by R. E. Fisher
Realizing that he would be unable to convince her to leave, the dragon took a position upwind to watch over her. He stood there until the sun rose, protecting her. From what, he did not know; he just knew that she needed him now more than ever. He vowed to himself that he would not let her harm any other innocents—or herself.
Chapter 26
“How or why you kill is truly inconsequential. Only that you have!”
(F. Me., 2.7 - Book of Fire, Tenets of Menrioch, Chapter 2, Verse 7)
By the time the two had reached the base of the mountains, Niloy’s feet were already cut and bleeding from the sharp stones littering the ground throughout the area. He had attempted to keep his eyes on the ground in the hope that he’d avoid them, but he was unable to. He had been forced to keep looking for a pass that might enable them to travel through—rather than over—the high mountains. He was beginning to worry that his feet just weren’t going to allow him to make it over those peaks. He stopped, sitting down on a rock; taking out his dagger, he began cutting up his blanket to wrap around his feet, creating a pair of makeshift cloth boots.
Dmitri noticed that his traveling companion had stopped, so he paused to see what he was up to. He watched as the shelfling sacrificed his blanket for boots rather than the warmth he was going to need, but it gave Dmitri a sudden idea.
He pulled off his pack. Opening it, he pulled out one of the wooden boxes that held their rations, then moved to kneel next to the shelfling. He removed the lid of the box and held it against the bottom of his foot. It was about the right size to act as the sole of a shoe. “What do you think?” Dmitri asked.
“It might work, but if we put it inside, the rocks will just chew up the blanket,” Niloy answered.
“What if we tie it underneath?” the Russian asked as he removed Niloy’s pack.
“We could use some of the extra sheet if we can punch holes through it,” Dmitri pointed out to the shelfling.
“The wood is thin, but it’s better than nothing,” Niloy replied as he untied the pack from his waist and slipped both of his arms out to allow Dmitri to remove it.
Dmitri began sliding the pack down from the shelfling’s back and over his arms. While moving the pack, he drew his dagger and thrust the blade into the shelfling’s neck, slicing through his carotid artery and his windpipe. Thoughts that weren’t his rushed into Dmitri’s mind. They were Niloy’s own dying thoughts, he realized.
In shock, Niloy grabbed at his throat, trying to stem the heavy flow of blood erupting from his neck. He tried to use both of his hands, but it was futile; the tighter he gripped his throat, the more his fingers slipped around the wound. There was no stopping the blood, he knew. He collapsed forward and rolled onto his back, looking up at the human as blood spewed from between his tightened lips. Fear, surprise, and anger filled the dying shelfling.
Dmitri paused, and a sudden thought that wasn’t his intervened in his satisfaction of his killing: I waited too long to kill him!
He knew that thought was what the shelfling was thinking at the moment he had thrust one of the knives he’d picked up from Machillis into Niloy’s throat! The blade had somehow told him what Niloy was thinking. He knew that just as sure as he knew that Eod was going to come after him. He looked at the bloody blade, examining it. The blade, though vicious-looking, was made of what appeared to be normal steel with a black bone handle. It looked no different than any other dagger he had used since arriving. He would have to find out more about them. He wondered as he wiped the blood from the blade using part of Niloy’s robe if the other blade did the same thing. He pulled it from its scabbard, and while Niloy struggled to hold onto his life, Dmitri eased the other blade into the shelfling’s chest toward his heart.
I hope you die in pain and demons shred your soul! were the words that entered his thoughts. They were as clear as if Niloy had spoken them aloud to him. It dawned on him that the blades allowed a killer to know his victim’s thoughts as they were dying. Perfect for an assassin looking to gain information, yet remain quiet. No wonder Machillis carried them.
Realizing that Niloy had in fact intended to kill him, Dmitri looked into his dying eyes and spat, “It’s people like me who kill people like you, you little bastard!”
As Dmitri watched Niloy dispassionately, he took a piece of dried meat from the open rations box and began munching on it while the shelfling died painfully. His dimming eyes were still filled with surprise, but hatred was visible as well. Dmitri realized that never before had he been so aware of how his victim felt as he lay dying. It was invigorating to him.
After the shelfling died, he leaned down and picked up the lid to the rations box, sliding it back onto the box and biting down on the dried meat that hung carelessly from his mouth. He then picked up the shelfling’s scattered belongings. He thought that the pieces of blanket might come in handy as well, so he cut off the parts of Niloy’s pack he had used for his shoulder straps and tied them onto his blanket. “At least I’ll have a pillow tonight,” he said aloud to himself. Walking over to his own pack, he stuffed Niloy’s into his. He started to walk away, then he walked back to the dead shelfling as if remembering something. Leaning down, he opened the rags that the shelfling wore and pulled the necklace with the key from around his neck. He further searched Niloy’s robes, looking for and finding the assassin’s dagger. Taking the dagger, he started to slip it into his own boot when he noticed that the shelfling had a small bag tied around his waist, inside his robes. Throwing the sheath from the small knife to the ground, he cut the piece of leather and lifted the small bag with the tip of the knife, hearing coins clinking against one another as he did so. He retrieved the sheath, shoved Niloy’s knife into it, and inserted it into his boot top. He opened the small pouch and saw that it contained several gold coins. Dmitri poured them into his hand as he grinned. He counted them and slipped them back into the small pouch, stuffing it inside the leather cuirass he wore.
He began making his way toward the peaks that rose in front of him, realizing that for the first time in his life, he was truly free.
Chapter 27
“To forgive thyself is the first step toward redemption.”
(A.Mu., 1.23 - Book of Air, Tenets of Muriel, Chapter 1, Verse 23)
Ollie walked away from the group when the dwarves’ festivities started, but it had made him feel a bit better when Tightbeard told him that he had “kind of liked that human” as he walked away. He found a quieter spot, still within the glow of the large fire, and sat on a stalactite base that had been broken off. While he was trying to figure out why neither of the pistols had worked, he pulled his out and pointed it into the darkness, pulling the trigger. The sound of the hammer falling and striking the firing pin was the only noise it made; the weapon didn’t fire this time either. There was no way that three rounds of ammunition in a row had misfired. He emptied the chamber of the round; using the small dagger he carried, he began prying it open, removing the jacketed slug from the round. He poured the gunpowder into his palm and walked to the fire that the dwarves were using to cook the dragon. As Ollie neared the flames, he tossed the gunpowder in. There was no reaction. The gunpowder was inert for some reason.
He returned to his secluded spot and halfheartedly began to eat some of the dragon meat, not even noticing how good it tasted even though it had been dead for several days.
Helor and Jehosaa walked over to him, bringing with them a water skin and offering it to him.
He opened it and took a drink, almost spitting it out. “That’s not water!” Ollie pointed out after managing to swallow what he had poured into his mouth.
“Nope; dwarven ale,” Jehosaa said. “They must be in a good mood to be sharing it,” he finished with a grin.
Ollie drank deeply from it, hoping it would dull the thoughts that had been running though his head for the last few days.
“I was thinking about something that I wanted to get your opinion on,” Helor said as he looked at Ollie.
&nb
sp; “What’s that?” he replied.
“What if—now, just hear us out on this—what if we all bought a place to live in the city together? We can afford it because of all of this. We were thinking we wouldn’t have to stay in that crappy tavern that the half-orc owns when we’re in the city, and since you’re not the wandering type, you could watch over it while we’re away. You could start a business in the city and run it from there. What do you think?” the half-elf asked him.
“Why would you want to do that? You barely know me,” Ollie replied.
“True. But you didn’t run when we faced that dragon. Everyone here is a seasoned fighter, accustomed to this world’s harsh ways. We expect that from those we travel with, but you’ve never seen anything other than a balnatharp from what we hear.” He paused for a moment. “But Dumas trusts you, and he’s the most trustworthy being we know. Besides, if we don’t, we’ll just piss it away,” Helor said, smiling. Even Jehosaa grinned and nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, trustworthy. I got my friend killed,” he replied in anger toward himself.
“How do you figure that?” Jehosaa asked.
“Let’s see. I left Dumas’s camp, leaving my best friend behind, then I rode back to the city by myself, picked a bit of a sketchy tavern to get something to eat, couldn’t deal with that little cutpurse when I caught him trying to steal from me, couldn’t deal with the half-orc, got myself knocked out, then arrested, then jailed, then got forced into this fool’s errand. If I hadn’t done that, they wouldn’t have come after me, and we wouldn’t have had to face something that neither of us were prepared for. He wouldn’t have gotten killed.” He paused for a moment, blaming himself yet again. “Yep, that about covers it,” he mumbled as he stared at the ground around his feet.
“It’s a harsh land, Ollie. There’s no getting around that. Even within the safe walls of the city, there are always plenty of dangers. It’s as if the world is cursed, my friend. Even the high elves rarely find peace, regardless of how they act like they have—and that is all that they seek,” Helor added.
“Still my fault, now, isn’t it?” Ollie asked.
“No; you’re not the one who ignored instruction on how to survive attacking that dragon—or let fear get in the way, like he did,” Jehosaa answered. He thought a moment further and added, “Each of us is born bloody, and most of us here will be leaving that way. Welcome to the Rorhlands, my friend.”
Ollie thought about that last comment of Jehosaa’s. While still looking at the ground, he noticed something about the barbarian. “You’ve got a small dragon on your leg,” Ollie pointed out to him.
Chapter 28
“To not advance thyself is to fall into darkness and strife. To accept your place as prescribed by kings and princes is folly.”
(W.Ma., 14.14 - Book of Waters, Tenets of Magael, Chapter 14, Verse 14)
Tetra and Telerex had remained at their own campsite just long enough for him to gather their supplies, then to shift back to his natural form. As the sun began to rise, she climbed aboard his shoulders and settled in for the long day ahead of them. They traveled in silence, just as they had spent the remainder of their night. Tetra did not know what to say to Telerex, and he did not know what to ask.
I told you, Lavalor whispered to her in his sarcastic, singsong manner after watching hours of their silence.
I have nothing to say to you. You started that, you monster!
I did what I thought necessary. I could not let them tie you up. He paused for a moment, then added, you would have perished. They thought you were a fairy or an elf. Either way, they would have killed you eventually.
You do not know that.
But I do. Men are cruel beasts. Have you already forgotten what they did to you for your noble effort to help Edella?
I have not, but…she began before he cut off her thoughts.
They intended to harvest you as if you were a beast of the fields. Your hair would have been sold for coin, with them pretending for the gullible that it would aid in some medicinal remedy. Perhaps your eyes would be sold to a mage. They would have sold your teeth, skin, and bones—or any number of things, really, he finished.
Or they would have let me go after they found out about my quest. I would have—
You cannot be this naïve, woman, else you will fail in your quest. For some men, you are to be ridden and broken; for others, you’re to be sold whole for another’s entertainment or as a servant; and for the others you are nothing but a curiosity. To be looked upon and marveled at for your uniqueness. Lavalor pressed, angry, I have done so with others myself. It is the way of the world.
I refuse to see the world as you do. There is good! You choose not to see it.
Oh, I see it. Think hard on this! You can meet a thousand good people, but it only takes one dishonorable one to cause pain and strife. Trust me, there is always more than one. And we always remember the ones who harm or frighten us.
You see what you wish to see! But I see you for who you are, Lavalor the Mad. You ran from the light long ago, and in that darkness that you created do you find your joys. But your joys have always come at someone else’s expense. Just like last night. They were at my expense; I could do nothing.
I kept them from harming you. I harmed but one. He may have even lived! But you…you killed him and five others. I didn’t attack the girl trying to escape; you did! I didn’t kill the helpless man who was trying to crawl away; you did! I didn’t kill the son; you—
You told me to start that fire! You wanted that, and you somehow got in my head and made me!
Awww, you poor woman; you don’t believe that. Who’s the liar now? he asked.
She did not answer him, but her silence told him everything, or so he thought. He softened his tone with her. Tetra, you’re superior to anyone—or anything—in this realm. This intelligent, powerful beast you ride is nothing more than that: a beast. A beast that was born to do your bidding, if you so choose. Your choice to make him your friend does not change that. A friend can only be an equal—one with the same abilities, yet who still chooses to be around you. The frail befriends the strong so as to not be their victim. The idiot serves the wise in the hope of being rewarded. The weak serve their lords to ensure that the lord and those that he commands do not sweep through their ranks. It is the way of things, my dear. You must see that if you are to defeat Jerrous, for he not only sees that, he knows it to be true.
She stayed silent, not expecting him to be so cavalier about her actions. You needn’t learn anything from this beast. If he is your friend, you need to realize that you will get him killed. You wouldn’t want that, would you? We are going to face the fiercest of our dark creations, but he does not even believe as you do. He will burn you and those who travel with you. What will happen to your friend if we do find Jerrous in Noli Deron?
How will we get there without him? she asked. It’s not that his words were convincing, because they weren’t; she was tired of having to argue and fight about everything. For him, she was always wrong, and it was beginning to exhaust her.
“Mistress, there are people up ahead of us breaking camp. I can fly around them, but it will delay us further,” Telerex said, unaware that she was already in a deep conversation.
“Head to Noli Deron unless they pose too great of a threat,” she commanded, turning her attention back inward.
Hearing that there might be a potential conflict, Lavalor perked up and looked as far ahead of them as he could, but he saw only the tops of the mountains ahead of them.
A dragon’s eyesight must be spectacular, Lavalor thought.
It is, and don’t get your hopes too high. I wish to avoid any more conflicts! Tetra replied.
It infuriated Lavalor that they no longer had to search out one another’s thoughts. It was as if they were becoming one. There was but a tiny space remaining where he could think freely, and that required a great effort on his part to achieve.
He was concentrating on trying to keep Tetr
a from those thoughts when he sensed something. Something he had not felt since his journeys within Asmordia. Jerrous had been somewhere nearby. He quieted his thoughts as much as he could, reaching out and searching for that demon while ignoring all else just to be sure. His sense of those from the realm he had created was second to none. Everything born there was his to command, and he had the ability to “taste” which Elfaheen had been involved in any creatures’ creation; he had made sure of that. It ensured his survival and dominance, and yes, Jerrous had been there, but when? He knew he was gone, but where had he gone and why?
“We must land!” Tetra told Telerex.
“Why?” Lavalor and the dragon asked in unison.
“We sensed that Jerrous was somewhere nearby, but now he is gone. We must find out what he was seeking in this remote place,” she said.
Damn! Lavalor thought, unable to protect his thoughts.
We? Telerex thought. What is going on with her? The dragon was concerned. He simply said, “As you wish, Mistress,” and began gliding toward the clearing where Ollie’s party had begun to ready themselves for their departure to clear their names.
After the group made their way from the dragon’s lair and out into the fresh mountain air of Forge Outpost, the dwarves collected their shares of the treasure and said that they were returning to Stout Steech to secure the wealth that now belonged to them. They had ensured that every dwarven coin from the dragon’s horde was now in their possession, but they had allowed the remaining members of the party to take the rest. They had only been after what they felt had been stolen from their people. That, and much of the dragon’s hide and scales.
Winston lifted the box that Dumas had asked them for, and struggled to carry it to Ollie’s mount to be taken back to Noli Deron. Ollie looked down at the shelfling and laid a blanket across his mount’s back behind the saddle. Taking the small wooden chest from Winston, he lifted it onto the blanket and began tying it down.
