Ragged Heroes: An Epic Fantasy Collection

by Andy Peloquin

  Ten minutes of blessedly undisturbed riding brought her to the base of the climb to the peak and the healing academy at its summit. Marion reined in her mare to a walk, searching for the pink house described to her by the mayor. They rounded a curve and then she spied it. It was set in the middle of set of row houses, three stories tall. Wooden shutters of green were pulled closed over the windows. She rode up to the door, which was marked with a large red X.

  Marion slid from the saddle and tugged her gloves tight on her hands, then took her healer’s bag and the staff and put her hand to the latch of the door. It opened with a soft click and she entered the house. It was silent and empty. The lower floor of the interior had been ransacked, the furniture flipped over and cushions slashed. Broken crockery littered the floor and the curtains that once hung in the window hung limply from a broken wooden valance.

  She held her staff high, searching for signs of magic. She sniffed the air for the rarefied trail an elemental left behind, especially a beast tied to air. The lower level yielded no clues so Marion worked her way to a narrow staircase set against the back wall that led to the second level. Marion crept up the staircase. The treads squeaked under her booted feet. The sound was so loud in the silent house, it made her wince.

  She stuck her head into the two bedrooms that were located on the second level. One was a master bedroom and empty, as was the nursery attached to it. She climbed the last flight of steps to two identical bedrooms, but these were obviously for children. Straw dolls decorated a ledge that ran around the perimeter of the room, pausing only for a large window set in a dormer. The bedroom was undisturbed, but a couple of bare spots on the ledge suggested a missing doll or two.

  I wonder…is this girl is up at the Citadel? Marion thought, stepping more fully into the room. Marion sniffed, closing her eyes to sort through the odours. Yes…there it is, a trace signature of rarefied air. An elemental has been here. She opened her eyes and took one last look around then stepped across the landing to the other room. She gripped the handle and opened the door.

  The blast of elemental magic that roared from the room hit her with the force of a charging rhino. Marion was blasted off her feet and flew back to land on the child’s bed, breaking her fall. She tumbled to the floor, her bag and staff tumbling away from her grip. Thankful for the soft landing, she rolled over onto the floor, just as a jet of flame roared over her head, catching the curtain on fire. Marion grabbed her bag and her staff and crawled along the wall back to the doorway. The flames roared up the curtain, and a choking black smoke filled the room, seeping out the eaves to join the rest of the smoke lingering in the early morning sky.

  No one will even notice this fire, thought Marion. Suddenly, it occurred to her why so many fires were burning in Melina. The creature was setting them, but whether on purpose or by accident, she did not know.

  Marion crawled to the door opening and peered around the frame. Nothing stirred in the room across the hall. She crawled out onto the landing and then up to the open doorway. Careful to keep low to the floor, she peered around the door frame. Perched on the headboard of the bed was…a baby dragon. Marion’s mouth opened in surprise. A dragon was the last thing she had anticipated finding. Dragons did not exist in Gaia.

  The dragon flapped, stretching up on its back feet, then nuzzled its chest with its nose. A long tongue flicked out to lick the shimmering scales on the underside of its wings. On the bed sat the shattered remains of what looked like crockery. Marion remembered the crockery that had littered the first floor. With dawning wonder, she realized that it hadn’t been dishes broken in a raid, but the shell of an emerging dragon. It would also explain the state of destruction on the first floor as the dragon had tried to escape the room.

  How many dragons are here? Marion wondered, studying the remains of the eggshell. Two at least or possibly more. But how did they get here? The baby dragon flapped once again, testing its wings, then hopped down from the headboard and clambered up on top of a dresser. It shoved its nose into an upended wooden box and began to nose around, sniffing at the spilled contents. A golden chain tumbled from the dresser to the floor. The dragon ignored it, scratching around at the interior of the box. Three fat pearls rolled across the top of the dresser, glinting in the rays of sunlight that pierced the cracks of the wooden shutters. The dragon spied the rolling pearls, and its tongue flickered out to snatch them. It crunched down with a tooth splintering snap and then swallowing, rummaged through the rest of the jewellery box contents. A ring tumbled out with a fat emerald solitaire. With a squeal, the dragon grabbed the gold with a claw and pried the emerald out of the ring. A contented purr sounded in its throat.

  Dragons eat gemstones? Marion watched the feeding dragon, amazed at the revelation. She reached into her neckline and pulled out the necklace of jade beads, gifted to her by her order. A crazy idea was forming in her mind. Can I coax the dragon to trust me with food? Marion took a deep breath then broke the necklace, spilling the beads into her hand. She rolled several across the floor to the base of the dresser.

  The baby dragon’s head snapped up and crooked to the side as an eye locked on the tempting treat. It lurched off the dresser and fell to the floor, licking up the beads. Marion continued to roll them a shorter and shorter distance, leading the baby to her. The dragon eyed her, and the treats and a contented gurgling issued from its throat. It stopped right in front of her and met her eye with an opal eye of clear intelligence. She could feel its mind pressing against hers.

  “Are you telepathic, my friend? I am sorry I do not know how to open my mind to yours.”

  The baby dragon’s head tilted at her words, then gurgled some more before crawling into her lap and curling into a ball, nose tucked under its tail. With a satisfied sigh, its eyes closed and fell asleep, snoring gently.

  Chapter 8

  Opaleye

  Ramos laid the dead rats out on his study table, then crossed his arms and sighed. Self doubt teased his brain.

  Have I misjudged the adept-imminent? If the mysterious boy didn’t enter his room, where did he go? He sighed again, then flung a sheet over the table. First things first. Where is the dragon hiding? That is where I need to start. It’s bloody hard to hide a massive dragon. He must be up in the towers where I first saw the boy. I need to find my proof and the dragon is pretty hard to miss.

  Ramos changed his clothes and shoved his solitary pair of shoes on his feet then grabbing his cloak and a book, left his quarters for the long arduous climb to the peak of the east tower. He did not hurry. All he had done lately was hurry, and now he longed for a relaxing stroll. It did not take long for his shortened leg to twinge painfully. His shoe rubbed on the outside of his foot, but he ignored the discomfort. He pulled his hood up, wishing to not be immediately recognizable and whenever someone entered the hallway, he smoothed his gait which involved a lot of bending of the knees to bring his legs to the same length. He buried his nose in the book, and studiously ignored all he passed.

  He retraced his path of a day ago, calling himself all kinds of a fool for not checking on the dragon first. What if it wasn’t there when he got to the rookery? He was convinced that was where it was hiding, it only made sense, being the largest chamber in the tower. No one ever went there.

  Thirty minutes of hallways and stairs and passages later, he stepped out onto the hallway leading to the rookery. The only sound to disturb the silence was a raven, cawing as it passed by the arched stone window. He reached the crossing hallway where he had first spied the boy. Checking both directions, he took the right hallway toward the rookery, creeping slowly along the hallway and staying tight to the wall. The chamber opened up before him, vast as a cathedral to the old gods. The crow that had flown past the window earlier, flew into rookery, cawing. Its mate answered, ruffling feathers from a nest in one of the smaller alcoves.

  Ramos searched the interior with his eyes, ignoring the crow. All the dragon-sized chambers appeared to be empty, but he knew that some we
re very deep, especially the ones that stretched back into the mountain itself. He walked across the chamber, careful to not trip on the detritus scattered across the floor. Working his way around the perimeter, it wasn’t until the fifth cave that he found what he was looking for. The dirt on the floor of the cave was scuffed with clawed prints and swishing through the middle the serpentine swirl that could only be a tail.

  Ramos crept into the opening, walking to the back and as the light faded, he conjured a ball of light. He held it aloft, illuminating the dark. The cave was one of the deepest caves, complete with stalactites and stalagmites formed by a steady drip of water through the porous ceiling. He moved further back into the cave. The largest stalagmites were broken, the breaks fresh. The dragon had pushed into the very back of the cave, and the conjured flame sparkled off crystals embedded in the walls. He held the ball close to the crystals. A long gash ripped through the stone wall, exposing a vein of colour that reminded Ramos of jewels.

  Puzzled, he pushed further back into the cave, and that was when he saw it. The rear of the cave was piled high with jewels of every sort. It was not the polished things that kings and queens liked to wear, but the raw, unrefined rock that glimmered dully in the flickering light. Splinters and shards covered the floor in a fine dust that danced with rainbows. Ramos knelt and drew his finger through the dust, holding it up before his eyes.

  A rumbling snort blew down the cave, a hot wind that made his clock flutter. He tensed then slowly turned around. A massive dragon blocked the entrance of the cave. Grey-scaled, the beast moved with a swiftness that belied its size. Before Ramos could do more than yell, the dragon was looming over him. Ramos flung his arms over his head, waiting for the blast of flame that would curl the skin from his bones, but nothing happened.

  Slowly he separated his arms, peering up at the lone Opaleye that peered down at him. The great snout swung around and sniffed him, sucking his robes into his nostrils. Ramos was sure that they came away layered in nostril slime, but he couldn’t drag his eyes away from the beast. When the dragon did not attack him, some of his fear drained away and he lowered his arms. Ramos felt the dragon’s mind press against his and grabbed his head, trying to ease the pressure. “Are you trying to speak to me? I am not telepathic. Can you speak?”

  The dragon lowered himself to the floor of the cave and considered his words. A small irritated curl of smoke huffed from its nostrils. He extended a claw and began to draw in the bejeweled dust on the floor. An image of an island and wavy lines Ramos took for waves and then a larger island that he knew to be the shape of Gaia took shape on the floor.

  “Is that a bird?” The dragon growled, and Ramos corrected “No, wait, is that you?” The dragon puffed assent. “You are from here?” He pointed to the smaller world. “Jintessa? Across the impassable seas?” The dragon blinked agreement. “You can cross the magical barrier? That’s fantastic!” enthused Ramos, all fear forgotten. “You have great magic!” The dragon nodded puffing out his chest, and then he started a new drawing. This one showed several round objects in what looked to be a nest. “Are those eggs?” The dragon nodded once again, then drew an X across three of them. “Those ones are missing? Are they yours?” The dragon nodded and then dragged his claw from the image of the nest over to Gaia. Ramos frowned. “Someone stole your eggs and brought them here? Why?” The dragon huffed, then lifted its claw and shoved it in Ramos’s chest. “To give to me? Or to wizards? Who would do such a thing?” The dragon rumbled an angry sound deep in his chest. His nostrils glowed with heat, turning a fiery red. “My name is Ramos,” he said, jabbing himself in the chest. “Do you have a name?”

  The dragon raised a claw to his eye. “Eye? Your name is Eye?” The dragon snorted then clawed through the pile of rocks and flipped out a chunk of grey slag that tumbled over in a rainbow of colour, rolling to a stop at Ramos’s feet. He bent over and picked up the rock. “Opal. Opal…eye? Is your name Opaleye?” The dragon flashed long teeth in his direction. “So where is your rider? I saw him just after you arrived.” The dragon growled and shook his head. It was not a friendly sound. “I think I know where he is. The question is, what is he up to?”

  Opaleye rumbled then stomped over to the opening of the cave. A whining keen issued from his lips. Ramos walked up beside the dragon. “You are calling your young ones.” The dragon whined again. “How about I help you find them? I don’t know where to look, but I can try.” The dragon eyed him then nudged him out into the room. “I will find your eggs.”

  Ramos walked out of the rookery, the dragon’s hot gaze on his retreating back. The mystery deepened with every step he took. Was it possible to uncover the truth behind all the mysterious events before it was too late for everyone?

  Chapter 9

  Broken Promises

  Madrid strode down the hallway, disguised as the late adept-imminent. The poor fellow had not seemed suspicious in the least of the offered cup of ale laced with a sedative, nor offered any resistance when Madrid had placed the pillow against his face, smothering him. Disposing of the body had been trickier, but the abundance of lye used in the refuse pit had taken care of that particular problem. Sneaking his corpse out under cover of darkness had been a challenge, but the serving carts used by the staff had proved to be the perfect vehicle to transport the body through the castle, once it had been stuffed into a meat box.

  A slow smile stretched his lips. He was pleased with the finely tuned web of deception he had spun around the governing wizard’s council over the course of the last few weeks. They trusted their prize pupil, despite the gimpy-legged adept’s attempts to warn them. It had been ridiculously easy to divert their attention from the lad’s truthful accounts, to the reports of chaos and burning Bastion, Samos, and Shadra. The timing of the arrival of the provincial representatives was beyond perfect. He would have loved to claim credit for it, but they had simply appeared on the keep’s doorstep to demand that the governing wizard’s council declare a state of emergency. It took only a little discussion to convince them to nominate Wizard Tanis as the emperor-elect. With a few more, well-placed whispers in the crowd, Madrid convinced the provincial councillors streaming to the wizard’s keep to “demand a magical solution” as protection against “the aggression of their foul-minded neighbours.” Wizard Tanis, bowing to the demands of the populace, agreed to put the keep on high alert and discuss their demands with the council. First on the people’s agenda was that the rampaging magic of the elementals be brought under control. The crowds swelled in the lower town, and the lone stone bridge that connected the town to the keep seethed with angry throngs, intent on forcing their demands on the wizards.

  But the elderly wizards were ill, gravely so. Only Wizard Tanis was unaffected by the sickness sweeping the keep. Madrid smiled. It was by his design, of course. It had taken some careful discussion and not a few late-night sessions spent in the wizard’s chambers, but Wizard Tanis had come to trust Madrid’s counsel. Through reasoned deliberation, he had agreed that the current crisis could not be resolved by discussion, nor could the wizards simply ignore the problems beyond the walls of the keep. Long ago, the wizards had pledged to not interfere in the affairs of the non-magical population. But with the surge of the elements, magic was no longer in full control of the wizards. Elemental magic, out of control, would be catastrophic for Gaia.

  The strange cough spreading through the magical population of the castle, adept students and full wizard alike, was an illness unknown to the common village healers. Illnesses borne of magic or thought to be based in magic were treated by the witches of Castle Ionia, but they had been called away to deal with the tragedy unfolding in Bastion and none were able to be located when the current spread of illness within the walls of the keep took an extreme turn. The adepts were the first to succumb to the illness, falling into a catatonic state.

  The disease was highly contagious among those with magic, and, as no cure could be found, the adepts had been quarantined to their quarters and
the wizard’s council to the actual council chambers where the illness had first manifested in an attempt to isolate the most contagious of them all from the rest of the castle. The disease bloomed at an exponential rate among the elderly wizards, eating away at their connection to elemental power. The illness at first was thought to be a common cold, but, as the days progressed, each of the wizards succumbed to painful boils that burst the skin. The relief was short lived as additional boils replaced the original, the boils multiplying with every rupture. A ragged cough that tore the lungs was soon followed by high fever and disorientation.

  Madrid stroked his lip, pleased with his efforts. The only person who was completely immune to the disease was the adept-imminent. Madrid had spun a story of exposure as a child in his home province and a miraculous cure and promised the council that he would care for them and the provinces until they could recover or until the healers could return and treat them all.

  Yes, my plan is working splendidly! thought Madrid, as he walked to the council chambers with the elixir he had concocted as a cure for all ills. He was down to the last of the white powder, but there should be enough of the elemental concoction in their system now, to be able to bend their will to his to command. That was the advantage of being in control. He was masterminding a huge chess game and only he could see the moves to come.

  Madrid paused outside of Wizard Tanis’s chambers and knocked on the door. It opened immediately, and he entered the room, closing the door behind him.

  ***