The Dragons Return

by J. J. Thompson

  Of all the modern conveniences, a flushing toilet was the one he missed the most. The outhouse worked just fine and he'd dug it deep enough and far enough away from the tower that he could use it for years before having to fill it in and move it to a new location.

  But it was freezing cold in the winter and stifling in the summer. And in the heat, mosquitoes tended to bite you in vulnerable spots with no warning at all.

  After his run through the rain, Simon heated some water, washed up and changed into a dry robe. He put on thick socks to keep his feet warm and sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, idly skimming through Daniel's journal.

  Kronk slipped through the door and closed it tightly. He shimmered with water and left a trail across the floor as he made his way to the table and jumped up.

  Simon heaved a sigh, grabbed a dish towel and tossed it on to the table. Kronk stood on it and dripped.

  “Good morning, master,” he said.

  Simon just nodded, not feeling very sociable. He was a bit grumpy in the dampness.

  “The horses are fed and watered,” Kronk continued, not bothered by Simon's mood. “And I cleaned the stable.”

  “Thanks Kronk,” Simon told him grudgingly. It wasn't the little guy's fault that it was a crummy day.

  “My pleasure, master.”

  The elemental looked at Daniel's book on the table in front of Simon.

  “Are you searching for a way to use your true name, master?”

  Simon started and looked closely at the little figure.

  “What makes you say that?”

  Kronk shrugged.

  “The cleric gave you the name, master. And you have to inscribe it on some object to use it when spell-casting. So you must choose what object to use.”

  Simon let out a tired sigh and he flipped through the notebook again, not paying much attention to the illustrations.

  “You're right. I do. But I'm just not sure what to use.”

  He looked at the little elemental, a sudden idea waking him up a bit.

  “What was the most popular focus item used way back in the days of magic? Do you remember?”

  Kronk shook off the last drops of water and looked down at the book thoughtfully.

  “There were many things, master.”

  He walked over to stand next to Simon's shoulder and then reached down, turning each page slowly. When he stopped, a large, two-page illustration was displayed.

  “I think your friend Daniel anticipated your need, master,” Kronk said with a nod at the book.

  Simon leaned forward, amazed that he could have missed something so obvious.

  There were a number of objects drawn in Daniel's fine hand. There was an elaborate staff, its wooden length intricately carved with mystical symbols and a large gem embedded at its top.

  There was a wand, also very fancy-looking, next to the staff. It seemed a bit delicate to Simon and he couldn't imagine himself using such a thing. He turned to the opposite page and looked at several more illustrations.

  A half-dozen rings, some plain, others fancy with gems and runes etched on them were drawn there. There was also a necklace made of gold links and finally there was an object that caught Simon's attention because it seemed so out of place.

  He stared at it and wondered why it hadn't occurred to him to use such a thing.

  It was a belt. Just a belt. Plain leather, simple brass buckle. Something that he guessed the average person would never even notice or consider valuable.

  He tapped the picture and looked at Kronk.

  “Did you ever see a wizard use something like this as a focus?”

  The little guy shook his head and looked less than impressed.

  “No master. It isn't exactly...elegant, is it?”

  “Precisely. I wear a belt loosely on my robes now, to carry my knife and a pouch. I don't even think about it. Now a staff or wand would be an obvious target if someone was trying to neutralize a wizard, don't you think? Get it away from them and they'd lose much of their power. But a belt? Who would even think of that?”

  Kronk looked wisely at him.

  “And it saves you from etching your true name on to your body, does it not, master?”

  Simon stared at him and then laughed loudly. He patted Kronk gently on the shoulder.

  “You know me too well, my friend. You're right. The idea of a tattoo wasn't very appealing to me. But a belt? That I can do.”

  “Then I think it is a good idea, master.”

  Kronk stared at the pictures for another moment and then tapped the drawing of the staff with a foot.

  “Perhaps if you are ever in a situation where you are in danger from enemies, you could carry a staff as a ruse. It might take attention away from the true focus object.”

  “Not bad, Kronk,” Simon said with a grin. “You're a little more devious than I thought you were.”

  The elemental walked back to the damp dish towel, picked it up and wiped a drop of water off of his face. He folded the towel and handed it to Simon.

  “When I need to be, master. If you'd like, I can find a good length of wood in the forest that you can fashion into a staff whenever you wish.”

  Simon took a last look at the pictures and closed the book.

  “Sure, bud. There's no rush, but go ahead if you want to.”

  He got up and went to the front door. He opened it and stared out at the gentle rain. Now that his mood had improved, he had to admit that they had needed some moisture. And it had warmed up somewhat over the last hour or so.

  As he looked out over the front yard to the wall, Simon saw a disturbance in the air, a swirl that looked like a miniature tornado flying through the rain, water spinning from it in all directions.

  “Aeris,” Kronk said from near Simon's right knee. His tone was indifferent but at least it was no longer hostile as it once was. Simon was grateful for that.

  The air elemental flew past them into the tower, showering Simon with water as he went by.

  “Oh gees, Aeris!” Simon said and wiped his face off on his sleeve.

  “And a good morning to you too, Simon,” the disturbance said as it coalesced into the figure of Aeris and floated to hover near the wizard's shoulder.

  “Where have you been this morning?” Simon asked him, dabbing a few water drops off his chin.

  “I decided to check on that human settlement across the river.” His tone was sober and Simon looked at him sharply.

  “Is there something new happening over there?”

  “Yes, I am afraid so.” The little face seemed creased with worry; a new look for Aeris. “The settlement is gone, Simon. It's been totally destroyed.”

  Simon's eyes widened and he gaped at the elemental.

  “Destroyed? By what? I was meaning to talk to Clara about it the next time we spoke and now you say it's gone?”

  “Yes. Gone.”

  Aeris flew over to the table and Simon followed, closing the door behind him. Kronk followed them hurriedly.

  As Simon sat down, Aeris pulled out a sheet of paper from the pile on one side of the table. It was the map he had drawn of the area after his initial scout. He pulled it over and set it in front of Simon.

  “Here is the settlement, as you've already seen,” he said and pointed at the small drawing of several buildings.

  “Okay,” Simon said. “And?”

  “And now it is nothing but a pile of burnt timbers and scattered belongings. All of the true humans are gone. And the few Changlings that lived there have run off.”

  “Gone? No remains?”

  Aeris shook his head.

  “None.”

  “Just like Ottawa,” Simon said under his breath. “Hang on a second. Maybe there was a fight or something and the humans just scattered. Or maybe they decided to settle somewhere else?”

  “I don't think so,” Aeris said and picked up a pencil next to the pile of papers. He drew a line from the settlement to the hills to the north. “There is a beaten path
leading from the hills to the human village and back. There can be no mistake.”

  He exchanged a look with Kronk, who stood next to Simon's elbow. The earth elemental's deep-set eyes widened.

  “Ah. Of course,” he said softly.

  “What?” Simon asked as he looked between them. Kronk stayed silent.

  “Drakes, Simon. The dragon's minions ravaged the settlement, just as I suspect they cleaned up after the dragon attacked your home city.”

  “Drakes? Wait a minute. Isn't a drake the same as a dragon? I'm sure that in the old games I used to play, we used the words interchangeably.”

  “I am not surprised that legend confused the two,” Aeris said. “But drakes are servants of dragons, not dragons themselves. Wizards, even back in ancient times, did not know as much about the great wyrms as we of the air realm do. Our knowledge runs deep and we never forget.”

  He looked searchingly at Simon.

  “When you saw the dragon that day you told me about, the day you met the elf maiden, you saw drakes even if you did not realize it.”

  “I did?” Simon was totally confused. “But all I saw was a god-awfully big monster the size of a jumbo jet. There weren't any other creatures with it.”

  Aeris gave Kronk an inquiring look.

  “Do you know what I'm talking about?”

  “Oh yes. We too remember the drakes,” the little rocky figure said. “We fought them in the distant past. Well, I did not, but our leaders did.”

  He looked up at Simon.

  “Drakes look like wingless copies of dragons. We never knew if they were some sort of cursed offspring of the monsters or something else. But they do the dirty work of their masters, destroying anything that the dragons miss after an attack. Sometimes they are sent to attack targets that are too small to warrant a dragon's attention.” He looked at the map. “Like that village.”

  “But that doesn't explain why Aeris thinks I saw drakes when I saw the dragon.”

  “The dragon's minions are attached to its body like lice,” Aeris said with some disgust. “They cover the entire surface like a coat of maggots. If you saw the dragon's scales, you actually saw its minions.”

  Simon's stomach clenched. What a horrible thought! He stared at the map and then remembered the empty streets of Ottawa, with no human remains to be seen. He had wondered then what had happened to all of the people. Well, now he knew.

  “Oh my God,” he said as he slumped back in his chair. “They were eaten? All of them were consumed by these...abominations?”

  “Yes, master,” Kronk said gently. “I am truly sorry to tell you this. But yes. That is what drakes do. Like a hoard of ants, they destroy any creature they find, living or dead. In some ways, they are even worse than their dragon overlords.”

  “Simon,” Aeris said sharply, snapping him out of his morbid thoughts. “I know it is horrible, but you have to see what this means. If drakes are raiding that closely to the dragon's territory, things are moving faster than we even dreamed. It may mean that distant targets have been eliminated and the dragon is cleaning things up close to home.”

  “Yes.” Simon said slowly, trying to get his mind back on the present and away from thoughts of the last days of his hometown. “Yes, you're right. Things are speeding up.”

  He looked at the map again and made a decision.

  “Aeris, I'd like you to go to Heather's home. Tell her what's happened and tell her about Clara's village. We have to warn her. I don't know if she'll be willing to move but at least she'll have some prior warning in case things start to turn against those of us who have Changed.”

  “Yes, I can do that,” Aeris said with a nod. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah. After you speak with Heather, head to Clara's place and tell her what's happened. We need to keep in touch, exchange ideas on how to deal with drakes, if any show up on this side of the river.”

  “Excellent idea, Simon. And if I may make a suggestion?”

  Simon nodded silently.

  “Make your focus device, whatever it is, and practice. Practice until your mind and body are numb.” He sounded as serious as Simon had ever heard him. “You need access to as much power and as many spells as you can possibly learn. War is coming, perhaps even faster than we dared believe.” Now he smiled grimly. “Remember, I want you to live, as does Kronk here. Gain power, wizard. And do it now.”

  Simon had to smile at the air elemental's honest self-interest. But his suggestion was a good one.

  “I will, Aeris. Now off you go. Pass along the bad news and I'll get to work.”

  Aeris zipped from the room with a little whirring sound and Kronk and Simon exchanged glances.

  “He was right, master. I will go and examine the wall for any flaws. I will also try to strengthen and deepen the footing. A wall can never be too sturdy.”

  Simon stood up and stretched out the kinks in his back.

  “Good idea, my friend. And I'll start work on that damned focus thing. I guess time is no longer on our side.”

  Chapter 13

  The rest of the day Simon spent in his study. The rain continued to fall outside his window as he tried to decide how to inscribe his true name on his belt.

  He would have preferred to cut the name into the leather of the belt itself, but leather could rot, or break and he knew that it had to be something more permanent, so he detached the belt buckle and examined it.

  The buckle was rectangular and made of sturdy brass. It was plain and unremarkable, a bit scuffed up and scratched.

  Perfectly ordinary, Simon thought. Exactly what I need.

  But now he had to figure out how to etch the name on to the back of the buckle.

  Simon looked around the room. Nothing but pencils, paper, books and other items totally useless in this situation. He had tools down in the cellar, but what could he use to cut into brass? A screwdriver? Nails? What?

  He tossed the buckle on to his desk and sat back and stared out at the rain.

  What do I know about metal work, he thought. Now that blacksmith down in Nottinghill could probably help him, but it was a long way away. Maybe he could get Aeris to ask the guy for suggestions? Maybe borrow a tool of some kind to help him do the job?

  Then Simon sat up, blinked several times and groaned loudly.

  “Buddy,” he said to himself, “you are an idiot.”

  Who was an expert in everything to do with the earth, including metal? An earth elemental, of course.

  Simon grabbed the buckle, jumped to his feet and headed for the stairs.

  “Kronk? Kronk! Where are you?” he shouted as he rattled down to the main floor.

  “Coming master,” the little guy's muffled voice called from the cellar.

  Simon heard the rapid tap-tapping coming up from below and a moment later Kronk popped up the cellar stairs and walked over to look up at him.

  “You called, master?”

  “I did. What were you doing down there?” Simon asked curiously.

  “Rearranging the flour barrels along the far wall of the cold storage, master,” Kronk said. “If we are going to begin trading with the cleric and her people, I thought it would be a good idea to make as much room as possible in the cellar.”

  Simon had to smile.

  “You're a big help to me, you know that?”

  “Yes master,” Kronk said simply and Simon chuckled.

  “Good. Listen, I wanted to ask you a question.”

  He sat down at the table and the elemental hopped up and walked over to stand next to him.

  “Of course, master. Anything at all.”

  Simon handed the little guy the buckle and Kronk stared at it, turning it over in his tiny hands.

  “It is a belt buckle, master. It is made of brass.”

  “Um, yeah. I know that. What I was wondering was, do you know a way for me to cut into it, etch it, whatever. Or maybe you could do it? You see, I've decided to write my true name on the back of it and...”

  Kronk dr
opped the buckle on the table and backed away from it so quickly that he fell over. His high-pitched gasp sounded almost like a scream.

  “Oh no, master!” he said in a panic. “Oh, no, no, no! Do not tell me that!”

  “What?” Simon stared at him in confusion. “What the hell's wrong with you? Why shouldn't I tell you?”

  Kronk got to his feet but his eyes were still wide as he stared at Simon.

  “I told you before, master. A wizard must keep his true name totally secret. You cannot tell anyone what it is. Anyone. And that includes me and Aeris.”

  Simon studied the little elemental intently.

  “But you'd never tell anyone, would you? I mean, I trust you, Kronk.”

  “Thank you, master. Of course I would never tell anyone. But I also explained that everything an elemental knows is also known to their lord. Our elder would know the instant you shared your true name with me.” He waved at the buckle gleaming on the table where he'd dropped it. “Even telling me that you are going to use this object as your focus is risky.”

  “So what are you saying? That your leader would send an elemental to steal my real name?” Simon asked dubiously.

  “No master. An elemental can only enter this plane if summoned. But one day in the future you may call upon more of my kind. What if that day comes and there is a dispute between you and a more powerful member of my species? My lord could, although I would like to believe otherwise, order that elemental to take your belt, leaving you without enough power to command it. That is my fear.”

  “Huh.” Simon said to himself. He picked up the buckle and turned it over in his hands, thinking through Kronk's words.

  “But you would never do something like that, would you?” he asked the little guy.

  “Never, master. I am sworn to your service of my own free will. Betrayal is impossible for me. Even if I was ordered by my lord to do it, I would not. Although disobedience would result in my destruction.”

  “Well, thanks. That's reassuring.” Simon sighed loudly. “But I'll worry about that stuff some other day. Right now, can you at least think of a way for me to mark the buckle myself?”