“Found nothing?”
“We dug everywhere in our garden,” said Ritika, “but there was nothing. Our neighbours probably thought us crazy.”
“What the neighbours think doesn't matter,” said her mother, “but I wonder if their gardens are hiding other possible scrolls.”
“That’s a point,” said Mortugal. “But asking your neighbours to search their gardens won’t be a great idea. It might attract too much attention. If any Bnome sees that the entire village is busy digging gardens, then he might inform Malthur, and I don’t know what would happen next.”
“So what do we do now?” Ritika asked. “Should we travel to Dragonland?”
“Hmmm,” Mortugal said, and he got up— for the first time since yesterday night— such that his horns almost hit the roof of the cave.
And then all four of them heard the music. It came from inside the cave and was a music of great tragedy. They couldn’t help but exchange looks.
“Is that a flute?” Amit asked. The music was somewhere between the sound of wind and the sound of a flute.
“It isn’t,” Mortugal said, and the astonishment in his voice was clear. “It’s dragon song.”
“Dragon song?” Ritika asked.
“It’s begging me to come,” the dragon said. He turned around and hurried off towards the depths of the cave.
“Hey, it’s dangerous!” Amit cried and ran after Mortugal. The two vampires came too, echoing his words. Ritika’s mother had brought a torch along but it’s glow only reached up to a few metres ahead, and as Amit rushed after the fast moving Mortugal, he could only see the end of his tail.
“Mortugal, wait!” Amit said, and the dragon abruptly stopped, so that Amit, overcome by speed, almost hit against him.
The two vampires reached too, and only now did the yellow light from the torch reveal the reason behind the dragon’s abrupt halt.
A skeleton lay just in the middle of their path.
“It’s a vampire,” Mortugal said, touching the fangs of the skeleton. Rotting cloth and dried skin still stuck to certain parts of the skeleton, and it was a grotesque sight for Amit, who had never seen anything of the kind before.
“People have died here,” Ruponi said, her words filled with anger for Mortugal who had flung caution to the air. Meanwhile, the dragon song played on.
“What killed him?” Amit asked. The skeleton’s size resembled the size of a man, leading him to believe it was of a male vampire’s.
“Look here,” Mortugal pointed at the back of the skull, which was smashed. “That must have been quite painful, though I reckon he died quickly.”
“Somebody, or something did it no doubt,” Ritika said. Amit agreed. He didn’t think it was possible for the vampire to have sustained such an injury simply by slipping and falling.
“The dragon song,” Mortugal said, “it’s calling me. I must find out who is singing. You three don’t need to come.”
“I am going with you,” Amit said, although he shivered with the thought of the many skeletons that might be lying ahead.
“And so are we,” said Ruponi.
Mortugal looked at the three of three with thankful eyes.
“Then come, let’s not tarry.”
And they went into the depths of the cave, Mortugal maintaining a more cautious and slow pace so his companions could follow along.
After some time they reached a point in the cave from where the tunnel lead upwards, possibly towards the centre of the hill. This was followed by a place where the tunnel was very constricted and Mortugal had to bend his neck low to keep moving. All the while, the dragon song kept getting louder and louder.
Suddenly, the constricted part of the tunnel ended, leading to a part that was big enough to be called a hall. And then they saw the statues.
They were gargantuan, almost twice the height of Mortugal. There were ten of them and they stood in rows of five on both sides of the cave. Amit couldn’t help but think that they resembled the ugly Bnomes with their oversized noses.
“What are these?” Mortugal said.
“They look like Bnomes, don’t they?” Amit said.
“I never knew there were statues inside this cave,” said Ruponi with wide eyes. “And I have been living in this village for a long time.”
Then Amit’s eyes fell on a square outline ahead. He took the torch from Ruponi and went a few steps forward. The light from the torch fell on the outline.
“It’s a door!” he told the others.
All four went to the great door, which was even taller than the stone statues. It was made of wood, which must have been quite strong once but had rotted now.
“Move aside,” Mortugal said.
They did so, and the dragon threw himself at the door, breaking through it and falling onto the other side.
“What’s the use of a door like that?” he said with a chuckle from the other side. Amit and the vampires too passed through the hole that Mortugal had created— only to see that Mortugal was lying on the very edge of a cliff.
“Oh, boy,” he said. “I didn’t see that. I could have fallen.”
It was then that the dragon song suddenly stopped. Amit held out the torch, but it couldn’t illuminate even a tiny portion of the massive chamber inside the hill that they had reached. Who knew what lay ahead and below.
“Look, there are steps!” Ritika said suddenly, pointing at a side. Why, there were in fact. So it’s possible to go down without dying, Amit thought.
“What happened to the dragon song?” Mortugal asked.
“Is it you, Mortugal?” a weak voice said from down below and the moment seemed to freeze.
“H-How do you know my name?” Mortugal asked the voice.
“It’s me, old friend.”
“Norhul!” Mortugal exclaimed. “Where are you? I can’t see you.”
“I can,” Norhul replied. His voice sounded very fragile, as though each word was said with a lot of effort. “Follow those steps down.”
And all four of them rushed down the steps, Amit leading with the torch. It was a long way down with more than two hundred steps. The last step led onto a floor. Amit still couldn’t see Norhul, so he went forwards in the direction from where his voice had come. After a moment the torch illuminated a great dragon lying on the centre of the floor, fat iron chains fastened to his limbs and wings.
“Oh my,” said Mortugal, “what has happened to you, Norhul?”
Norhul seemed to have lost a lot of weight, his ribs clearly visible. He was lying with his head resting on the floor and didn’t seem to have the energy to raise his head when they approached him, although his eyes looked their way. Unlike Mortugal though, Norhul had scales.
“Well, I have become weak,” said Norhul. “But I am glad you at least remember me.”
“You were the one singing the dragon song, weren’t you?” Mortugal asked.
“Yes. Since yesterday I have been sensing the presence of a fellow dragon close by. Decided to try my luck today if you could hear me, and so I sang.”
“How long have you been like this?”
“Just a year or two less than as long as you were slumbering.”
“Did you write the scrolls?” Ritika’s mother asked.
“Yes,” Norhul said, “you three are vampires? But you couldn’t possibly have awakened Mortugal that way.” Norhul looked close to dying and Amit wondered how the dragon could go on talking.
“I am a human,” Amit said.
“Tell me Norhul, who did this to you?” Mortugal asked.
“Same person who gave you that fur and robbed you of your fire. Malthur.”
“I remember little, Norhul,” Mortugal said. “Tell me everything so I can seek revenge.”
Now Amit didn’t know if that was a good idea for Norhul’s well being. He feared the dragon’s jaws would fall down the more he looked at them. But it was clear that Norhul had been alone inside the hill for a very long period of time, and Amit realised that it was t
he excitement of finally talking to someone that was powering Norhul.
“It’s not your fault that you remember little,” said Norhul, “you were fed some strange concoction of the Bnomes that messed up your mind. Malthur did it so that you would not want to come out of your lake.”
“I remember going to that lake in a fury,” Mortugal said.
“I saw you on your worst day,” said Norhul, “you seemed to be possessed by something and weren’t the dragon I had known. But anybody would have gone the same. Corpsia refused to have you as her soul-mate, Malthur cursed you so that you had fur instead of scales, and the dragons laughed at you. You killed so many Bnomes that day, and I can only admire your self control that you didn’t kill any of the dragons.”
“I remember now,” Mortugal said, “my fellow dragons were who most angered me. Their laughter echoes in my head.”
“Yes, the traditions of us dragons are pathetic,” said Norhul, “if you are weak, they laugh at you and throw you out of their clan… But look at the irony, my friend,” Norhul let out a chuckle, “every fifty years a Bnome visits me and checks whether I am alive, which is how I know the newer tongue. The last time the Bnome visited me, he took a lot of pleasure in telling me that the entire dragon clan is now an alley of Malthur, and that he controls many aspects of their lives.”
“That’s a pity,” said Mortugal. “What happened to the dragon king?”
“Killed maybe, I don’t know.”
“Um,” Ritika’s mother chimed in, “you wrote in the scroll that Mortugal is the only being capable of ending the war, why is that so?”
“The war between the Vampires and the Werewolves?” Norhul asked.
“Yes.”
“Does Malthur need the war?” Amit asked, recalling the letter.
“Let me recount everything from the beginning,” Norhul said. He cleared his throat and tried to raise his head. He failed, but spoke on.
“The Undead King Malthur and the last of the Great Dragons created this world. But Malthur was decisive and he wanted to rule alone. He wanted to control every aspect of the lives of the creatures he had created. But anything once created grows and changes.”
“Um, didn’t the gods create this world?" Amit asked. He didn’t fell great interrupting the weak dragon, but he was too curios as Norhul was going against conventional believes of the humans and the other races.
“They did,” Norhul said, “but indirectly. Both the last Great Dragon and Malthur were their servants. The Dragon wanted this world to be populated only by dragons and the uncursed race— the humans, while Malthur wanted to curse as many humans as possible and convert them to other races, just because he liked seeing weaknesses in others. Both finally decided that some of the humans would be left uncursed, while the others would be converted into three other races— Vampires, Werewolves and the Bnomes.
“Malthur wanted the Bnomes to serve him only so he made them dim witted and willing to follow his every command. He let the Vampire and the Werewolves have free will due to the Dragon’s pressure. And then, like I said, things grow and change. Humans, Vampires and Werewolves resided in peace during the very early days, while the dragons resided alone in the north. The Bnomes, influenced by Malthur, despised all other races. But as time passed, some of them began to question Malthur, since they could see that the other races were leading much better lives than themselves.
“Now Malthur wanted to keep them under control. So he created Hatred— and I am not referring to the emotion. Hatred is a magical artefact which is the source of all hate between the Vampires and the Werewolves. I do not know how Hatred looks like or where it is located.
“Anyway, it was this Hatred which somehow fuelled Malthur’s strength and helped him keep the Bnomes under control. He did this all without the knowledge of the Great Dragon or the gods and when they finally got to know about it, they removed Malthur from the position of a secondary creator and forbid him from ever going to the God Realm.
“This made the under Malthur lose his head and seek revenge. Since the gods had cut all support to him, he feared that he would die again. So he performed a complicated ritual which allowed him to survive as long as the Bnomes were around. And to keep the Bnomes under control he needed the Hatred. Malthur has been making the Hatred more and more efficient so that it can create larger amounts of hate between the Vampires and the Werewolves, hoping that someday he would become powerful enough to challenge the gods and take his revenge on them.”
“But where do I come in this?” Mortugal asked. “Why am I supposed to be the only one capable of ending the hatred between the two races?”
“That I don’t know,” Norhul said. “All this was told to me by none other than the last of the Great Dragons himself just before he had to flee this world. He said that the Hatred had become too efficient in creating hate, and it had become impossible for him to stay here anymore. And that was centuries back. You can imagine how powerful Malthur might have become. But I reckon you must find the location of Hatred first, before you attempt to destroy it.”
“Why is it that only the Vampires are suffering?” Ritika asked. “Humans accept the presence of werewolves around them, but they are tolerating us less and less.” A twinge of sorrow struck Amit at these words, especially since he had initially told Ritika and Ruponi that he would help them only on the occasion that they leave his village.
“The reason is Malthur once again,” Norhul said. “He put his worst desires into the Vampire race— the thirst for blood. Malthur, being an undead, has no blood in him. Like Vampires he too must drink blood in order to survive. At first it was only the Werewolves who hated the Vampires, but as Malthur gains power he is trying to spread the seeds of Hatred even among the humans.”
“Why did Malthur curse me with this fur,” Mortugal asked, “and turn me into a joke?”
“I do not know that. The Great Dragon had to go before he could tell me everything. I wrote everything down in a scroll—”
“We found it,” Ruponi said.
“Which explains how you were able to awaken my friend,” Norhul said. “But barely did I complete it that Malthur came, and I had to flee. Just before Malthur caught me though, I managed to bury the chest that contained the scroll and the nail in a small Vampire village outside this hill.”
“I don’t understand why you wrote it in Vampree, instead of Dragon tongue,” said Mortugal.
“I was the only non-Vampire at that time who knew how to write Vampree,” said Norhul, “plus, I wrote it in Vampire country. I knew that only a vampire would be enough driven to awaken you.”
Mortugal exhaled. Amit saw that the dragon’s gaze was fixed on the chains bound to Norhul’s limbs.
“Let me take these chains off you, old friend,” Mortugal said.
“No!” Norhul said. But too late, the furry dragon hit one of the chains hard with his claws, breaking it. Immediately, Amit heard rumbling noises coming from the hall of the statues above.
“What was that?” Amit asked.
“The Stone Bnomes,” Norhul said, terror in his pale face. “You shouldn’t have done that, Mortugal. The Stone Bnomes will come alive and kill anybody who tries to free me.”
“Rubbish,” said Mortugal. “I am not leaving this place without you.” And he prepared to strike another chain.
“No!” said Norhul, making Mortugal stop mid-action.
“They are coming!” Ritika said, pointing at the movement of massive shadows high up near the broken door.
“I cannot leave without you, Norhul,” said Mortugal.
“But you must,” said Norhul and he meant it. “You must think about your companions. The more chains you break the more Stone Bnomes will come alive. And there are the undead mummies on top of that.”
Two Stones Bnomes had come alive due to the breaking of one chain, and they made their way down the steps. Suddenly, ropes fell from above all around Norhul, and several short undead Bnomes landed around him from high up using the
ropes. Their eyes blazed red and ancient bandages covered their bodies. They were carrying thick clubs, and Amit could easily imagine one of those clubs shattering the skull of the Vampire they had earlier found.
“We need to escape,” said Ritika, and in her fright she suddenly caught Amit’s hand. The feel of her soft hand sent strange sensations coursing up his arm, helping him deal with his own fright better, and he gripped her hand tighter.
“I promise I’ll return,” Mortugal said to Norhul as they backed away from the chained dragon and the undead Bnomes. Mortugal lashed his great tail and struck many of the Bnomes, but they still kept coming. Meanwhile the two Stone Bnomes reached the bottom of the steps.
“Climb atop me!” Mortugal ordered Amit and the Vampires. Ritika’s mother climbed up first, and then Amit helped Ritika get up as well. But before he could climb up himself, an undead Bnome hit his leg with a club. At the same time, one of the Stone Bnomes lunged at Mortugal. Mortugal flapped his wings and took to the air, managing to dodge the attack just in time.
But now Amit was alone. He ducked and jumped and ran this way and that trying to escape the undead Bnomes. His torch was his only protection against the attackers and that too was on the verge of dying, getting dimmer and dimmer.
Amit kicked an undead Bnome on the chest and the latter’s club fell down. Amit picked it up and struck the Bnome on the head, resulting in a sickening sound although no blood oozed from the Bnome’s head. Then a Stone Bnome attacked. Though slower than the undead Bnomes, the Stone Bnome was very powerful. He threw a blow at Amit, who managed to scramble away in the nick of time. The giant's fist fell on the floor instead, ripping it and creating a great hole in it. The Stone Bnome withdrew his hand from the hole and prepared from another strike. His companion was meanwhile busy trying to catch the hovering Mortugal.
As the first Bnome threw another blow at Amit, the second one leapt into space in an attempt to grab Mortugal’s tail. Amit ducked, his heart at his throat. The Bnome’s hand went on to strike some of the undead Bnomes who were totally crushed. The second Stone Bnome missed Mortugal’s tail by a mere inch and fell, right on top of a bunch of undead Bnomes— very close to the chained Norhul. As the second Bnome tried to get up, Amit couldn’t help but be thankful because Norhul would have never survived had the Stone Bnome fallen on him.
The Dragon Seeks (A Dragon With Fur Book 2) Page 3
