Focus. Focus. Focus!
Nath had no wings. Nothing changed. Thoughts rushed through his head.
Will this fall even kill me?
Through the evening darkness he plunged, headlong toward the street.
I’ll know soon enough.
He covered his head with his arms. Something jerked him up by the ankles, snatching him a few feet from impact with the cobbled street. People screamed. Then up, up, up he and Selene went. Nath crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. Selene dropped him back on the balcony.
“You are an evil lady,” he said.
“Am I?”
“You might have killed me,” he said, gathering his legs under him and standing up again.
“Maybe, but I don’t want you dead. I want you alive. I want you to embrace the dragon within, and I must say, you seem reluctant to do that.”
“I’m not reluctant. I’ve always wanted to fly.” The feline fury cruised to his side. Nath dug his fingers into its mane. The fur was thick and soft. The cat that had tried to kill him before had become his only comfort. “I’ve always wanted to be a dragon.”
Selene’s wings collapsed behind her back and disappeared.
“I was taught these things when I was a little girl. I imagine things were easier then. More of a second nature. Your problem is still the same. You think more like a man than a dragon. You need to stop that, Nath.”
She was right. He’d spent most of his life fitting in with people, not dragons. He simply got along with people better. The dragons had shunned him for some reason. Up until now, anyway.
“I just don’t understand why your father withheld so much from you, Nath,” she said, coming closer. She kneeled in front of the feline fury and petted it. “He had plenty of time to show you. Why would he hold you back? Gorn Grattack pressed me from the moment he first saw me. I mastered the magic within when I was young.”
“Good for you,” he said. It ate at him that his father had never taught him these things. He didn’t understand why. He turned away. “I’ll see you later.”
“You are departing from me so soon? Oh Nath, don’t leave.”
He kept going.
“Nath, wait!”
He stopped and bent his ear over his shoulder.
“Next week, Nath. We’ll take leave. We’ll see the cities. The wide open spaces will do your scales good. I think there’s a good chance things will come alive for you out there.” She approached and patted his shoulders. “Just a little longer. Rest till then.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Don’t be so hasty. You don’t want to miss Sasha, do you?”
He turned to face her.
“You expect her back. When, exactly?”
“Any day now. Perhaps that will help you relax, seeing an old friend.”
“We’ll see,” he said, leaving. “We’ll see.”
***
When the heavy double doors slammed behind Nath, Selene caught her breath. Deceiving him wasn’t easy. He doubted her despite all she did. She scratched the fury’s head and said, “Keep close to him. He needs a friend.”
The feline fury slunk outside onto the terrace and leapt into the night.
Selene moseyed around the table, tracing her fingers along the tops of the chairs.
“Thank goodness for crafty spells.”
The food was tainted in magic. It left Nath hungry and unable to change into his dragon form. It also inhibited his magic powers. So far, he didn’t suspect a thing.
She couldn’t have him flying from one side of the world to the other and seeing what was going on. The outskirts of the world were under siege. The Truce was a lie. She couldn’t risk him finding out, at least not until she had a firm hold on Nath as well as Nalzambor. Then it would be too late.
He trusts me enough. I just need to finally win him over.
She didn’t want Nath to cross paths with Gorn Grattack, either. The Dark King would kill him. She needed him.
Oh Nath, we can rule this world together. I just have to get you to see things my way. Then we both can have whatever we want.
A knock came on her chamber door.
“Enter,” she said, resuming her throne.
A lone draykis came in, winged and wearing partial plate armor. His face was a twisted lizardish scowl. One of her captains. He held a scroll in his hand and kneeled after he approached.
“Awfully late for bad news,” she said. “What is it?”
“High Priestess,” he said in a deep and guttural voice, “we have found several of these signs, and we thought that you should be informed.”
“What sort of sign are you speaking of?”
He unrolled the parchment and held it out before her.
Her eyes became saucers. It was a painted circle with two slashes through it.
“Where have you found this?” she demanded. “How many places?”
“We’ve found dozens. My draykis, the soldiers, and the clerics are quick to take them down.”
“Who is putting them up?”
“That we do not know.”
“Find the culprits and kill them,” she said. She leaned forward and pointed at him, saying, “I had better not see any of these signs in the city.” She slammed her fist on the arm of her chair. “Notify every member from here to Borgash to the Pool of Dragons and beyond that I don’t want to see this symbol anywhere. And you had better bring me the culprits by sundown tomorrow. This is unacceptable!”
“As you wish,” he said, bowing.
An alarming cry arose from the streets below. Selene headed for the balcony and gazed down. The fire burned in a most peculiar way. A great circle with two slashes glowed brilliantly in the street, dazzling the onlooking crowd.
“Great Guzan!”
She grabbed the draykis commander and shoved him off the balcony.
“Get down there and put that out!”
She rubbed her head.
“Sultans of Sulfur! I hope Nath didn’t see that.” She slammed her fists on the rail. “I need the changeling!”
CHAPTER 11
Bayzog’s eyes were glued to the tome when a tiny creature crawled over the pages.
“What have we here?” he exclaimed.
It was the tiny citrine dragonette. Its tongue flickered out of its mouth as it sat on the edge of the pages. Bayzog’s heart leapt inside his chest. The tiny dragon dropped something out of its mouth. A gold ring clanked off the table and rattled to a stop.
“It can’t be…” Bayzog said, reaching down and picking up the golden ring between his fingers.
“Can’t be what?” Ben said, stepping alongside his shoulder. “Oh my. One of the dragonettes is back. Already? It’s been but a few days.”
“It’s Sasha’s ring,” Bayzog said. “Her ring of betrothal.”
Ben swallowed and said, “Do you think … well … you know …”
“I don’t know,” Bayzog said, eyeing the tiny dragon. It eyed him back, cocking its head. “Can you take me to her? Is she alive?” He dreaded his next words. “Is she dead?”
The dragon continued to tilt its head back and forth. Its tongue flickered from its mouth. Bayzog reached for the jaxite stones on the table and wrapped his fingers around their warmth. He could feel his control over the dragon, but he couldn’t understand its thoughts.
“Can you speak to it?”
“I can’t.”
“Is there a special way to communicate with it?” Ben asked. He started tapping on the table. “Maybe it understands code.” He rapped his knuckle on the table. Tap. “One for yes.” He rapped twice. Tap. Tap. “Two for no. That should suffice. What do you say, little fella?”
The dragon hissed at him. Lightning crackled inside its mouth.
Ben edged away and said, “Alright, I’ll let you handle this one.”
Bayzog nodded at him and said, “It’s a good idea, Ben. Let me try something along those lines.” He searched his mind for the proper incantation. He tried to thumb t
hrough the pages of his book, but the dragon’s tail was blocking it. “Do you mind?” The dragon remained still. Its tail dropped over the pages, back and forth. Of course, it was entirely possible the tiny dragon understood everything he said but was unwilling to reply. Nath had told him that much about dragons. Many were familiar with the common tongue, but it wasn’t always easy to prove it.
“Ben, will you go into my quarters and fetch the small box that rests by the mirror?”
“Sure,” Ben said, wandering away and quickly back again. “Is this it?” he said, setting down an ebony box trimmed in silver. “It’s the only box I saw.”
“Thanks, Ben,” Bayzog said, scooting the box in front of him. It was Sasha’s jewelry box. He opened it up and stared inside. It was half-filled with rings, bracelets, and necklaces. Elven made. Each a treasure of precious metals and sparkling stones.
“That’s a nice little dragon hoard you have,” Ben said with bright eyes. “What do you plan to do with it?”
Bayzog turned the jewelry box around to face the dragon.
It let out an excited hiss and dove right in, wallowing in the treasure.
“He’s a greedy little thing, isn’t he?”
“They all are to some degree,” Bayzog said, “and some more so than others.” He glanced at Ben. “They say there are trenches filled like this in Dragon Home.”
“It’s hard to imagine, and I can imagine plenty,” Ben said. “Nath told me about some of it once, but I wasn’t sure I believed it. What would you need that much treasure for, anyway?”
Bayzog smiled.
“Good question.” He clapped his hands. “But the real question is, ‘Where are Sasha and my sons now?’” He started thumbing through the pages. There had to be some way to get the dragon to communicate with him. The only thing he had done before was to give them his commands, or rather, to ask for their help. At least one of them had responded. Now he had to unravel the mystery that surrounded the fruit of his work.
“Look,” Ben said. “He’s wearing a ring around his neck.” He bobbed his head. “That would make for a fine portrait. Especially if you put me in it.”
“If you say so,” Bayzog said, immersing himself in his work. He blocked out every sound and utterance. His mind became the narrow edge of a razor. Time lost all meaning until Ben started tapping him on the shoulder.
“What!” Bayzog said, irritated, still focusing on the huge open book.
“I think you need to see this,” Ben said.
Bayzog huffed, rolled his violet eyes, and turned, saying, “What is so important that I—”
A dragon sat perched on each of Ben’s shoulders. One cherry in color and the other citrine. They cocked their heads back and forth at him.
“I told you that you needed to see this,” Ben said, careful not to move any other muscles. “They’ve been here over thirty minutes.”
“Thirty!”
“I didn’t want to bother you, and I don’t think they’re going anywhere, but their claws are digging holes in my shoulders,” Ben said, wincing. “Do you think you can lure them off?”
The dragons’ wings buzzed, but they didn’t lift off. Bayzog noticed the cherry dragon had a tiny parchment inside his mouth. It was rolled up like a scroll. He leaned forward and said, “That’s interesting.”
“Oh,” Ben said, “I noticed that too, but he won’t let loose of it. What do you think could be written on such a tiny letter?”
“Hmph,” Bayzog said, rubbing his finger under his nose. “It’s either a tiny letter, or it was shrunken by someone.”
“Shrunken?”
Bayzog’s eyes lit up. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a tiny scroll.
“Are you alright?” Ben said.
“Just … reminiscing.”
“About what?”
“A little something from years long past. A good thing.” He held his slender hand under the dragon’s snout. “Give it.”
The dragon held the scroll fast in his mouth.
Bayzog harnessed the power of the jaxite stone.
“Give me the scroll, please.”
The dragon’s mouth popped open, and the scroll dropped into Bayzog’s palm.
“Thank you,” he said, inspecting the tiny object. “Now, can I remember how this goes?”
“How what goes?”
Bayzog paid Ben no mind and began reciting quick intricate words. The scroll expanded in size. Sasha used to send Bayzog tiny messages when he courted her long ago. It was her way of showing off what she’d learned about sorcery. It did his heart good to see her using it again. The tiny red dragon growled at it. It flew from Ben’s shoulder onto Bayzog. Its ruby eyes were intent on the parchment. He unrolled it. The parchment had a circle with two slash marks cut through it and words in the middle that read:
We are all safe. You know where to meet up. Sasha.
His eyes misted over.
“What does it say?” Ben asked.
The tiny cherry-scaled dragon spit a ball of flame at the parchment. The scroll caught fire and disintegrated in a whoof of flame.
“That little scaled varmint!” Ben cried out.
“It’s alright,” Bayzog said, staying the man with his hand. “We have everything we need now.”
“So, what did it say?”
“It said it was time to go.”
“Go where?” Ben said, shooing the dragon. “And how do I get this dragon off my shoulder?”
Bayzog pointed at the crack in the wall, and all the dragonettes took off. He said to Ben, “Get your gear. We have one quick stop before we depart from here.”
***
The Grand Gardens of Quintuklen. Ben followed Bayzog back toward their bench. With determination and a dangerous look in his eye, the part-elf wizard almost glided through the streets. Ben had seen it a few times before. He’d seen those violet eyes put a shimmer in a man’s bones.
Ben hitch-stepped to keep up, and his gear jangled. He had his heavy pack strapped over his shoulders. Two swords hung from his hips, one his own and the other Fang. Akron was snapped behind his gear along with a quiver filled with arrows. He had Brenwar’s chest tucked under his arm.
I think Bayzog could carry a little more than his staff. By the sultans, this is heavy!
Bayzog carried the Elderwood Staff and nothing else. As soon as he passed beneath the iron archway of the Grand Gardens, leery eyes slipped his way. Ben could feel a presence now. Something he’d never felt before. He thought about the dragonettes. Wouldn’t mind having them with me now.
Traipsing through splendid walkways lined with bountiful plants and flowers, he followed Bayzog back to their usual bench. Again, the odd men and women in strange garb of many colors shunned them. That was fine with Ben. He didn’t want anything to do with their weird and haunting faces. There was just something so strange and uncouth about the manners of all of them.
“Stay close,” Bayzog said, scanning the garden. “No farther than arm’s length. And keep your sword inside its sheath, no matter what.”
Ben pulled his head back, looked down on Bayzog, and said, “What do you have in mind, Wizard?”
“When she comes, I’ll do all the talking and all the doing. Just stay close to me.”
The muscles in Ben’s jaw clenched. He plucked a piece of spiced rawhide from his pouch and started chewing. He didn’t have any idea what Bayzog was doing, but the part-elf could be odd like that. He’d gotten used to it. But if it were up to him, he’d have left Quintuklen already and headed after his wife and family. He must be setting them up for something.
An hour passed, then two. Ben’s back and knees began to groan. He couldn’t stand for days on end the same as he used to. He was almost fifty now.
Bayzog remained a statue. Hard-eyed and focused.
Certainly by now, their enemies knew they were ready to go somewhere. Ben stretched his back and twisted his waist. Kept switching the chest from arm to arm. This is worse than my Legionnaire days.
> “Bayzog,” he said, “I don’t know what you’re planning, but let’s just go.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Bayzog said. His eyes drifted up the left path. “Ah, company is coming. Just a moment longer, Ben. And remember, stay close.”
The same woman as before came down the path, but she was not alone this time. Two large men, both bigger than Ben, flanked her backside. Tall and heavy shouldered, they were the biggest acolytes of Barnabus he’d ever seen. Each had a sword belted to his robe. Ben’s hand drifted to the pommel of his own sword. Bayzog eyed him. He pulled it away.
“It’s your show, then,” Ben whispered to him.
“Are you going on a journey?” the woman said. Her dark ghostly features were intent on the Elderwood Staff. “You know that you are not to leave the city.”
“I thought it was time you took me to my wife,” Bayzog said. “I need some good faith this time.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but that is not how this works. I’ve been very clear about that.”
Ben wondered if the Clerics of Barnabus had any idea that Sasha and her sons had escaped. It seemed they did not.
“Do you have a family?” Bayzog said to her.
“Barnabus is my family,” she said.
“Have you a husband? Or children, perhaps?”
“Let me say, Bayzog,” she began, cocking her head, “I believe I can relate to your circumstances. But these circumstances will change for the worse if you become persistent about leaving.” Her eyes kept drifting back and forth between Bayzog’s eyes and his staff. She backed between her men. “And this public garden is no place to start anything. That would be foolish.”
Ben felt the muscles between his shoulders begin to knot. The air thickened with tension.
“I agree,” Bayzog said, easing his stance. “That would be foolish.”
Ben’s breathing eased.
“But,” Bayzog continued, “it wouldn’t be nearly as foolish as taking the wife and sons of a very powerful wizard.” His eyes sparked with bright fire. His staff flared with brilliant life.
Swords ripped out of men’s belts. The woman recoiled back, and mystic red claws sprang from her hands. Her voice became a shriek.
“Don’t be a fool, Bayzog!”
The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10) Page 108
