“Sorry, your honor,” Simon said sarcastically. “I didn't realize I was on the witness stand. But, how is that possible? That thing is humanoid! And why would they do this?”
“I have no idea how it's possible. They are gods, after all. As to why though, that should be obvious. According to the elves, these things are about a dozen feet tall. Unlike a dragon that's fifty feet long or more, they can move underground with no problem at all. They retain all of a dragon's powers and strengths in a more compact form.”
Simon was having a hard time accepting what he had seen. Dragons walking like people? It was an abomination.
But something else was bothering him.
“They're white dragons, aren't they? That damned primal white dragon is responsible for this.”
“Not exactly. Oh I'm sure it's involved, but there are more than this one type besieging the dwarves.”
He lifted another drawing for Simon to examine.
It was a second full-color illustration of a humanoid monster. Very similar to the first, this one's horns were twisted, rising in spirals over its head. It was blood red and glowing with heat. It held an enormous sword in its hands, the blade engulfed in flames.
“A red dragon?” Simon asked weakly.
“Yes. And, just to complete the trifecta, here's one more.”
Another drawing was held up and Simon recoiled from the image.
Like the first two, it was a winged creature walking on two legs. But the skin of this monster was an earthy brown color and seemed to be oozing with slime, trailing behind it like a huge slug. Its scales were slick with the mucus and yet it almost seemed to be rotting, like old meat wetly decomposing in a swamp. It was nauseating .
“Cripes. A brown dragon? I've never seen one of those before.”
Daniel put down the paper and nodded grimly.
“Lucky you. They are truly horrible, even for dragons. They attack with a blast of fluid that eats away anything it touches.”
“Acid?”
“For all intents and purposes, yes. So all of the remaining dragon types are represented in this siege.”
“How many are we talking about here? Dozens?”
“Hundreds, my friend,” Daniel told him with a weary sigh. “Hundreds. I will say that the dwarves are more than holding their own. The problem is that they have no reinforcements. Every warrior they lose weakens them, whereas the dragons are replenishing their losses constantly. It is a war of attrition and the dragons will win, eventually.”
Simon stood up and walked outside. The tower felt oppressive suddenly and he wanted to breathe the fresh air.
“So what can we do?” he asked as he wandered around the inside of the wall. The grass was very green here and the air rich with the smells of spring.
“Short of cutting off their supply of reinforcements, there isn't anything anyone can do. Shandon Ironhand and his people will put up a valiant fight, no doubt. But in the end, the dwarves will be vanquished and become a simple footnote in the history books. If anyone is around to write them one day.”
“Funny,” the wizard said. “The Daniel I remember wasn't a quitter. Has getting old so quickly changed you? Or is it some elven taint that has suddenly made you so weak?”
“What?”
The old man in the mirror sat up and glared at Simon.
“How dare you! I may be old in body, but I will never be weak.”
“Good. Glad to see that I can still get a reaction when I poke the bear,” Simon said with a sly grin.
Daniel hesitated and then chuckled ruefully.
“Fine, you got me. But I'm certainly not giving up, old friend. We need a plan, some way to at least give the dwarves a period of respite, so they can rebuild their walls and defenses. They were caught off-guard by the original attack and weren't fully prepared. But if they could regroup and lock up their city properly, I believe that the dragons could bash themselves against the dwarven walls for years to no effect. Their magical canon can knock those creatures out of the air quite easily, or so I'm told, so the monsters have been attacking the walls instead.”
“Hmm, so we just need to buy them some time,” Simon murmured thoughtfully.
He had made his way through the back gate and was standing on the shore of the lake. He sat down in the grass near the water and looked at the ripples running across its surface.
“Do you know how these dragonoids are getting down to the capital city in the first place?”
“Gates,” Daniel told him. “Don't look so surprised. You saw the primal green dragon use a Gate last year, remember?”
Simon nodded absently as he recalled the massive hole in the sky that had unleashed the green dragon. A horrific sight.
“The primals can all cast Gate spells. Obviously they are doing so to transport their forces to the battle.”
“I'm surprised they don't just teleport all of the beasts into the middle of the city. The war would be over in an hour.”
“They can't,” Daniel said a bit smugly. “Dwarves can block magic of that kind.”
The wizard recalled the time he had tried to contact Shandon using a Magic Mirror spell. The dwarf had blocked the spell until he knew who was calling.
“Well, that's something anyway.”
He lay back on a forearm, holding the mirror steady so that he could keep his friend in sight.
“So, as I see it, there are only two ways to slow or stop the dragon attacks.”
“And they are?” Daniel asked.
“Block the Gate spells long enough for the dwarves to regroup and rebuild, or cut off the supply of dragons at the source.”
“At the source? What source?”
Simon raised an eyebrow.
“You mean you don't know? Primal dragons replenish their ranks by hatching eggs. There are a finite number of them, although how many I don't know. If we could find those eggs and destroy them, there would be no new dragons to mutate into those horrors.”
“Well, well. You learn something new every day, I suppose. No, I didn't know.”
Daniel frowned and stared off at something that Simon couldn't see.
While he waited, the wizard turned and watched the three horses grazing at the far end of the lake. Sunshine was definitely getting bigger, but her coat shone like molten gold and she looked healthy.
“Do you have any idea where these eggs are being kept?”
Simon turned back to look in the mirror.
“None. But Aeris is up north, scouting. I've been hoping that he'll come across them, or the primal white dragon. I need to know where that creature is. Maybe I'll call him after this and ask him to concentrate on searching for the eggs.”
“That's an awfully big area to cover,” Daniel said doubtfully.
“Yeah, I know. He's been gone for weeks now. He's using that amulet I had you examine, but it's not been very much help. Maybe you could talk to the elders and ask if they have any idea where the eggs could be. Not just the white dragon's eggs, but the red and brown as well.”
“Oh, I will, I assure you. I'll also ask about a way to perhaps block the Gate spells beyond the walls of the dwarven capital. They may have some thoughts.”
“Sounds good.”
Simon stood up and brushed loose pieces of grass off of his robe.
“One last thing, dear friend.”
The wizard stopped in mid-motion. He peered at Daniel's face. The man's voice had changed and was now tight with worry.
“What is it?”
“I...was hesitant about sharing this last picture with you. I'm not sure whether seeing it will help or hurt your resolve. But I refuse to hold back any information from you, so...”
“What are you talking about? What information?”
His friend locked eyes with Simon for a long moment, then picked up a piece of parchment and held it in front of the mirror.
“The...dragonoids, as you called them, are not alone. They have allies joining in the siege of the dwarves.”
The wizard looked at the drawing and hissed between his teeth.
At first he thought it was a picture of some sort of bizarre statue made of glass. Vaguely humanoid in shape, the figure seemed to be made of jagged pieces of semi-translucent diamond. It was all sharp edges and hard corners.
There were four limbs and a head, but the face was featureless. It held a long shard of evil-looking yellow crystal in its hands and the artist had drawn it running with the weapon raised over its head.
“What the hell is that?”
“You don't recognize it? Hmm. Well then, would it help if I told you that it isn't made of minerals or rock, but of ice?”
Simon blinked rapidly, his mind groping for an answer.
Daniel dropped the picture and then turned his mirror so that he could watch his friend's expression.
Kronk's face came to mind suddenly. His pebbly little features, his limbs made of small pieces of rock and stone fused together.
And then the light dawned and Daniel nodded grimly.
“You know, don't you?” he asked.
“Kronk was right,” Simon said, shaking his head helplessly. “He tried to warn me and I didn't take him seriously. But he was right.”
His friend simply waited quietly.
“It's a water elemental, isn't it?”
“Yes, my friend. A water elemental. They have taken sides in the war between dragons and the world of men and dwarves, and they've chosen the dragons.”
“But why?” Simon asked plaintively. “Why would they do that?”
“A good question. There has to be some sort of incentive. Why don't you ask one of them directly, see what they tell you.”
“Oh, I intend to,” Simon told him grimly. “And she'd better have some damned good answers.”
Daniel closed his eyes, looking very tired.
“I'll speak with the elders and glean whatever I can from them. Meanwhile, you investigate on your end and call me back when you can. Remember, time moves faster there, so be patient. It may take longer to find some answers on my end.”
“Will do. Thanks for the information. I'd rather know the truth than be protected from it. And it's good to see you, as always.”
“I'm glad you called, old friend,” Daniel said warmly. “Sorry I was a bit short with you. I'm just worried about both the dwarves and what's left of humanity.”
“No sweat, Daniel. I am too.” He winked into the mirror. “But maybe the next time I call, you can say hello first and then chew me out, okay?”
“Deal,” the man replied with a laugh. “Take care of yourself.”
“You as well.”
And Simon canceled the spell and headed back to the tower. The smile faded from his lips as he thought about the new information that Daniel had passed on to him.
Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse.
Chapter 22
Kronk met up with the wizard as he was walking into the tower. He followed him to the kitchen table, jumped up and then stared at him, his little red eyes narrowed.
“What has happened, master?” he asked with obvious concern. “You look worried.”
“Am I that obvious?” Simon responded wearily.
“Perhaps only to me, master. What is the problem?”
“I talked to Daniel after speaking with Clara. I thought maybe the elves would know something about demons. After all, they are the oldest of the races.”
The little guy nodded in approval.
“An excellent idea, master. And what did you learn?”
Simon told the elemental what his friend had relayed to him about the dragons. As usual, Kronk listened attentively without interrupting.
“That is interesting, master,” the little guy said. “That would explain why my people have never dealt with demons. They are, after all, only stories.”
“Apparently. But these altered dragons are quite real. And I'm not really sure what can be done to stop them.”
“Have you tried contacting the dwarf, Shandon Ironhand, directly? At least you could tell him that he is fighting dragons, not demons.”
“I thought of that. I just assumed that he would be blocking all forms of magic, in case it was an attack of some sort.”
Kronk shrugged.
“In that case, master, what would it hurt to try?”
Simon picked up the mirror with an embarrassed laugh.
“Good point. Okay, let's see if anyone's home.”
He pictured Shandon's face in as much detail as he could. Then he cast the Magic Mirror spell again.
The handle of the mirror became cool in his palm and then cold. A few seconds later, Simon dropped it with a yelp and rubbed his hand against his chest.
“What's wrong, master?”
“The strangest thing. The mirror got too cold to hang on to. Weird. That's never happened before.”
“Ah, I see,” Kronk said, nodding wisely.
“You see? You see what?”
“Hostile magic, master. Something is blocking your attempt at communication, but it is not the dwarf.”
“Really? How do you know that?”
The little guy smiled a bit.
“Because, as I've told you before, master, I listen. The old wizards had no qualms about speaking in front of those like me. I learned a great deal from simply pretending to be as stupid and soulless as they thought I was.”
Simon pushed his hair off of his face with an irritated gesture.
“You know, I'm really beginning to despise those wizards from ancient times. Bunch of arrogant...”
“Why despise those long dead, master?” Kronk asked curiously. “They were what they were, and now they are no more.”
“You know, Kronk, you are the most easy-going, level-headed person I know. How do you do it?”
“It comes from living a long time, master. How long can one hold a grudge? Centuries? Millennia? I have learned to let all of that go.”
The wizard shook his head.
“Amazing. Anyway, I'll take your word for it. So I'm being blocked somehow. Huh.”
Something else occurred to him.
“Do you think that Shandon and his people would consider retreating to the surface? They could evacuate the city in those drilling machines of theirs.”
Before the earthen could answer, Simon cut him off.
“No, never mind. From what I remember, there's no way they would give up their home. Not to demons, dragons or anything else.”
“They are very proud, master. Dwarves have no fear, of anything. Even the elves feel fear on occasion. But dwarves? Never.”
“Yeah, I believe you.”
Simon rested his chin in his hands, elbows on the table.
“I've been thinking of some way to apologize to you,” he told Kronk quietly.
The little guy looked at him in confusion.
“Apologize, master? For what?”
“For not really taking your concerns about Ana seriously.”
He paused a moment and the little guy simply waited, patient as only an earth elemental can be.
“Daniel showed me a picture. The dragons have found allies in their war against the dwarves, and against us as well, I suppose.”
Before he could continue, Kronk nodded.
“It is the water elementals, isn't it, master?”
“Yes, them.” Simon said with a tired sigh. “You were so right about them. And I'm sorry that I didn't take your warnings to heart the way I should have.”
Kronk's simple smile made the wizard feel a little better.
“Don't give it another thought, master. Even I never suspected that they would throw their lot in with dragons. I wonder why they have?” he added softly.
“I intend to find out,” Simon said, feeling his belly tighten in anger. “Stand back, my friend.”
Kronk moved to the side of the table.
After taking a deep breath, the wizard stared at the center of the table a
nd spoke in a loud, clear voice.
“Ana, I need you.”
He waited. Kronk waited. Both watched the surface of the kitchen table, but nothing happened.
“Ana, I need you!” Simon repeated. “Return to me, now!”
Nothing.
“Wait a minute,” he said as he looked at Kronk. “Doesn't an elemental have to return to its summoner when called, no matter what?”
“Yes, of course, master. It is an unbreakable rule. No matter what, no elemental can ignore the call of the one who originally summoned it to Earth.”
“Maybe Ana never read the rule book,” Simon muttered.
He sat there feeling dejected. How was he supposed to get any answers if the one being who could explain things to him wouldn't return when called?
“Well, I guess we'll have to look elsewhere for...”
A shadow darkened the open door across the room and caught Simon's eye. He turned his head to look in that direction and watched, open-mouthed, as a small cloud, no more than a foot across, drifted into the room and floated over to hang above the table.
“What the heck is that?”
“It appears to be a cloud, master,” Kronk answered, being his usual literal self.
“Yes, I can see that. But what is it doing here?”
The cloud darkened suddenly and a sprinkle of rain began to fall on the table. Simon snatched up his mirror and several notes and pulled them out of harm's way and then both he and Kronk watched as a puddle formed beneath the cloud.
The little shower stopped and the small pool of water quivered and rippled as if in an unseen wind. It turned opaque and began to look more like a pool of mercury than ordinary water. And then it began to speak.
“I am here as a courtesy, Simon O'Toole,” a small voice gurgled from the water. It sounded uncomfortably like someone trying to speak while drowning and the wizard shuddered with barely-suppressed disgust.
“A courtesy? From whom? Who are you?”
“Merely a messenger, nothing more. The leader of the water realm, she who is supreme above all others, sent me because of your honest dealings with her people. You dealt fairly with the little one, Ana. And you kept your bargain with the great Aquamastis. In fairness, you should be told what has happened and why we will no longer answer your call.”
The Dragons of Ice and Snow Page 30
