had been pulled out from its normal spot and haphazardly toppled over onto the floor.
The Morphos were right. Somebody had definitely been here.
So, I drew my sword from its sheath and held it at the ready.
“Get ready,” I warned. “For all we know, these bastards could still be here.”
“Or it could be a trap,” Mira suggested, and my heart fell.
I’d always considered the possibility the orcs were still in this building, but I hadn’t taken into consideration the idea that they knew we were here, and that they wanted us to come and find them. Even if they didn’t know my crew was around, it wouldn’t be beyond the realm of possibility for them to set up a trap for the remaining Morpho women.
We needed to proceed with absolute caution, so the rest of my friends drew their weapons and held them at the ready.
Well, everybody but Jonas. The elderly dragonkin simply held up his fists like an old-timey boxer ready to go twelve rounds.
I had to give it to the guy… He still had spunk.
We cautiously moved through the palace, ready to throw down at any moment, but much to my surprise, we didn’t seem to come across any more signs of living beings.
“We should almost be there,” Ahwara whispered. “The room where the queen is hibernating should only be one or two rooms away.”
The pink
-winged Morpho led us all forward until finally, we entered a room whose walls were practically tan. It was lit by nothing but torch lights, which hung in small stone holders on the walls and flickered like a wild candle, but the room was much larger than the rest, practically the size of a small airplane hangar.
What stuck out the most, though, was the giant cocoon in the center of the room.
It took up nearly six feet of floor space in all directions and stretched from the bottom of the structure all the way to the top. The thing was a dark emerald green, and I watched with intrigue as its walls pulsated with the life inside of it.
“That’s her, right?” I asked the Morphos.
“It has to be…” Ahwara trailed off, but her voice was full of confusion.
“Is something wrong?” Jemma wondered.
“It shouldn’t still be green,” Zerandrie spoke up. “The longer you’ve been in hibernation, the browner it becomes. If she’s been asleep for a whole cycle, it should be the same color as these walls.”
“And… what in Cacoo’s name are those?” Ahwara gasped and pointed at the cocoon.
Pieces of hollowed-out bamboo stalks jutted out of the Queen’s cocoon every couple of feet. They were each only about two feet long, but I could tell by Ahwara’s reaction this wasn’t a normal thing for a Morpho cocoon to have.
That’s when the danger washed over me like a deep, dark chill.
“Guys,” I warned as I gripped my sword tighter. “The torches. She couldn’t have lit those by herself, and I’m pretty sure she didn’t close up her own door of awakening.”
“Which means…” Mira’s eyes widened as realization set in. “Which means somebody put her into this state on purpose. They’re extending her hibernation.”
“No good cross-pollinators!” Ahwara’s voice cracked as tears streamed down her face. “What have they done to our beautiful queen?”
“Whatever they did,” Holara growled, and the violet-haired woman bared her teeth, “I’m going to kill them for it.”
“Not if I get to them first,” Elzara noted with a scowl.
