Claws of the Dragon

by Craig Halloran

  Nath put his clawed hand on Bayzog’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You can’t expect her to keep her feelings bottled up all the time. She has a right to vent. Don’t be so hard on her.”

  “A sorceress should have more discipline.” He had a blank look on his elven face. “But the sad thing is I never knew she felt that way.”

  “Then I’d say you need to talk to her more often.”

  Bayzog glanced at the tome he’d been studying. “I need to research.”

  “No, you need to go to your wife, and the first words out of your mouth should probably be, ‘I apologize.’”

  The part-elf stiffened. “For what?”

  “Who feeds you, Bayzog?”

  “Why, she does.”

  “Well, you don’t want to starve to death, do you?”

  Bayzog lifted a brow. “Perhaps you are right. Thank you, Nath.” He headed after Sasha.

  Nath resumed his place on the sofa and gazed at the warm glow of the fireplace in the corner. He sipped on the wizard water.

  I think a lot more happened in the twenty-five years I was gone than I realized.

  ***

  Shuffling through the rubble-filled streets of Quintucklen, Nath found himself liking his isolation. He’d hung around Bayzog’s place until the quietness made him uneasy. It had taken Bayzog more than two hours to return from his talk with Sasha, and when he did, the dark-haired part-elf wizard had little to say. If anything, his face was a little ashen when he stuck his nose back in his book and began flipping pages.

  Time to go.

  Nath thought there wasn’t much sense in him hanging around with so much tension in the air. And in a surprising way, he felt a little foolish. Was Sasha right in her suspicions of Selene? Had he missed something? He was incredulous that she’d gotten so upset over it. It gave him much to think about. Things to ponder.

  A long walk should do me good.

  It was late in the night, and the streets were dark. The lanterns that used to light the fallen city were scarce. Instead, there were catwalks, planks, pulleys, and stacked stone blocks—some large, others small. A few buildings were almost complete, but so many had been demolished.

  Nath stopped beside a wheelbarrow that was filled with broken blocks and sighed.

  What a mess war makes.

  But as he continued on through the dust and debris, his heart swelled with pity. There were tents set up all over the city. Camps full of people. Some faces sat around campfires and grumbled. He got a better idea of what Sasha was experiencing. This was her home, and so many had lost everything.

  Sure, to a dragon it didn’t seem so bad. After all, the people would rebuild. It might take a few years, but they’d bounce back. But some of them wouldn’t bounce back. They didn’t have enough time for that. They’d die homeless and poor.

  This is horrible.

  Nath crossed from street to street, picking his way through the city. He heard sobbing. Through a broken window he saw a woman’s face in tears. Listening carefully from a place of concealment, he realized one of the fallen Legionnaires was her husband. They’d come to rebuild. They had children. Two of them. Twin girls. A woman friend was there to console the upset woman, who said, “Just when things settle, more of those dragons come and kill. I hate the dragons. They all bring trouble.”

  Nath’s chest tightened, and he moved on. Her voice wasn’t the only murmuring he heard. People all over were frustrated, and the truth be told, most of them couldn’t tell one dragon from the other. And now, they were threatened again. After all of their work, the peace had vanished almost as soon as it had come.

  Will this fighting ever end?

  Edging deeper into town, he came across the shambled wooden porch of a tavern. There was a lot of commotion inside the walls of the torch-lit room. He ventured closer, with the porch creaking underneath his foot.

  Seems pretty lively. At least not all spirits are broken.

  Crash! Boom! Bang!

  Inside, a booming dwarven voice yelled, “For Morgdon!”

  CHAPTER 4

  Nath dashed through the door. A host of men armed with clubs and tankards encircled Brenwar. Some of them had chairs. Nath saw Ben out of the corner of his eyes. The older warrior stood in the corner, leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. He shrugged at Nath.

  “Take it back!” Brenwar said. He hiccupped. He smacked his fists together. “Take it back, or I’ll slaughter every last one of you!”

  Nath pushed through the throng of angry men.

  One man shoved him in the back.

  Nath shoved him back.

  The man eyed his scales and faded back.

  “Get out of here, Nath!” Brenwar growled. “This isn’t your business. Go away. Hic.”

  Nath spread his arms out and slowly spun around. “Easy, men. What’s this about?”

  “I’ll tell you what this is all about!” Brenwar spat through his beard. “They say they’ll rebuild this city better than Morgdon! Hah! And to think, I was trying to help them. Stupid men!”

  “Is this true?” Nath said, gazing at all the men. “I’ve never known a dwarf to lie.”

  “Quintucklen is better!” one man said, holding a chair in two hands. “The dragons didn’t ever attack their city! We are better. We are stronger!”

  “I’m going to rip him apart!” Brenwar surged forward.

  Nath held him back for a moment, just long enough to unload a warning to the men. “You had better take it back, or he’s going to fight every last one of you. And you don’t want that.”

  “Nay! Let him fight. No dwarf is going to tell us who and what we are in this city,” said the man. “Let the bearded cur loose!”

  Hometown pride.

  Nath had to give the men of Quintuklen credit. They loved their city as much as the dwarves loved Morgdon. He released Brenwar. “Have at it, then.”

  The grizzled dwarf stormed into the man with the big mouth and chair. The chair came down and splintered on his head. Brenwar tackled the man, and all the other men piled on.

  Nath stepped away from the fray and headed toward Ben.

  Gaping, Ben said, “You’re letting him fight all of them?”

  “I don’t think I could stop him. Do you?”

  Ben ducked under a tankard that whizzed over his head. “I suppose not.” He slapped Nath on the back. “Say, you look a little long in the face. How about I get you some ale?”

  Brenwar squirted out of the pile, charged through the screaming voices and tables, and plucked a keg of ale up from the floor. Hoisting it overhead, he hurled it at the rush of men. Four men went down, and the keg of ale cracked open and started to spill. “And your ale is lousy!” Brenwar said. He climbed up on the bar and jumped into the throng.

  “I think the price of ale just went up. Do you think you can afford it?” Nath asked.

  “Come with me,” Ben said, leading Nath by the arm. They picked their way through the broken chairs, tables, and pottery and slipped outside on the porch. Taking in a breath of fresh air, Ben said, “It’s good to see you, Dragon, but you don’t seem well.”

  “What makes you say so?”

  A man flew through the glass window on the other side of the door. Crash! Another one came out and landed on top of him. Whup!

  Nath and Ben shuffled away.

  Ben continued. “I can tell when you have a lot on your mind. Sure, I’m not some seer or anything, but when I met you, way back when, you never worried. There’s a crease between those brows of yours now.”

  The swinging doors burst open, and Brenwar stormed out. “Hic!” He grabbed both of the men by their collars. “I’m not finished with these two.” He dragged them back inside, and another clamor arose. Wood clacked and shattered. Men howled in triumph and pain.

  As if nothing were happening, Nath said, “That’s disappointing. I haven’t really aged so many years, but sometimes I feel as ancient as my father. Aw, Ben, I shouldn’t complain. The truth i
s, I lost a great deal of my power.”

  “You can’t fly anymore, can you?”

  Nath shook his head no. “And that’s not all. I’d say for the most part, I’m right back where I was when you met me. I know I sound vain, Ben, but with the power I had before, I could do almost anything. Now I’m a shadow of that, and I think, ‘How am I supposed to protect so many people from such great evil?’”

  Ben rubbed his beard. The stern-faced man had an iron jaw and weathered skin. He’d seen a hundred battles and survived. There was a steely wisdom in his eyes. “You’ll do it just like you did it before, Dragon.”

  “Really, and how did I do it before?”

  “With boldness. It didn’t matter if we were facing giants or dragons. Wherever we went, there was never anyone bigger than you. Larger than life, you launched yourself into the threat without a sliver of fear in your eyes. You are Nath Dragon, The Dragon Prince. Maybe you’re a little smaller than you’d like to be, but I know you. Your ego’s bigger than all the mountains in the world.”

  Nath couldn’t stop the smile on his face, and he didn’t want to. It felt good. And Ben was right. Nothing had really changed. He was still faster and stronger than any man alive. And what did he have to be scared of? He had Fang. And, more importantly, he had friends who believed in him.

  “You know, Ben,” Nath said, throwing his arm over Ben’s shoulder, “I always knew you were going to grow up to be one of the wisest men who ever lived.”

  Ben looked him in the eye. “You know you’re always right, Dragon.”

  Crash!

  “I think we had better get in there before someone really gets hurt.” Nath bustled through the door and stopped just inside.

  Brenwar sat on top of a pile of bodies. Beside him sat the man who had insulted him to begin with. Both of them had smiles on their bruised faces. The man, a thickset laborer with a bald head, had a pair of teeth missing that hadn’t been missing before.

  Nath said, “So I guess the argument is settled, then?”

  “Aye!” Brenwar said, clawing at his beard. “These humans and I have come to an agreement.”

  Nath lifted his brows. “Oh, and what might that be?”

  “Men love Quintuklen as much as the dwarves love Morgdon! And that’s worth fighting for any day!”

  “Aye!” said the men on the floor. They were slowly getting back to their feet and crawling up on unbroken chairs.

  Ben looked at Nath and shrugged.

  “And better yet. Hic,” Brenwar continued, “They’ve agreed to let the dwarves come and help rebuild them!”

  “Aye!” the men said.

  “Now that the fighting’s over,” Brenwar bellowed, “let the singing begin! Aaaaaaah … Home of the dwarves—Morgdon! Home of the dwarves—Morgdon!”

  Ben sawed his elbow back and forth and joined in with a big smile behind his greying beard.

  Nath was about to join in as well, when he felt a tingle on his neck. He backed up through the door and stepped out on the porch.

  Selene stood in her purple robes alone in the moon’s shadows.

  “Selene?”

  “Yes,” she said, sounding dejected.

  “Look, don’t you worry about what Sasha said.”

  “No, it’s fine, Nath. I understand her concerns. I just came to tell you I’m leaving.”

  CHAPTER 5

  A hornless white dragon with gold flecks in its scales soared over the grasslands. It was an Ivory Slider more than fifteen feet long with beautiful wings and a very long tail. More graceful than an eagle, she glided from side to side in the air. Her long eyelashes blinked.

  Ahead, a flock of wurmers dropped from the clouds and dove right for her.

  Outnumbered and seeing the fire in their eyes, she turned and headed back in the direction she had come from.

  “Oh no,” she said in Dragonese.

  Wurmers dropped from the clouds all over by the dozens.

  Flapping her wings, she cut through the air, belly skimming the tall highland grasses.

  Behind her, hungry shrieks howled out in pursuit.

  She was fast, very fast. The Ivory Sliders were the messengers of Dragon Home. They cut through air like a knife through butter, and not many dragons could catch them other than the Blue Razors. Beating her streamlined body through the wind, she began to outdistance her pursuers.

  Ahead, she saw a series of mountains with winding crevasses and ravines that would be the perfect place to lose them. Making a beeline for the rocky cliffs, she soared higher.

  A spitball of fire whizzed by her ear. The wurmers were shooting balls of energy at her.

  Head turned around, she barrel rolled and evaded.

  Above her, another wave of wurmers dropped from the greying clouds and blanketed the sky. Balls of flame like tiny meteors showered her from above, singeing wing and scale.

  Just as she turned to find a path of escape, a rock bigger than her head slammed into her chest. Spinning out of control, she crashed to the ground with balls of fire peppering her body, and she let out a tremendous roar that split the air.

  The wurmers were scattered by the sonic wave of energy. They became disoriented and fell from the sky. Still more came.

  The Ivory Slider let out another mystic roar, shattering the air. She shook off the flames and spread her wings once more.

  One by one, wurmer after wurmer slammed into her and drove her to the ground. Jaws with sharp, jagged teeth bit into her legs.

  She fought with all of her strength, thrashing and biting, but before long, her limbs gave out under the sheer weight of her growing foes. She let out a weak sonic sigh that flattened the grasses and stopped at a pair of massive feet. Pinned down, she still managed to lift her chin. Her eyes flashed.

  A giant!

  Dragons hated giants, and giants hated dragons. It always had been and always would be. But the wars between them had been quiet for centuries.

  And here was one before her, almost twenty feet tall. A towering figure of brawn and muscle, covered in thick hair. But unlike the giants she’d known, this one was different. His entire head was covered in flame. In his mighty grip was a sling big enough to hurl a sheep.

  Lizardmen appeared behind the giant with heavy robes in their hands.

  She hissed at them.

  They bound her up.

  The flame giant’s necklace of dragon bones shook when he spoke. “BRING HER,” he said in a voice as deep as a canyon.

  The Ivory Slider was dragged by the lizardmen over the grasses and into the belly of the mountain, where they marched until they stood on the edge of a small ravine. A pair of horned dragon skulls were on spikes that guarded the carved stone steps that led down.

  “Take a long look,” said the flame giant, pointing into the ravine.

  Her nostrils flared. Her neck recoiled. The stench of death and decay was strong. But it was familiar too. Lifting her head, she peered down into the ravine. Her jaw dropped open. Her stomach turned to knots. Nooooo!

  Down there, dragons lay dead in the brush and trees. Scales of many colors. Copper. Blue. Red. White. Yellow. Green. Their bodies were broken. Wings busted. Horns shattered. Even a massive Bull Dragon was down there.

  She turned her fear-filled gaze toward the giant.

  Head aflame, he said, “Fear not. You will be spared, messenger. What you have seen, report in every detail to Balzurth of Dragon Home. Tell him Eckubahn sent you.”

  Trembling, she nodded.

  The giant wagged his finger in her face. “You will not fly.” He slid out a dagger that was too small for his belt and dropped it point first in the ground. It was carved from a dragon’s tooth, and it glimmered with enchantment. “You will walk. Lizards, cut off her wings.”

  CHAPTER 6

  “Selene, you can’t go.” Nath laid his hands on her shoulders.

  She rested her palms on his hands, and with tear-filled eyes she looked deeply into his. “Sasha is right. I’m behind much of this. These people
should kill me. I would if I were them.”

  “Don’t say that, Selene. It’s not true.”

  “It is true. Every last bit of it.” She slipped out of his hands and stood on the edge of the porch beside the wooden post that held the ceiling. “I’ve been walking through the streets and listening to the conversations of men, women, children. You know, I never cared one lick for any of them before. They were rodents. No, not even that. They were bugs to be squished under my scales. Vermin to be chewed away at Gorn Grattack’s order.” She made a deep frown. “I hated them for their laughter. Happiness. I wanted to destroy it all. I still envy them.”

  “Selene,” he said, looking at the sadness growing in her face. “Everyone can change. You proved that. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  “What a jest, Nath. I’m sorry to be ugly, but I should be tried for my crimes.”

  Nath snuck up to her and tried to cover her mouth.

  She slipped away.

  He said in a harsh whisper, “Keep your voice down, will you? If someone were to hear you, it might just come true. There are tribunals, you know.”

  “I can’t just wish my past away, Nath. What happens when people figure out who I am, hmmm? Do you think all of them will forgive me? Think of Sasha. She’s a sweet and reasonable person, but she wants my head on a platter.”

  “No, she doesn’t. Well, not on a platter anyway. Maybe mounted on the wall.”

  She glared at him.

  “Er, it’s a jest.” He combed his hair out of his eyes and fell silent. As a stiff wind blew through the streets and stirred up tiny dust devils, his mind dove deeper into thought. Selene had made a good point. The world would not forgive her the same as he had. All over Nalzambor, grudges were still held that were centuries old. And now, it didn’t seem fair that like him, she would have to walk the world as a human, knowing so many hated her. “Why don’t we walk together?”

  “No.” She faced him. “Nath, I’m leaving.”

  A spark of anger flashed in his golden eyes. “I need you, Selene. We are in this together. To the end. You can’t just go it alone!”