by James Maxey
Aurora said, “I’d be fine with that, except we’re going to be fighting for our lives together against Greatshadow. Among my people, it’s important to know the mind of the person you’re standing shoulder to shoulder with. If you and I must be allies, shouldn’t we make at least some small attempt to be friends?”
“My mind is no great mystery,” said Father Ver. “I’ve come here to make a stand for what is good; against an evil as strong as Greatshadow, I grudgingly agree to stand shoulder to shoulder with monsters. I don’t like you, ogre, and will never be your friend. But, in battle, know that I will surrender my life to save yours should victory demand it. You do not need my friendship. You have something far more valuable: my sacred word.”
Aurora nodded slightly, then returned to her star-gazing, letting the rest of their shift pass in silence. And though Father Ver never acknowledged it, let alone thanked her, the air around the gate was cold and dry, and frost-covered mosquitoes fell like snowflakes around them.
“M UH HUHN HURS, ” moaned No-Face, rubbing his bandaged hand as he leaned against the stone gate and peered out into the darkness.
Menagerie sat cross-legged on the ground, his hands resting lightly on his knees. He said, “I know your hand hurts. Talking about it won’t make it feel better. Listen.”
No-Face tilted his head. The forest was cacophonous with life; frogs, bugs, and night-birds shouting with all their power to catch the attention of potential mates. It took a moment’s concentration to pick out a distant, dull, doom, doom, doom.
“Guh?”
“War drums. They say the Death Angel has returned.”
No-Face pointed a finger at his own chest.
“Don’t flatter yourself. They mean Infidel. Apparently she did something to piss them off.”
No-Face chuckled, low and gravelly, then said, “Muhbuh shuh fuhd. Huh huh huh.”
“Yeah, right.”
They both fell silent, listening to the bass pulse beneath the thrumming ocean of sound.
Menagerie craned his neck, following the bouncing signals. He allowed himself a slight smile. “The Cracked Earth tribe reports a bad omen. The goat they tossed into the lava screamed three times before it died. Attacking tonight would bring certain disaster.”
“Grah,” said No-Face, his shoulders sagging.
“Don’t sound so disappointed. You’ll see plenty of action. We won’t have Reeker around for wide area control. I’m already out of blood for some of my big cats. I need you to fight smart.”
No-Face wrapped his chain around his damaged hand, then spun around and punched the stone beside him, sending out a spray of sparks. The sharp crack of the blow momentarily silenced the nearest wildlife, leaving only the throb of the drums, which suddenly quickened their pace. No-Face lowered his hand, his one eye gleaming with satisfaction at the dinner-plate-sized crater he’d made in the solid rock.
“Gut duh jub dum muh wah!”
“Fine then,” Menagerie said, shaking his head. “Fight the way you always fight.”
The bugs began to buzz again as the two men fell into silence. Soon the drums vanished once more beneath the sonic waves of life.
“Duhm,” said No-Face, rubbing his knuckles. “Muh Rukuh.”
“I know,” said Menagerie, staring into the darkness. “I miss him too.”
Since we’d left the Jawa Fruit tribe, Tower had barely made eye contact with Infidel. When I spied on him at night, his prayers had been especially heavy with the whole “wisdom to know lust from love” theme. With any luck, he’d decide to just forget Infidel and find some nice girl whose life wasn’t an affront to all he held holy.
The two of them walked up to relieve the Goons. Lord Tower was fully dressed in his armor; I couldn’t see his face. Infidel strolled behind him, biting her lower lip. Her expression could have been nervousness… or it could have been anticipation.
“You hear the war drums?” Menagerie asked as Tower reached the gates.
“No,” said Tower.
“The pygmies aren’t happy we’re here. But, the Cracked Earth tribe is refusing to take part in an attack tonight. Bad omens.”
“Excellent,” said Tower. “We won’t be here tomorrow night. I see no reason for unnecessary bloodshed.”
“Hukhuh,” said No-Face.
“He’s right,” said Menagerie. “They aren’t going to attack Hookhand either. With your permission, we’ll slip down to their camp and finish them off.”
Tower cocked his head. “Why would we want to do that?”
Menagerie looked genuinely startled by the question. “We’re going to be too busy fighting the dragon to secure any treasures we might find along the way. We don’t want Hookhand to slip in behind us and start looting before we even have time to make an inventory.”
“They don’t even know we’re here,” said Tower.
“Which makes this the perfect time to take them by surprise,” said Menagerie, grinding his fist into his palm.
“I’m not going to order innocent men be put to death simply because they had the misfortune of camping near us.”
“Innocent?” Menagerie stared at the knight in shock. “You don’t earn a name like Hookhand and the Machete Quartet by being good citizens. We need to-”
“I’ve heard your concerns,” Tower said. “I’ve made my decision. If Hookhand bothers us, we’ll deal with him. For now, get some rest.”
Menagerie opened his mouth to argue further, then caught himself. He said, tersely, “Yes sir,” then headed back to the sleeping area with No-Face close behind, rattling his chain.
Once they were several yards away, Tower pulled off his helmet. He produced the small leather-bound book from his hip compartment, opened it to a blank page, and tapped his helmet against it. There was a bubble of light, a sound like ripping paper, and the helmet was gone. The blank page now had a drawing of a helmet upon it.
“That’s damn convenient,” said Infidel, her eyes wide as she looked at the book. Her expression changed to a frown as she rubbed her jaw. “Man, it feels weird to talk after being quiet for so long.” She pursed her lips, licking them. “The words tickle my mouth.”
“I have something else to tickle your mouth,” said Tower, leaning forward, his eyes closed, his lips puckered.
He kissed only air. She stepped backward at the last second.
“Careful,” said Infidel, glancing back toward camp. “The Goons aren’t in bed yet. You don’t want them to see anything.”
“Let them see,” said Tower, stepping toward her, grabbing her by the arms. “Soon, I shall declare my love to the entire world!”
“Soon, maybe, but not now,” said Infidel. “We don’t want to get Father Ver all riled up.”
Tower’s grip loosened on her arms at the mention of the holy man. His eyes locked on hers in a look of fierce confidence. “Since last we spoke, I have searched my soul. You asked if I would obey Father Ver if he ordered that I arrest you. At the time, I was greatly troubled by the question. Now, I have no doubt. I would fight to the death to protect you, even against Father Ver. My love for you is greater than blind obedience to authority.”
“Ooooh,” said Infidel. “That kind of attitude will get you put on the naughty list. Believe me, I know.”
“Let it be so. I would suffer the torments of hell for a single night in your arms, my love,” he said, his voice low and serious.
Infidel pushed his hands off her arms and turned her back to him. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I mean, I’m flattered. Really, it’s a very nice thing to say. But, I hate to think I just lugged a half-ton of gear across a million miles of goat trails for nothing. We’ve got a dragon to hunt. After we kill it, we can start discussing, you know, romantic stuff. For now, we need to stay focused on the task at hand. Like… well, for instance, I was wondering if you had, I don’t know, any sort of special weapon to use against Greatshadow? I mean, your hammer didn’t even make a dent in that little fire lizard we fought.”
“Nope. Never. Tell me about it,” said Infidel.
“The Jagged Heart was a weapon revered by the ice-ogres. It’s a harpoon tipped with a fragment of the shattered heart of Hush, the primal dragon of cold. Once, she was in love with Greatshadow, but she betrayed his trust in an affair with Glorious, the primal dragon of the sun. After Glorious went on to reject her, Greatshadow spurned her as well. Hush’s heart broke into a thousand shards, the largest of which was turned into a harpoon by the ice ogres.”
“Sound’s painful. Must not have been fatal, however. Hush is still a power up north.”
“As elemental creatures, primal dragons obey different physical rules. Hush endures, but her bitterness still chills much of the world.”
“And this Jagged Heart is pretty powerful, huh?”
“It’s cold is such that it extinguishes any heat or flame. Anything it touches shatters, be it steel or dragon hide.”
“Anything? How about your armor?”
“My armor could resist the cold. It’s composed of prayer and faith rather than base matter. As long as the monks maintain their vigilance, I’m immune from all harm.”
Infidel leaned close, placing a hand on his chest. “So… nothing can break through it? Nothing at all?” She ran her fingers along his breastplate. “Oh,” she said, her eyes widening. “It doesn’t feel like metal. It’s warm. And sort of… silky.” She breathed on it, then rubbed her finger. “I notice it doesn’t show fingerprints, either.”
“You may touch it as much as you desire,” said Tower, his voice purring. “It will always maintain its pristine condition.”
Infidel pulled her hand away. “So, uh, the Jagged Heart’s a harpoon? Those are pretty big. You obviously aren’t carrying it. I guess that book stores more than just your armor?”
“Yes,” said Tower. “It’s filled with many types of equipment. And, on the final page, anything I write is instantly duplicated in a matching book in the monastery. They may also add items to their book for my use.”
“And that’s how you’d trigger the X sanction?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Don’t you think it’s creepy that we’re working with someone who’s kinda, sorta dead? I mean, I never got along with my father, but I didn’t think he’d get involved with necromancy. I especially didn’t think the church would go along with something like this.”
“The needs of a king and the needs of the church don’t always overlap,” said Tower. He looked toward the faint glow of the caldera. It had been especially calm ever since the eruption. “Of course, sometimes they do. The church hates all primal dragons. The king wants this island for its natural wealth.” He waved his gauntleted hand toward the forest. “Think of the navy that can be built with such an endless supply of large trees. We’ve long ago exhausted all useful timber on the Silver Isles, and now the forests on the Isle of Apes are producing fewer and fewer large trees. Anywhere the king searches for new resources, he finds primal dragons standing in the way. But, plans have now been set in motion to rid the world not just of Greatshadow, but of all the dragons. In the not so distant future, King Brightmoon will face no barriers at all in his quest to expand our great civilization.”
“Hmm,” said Infidel, running her hands along the seams of his chest plate, tracing the joints lightly with her fingernails. “I suppose ruling the world does excuse a little necromancy.”
Tower stared deeply into Infidel’s eyes. “And you, my lovely princess, you are the last surviving link to the bloodline of your father. Our children will have the sole claim to inherit the crown. Think of it, my darling: the product of my seed and your womb will hold dominion over the earth!”
Infidel met his gaze, and said, “This is quite a vision.”
“A grand vision,” said Tower. “And a true one. I believe with all my heart that our story is the central narrative of the One True Book. Our life and love are the very core of history. It is destiny. Our destiny.”
Infidel turned her back to him. “You’ll pardon me if I need some time to think about this. This is quite a lot to swallow.”
“Would it help if you had something sweet and cream-filled to swallow first?” Tower asked.
At first I assumed this was the worst sexual innuendo I’d ever heard, but Tower surprised me by turning to a new page in the book and tapping it. Instantly the night air was cut through by the scent of vanilla. Infidel’s nose twitched as she peeked back over her shoulder. Her face lit up with a huge grin as she spun around.
Tower was holding a silver plate on which set the tallest slice of cake I’d ever seen. The dessert was composed of seven inch-thick layers of golden cake separated by velvety frosting as white as fresh snow. The whole plate was dusted with confectioner’s sugar and delicate daisy petals composed of frosting. As Infidel stared at the pastry, I felt a surge of delight to see her smiling so after such a long period of sadness, then a surge of jealousy that I wasn’t responsible for her joy.
“I wrote the monks and asked them to hire the finest bakers. They placed the result into my book only hours ago. Enjoy!”
Tower produced a fork as he spoke, but it was too late. Infidel had already snatched up the confection with her fingers and was shoving it into her mouth. She might have been raised in a palace, but she’d had fifteen years in Commonground to shed any table manners. I hoped that Tower might be turned off by the sight of such messy hunger.
Instead, his own eyes as he stared at her frosting covered lips told of a deeper hunger still.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THRONE
The war drums ended at dawn. Silver mist covered the black stones of the courtyard as the sunbeams seeped through the trees. The dragon-hunters woke to a breakfast of dried sausages and bananas.
Father Ver unrolled the golden map on a section of lichen-covered column. Everyone gathered around, chewing their sausages as they looked at the gleaming scroll.
Aurora was the first to break the silence. “So this is really going to happen. We’re going face to face with Greatshadow.”
Lord Tower nodded. “We’ve paid a steep price to come this far. Yet, when I look around this courtyard, I’m certain we shall succeed. Never before has the dragon faced a band of adventurers with our combined power.”
“It isn’t power that will guarantee our victory,” said Father Ver. “It’s the rightness of our cause. We’re the champions of truth, pitting ourselves against the living embodiment of falsehood. We must not fail.”
Zetetic opened his mouth, inhaling to speak.
Ver cut him off with a raised hand. “We know your thoughts on the matter.”
“Not all of them,” said the Deceiver. “You’ve dragged me back from the grave for this mission. That’s an admission that you can’t do this without me. I’d like to name my terms.”
“You’ll do what we tell you,” said Father Ver, “or you will die.”
“You admit I do have a choice,” said Zetetic.
“You won’t disobey,” said Tower. “You’ve proven your instincts for self-preservation.”
“Which is why I’m not thrilled about being drafted for this suicide mission. But, let’s pretend for a moment that there’s one chance in a million we’ll beat Greatshadow. Our goal, while unlikely, isn’t impossible. Assuming we come out of this alive, I have certain demands.”
“You’re in no position to issue demands,” grumbled Father Ver.
Tower said, “I’d like to hear them.”
Father Ver raised his eyebrows. Even the Deceiver looked surprised.
Tower said, “Believe it or not, Zetetic, I’d prefer you were a willing member of this party. If there is something you want that we can provide, tell us.”
Zetetic looked off balance, as if he hadn’t expected Tower to actually listen. He cleared his throat. “Very well. Of
all the reasons I’ve heard for doing this, Relic’s motive is the only one that makes sense to me. Look around you. We’re standing in the middle of a fallen civilization once more advanced than our own. Within Greatshadow’s lair, we’ll find artifacts of these people. Our understanding of the world could be forever changed by what we learn of their science, their religion, and their art.”
“The fact that their civilization failed is evidence that they had nothing of value to offer us,” said Father Ver.
“Nonetheless, if we do survive this, I don’t want to see the artifacts simply looted. I’ll promise my willing cooperation on one condition: I get to review each item we recover for cultural, historical, and magical significance. I don’t want to unearth these treasures merely so that the king can use the jewels to decorate his toilet.”
“We cannot grant this,” said Father Ver, wasting no time to consider the offer. “We shall bring in monks to catalog the treasure. The mercenaries will be compensated according to their contracts, and what remains will be divided between the church and the king.”
“The church and the king are wealthy enough,” said Zetetic. “The king will get the island and its natural wealth. The church will grow as it boasts of an evil vanquished. The only treasure I seek is knowledge. I’ve traveled the world, driven by my hunger to learn more. I’ve explored palaces beneath the waves, and studied in cities built upon clouds. Greatshadow’s hoard is a doorway to a new land: the distant past.”
Father Ver shook his head. “We know all we need to of the Vanished Kingdom. The thing we are most certain of is that these poor men followed mistaken religions. Time has erased their failed gods from memory; should any idols of these false faiths be found, we must destroy them so that no weak-minded men can be led astray.”
“Your church claims to honor truth above all,” said Zetetic. “Yet you seek to erase the truth of earlier times. We should document and study-”
