The Battle of Iron Gulch

by R. G. Thomas

  “She belongs to me!” Isadora screamed in a voice loud enough for him to hear.

  A shudder ran through the dragon, and she wobbled in the air. She shook her head side to side as if trying to shake off Isadora’s spell, and the chain flailed back and forth as well. The heat beneath Thaddeus and in the spike continued to build and had progressed beyond uncomfortable to nearly painful.

  “Mom, no, don’t listen to her,” Thaddeus called. “You don’t need to listen to her. She does not control you!”

  “Attack!” Isadora shouted and twisted toward the spot his father and Leopold had taken shelter.

  Heat flowed through the dragon, her muscles quivering with the power of her blast. The flames shot past Isadora and struck the back wall of the plateau in a blinding flash of light and heat.

  “No!” Thaddeus cried.

  As the dragon landed, he slid off her back and ran toward the stone where his father and Leopold had taken shelter, not caring about the heat or whether she would attack a second time. Sweat drenched his body in seconds and the bottoms of his shoes grew tacky as they softened against the steaming rocks. The hot springs bubbled and steamed around him, the warm mist making him gasp for breath.

  “Dad!” he called. “Leopold!”

  “You’re all alone now,” Isadora said. “And your fate lies in my hands.”

  Thaddeus turned to see her advancing on him. Grief coupled with the immense heat stoppered all thought, and all he could do was stand and watch her approach. The dragon stood on the edge of the cliff, her eyes closed and head held low to the ground as she shook it back and forth. He had no idea what to do to protect himself, and with his mind a complete blank, he called to the first thing he could think of.

  “Looks like it’s down to just you and me, nephew,” Isadora said.

  He kept quiet, focusing all of his energy on the summoning spell.

  “Once you’re gone, your mother’s heart and soul will belong solely to me,” Isadora said, stopping a few feet from him. “And I’m going to have her burn through that wretched small town of Superstition before I tell her to dig up each and every gnome for miles around and chew them up for snacks.”

  Thaddeus couldn’t remember where he’d last had it, but knew it wouldn’t be long now. He just had to keep her occupied.

  Isadora frowned. “No final sarcastic remarks for your dear aunt?”

  It was close, and he refused to break his concentration to respond to her. Instead Thaddeus stared into her eyes with his chin up and fists clenched.

  “So be it,” Isadora said with a shrug. “I will say, you did put up a good fight.”

  The asphalt chunk came spinning around a rock wall and hit Isadora full speed in the temple. She screamed in pain and surprise as she stumbled sideways. Thaddeus took a couple of steps back, the soles of his shoes still slightly sticky, and looked down at the asphalt lying in several tiny pieces at his feet. It must have been moving really fast to hit her hard enough to break like that.

  “You damn kid,” Isadora said, her voice slightly slurred. She clung to a rock at the other side of the trail, blood streaming down the side of her face as she said it again. “You’re just a damn kid.”

  The dragon gave one last violent shake of her head, then looked toward them, and Thaddeus was glad to see her eyes were still blue. They looked clear and bright as she slowly approached.

  “I had you,” Isadora whispered. “I had you right there.”

  “You’ve lost, Isadora,” Thaddeus said. “Surrender and we’ll get you medical help.”

  She looked at him, and when she turned her head, Thaddeus could see the shallow dent the asphalt had left in her skull. He winced and had to squash down a wave of guilt at having been the cause of it. The remorse was quickly washed away when Isadora lunged for him. Thaddeus stepped back to avoid her clutching hands and stumbled over a rock, sitting down hard. He felt a rush of air pass above him and looked up in time to see the dragon’s tail whip past. It connected with Isadora where she stood listing slightly to the left and sent her tumbling through the broken guardrail and down out of sight, her scream trailing after her. The dragon did not fly to her rescue, and her scream echoed around the plateau until it abruptly stopped.

  Thaddeus sat for a moment staring at the space where Isadora had dropped out of sight. It was over; Isadora was dead. He couldn’t believe it. The rocks beneath his hands felt real enough, and the wound on his palm was throbbing, so it didn’t seem like a dream. He got to his feet and stood watching the edge of the cliff a little longer, half expecting Isadora to somehow rise up from below like some horror movie.

  At the sound of rocks tumbling behind him, Thaddeus jumped and turned, afraid he’d see Isadora, or the Bearagon, or a pack of goblins. Instead he saw his father crawling out of one of the hot springs and onto the blackened stone around it, gasping for breath.

  “Dad!” Tears blurred his vision as he ran to help his father stand. “You’re alive!”

  His father smiled as he wiped water from his eyes. “Just barely. I jumped into the spring when I saw Isadora turn away from us toward the dragon.”

  “How’d you stay down there so long?” Thaddeus asked.

  “I used an air bubble spell over and over and over to help me breathe,” he replied, then looked around the plateau. “Where is she?”

  “Isadora is dead,” Thaddeus replied.

  Nathan looked at him. “Dead? Did you…?”

  Thaddeus shook his head. “No. I didn’t kill her. I mean, not really. I summoned the chunk of asphalt and hit her in the side of the head. Then the dragon… Mom, used her tail to knock her off the edge of the cliff.”

  Nathan pulled him into a strong hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I thought I’d lost you when you fell.”

  “I did too,” Thaddeus said and shuddered at the memory of hanging weightless in the air. “Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m fine.” His father stepped back and looked around. “Where’s Leopold?”

  Thaddeus scanned the area. “I haven’t seen him.”

  They searched behind rocks and then looked in each of the springs. At the bottom of the rearmost hot spring, Thaddeus saw the shimmer of Leopold’s track suit and called to his father before jumping in. He tried to pull Leopold up, but he was too heavy.

  Thaddeus went back up to take another breath and said, “I can’t lift him. He’s stuck or something.”

  Nathan got in the water and together they struggled to pull Leopold up and out of the spring onto the fire-blasted rock. One side of Leopold’s face was badly burned, and the track suit had melted into the skin of one arm and half of his torso. The covered plastic bowl was clutched in his other, uninjured arm, the Saran Wrap still tight around it and the lid sealed. Thaddeus set the bowl aside and checked for a pulse, but found none.

  “He’s not breathing,” Thaddeus said, and looked at the blackened half of Leopold’s face, where even his beard had been burned away. “He must have been caught by the blast and jumped in too late.”

  Thaddeus looked down at Leopold’s still face, one half-burned and the other so pale. Drops of water in what remained of his long gray beard reflected the moonlight, and one on the burned side of his face looked like a single teardrop. “Oh no.”

  His father looked at the dragon that lingered near the ledge, then back at Thaddeus. “Come on, son. We have to finish this.”

  Thaddeus nodded and wiped away tears. “I know.”

  “I don’t know if we’ll be able to get her to just drink it,” his father said. “But I might know a way we can get it in her mouth.”

  “Okay.” Thaddeus picked up the bowl, and he got to his feet.

  They left Leopold’s body by the side of the spring and approached the dragon. She sat near the edge of the cliff, warily watching them advance. His father stopped a few yards back and started to unwrap the plastic from the bowl as he nodded encouragement for Thaddeus to move closer.

  “Let her get your scent again,” he said.
“It will make her comfortable and help her relax.”

  “Hi, Mom,” Thaddeus said in a quiet tone. “It’s me, Thaddeus. Remember me?” He held out the hand Leopold had cut and tried not to think too much about the feeling of loss inside him, or how Teofil was going to take the news of Leopold’s death. Instead he focused on the moment. He was standing just a foot away from a living, breathing dragon, and he was about to bring his mother back.

  The dragon pressed her snout against his palm and breathed in deep. She stepped closer and bumped her head up against him as something like a purr rumbled in her throat. Thaddeus laughed through his tears and gently touched the side of her face.

  “Hi there,” he said.

  “Okay, see if you can get her to open her mouth,” his father instructed.

  Thaddeus looked over his shoulder to where his father knelt by the bowl. He’d gotten it unwrapped and open and his hands were cupped beneath a ball of something dark-colored that continually shifted and changed shape. Thaddeus realized it was the mixture of their blood and the well water, and understood what his father intended.

  “I’ll try,” he said.

  Thaddeus turned back to the dragon and reached out to scratch her under the chin. Another rumbling purr resulted, and this time white smoke coiled from her nostrils.

  “Open your mouth, okay?” Thaddeus cooed. “Just wide enough for something that will help bring you back to us.”

  He moved farther back along her jaw, rubbing and scratching the whole way. The scales were hard and slick beneath his fingers, and his nails scratched over the surfaces. She parted her lips, showing her dagger-like teeth, and then her mouth dropped open.

  “That’s it,” his father said in a quiet, calm tone. “Just… like… that.”

  Thaddeus watched his father focus on keeping the ball of liquid together. He held his breath as his father shifted position and, with a sudden movement, flung the ball into the dragon’s mouth. It splattered against her tongue and she jerked away from Thaddeus as she swallowed it. She shook her head and glared first at Thaddeus, then his father, and for a moment Thaddeus was afraid she might use her final few minutes as a dragon to burn them both alive. Her eyes fluttered and shut tight as she shook her head, slowly at first, then more violently. She staggered backward. Thaddeus took a step forward, reaching out, fearing she might move back too far and go off the edge of the cliff. His father was suddenly there, however, pulling him back and holding his arms tight.

  The dragon stumbled and collapsed, her chin striking the ground hard enough to make Thaddeus flinch. Her wings extended and she flapped them as if trying to escape what was happening to her by taking flight. As he watched, the wings shrank, pulling back into the sides of her body. She lifted her head and tipped it back to release a pain-filled roar, followed by a brilliant jet of flame that shot dozens of feet into the air. The fire diminished and the shape of her head changed, gradually narrowing and shrinking as the rest of her body morphed. The scales faded into pale skin and her nose and mouth shrank. The roars and rumbles changed into groans and whimpers. She twisted and turned in the dirt as dragon limbs contracted and reshaped into human arms and legs, and finally the ridge of reddened bone at the base of her skull seemed to melt over the top of her head, where it darkened to brown and became long, flowing hair.

  At last the transformation was complete and she lay naked on the rocky ground with her back turned to them. The chain around her neck was still loosely looped there and hung over her shoulder and down the bare expanse of her back. Thaddeus could see the rise and fall of her breathing. He wanted to run to her but couldn’t seem to get his feet to move. His mouth was dry, tears spilling down his cheeks, and everything he’d ever dreamed of saying to his mother bounced around inside his head in a confused jumble.

  “Stay here,” his father whispered and then squeezed his shoulders before walking past him toward the still form of the woman before them.

  “Claire,” his father said as he knelt beside her. “It’s Nathan. Nathan Cane. Can you understand me?”

  Moving more quickly than Thaddeus was able to see, the woman on the ground spun around and in a flash was on her feet in a crouch. Her dark hair hung more than halfway down her bare back and fell over her shoulder. A brilliant red streak about an inch wide ran from the roots to the tip on the left side of her head. She grabbed Nathan by the throat and glared up at him, the moon illuminating her profile and revealing a wild look in her eyes.

  “Mom, no!” Thaddeus started toward them but stopped when she turned her furious gaze on him.

  “Stay back,” his father said in a raspy voice, holding his hand out toward Thaddeus. “Don’t.”

  “Mom, it’s me,” Thaddeus said, keeping his voice calm and quiet. “It’s your baby, your son Thaddeus. I’m okay. I’m alive.”

  She cocked her head left and right, sizing him up. Nathan made a gagging sound, and she looked at him, tipping her head back and forth. Thaddeus took advantage of her diverted attention and moved a few steps closer.

  “Mom, it’s us,” Thaddeus said softly. “It’s Nathan and Thaddeus. We’re here with you. You’re safe now.”

  “Claire, it’s me,” his father said between gasps for breath. “It’s Nathan. I’m not going to hurt you. We’ve saved you. I came here for you. Look around, don’t you remember this place? The hot springs above Iron Gulch.”

  Something changed in her manner. It was too slight for Thaddeus to put his finger on—the height of her shoulders, perhaps, or the way she held her head—but it rekindled the flicker of hope inside him. She looked back at Thaddeus, and he smiled and took another cautious step closer. She looked him up and down, and the lines around her eyes softened as her jaw relaxed.

  Her voice was dry and croaky from the years she’d gone without speaking as she whispered, “Th-Thaddeus?”

  Tears blurred Thaddeus’s vision and clogged his throat, forcing him to simply nod until he could manage to speak. “It’s me, Mom. A lot older than you remember, but it’s me.”

  A quick, tentative smile flickered across her lips before she returned her gaze to Nathan. She slowly eased her grip on his throat and took a few stumbling steps back. Nathan coughed as he sucked in deep breaths and put a hand to his throat, where Thaddeus could just see red marks left by his mother’s fingers and palm. With his free hand, Nathan reached out to grab Claire’s hand and help her sit gently on the ground.

  Thaddeus stood in place, tears streaming down his face as he watched his father kneel beside his mother, the woman he’d spent all these years searching for and risked his life to find. Nathan put his arms around her and pulled her up against him, whispering words of reassurance into her hair. Thaddeus could just make out what his father said over the sound of the wind blowing around the side of the mountain.

  “It’s me, I’m here. You’re safe. You’ll always be safe now. You’re free and you’re safe.”

  Chapter TWENTY-TWO

  IT TOOK longer than Thaddeus had hoped to get back down the trail. They had to leave Leopold’s body behind because they were all too tired to carry him, either physically or using magic. They hid him from view behind a tumble of rocks and positioned him in as peaceful a manner as possible. Leaving Leopold at the springs seemed disrespectful and Thaddeus felt horrible, but there was nothing they could do. He couldn’t quite grasp that Leopold was gone. Just a short time before, he had been talking and breathing and thinking, and now all of that was done. Where did all of that powerful life force go?

  There were no answers to his questions, at least not right now, and with more than a few tears and a promise to return for him later, they turned away toward the trail. Thaddeus’s father removed his button-down shirt and helped his mother put it on to cover her nudity. She was quiet as she walked between them, looking at each of them in silence for long moments at a time.

  They didn’t talk as they descended the trail. His mother was still in a bit of shock, it seemed, and all of them were tired. It had been a long
, exhausting night. Thaddeus continually looked out over the burning town and worried about Teofil and the others. In the midst of that, he was concerned about how his mother would interact with the rest of their group, and how Aisha would treat her after she’d burned much of the town.

  The moon had just slipped out of sight behind the mountain when they finally reached the bottom of the trail. Thaddeus was eager to find Teofil and the others, and he tried to tamp down the concern that grew with each step he took without seeing them. The Iron Gulch Inn was still standing, however, and that made him feel a little better.

  As they left the trail and stepped onto the asphalt street, Claire grabbed Thaddeus’s hand and pulled him up short. She was stronger than he’d expected, and Thaddeus had to stop himself from shouting in surprise.

  “Thank you, son,” she said.

  Thaddeus smiled as he looked into her blue eyes. The fiery orange streak in her hair seemed to shimmer in the streetlight standing between the cul-de-sac and the trailhead.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “But Dad’s the one you should really be thanking. He’s spent pretty much all of my life looking for you and keeping me safe.”

  She looked over her shoulder at Nathan and reached back to take his hand as well. “Thank you both. It’s all very strange and confusing.”

  “You’ll probably feel that way for a while,” Nathan said. “But we’ll be here to help you through it all.”

  “Thaddeus!”

  He turned at the sound of his name and smiled when he saw Astrid and Dulindir running toward them.

  “We did it!” Thaddeus shouted. “We did it!”

  The two of them slowed to a walk as they got closer and stopped a few feet away, openly staring at his mother.

  “This is… your mom?” Astrid asked.

  Thaddeus nodded and looked back at his mother with a smile. “It is. This is my mother, Claire. Mom, this is Astrid Rhododendron, she’s Miriam and Rudyard’s daughter.”