Chapter 15: The Elder Willow
It had been five days since Tallin and Duskeye left the safety of the Death Sands, and three days since the battle near Rignus. They travelled cautiously over the Elburgian Mountains, and now they were entering Darkmouth Forest.
They’d slept in a cave at the forest’s edge the previous evening, and now were only travelling at night. The sun had set an hour ago, and Duskeye took flight with his rider. They both felt refreshed from their sleep. “We should reach the Elder Willow by midnight,” said Tallin. “Be prepared for anything.”
Duskeye nodded. “I am ready, my friend.” They both knew that this was the most dangerous part of the journey. They had to be prepared for a trap. Everything—the note, the spy, the stone—could be a trick. The emperor may have conceived this elaborate ruse, only to lure them away from the Death Sands and into the arms of death.
A yellow crescent moon hung in the sky, lighting their way. The moonlight cast spidery shadows across Duskeye’s scarred wings. Tallin’s hands were also covered in scars, a testament to his time under the emperor’s torture.
Many years had passed, but Tallin never forgot what he suffered at the emperor’s hands. During the Dragon Wars, Tallin and Duskeye were captured as prisoners of war. They suffered unimaginable cruelties. Tallin never broke his silence, but in the end, Tallin suffered for nothing. All the other dragon riders bowed under torture. As soon as they revealed their secrets, the emperor slaughtered them, and their dragons as well. If the emperor was lucky enough to capture a dragon and a rider together, he killed the dragon first, and then the rider. If the emperor only captured one, he would shatter the dragon stone using necromancy and kill them both. The emperor tried to avoid using the second method, because shattering the dragon stone usually cost him the life of one of his necromancers, as well.
In the end, the emperor spared Tallin because he viewed him as a challenge. Vosper enjoyed torturing Tallin personally, and his torments grew more elaborate as time went on. But Vosper also became lazier at guarding Tallin.
Every day Tallin remained alive was another opportunity for escape. Eventually, one of Tallin’s regular guards was replaced by a new guardsman for the afternoon. It was only for a short while, but it was enough. Tallin used the last of his strength to cast a concealment spell. The inexperienced guard thought that Tallin had escaped. The guard panicked, unlocked the cell door, and Tallin snapped his neck. Tallin switched the dead guard’s clothing with his own and positioned the guard in the cell as a decoy.
Next, he went searching for his dragon stone. He knew that he would never be able to find Duskeye without it. Tallin’s dragon stone had been stolen from him when he was captured. It was an implant, so Vosper ripped out of Tallin’s chest.
Tallin could sense the stone’s presence, and he tracked it down in the castle. He eventually found the dragon stone in the armory, set into a cheap dagger and tossed in a pile with hundreds of other weapons. He approached the armory guard, and said, “I need a new knife. I lost mine two days ago, when I was sparring.”
The guard nodded, and picked out a nice dagger from the collection. “Here you go. This is a sturdy one.”
Tallin pretended to examine it for cracks. “Nah, I don’t like the grip on this one. How about that one over there, the one with the green stone in the hilt?” Tallin cleared his throat and pointed at the dagger with the dragon stone.
“You don’t want that one—it’s a piece of garbage. It’s bronze and tin.”
“Let me see it,” insisted Tallin.
“Alright, but I promise you, it’s rubbish.” The guard handed Tallin the knife, handle first. As soon as Tallin touched the stone, he felt power rushing back into his body. He closed his eyes, and the armory guard asked, “Hey, are you alright, mate?”
“Yes, yes,” answered Tallin, recovering his composure. “This one will do fine, thank you.”
The armory guard shook his head and waved him off. “Take it then, but don’t come back complaining after the blade breaks.”
“Thanks,” said Tallin, walking away. He was already prying the dragon stone from the hilt. He had no idea why or how the dragon stone ended up in the armory, but he was thankful. Tallin had always used his dragon stone to store energy. Each time he touched it, waves of energy flooded back into his weakened body. With the stone in his possession, he also was able to feel Duskeye—badly injured, but alive, deep below the castle in Vosper’s cavernous dungeons.
Still in disguise, Tallin ran down to the caverns below the castle. There were two guards at the entrance, and Tallin walked by them quietly.
“I’m down here checking on a prisoner for the captain,” he said. The guards allowed him to pass without incident. His anger built up inside, but fighting these men would take energy that he couldn’t spare. In order to heal Duskeye, he knew he would have to save his strength.
The conditions in the dungeons were deplorable. The smell of rotting flesh was overwhelming, and he vomited. Tallin sensed Duskeye at the edge of his consciousness—his friend was at the brink of death. “Hold on, my friend!” Tallin said, trying to communicate with Duskeye. There was no response. The dragon was too weak.
Tallin continued to walk deeper into the caves, and the stench increased. Partially decomposed corpses, still chained to the walls, softened and putrefied next to prisoners who were still alive. The smell of mold, straw, and something much worse… as Tallin walked farther, he came upon an open fire pit. A man, wrapped in chains, was hanging above it. He had been cooked. Tallin shuddered, but continued to walk. Finally, he found Duskeye, chained by the neck to a brick wall. His feet were also immobilized with chains. The chains were so short that they prevented him from turning his body. He couldn’t even lie down. Duskeye’s bones poked through the skin, and many of his scales were missing. A shattered right leg hung limply to the side. Worst of all, his wings had been flayed, and hung in limp strips. They were unusable. It was worse than Tallin imagined. Would he ever fly again?
Tallin walked over to his companion, tears streaming down his face. One of the dragon’s eyes fluttered open. The other was sealed shut, swollen and caked with blood.
“My old friend,” said Duskeye, weakly. “I knew you were still alive. It was the only thing that gave me the strength to keep going.”
“I swear upon my life, I will never leave your side again. We’re going to get out of here,” said Tallin.
“I cannot fly, my friend. I cannot walk. My body is broken. Take my dragon stone. I will surrender it to you so that you may live. Join both halves, and save yourself.”
“We are leaving here together. A life without you is no life at all.” Tallin reached his hand out and touched Duskeye’s crushed limb. “Curatio!” Tallin’s hands began to glow, and underneath his palm, he felt Duskeye’s bones knit back together. Duskeye groaned in pain.
Tallin fell to one knee, exhausted by the simple effort. He touched the dragon stone again, leeching more of its precious energy. His reserves were depleted, but the stone might hold enough energy to save them both. “There. Can you walk?”
Duskeye moved his leg gingerly, and then touched the ground with his foot. “I can put weight on it.” It was weak, but he could walk with a limp. His skin still looked terrible, but at least the bones were healed. “Let us go. I can walk.” Tallin’s humble spell was a triumph, and it would allow them to escape.
“We must hurry!”
“Do not worry, my friend. The guards come down here only rarely. I have not been fed for a long time.”
“That’s actually good news for us. We may have more time to plan our escape from this abyss. I left a decoy in my cell. If we’re fortunate, we’ll have a day to escape.”
“It has been two days since I’ve seen the emperor’s torturer. The last time he paid a visit, he ignored me, and strung that poor wretch above the fire pit.” Duskeye pointed at the corpse. “Vosper came down here himself. He smiled, and watched the man scream for about an
hour. Then he left him here to roast over the fire. The prisoner screamed for hours before he died.”
“This place is the very heart of evil, and Vosper is its master,” said Tallin. After unlocking Duskeye’s shackles, they hobbled into the caves underneath the castle, and hid. Tallin spent the night healing Duskeye’s tattered wings. Tallin worked all night, drawing energy from the dragon stone, and from his meager reserves. By the next morning, Duskeye’s wings were healed enough to fly short distances. Tallin was an accomplished mage before he was captured, but escaping the castle tested his abilities to their limit. It was two days before the emperor noticed that Tallin was missing, but by then, they were gone. Duskeye flew small distances as he could, and Tallin cast a spell to camouflage them whenever there was a chance they could be seen.
The emperor sent necromancers out to search for them, but Tallin used elaborate spells to conceal them. They also zigzagged across the land, choosing a less obvious route. Afraid to trust anyone, they traveled only at night, slowly making their way across Durn to the Death Sands. They knew it was the only place where they could be safe. They survived by scavenging through the countryside. They ate rats, grubs and, when they were lucky, stolen livestock. A month later, they finally reached the Death Sands, where they hid. They told no one about their escape or their location, even other dragon riders.
It took them a year to physically recover from their ordeal. Their wounds healed, but the emotional scars would last forever.
“Tallin—Tallin, are you woolgathering again?” Duskeye asked.
“Just thinking about old times, my friend.”
“As always. We are nearly there.”
“Right. I am ready.” Tallin raised his hands, and the air shimmered around them. The Elder Willow came into view. In the moonlight, the tree was clearly visible. It was magnificent.
The Elder Willow was massive, knotted, with branches reaching out hundreds of feet. As they approached, an angry tree sprite buzzed forward. It was ugly, small, and greenish, with a long nose. Its white hair was tangled in countless knots. The sprite had clear wings, which were shaped like a butterfly’s, but larger. It flew up to Tallin and Duskeye, but it did not attempt to harm them. If Tallin had been human, the sprite could have attacked him with thorns, bees, or some minor spell.
Tallin waved it off. “Shoo! Stop bothering us, you little pest.” The sprite scowled, crossing its arms. It hovered around Tallin, watching his movements. Eventually, the sprite circled Duskeye’s head, and kicked the dragon with its little foot. Duskeye flicked his tongue out and licked the sprite, which surprised the little creature. It flew back to the willow and disappeared among the branches.
“Do you sense anything here?” asked Duskeye. He got on all fours and circled the tree.
“No. Only the magic of the forest. Perhaps our trip has been wasted.” They sat for a minute, thinking about what they should do next.
“Well, if someone is hiding here, they wouldn’t have made it that easy for us, would they? Maybe there’s a riddle we have to solve.”
The sprite came down from the branches and pointed to a knot in the tree. Tallin felt inside and pulled out a flat stone. It was white, flat, and as smooth as glass.
“So, what do you think, old friend?”
“Let me see it.” Tallin held up the stone, and Duskeye cocked his head so he could examine it with his good eye. “It looks like a runestone. We just have to figure out how to unlock it.”
“I haven’t seen a white runestone in ages. I’ve seen quite a few black ones, though. And recently. They’re used for black magic. Lazy spellcasters use them, because they can set a charm within the stone and leave it. But you can never guarantee who is going to pick it up, so it’s a very imprecise way to set a trap. The first time I saw one, it was during my first year of study at Aonach. The black ones can be nasty, so I just left it where I found it.”
“The white ones can be nasty, too. Don’t they usually cause amnesia?”
“Yes. But it’s better than the black ones. A black runestone usually causes death.” Tallin stared at the stone for a moment, turning it over in his palm. “Pārēre!” he said, and the stone began to glow. Carved runes appeared on its surface. It was another riddle.
I am forever hungry,
I must be fed,
Feed me and I live,
Water me and I die.
“That old chestnut? The answer is fire. I learned that riddle when I was a child,” said Tallin. “Now, what completes the riddle?”
“Tallin, I think we need to decide what we’re going to do… and fast,” said Duskeye.
Tallin looked up and saw a swarm filling the sky. It was hundreds of tree sprites, all coming to the Elder Willow. They were gathering to defend it. As they touched down, he heard their wings buzzing, like the sound of a thousand bees. They glowed like fireflies.
While a single sprite was simply annoying, a dozen sprites could easily kill a man, and a hundred of them could kill even an experienced mage like Tallin. Their magic is raw, erratic, and capricious. Sprites are powerful in numbers, because their power is virtually unlimited—they collect their strength from the forest itself. They noise was deafening, and Tallin’s ears started to burn.
“By Baghra, this doesn’t look good. We’ve got to get out of here!”
“Can we fight them?” asked Duskeye.
“There’s no way that we could kill them all. There are hundreds, maybe thousands. We’ve got to figure this out, and fast.”
“Tallin, I’ve got an idea. Throw the stone in the air.” Tallin complied, and dragon’s fire erupted from Duskeye’s mouth, showering the stone with white flame. The stone burst apart midair, like a popped acorn, revealing a glowing key.
“Grab it!”
Duskeye reached down and flipped the key to Tallin with his tongue. The sprites were circling around them now, throwing rocks, pebbles, and thorns. Tallin started to feel sick. He reached back into the knothole and felt to the bottom. There was a keyhole. He inserted the key just in time—the base of the tree opened up, revealing a passage that had not been visible before.
“Let’s get out of here!” screamed Tallin, and they squeezed through the opening. The sprites swarmed angrily around them, but did not follow them into the tree. Once they had entered the passage, the opening slammed shut behind them. They stood in darkness, so Duskeye produced a tiny flame from his nostrils to light the way.
The passage became a tunnel, lined with tree roots, winding deep underground. “I can’t see the end of it. We’re just going to have to walk down and hope for the best. Keep your guard up,” warned Tallin.
The corridor was narrow, and Duskeye’s back scraped the ceiling in some areas. After a few minutes, they came to a larger room. It was as silent as a tomb.
“Something’s here,” said Duskeye.
“I know. I can feel it, too. Give us a little more light.”
Duskeye opened his mouth, and the light flared.
There, lying in the corner of the room, sitting quietly in the dark, was Starclaw. Her faded emerald scales glittered in the firelight. And to her left sat her rider, Chua, the fallen one. Tallin stepped closer—and gasped.
The dragon and her rider stared ahead with eyeless sockets. Gaping holes remained where their eyes had once been. And there was more. Chua sat under a blanket, but Tallin could see that his legs had been severed. Stormclaw stood up, and as she did so, her wings unfurled. Her right wing was almost completely gone; it had been torn off at the shoulder. Duskeye shuddered. A dragon who could not fly or see? What kind of travesty was this?
They were alive… but horribly disfigured. Tallin and Duskeye stood mute with shock. Even after what he endured in the emperor’s dungeons, Tallin knew that this was the worst he had ever seen.
And then, Starclaw spoke. “Please, dragon friend… and rider… come and sit with us. We have much to discuss.”
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Dragon Stones (Book One in the Dragon Stone Saga) Page 19
