The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10)

by Craig Halloran

  “Look at this, Dragon! Ho! You are in for a treat!” Brenwar pointed.

  The parade was still going strong. The regiment of dwarves had marched on, but I could still hear their heavy boots pounding the ground like a steady heartbeat. I followed Brenwar’s arm that pointed upward. A group of dwarven men was sitting in the sky.

  “How are they doing that?”

  They each sat in a tiny seat at the top of a pole that was ten stories tall, four of them in all. Beneath them, big dwarves with broad chests held them up on shafts of iron, eyes straight forward as they marched along. Every eye was filled with wild wonder as the dwarves stood high atop their perches and bowed.

  “Are they crazy! What are they going to do?”

  “Just watch, Dragon!”

  A wild dragon couldn’t tear my eyes away as one dwarf saluted, teetered backward, and fell.

  CHAPTER 2

  The crowd gasped as one dwarf fell, followed by another and another until the fourth one fell. My heart jumped in my chest as they plummeted to the ground amid the frightened screams. Certainly, there was a net, a magic spell, or something to save them from breaking their necks? As much as I wanted to be, even I wasn’t fast enough or close enough to catch any of them.

  “Brenwar, they’re going to—”

  The first dwarf was caught by two others.

  The second was caught by two more, and so on, and so on. Cheers erupted as the falling dwarves bowed and raced back up the poles to the delight of the crowd.

  Brenwar elbowed me in the gut, saying, “Had you fooled, didn’t they? Wouldn’t you say?”

  I didn’t know what to say, actually. It didn’t seem possible for a dwarf to be caught from a ten-story fall, and it seemed even less likely for one to shinny like a spider monkey up an iron beanpole. Maybe I should take a dwarven acrobat with me on my next adventure. Such agility would move things quicker.

  “That was incredible, Brenwar! I’d like to meet—”

  “Hah!” He waggled his finger at me. “I know what you’re thinking about them dwarves. They might be acrobatic, but they can’t fight worth a hoot. Humph.”

  “Is that so?” I said, surprised. “I thought all dwarves could fight.”

  “They can,” Brenwar grabbed a loaf of bread stuffed with pepperoni and took a bite, “better than men, orcs, and elves that is. But they’re not dwarven soldiers. Dwarven acrobats is all, the best acrobats in all of Nalzambor!”

  “Certainly.”

  The next few hours, I allowed myself to unwind and take in more of the city of Morgdon and all its rugged exteriors. They could hammer iron so thin that you could see right through it. An entire building was windowed with it. "No rock or arrow could shatter that iron glass," Brenwar boasted. There were so many objects and artifices of iron that it was just incredible, but as the sun began to set and the fervor of the festival renewed its rise, I realized it was time to go.

  “Brenwar, I think I’m going to head back to your place and take a break,” I said, walking away.

  “What? But the festival has just begun!” he said, not looking at me but chewing his pepperoni loaf and watching the acrobats instead. “Just stay and watch a few hours more.”

  I could see he was enjoying himself, but frankly, I’d had my fill. And the white spot inside my dragon palm looked a tad smaller. I had to save more dragons; I just had to.

  “I’ll see you later, Brenwar,” I said, waving.

  “Wait a moment, Dragon!” he said, stopping me in my tracks. “Remember, you cannot leave Morgdon without me, and every dwarf in the city knows that. So you go rest and stay put. I’ve a few ceremonies to attend to.”

  I nodded.

  He eyed me.

  “What?” I said. I could see he wanted confirmation from me, a promise that I would not leave, but I wasn’t going to give him that. Never make a promise you can't keep. Just let them think it’s a promise.

  “Give me your word, Dragon.”

  I shook my head, saying, “Why bother? I can't leave anyway. A thousand eyes are on me. My, Brenwar, I’m as much a prisoner as a guest.”

  “Prisoner?” he stroked his beard. “That’s not polite, and you know it!” He combed his fingers through his beard and muttered under his breath. “Better be no pixies in there.” Then he looked at me. “As for you, a prisoner? Pah! I’m looking out for you. That’s all. Don’t be hasty, Dragon.”

  “Every day we stay, the graver the danger gets for the dragons.”

  “You can’t save them all, try as you might.”

  I glared at him.

  “What if it were dwarves we were going to rescue? Would you wait then?”

  “Ho! A dwarf needing rescued!" Brenwar laughed. "I've never seen such a thing. Nobody poaches dwarves. Not if they know what’s good for them.”

  “Well, nobody poaches orcs, either!” I said, storming away.

  “What!” Brenwar yelled at me. “You take that back, Dragon!”

  I kept going.

  He kept yelling.

  “And don’t you dare try to leave without me!”

  ***

  Brenwar’s home was small and quiet. His children were grown, and his wife was working at the festival. Such a fine cook she was, one of the finest I’d ever known. Still, it was good to be alone with my thoughts. If I wanted to pout, I’d pout alone. I pulled up a stool on the balcony overlooking the vast and colorful city. It seemed like every torch and pyre was alive with yellow, green, red, orange, and even pink fires. The air smelled of roasted everything good, too, and I hungered.

  “I can’t wait any longer,” I mumbled. I wanted to pass over the great wall that held Morgdon, dash over the plains below, and save the dragons. Holding my dragon hand before me, I studied it with intent. Was I getting close? Could I remove the evil curse on my own? But part of me wondered what would happen without my dragon arm. Making two fists, I punched one into the other. I could feel that extra power within me. Something great. It was part of me―the strongest part―and I didn’t want to do without it.

  Rubbing the white scales of my hand, I said to myself, “I wonder if the white are as strong as the black?” Standing up, I leaned over the balcony and looked as far out as I could see. There were dragons out there who needed me. And I needed them as well. But how could I get out of Morgdon without anyone finding out?

  As the bats darted in and out of the night sky snatching the fireflies in their mouths, I snapped my fingers.

  “That’s a great idea, Dragon! A great one!”

  I dashed inside Brenwar’s place, found my pack and his, and tossed them both onto my bed along with my longsword Fang and my bow Akron. I wouldn’t be going anywhere without them. I counted the arrows in my quiver. I had hunting arrows, warviin-tipped arrows, and magic arrows for extraneous circumstances, plus one that I wasn’t certain at all what it would do, but supposedly it would do what I told it to do. “Can’t wait to use you,” I said, taking it out and stroking its bright-red feathers before sticking it back in. “Now what?”

  I dug into Brenwar’s pack. He’d kill me if he knew I was doing that, especially because he liked to keep things tidy, and I was not tidy, not by a dwarf's standards, not even close. I found a jeweled case trimmed in gold with a dragon-faced hasp. It was just what I was looking for. Opening it, I found two dozen vials filled with colorful liquids. Potions. And not just any potions, magic potions. I plucked three of them out. One of them was light blue, a healer. If I was leaving without Brenwar, I’d need to be more careful. The second, dark blue, a concealer. The third I shook in front of my face. The yellow colors swirled with white. “I hope this is it,” I said as I closed the lid and put the jeweled case back in his pack as neatly as I could.

  “I’d take the whole thing with me if I could,” I said to myself.

  It was heavy, though, like a hundred stones. I could barely carry it, but Brenwar had little trouble at all with his pack. It was my father’s design, no doubt about that, filled with all kinds of magic
from my father’s trove. I was blessed, that much was certain, that my father allowed Brenwar to take the pack and be its guardian.

  I slipped into my chest-plate armor, strapped my sword on my waist then snapped my bow in place. Slinging my pack over my shoulder, I was ready to go now. I pulled the cork out of the yellow vial, stepped out onto the balcony, and started to drink.

  “Oh wait,” I said.

  I left Brenwar a note.

  Dear Brenwar,

  The dragons can’t wait, and I can’t either.

  Forgive me,

  Nath Dragon

  He would be furious, but I couldn’t wait a moment longer. I yearned for freedom, not just mine, but for the dragons. They needed me. I put the vial to my lips and took the first sip. It tasted like berries and honey.

  “Mmmmm,” I said, smacking my lips.

  A moment later, I pitched forward and fell to my knees as my mind turned to mud.

  CHAPTER 3

  Everything turned black. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. I couldn’t see a thing, but my ears were just fine. I could hear everything in the street below but much louder this time.

  What do I do?! What have I done?! That potion has me undone!

  My plan was simple: take the potion of polymorph and turn myself into something else. I stretched out and fluttered on the floor. This shouldn’t have been so hard; I'd done it before. But I'd never turned myself into a bat.

  “Eek!” I screamed, but it came out a high-pitched shriek.

  Bats are blind, you idiot!

  What was I thinking? Oh, now I remember. I was going to blend in with the bats and fly away. None of the keen-eyed dwarves would pay attention to such a thing.

  Think! Take a breath, Dragon. You can figure this out.

  I flapped my wings. Nothing. I rose on my tiny, clawed feet and flapped once more. I lifted from the ground. Yes! I banged into a wall and plummeted back to the floor. Ow!

  At least, I thought it was a wall; I couldn’t see it. Head aching, I made my next attempt.

  Up, Dragon!

  Whop!

  I hit something else and dove nose first into the floor. Think, Dragon. Think!

  Morphing into a new body took some getting used to, and it didn’t help that I was blind to boot, and―fair enough―I was stupid, too. I should have just turned into a bird. I rubbed my nose with the tiny fingers at the end of my wing and sniffed the air. Not only could I hear everything, I could smell everything as well. Pretty amazing. What I lacked in sight, I made up with everything else.

  What else could bats do that I didn’t know about? I had to think on that. Then I remembered they had a sonic power that helped them out.

  “Eek!”

  That wasn’t it. I tried something else. A whisper of sorts. Soon after I let it out, an echo came back. Ah! I get it now!

  I lifted my head up and sounded out toward the smells and sounds below. In my mind, I saw the shape of the balcony now. Gathering myself, I fluttered to the ledge. Made it! Then I took a deep breath. Well, as big a breath as I could, that is. I certainly felt like I was in a very small body. I sent out a signal. The bats and bugs were still there, but the rest of my path from Morgdon was all clear. Here we go… Bat Dragon!

  I slipped from the ledge, spread my wings, and whoosh—I was flying! Everything in my body was tingling, making me all the more eager to become a dragon one day. Then a thought struck me: Not all dragons can fly. What if I was one of those? No, I must perish such thoughts; it shouldn't matter either way. Right now, I needed to enjoy that I was free!

  I let out a signal. Moths and fireflies fluttered in the air, and a strange hunger came over me. I signaled again, and like a beacon, I knew where the firefly was. I zoomed in and snatched it in my mouth. That was fast! I liked that. Yech! It left an odd taste in my mouth, but I crunched it up anyway.

  Time to move on, Dragon! The sooner you go the better. No telling when the potion's magic would wear off, and I didn’t want to be in the air when that happened, either. I let out a new signal. The mountain was behind, but the open plains of Nalzambor were below. That's where I went, where the goat herders go.

  Flap! Flap! Flap!

  Something soared past me. What was that? I ducked and dove before I got a good look around. The other bats were attacking me. One after the other they came, nipping and clawing at me. What were they attacking me for? All I ate was one lousy firefly. It wasn’t like there weren't plenty of them left out there, you know. But in full assault they came. I was in trouble now.

  I shrieked. It didn’t help. I dodged.

  They struck.

  I dove.

  They bit. They were going to drive me from the sky.

  I wanted to say something, but I don’t think bats talked; they shrieked. What would happen if they got me on the ground? I was certain they’d tear me to shreds.

  Ouch!

  One of them got a piece of my leathery wing, sending me spiraling downward. I wanted to swing my sword, but it was part of me now, as were all those other things. I regained my balance and dove into an alley of the city. Perhaps I could shake them from my trail; I understood things about the city that they did not. Maybe that would help. I flapped hard and fast, weaving into alleys and underneath bridges, drawing some cries from the crowds. I don’t think the dwarves had ever seen bats chasing bats before. This might not be such a good idea, after all.

  Clack. Clack. Clack.

  Too late. Stones were clattering off the walls. The children were throwing stones now. Accurate ones, too. I flew under one and over another, one stone clipping the wing of a pursuer. It bought me time. Up I went. Down I came to find the bats in front of me. I was chasing them now. I sent out a signal. The one in the back, bigger than the rest, was driving the colony of bats. I knew what I had to do. I had to stop him, else they’d wear me down. I let out an awful screech. A challenge was my intent. Up, up, up! The big bat came after me.

  Bat or man, I knew how to fight, and I’d fight anything anywhere. I wasn’t sure how bat fights went, but I think the leader got the message. I circled him and he circled me, then in rush he came right at me.

  Whop!

  We clocked heads. Blind, I saw stars, and I realized his head was much bigger and harder than mine. I swear; with one gulp, he could eat me. What kind of bat did I turn myself into, anyway? The more I flapped, the more my wings began to tire. Flying all the time could be very exhausting.

  I sucked it up, flying straight upward as he barreled straight downward. At the last second, I dodged, and the others were upon me, clipping and biting at me. It seemed either I fought one of them head on or I fought them all at once. The leader and I darted up and down in a wide circle. This was it: him and me, head to head for all the glory of the nighttime bug eating. I let out my final signal. He let out his. He charged. I charged and let out my “Dragon! Dragon!” screech. There was no need to close my eyes, but I think I did.

  CHAPTER 4

  I felt something burning in my stomach and projecting from my mouth. The big bat screeched in the sky. I let out a sonic signal. The big bat was engulfed in flames and plummeting toward the ground. I could smell it burning―its hair, its wings―as I dove after it. Where did that flame come from? Did it come from me?

  My mouth was hot, and I could taste the bitterness of sulfur on my tongue. Below me, the burning bat crashed into a rooftop. Yes! What kind of bat am I, anyway? I’d never seen a fire-breathing bat before. I swooped up into the sky where the other bats waited and let out a screech of triumph. I felt another streak of flames shoot from my mouth into the sky. I sent out another sonic signal, and all the bats were gone. I’d won.

  I could hear shouts and cries from below and had visions of stubby fingers pointing into the sky. I flapped my way past the walls of Morgdon, over and beyond where the green grass grows, and flew through the night, exhausted, until I could fly no more.

  ***

  I awoke to find myself in a very cramped cave with the new day's ligh
t creeping in.

  “Sunken Sulfur! Where am I? Where are my arms and legs?”

  I could see again, but I couldn’t move a thing. It was as if I’d been nailed inside a coffin. I struggled and strained, wiggling my shoulder loose then my arm and leg.

  “Ah… I’m whole again,” I said, crawling out of the cramped cave. “Whoa!” I tumbled down a rocky hillside and went crashing into the hard ground below. “Stupid!” What was I thinking, turning into a bat? I almost got myself killed. And being blind wasn’t any fun at all. Next time I changed, it would be into something else, but I had to admit: all the flying was incredible.

  I dusted myself off, and to my relief, everything was intact: my sword, my bow, and even my pack. You have to like magic like that, which transforms not only you but everything you carry as well. “Thank goodness.”

  Above me, the sun was rising, and Morgdon was nowhere in sight. The last thing I remembered was flying as far and fast as I could, putting the Festival of Iron far behind. Guilt crept into me, however, about leaving Brenwar behind. I knew he’d be mad, but I also knew that he didn’t understand. He was a dwarf; I was part dragon, part man. He’d just have to understand.

  I coughed. The inside of my stomach churned like a pot of boiling lava, and the taste of sulfur was still inside my mouth.

  Smacking my lips, I said, “That tastes horrible.” I stuck a finger in my mouth, feeling around, certain I’d find a piece of charred wood inside there. What had happened, anyway? Could bats breathe fire? Impossible.