Dragon Dodgers (Wounds in the Sky Prequels Book 1)

by V. R. Cardoso

  Enrig nodded and someone opened the city gates. The fresh air swept into the chamber and rustled his hair. This was always Enrig’s favorite part, except this time his stomach was sinking down a bottomless pit. The idea of going back home suddenly became a lot more appealing.

  “Ready?” Anweh asked him.

  “I think so.” He replied.

  “Alright!” Targon yelled from somewhere up front. “Thirty steps and switch. My column goes first.”

  It didn’t take very long for Enrig to break sweat. In fact, soon enough, his breathing became heavy, his lungs started to burn and his feet began to feel like they were being stabbed.

  The first thing he learned, was that when the Captain said ‘thirty steps and switch’ it actually meant they had to run for sixty consecutive steps. Thirty to catch up with the leading column, and another thirty to get ahead. The second thing he learned, was that no one ever complained when they were tired. Ever. He saw one Runner vomiting from exhaustion without so much as slowing down. – It was Thaeus, who immediately tossed Daviel a coin. – They only rested when it was their turn to watch the sky, until Lieutenant Nasur saw Targon’s column stop and motioned at them to keep going. They actually spotted three Dragons throughout the day, and still kept running.

  “There was no need to worry.” Marek told him later that day. “They were far enough.”

  Enrig didn’t think a Dragon could ever be far enough.

  The Company reached the base of Prophet’s Peak in the middle of the afternoon. It had taken Enrig twice as long to get there when he had gone alone. Targon lead them to a dense grove and then ordered the Company to scatter and hide. The Runners efficiently mingled with the bushes and trees, covering themselves with gray, brown and green cloaks. Only then did everyone reach into their backpacks for food and water.

  Enrig was beyond exhausted. He emptied his leather canteen in one long, uninterrupted gulp. He was still wiping the water from the corners of his mouth when a loud shriek broke through the forest. His whole body jumped up.

  “What was that?!” Someone screamed.

  It was the Royal Servant, Carn. Earlier that day, in the exit chamber, before leaving, he had looked tall, dignified and arrogant. Now, he was pale and dripping with sweat. Heavy panting writhing his panic expression even further.

  Anweh told Enrig to be quiet with a gesture and Targon stood up silently. The Captain inspected the ceiling of leaves above them. Streams of light poured through, painting the grove in hazelnut and gold. There was no wind in there, as if they were underground, but Enrig smelled the moisture of recent rain. A fresh, earthy and pleasant kind of moisture, unlike the putrid dampness of Saggad.

  Targon chose three Runners – Liora, Samir and Shayllah – and signaled them to follow him. As they disappeared into the woods there was another deep roar, somewhere close, and Enrig felt his heart stop and his belly ache. He instinctively pushed back into the tree as if he was trying to get inside. Everyone else just stood still, patiently waiting, except Carn, so Lieutenant Nasur was forced to cover his mouth so he wouldn’t scream. The Captain returned after a while, followed by the other three Runners.

  “Flew up towards the mountain.” He said with a low voice. “Shouldn’t be any trouble.”

  “The cave.” Carn pleaded. “You said there would be a cave.”

  “I did.” The Captain replied. He walked towards Enrig and kneeled beside him. “So, the cave. Do you still remember where it is?”

  Enrig swallowed in dry a throat. He didn’t even know where he was. He could still picture the cave and its entrance, but he hadn’t exactly spent much time canvassing the area when he had been there. He had literally just stumbled into the cave, slept there, then left the following morning. That was it. He hadn’t memorized the way in or out, hadn’t drawn any map, nothing. He simply remembered how the cave looked like.

  “I think so.” He mumbled. “I mean, kind of.” He looked around. “You know, if I could get to where I came through the last time.”

  Targon looked at Anweh.

  “Great.” He said. “The kid was lying.”

  “What?!” Carn shrieked.

  “Should have guessed it.” Targon stood up with a sigh.

  “No!” Enrig said. “I’m not lying, I just don’t really remember where…”

  “Shush.” Anweh told him. “Not so loud, sweetie. We’re on the surface.”

  They don’t believe me… He thought.

  “You have to trust me, there is a cave and I did find it, but…”

  “It’s ok.” Anweh ruffled his hair kindly. “These woods are pretty thick, we’ll be alright here.”

  Enrig pushed her hand away and got up.

  “I’m not lying.” He yelled.

  There were several shushes from the crowd of Runners. Nasur’s hand was covering Carn’s face once again.

  “It’s ok, sweetie. We believe you, don’t we Captain?”

  “Sure we do.” He replied with a dismissive hand wave.

  Enrig clenched his teeth and both his fists.

  “I said I was going to find it, and I will.” He said, then stormed off and disappeared into the woods.

  * * *

  “I’m blaming you for this.” Targon said, ducking under a low branch.

  “Did you really have to call him a liar?” Anweh replied.

  “You’re sure he took off this way?”

  “I’m sure you’re an idiot.”

  Targon exhaled loudly. The terrain was getting steeper and rockier, but the foliage was still as dense as before, making the search almost impossible. They called out for Enrig a couple of times, but didn’t dare to do it loudly.

  “Should we split?” Targon asked.

  “Yeah, that way I’ll have two kids to find instead of just one.”

  “I thought you liked chasing me.” Targon teased.

  “I stopped liking it recently.”

  Targon had trouble answering that.

  “Little blossom, please…”

  “Don’t call me that.” She snapped. “Don’t you ever call me that again.” She tried to regain her composure. “Let’s just find the kid, alright?”

  There was nothing Targon could say, really. She was right to be angry with him, and he was wrong about, well, everything.

  “I’m sorry.” Targon said.

  She stopped, her back facing him.

  “What does that mean?”

  “That I’m sorry I’m doing this to you. You don’t deserve it.”

  “But you’re still not going to take me with you.” She guessed.

  “I can’t.”

  Targon heard a deep sigh, then Anweh started walking again, abandoning their argument. She stepped through the trees, her head swinging from one side to the other, searching for the boy. Targon went after her, pretending to do the same, yet too busy trying to figure something to say.

  They kept going for a while, until the trees suddenly gave way to a clearing on the other side of which stood a vertical stone wall.

  “Wow!” Anweh let out.

  “I know… I guess the kid might have been right. There could be a cave somewhere along this wall.”

  “So the question is, left or right?” Anweh said.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to split up?” Targon asked her.

  She solemnly said no with a shake of her head.

  * * *

  Enrig put his two hands down, making sure he didn’t slip on the moss covered rocks. That was the exact same gray stone that he remembered from the cave, so maybe he wasn’t far from the entrance. Although that was a big maybe. He looked back at the trees and tried to visualize the path he had just taken from the grove. After all, it wouldn’t be of any use if he found the cave, but not the way back.

  He remembered that the entrance wasn’t completely level with the ground, so he decided to climb a little further, when –

  A quick shadow ran by and Enrig almost lost his balance. A cold hand squeezed his stomach. He cou
ldn’t be sure it wasn’t a cloud, but clouds were never that fast. He hurried along the stone wall, hoping to find the cave at each corner he turned. If it really was a Dragon, his only chance was getting inside.

  Finally, he saw it. He remembered the small clearing in front of the cave vividly, and that was it. With a quick glance towards the sky, he hasted towards the massive hole in the rock. He realized he had climbed a bit too far, which meant he would have to step down a few feet.

  He was already on top of the cave when a spine chilling roar echoed around him. Enrig lost his feet and then, everything happened so fast he only realized he was falling when he hit the ground, hands first against the hard rock. A sharp pain shot through his wrist up to his elbow and Enrig let out a hurtful cry. It was the worst thing he could possibly do with a Dragon nearby, but the pain made everything else disappear.

  With tears rolling down his face, he covered his own mouth with his good arm, biting hard on his clothes.

  “What are you doing?! Be quiet!” Enrig heard someone yell.

  He rolled onto his other side, towards the voice, and saw a man standing before the cave. At first, he assumed it was one of the Runners, but he had never seen that man before. He was holding a knife and Enrig focused on its blade. It was long, thick and… translucent?

  * * *

  They ran as fast as they possibly could, hoping against hope they could get there before the roaring Dragon got to Enrig. At least his screams gave them a good idea of where he was.

  When they finally cleared the tree line, the cave seemed to jump up towards them – a massive black hole on the face of the mountain – Enrig was by its entrance, lying on his back, but instead of a Dragon, a stranger was kneeling beside him, with a knife in his hand.

  “Step back!” Targon said.

  “Easy.” The stranger said, sheathing his weapon. “Your friend just startled me, that’s all.”

  “Who the surface are you?” Targon looked around, his hand on his knife. “Are you alone?”

  “I am Balcazar, and yes, I am alone.” He gestured towards the cave. “We should get in, though, there’s an Eastern Short-Tail around here.”

  The stranger was right, if the Dragon hadn’t noticed them yet, he would soon, unless they got inside.

  “Do you know how to get back to the Company?” Targon asked Anweh. She nodded yes. “Bring them here, I’ll stay with the kid.”

  She disappeared into the forest and Targon kneeled beside Enrig.

  “Your friend broke his arm.” Balcazar told him.

  “How can you tell?” Enrig said, his voice muffled by the pain. “Are you a physician or something?”

  “Actually, I used to be an apprentice to a physician.”

  “Used to?” Targon asked, lifting Enrig from the ground.

  “Died from a fever.” Balcazar said. “That’s actually pretty ironic, isn’t it?” he paused and smiled. “I had never thought about it that way.” He shook his head in amusement.

  Targon helped Enrig walk, very slowly, into the cave. The boy was biting his own lips in an effort to keep quiet. The tunnel curved slightly to the left, revealing an inner lake. Light and droplets poured from somewhere above it.

  Targon laid Enrig against a polished stalagmite.

  “Do you think you can fix my arm?” Enrig asked.

  Balcazar shook his head.

  “I’m afraid I never finished my training. Wouldn’t know where to start.”

  He was almost a head taller than Targon, but his soft skin and childish features somehow made him seem smaller.

  “It’s ok.” Targon told Enrig. “Thamet can patch you up.”

  “But I can help you with something else.” Balcazar removed a small pouch from his belt. “I’m an Alchemy apprentice. I can give you something for the pain.” He smiled.

  “Alchemy?!” Targon said. “That’s interesting. You wouldn’t happen to know an alchemist called Kanuur?”

  Balcazar’s eyebrows jumped up.

  “Know him?” He asked. “He’s my Master.”

  Chapter 6: The Secret Weapon

  Anweh returned to the cave followed by the rest of the Company and, of course, Carn. The king’s agent brushed past everyone else and stormed up to Targon. The Captain was standing in front of a fire he had just lit to keep Enrig warm.

  “So now we have picked up another useless person.” Carn said, staring down on Balcazar. “I thought bringing an inexperienced apprentice was enough, Captain.” His hand waved across Enrig’s body. “As his present condition clearly illustrates.”

  “Bringing useless people is a tradition of this Company.” Targon told him. “That began with you, Mr. Carn.”

  “It’s Counselor Carn to you, Captain.” He replied. “What about the newcomer?” He turned to Balcazar. “Who might you be?”

  An alarm sounded in Targon’s mind, but he didn’t react fast enough. Balcazar gave Carn a bow and pleasantly said:

  “My name is Balcazar…”

  Targon watched as the disaster unfolded, feeling as helpless as in a dream where his legs refused to move.

  “Actually, you might be pleased to learn that…” Balcazar continued. “…I am the apprentice of the Alchemist you seek - Master Kanuur.”

  Oh, no!

  “Oh” Carn said, his eyebrows shooting up. He quickly glanced at Targon, almost apologetically. "That is a remarkable coincidence!”

  “Well… Actually…” Targon babbled. “Maybe we should…” He had no idea what to do or say to avoid the imminent disaster.

  “I do scour this region frequently.” Balcazar said. “You know, for supplies. And this is the safest place in miles.”

  “Of course.” Carn said. “You must tell us all about this famous poison, then.”

  “What poison?”

  Oh crap…

  “The Dragon poison, of course!” Carn said. “Did the Captain not tell you? That is the reason we seek your Master.”

  “Dragon poison? What Dragon poison?” Balcazar looked confused.

  Carn spun around, his eyes bolting at Targon.

  “You lied!”

  “Wait a moment…” Targon looked around. Everyone in the Company was approaching, circling the three of them.

  “You lying bastard, I knew it.” Carn said.

  “He is not Master Kanuur, he might not know about it…” Targon suggested.

  “No…” Balcazar said thoughtfully. “I think I would know about something like that. I mean, that would be a pretty big deal.”

  “You tried to scam the king…” Carn said. He looked a bit too happy with himself. “Do you have any idea what is the penalty for something like that?”

  “Calm down, I wasn’t scamming anyone.”

  The royal counselor didn’t seem to care. He flung around, addressing the whole Company.

  “I’m still in possession of the ten thousand Spades.” He announced. “Arrest this man for me, escort us back to Saggad and they are yours.”

  There was a commotion among the Runners as they mumbled impatiently.

  “There is no poison, Captain?” Shayllah asked.

  “Yeah, what the surface, Cap?!” Samir complained.

  “Everybody just calm down.” Targon ordered.

  Serak broke through the crowd, entering the circle, his skinning knife unsheathed and firmly grasped in his hand.

  “Serak…” The Captain said.

  “Don’t worry, Captain…” There was ice in his voice. “I won’t hurt you.” He made a quick spin, locked Carn in a tight grip, and put his knife against the Counsellor’s throat. “But I am going to collect those ten thousand coins.”

  “No!” Targon screamed. “Don’t do it.”

  Carn screamed and squirmed, begging for help. The Captain stepped slowly towards him.

  “Easy, Serak. Don’t do anything stupid.” Targon’s advance, however, was stopped by another knife. Thamet’s knife.

  “Thamet, have you lost your mind?!” Nasur sounded like he was about t
o slap him, and he was going to step forward, but another knife appeared, this time, on his own neck. “What the…”

  Then, as if on cue, several Runners jumped into the circle, surrounding Serak and aiming their knives out at the rest of the Company. Targon counted them – Yarek, Marek, Shayllah, Thaeus, Daviel and Liora. Adding Thamet and Serak, that was almost half of the Dodgers.

  Targon’s mouth dropped and he froze. Were they all that angry with him? The rest of his men, however, didn’t seem to enjoy being threatened like that. They drew their own knives, challengingly. Nyssa immediately disarmed Thaeus, releasing Nasur. Serak didn’t like it.

  “Stop it, Nyssa!” He barked, showing her his hostage.

  “Nyssa, let the kid go.” Targon said.

  She obeyed, pushing Thaeus with enough thrust to make him fall over the ground.

  “What the surface do you think you’re doing?!” Targon yelled at the mutineers. “Are we going to fight each other, now?”

  “Maybe we should just cut them loose.” Nyssa said.

  “We’re not cutting anyone loose. I’m not splitting this Company.” Targon said. “Serak, let Carn go and let’s talk about this.”

  Serak’s eyes locked on Targon’s, streams of red filling them.

  “No more talking, Captain. We’ve had enough. We’re not going to be used like Dragon bait, just so you can get rich.”

  Targon exhaled loudly and searched his pocket.

  “I thought we had discussed this already!” He said in disbelief. “I told you about the secret message. I showed it to you.” He waved the letter. “You know that Kanuur has found something. We have to find out what it is.”

  “What are you talking about?” Anweh said.

  Targon swallowed in a dry throat. He looked around, at the Runners that had remained loyal to him, and saw a series of questioning looks.