Dragon's Blood

by Jason J. Nugent

  “Myrthyd,” she whispered. She sat next to a tree and focused on the Kull Naga.

  It wasn’t until he ascended to the position that dragon hate grew to a frenzy. He re-instituted halfling executions. It made her shudder when she thought of them. She used to cheer like the rest of the crowd as dragon-kind was burned at the stake. She was raised to abhor the offspring of dragon and human. Looking back now, she was naive to think dragons were the cause of their problems. They had nothing to do with it. If it weren’t for dragons, those wicked Magus wouldn’t have their powers to begin with! Why would they want to slaughter them? If they died off, so would Magus powers. It didn’t make sense.

  Her father, the great dragon slayer that he was, never questioned his role in the process. Like her, he was raised to look at dragons and their offspring as spectacles of the hunt. They were animals; nothing more.

  Spending so much time with Ryn, she understood now that was a lie. She was living proof of the lie. Who had set that thought in motion? Why were the people of Tregaron blinded to the reality, when across the Dragonback Mountains the people knew the truth? It felt as if they were purposely lied to, but why? Who gained the most from it?

  Brida sent an impression of…mirth? Is that what it is? Alushia thought. She dropped her line of thought and honed in on Brida’s message.

  It certainly felt like the snowcat was laughing, which she didn’t recall her ever doing. Alushia followed the image until she stood next to Brida and saw what had amused the snowcat.

  Ryn was tangled up in vines, and he struggled against them. A brown boar paced outside his reach, snorting and carrying on.

  “Get scared by a little boar?” Alushia joked.

  “Ha, ha. You think you could help me out here?”

  “Why not change into a dragon and break free? That’s what I’d do.”

  “As tempting as that is, I’m trying not to disturb nature as much as possible. I’d snap these trees holding me.”

  Alushia laughed. “What a weird concept to get bogged down by. Fine. I’ll help you. Brida, come.”

  The snowcat followed her lead, the impression of mirth fading, and being replaced with a fine-tuned sense of the hunt. Brida crept to her right, an attempt to circle the boar. “That’s it, girl, we’ll catch him between us.”

  Brida slowly worked her way around the boar, which was fixated on Ryn’s struggles in the vines. “Closer, girl, we’ve got him now.”

  Alushia inched her way toward Ryn, hoping to free him when the boar was occupied by Brida. “Ready?” Brida growled low and menacingly and Alushia pulled her knife free.

  “Now!” she shouted. Brida leapt at the boar, knocking it over. The two animals rolled on the ground in a deadly struggle. The snowcat growled and hissed while the boar kicked its legs at its fur-clad attacker. Brida was much larger than the boar and absorbed the blows with ease. Still, the boar fought back. It went into a frenzy as Brida clamped down on its neck. The boar squealed as it fought to regain control.

  Something snapped behind Alushia. She spun. “Oh no!”

  Two gray-souls had heard the commotion and forced their way through the brush. Their gray bodies took scrapes from the trees. A deep bloodless gash ran down the face of the female gray-soul and the man was missing an ear. Both had the same cloudy gray eyes and ashen skin. Their clothes were rags hanging from their gaunt frames.

  Brida continued to battle the boar behind her, the sound of squeals and growls telling her the boar had yet to give up the fight.

  “Alushia, run! Don’t let them get you!” Ryn cried out.

  “I’ve got this!”

  Alushia stepped closer to one of the gray-souls, the female, and kept a tree between them so she could plan her attack. The woman shambled across the leaf covered ground, random sticks and branches scraping her, slowing her down. It was as though she had no sense of direction or cared that she tore her skin on the trees around her.

  Figuring she had the right angle, Alushia broke from the safety of the tree toward the woman. As she ran, she didn’t see the small limb on the ground and caught her foot on it, sending her falling to the ground. She landed at the feet of the woman, her knife flying away from her. Trying to catch her breath, Alushia struggled to push herself away but it was too late. The woman sensed her flesh and dropped on top of her.

  “No! Alushia!” Ryn screamed.

  Alushia struggled to free herself from underneath the aggressive woman who was trying to bite her. A flash of light from Ryn’s direction was followed by the sound of snapping trees.

  The woman above her was soon joined by the other gray-soul, and both were on their knees snapping at her. She felt nails run across her shirt as they clawed her back. They wailed and moaned, teeth chomping. Just as the woman snapped near her neck, she heard Ryn roar. Flames shot across the trees, catching the woman’s back on fire. The woman ignored the flames and still tried to bite into Alushia’s flesh. More trees snapped, and thick, heavy footsteps crossed toward her. She turned her head and saw Ryn in his dragon glory approaching.

  Ryn lifted the woman off Alushia, tossing her aside like a doll. He swiped at the man, knocking him away. Alushia jumped to her feet and ran to her knife. She grabbed it and turned toward the woman, who was on her feet again. Ryn must have broken her leg; it was bent at an odd angle and when she took a step, she fell. Not allowing the injury to stop her, the gray-soul woman pulled herself along with her arms.

  The head. Try stabbing her head, she heard in her mind. She turned to Ryn.

  “Are you sure?”

  The large Garnet dragon nodded.

  Alushia rushed to the crawling woman and stayed just out of reach. The woman clawing at her, snarling and growling. Alushia moved to her side and approached, staying out of her arms way. She fell on the woman and shoved her knife into the back of her skull. The blade slid easily into the weakened skull and penetrated whatever brain was left inside. The woman fell silently to the ground.

  Alushia heard Brida growl off to the side. The snowcat had blood on its white fur and the boar was dead.

  Ryn roared, blowing a gust of flames at the gray-soul man. Alushia watched as the man turned black, charred by Ryn’s flames. Still, he continued to claw after the dragon, trying to rip into his flesh. Ryn approached the man and lifted his massive foot, crushing him underneath. The charred man was no more.

  Ryn turned back to Alushia. We have to be careful. They’re everywhere now.

  The dragon was enveloped in a white light and when it disappeared, Ryn stood in his human form. He ran to Alushia. “Are you all right? Did she bite you anywhere?”

  “I don’t think so. Maybe.”

  Ryn spun her around, moving her hair off her neck and inspecting her. Alushia felt her face grow warm.

  “You’re clear. She didn’t get you.”

  When she turned back to him, his eyes locked with hers. “Thank you,” she said. Taking a risk, she planted a kiss on his cheek and it was his turn to flush with red.

  Brida broke the moment by nudging her leg. Alushia turned and took a step back, startled.

  “Good girl, Brida!”

  The boar lay lifeless on the ground at the snowcat’s feet.

  “I guess we get food after all,” Ryn said. He scooped up the boar and they went back to their camp. Ryn collected wood and created a flame to roast the boar. Several hours later, they had all the meat they could devour.

  Eighteen

  Jor strolled through the city of Lostcrest, hoping her head would clear up before long. She drank way too much the night before. It had been a long time since any of them had tasted ale and they were reckless, especially with that oaf Anders. She took notice of the many shops and homes lining the streets and also of the ever present red-cloaked guards.

  She wanted to find out more about them and who led them. They intrigued her, and maybe the investigation would take her mind off the pounding inside her head.

  “Hey Jor, wait up!” It was Belthos, the boy grinning as
he hurried across the hard-packed dirt road.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “I watched you leave the inn and thought you might need company. Besides, I might be able to help with that.” Belthos pointed at her head. His gem peaked out of his shirt and she noticed it glow. The familiar warmth of Magus magic flowed from her head downward and as it did, the intense pain dissipated and lifted like fog. When he was done, she felt immensely better.

  “Thank you,” she managed to say. Her instantly clear head was a welcome relief.

  “Come on, then, but make sure you keep that thing hidden!”

  Belthos shoved the gem in his shirt and buttoned the last button.

  “What are you up to?”

  “You see those guards?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who are they? Who leads them? Why are they out here? What’s their purpose?”

  Belthos turned from her to the guards walking in pairs down the street.

  “I’m not sure. I was hoping someone else knew. Something about them gives me pause.”

  “Oh. Why’s that?”

  “It’s hard to pin down. I get a sensation of…dread, I guess is the best word to describe it. I don’t know why, but ever since we saw one yesterday, that’s the impression I’m left with.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t older than you are?”

  Belthos grinned, eliminating the need for an answer.

  Jor turned and strolled along the dirty street, carefully watching the ever present guards. The market adjacent to the tall building in the center of the town was awakened with vendors calling out to gain the attention of anyone walking by. Jor led Belthos toward the bustling activity, hoping to gain any bit of knowledge. They were only going to stay for the day, but they were in foreign lands and the more information she gathered, the better.

  Vendors peddled the usual wares: root vegetables, fresh butter, baskets, and more. It was a hive of activity. Mothers with their children in tow whisked them past vendors slyly trying to coax the children with sweet treats to get their mothers to part with their gold. Jor laughed when one father lunged across the stall at a man who had given his daughter dried fruit. Two guards rushed in and broke up the fight.

  Jor paused and watched the ruckus. “Who’s in charge around here?” she asked Belthos.

  The boy shrugged. “Beats me. Seems like I’d not want to anger those guards.”

  After breaking up the fight, the two female guards were joined by two others dressed in the same red tunics and carted the man and his crying daughter away.

  “Come, let’s see where they’re taking him.” Jor casually walked after the guards, Belthos at her side.

  They didn’t go far as the guards forced the man to the main building in the center of town. At the side, they pounded on the heavy wooden door. Another female guard opened it from the inside and they took the man with them, leaving the girl crying outside. The guards shooed the little girl away, but she remained and grew hysterical.

  “Maybe we can help,” Jor said, nudging Belthos. She hurried to the girl.

  “Come now, little one; we can help,” Jor said. The girl looked up at her with a dirty, tear-streaked face. She had to be around ten years old.

  “Who…who are you?” she asked.

  “People who can help.”

  “Get out of here!” one of the guards said. She was an older woman with graying hair, though she looked strong enough to give a good fight. The other guard, a younger woman with light brown hair, had a scar running along her cheek.

  “We’re only here to help. Why’d you take this girl’s father? What crime did he commit?”

  The older guard peered at her with icy gray eyes. “It’s not your business. Leave this matter in the Council’s hands. They’ll know how to deal with him.”

  Jor cocked her head to the side. “Why does the Council need to be bothered with him at all?” She had no idea who the Council was, but she played along, hoping to glean information from the guard.

  “Are you dense?” The guard eyed her, then Belthos. “You two aren’t from here, are you? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Where’d you come from?”

  “A village from the south,” Belthos said quickly. Jor wanted to cuff the boy like Driano used to. How dare he get them in trouble!

  “Which one?” the older guard asked, stepping closer to Belthos. The little girl continued to cry, wailing for her father’s freedom.

  “Darmont.”

  The guard paused, exchanging glances with the younger guard. “Darmont? Haven’t had many come up from there. It’s quite the journey. Why come here?”

  Jor could tell Belthos had no answer for her, then quickly spoke. “For worship.” It was a terrible answer but standing outside this large building that she knew must hold a shrine of some sort, it was the best she could come up with.

  “Deavos preserve us,” the younger guard said.

  “Then be on with it. We don’t need the peace disturbed. He’ll be out soon enough,” the older guard said, thumbing toward the door. “The Council don’t have much to deliberate on today.”

  Jor nodded to Belthos and she wrapped an arm around the little girl. “Come, let’s wait for your father together. Would that be all right?” The girl looked to Belthos and Jor.

  “You aren’t gonna hurt me, are you?”

  Jor gave her a comforting smile. “No dear, we aren’t. We’re the good guys. We can wait over here so we can see the moment the door opens and your father is released.”

  “Best be careful. No disturbing the peace, got it?” the older guard said before marching off with her partner.

  After they were gone, Jor turned to the little girl. “Where’s your mother? Can we take you to her?”

  The girl looked down. “No,” she said softly. “Mother’s gone. She returned to the Dragon Lands last summer. She left me with father.”

  A halfling? The girl was a halfling? A growing sense of disgust boiled within Jor. She had little sympathy for those creatures.

  “The Dragon Lands, huh? Is she coming back?”

  “Maybe. I mean, I think so. They normally do.”

  Belthos leaned down to get a good look at her. “What’s your name, little one?”

  Whatever differences he had with Driano and the Order, Belthos still exuded the confidence and maturity they were trying to instill in him. Maybe the harsh treatment Driano exacted on him wasn’t as bad as she thought. It certainly seemed to train him right.

  “My name’s Helni. My father is Ulkand. We live outside town.”

  “Does your father take good care of you?”

  Helni nodded.

  Jor rubbed her head, tussling her hair. “We can wait right here for your father. He should be out soon, right?”

  Helni shrugged. “I guess so. The Dragon Guards don’t like when people fight.”

  Jor pulled back, “The…Dragon Guards?” she asked.

  Helni nodded. “Yeah. You know them, right? Everyone does.”

  Belthos spoke up. “Of course we do. Jor’s just not thinking straight. She’s had a long night.”

  “Oh, ok then.”

  Jor scowled at Belthos but said nothing.

  They waited and watched. Guards were constantly on the move. The people genuinely seemed content and there was an air of calmness that permeated the little city.

  “You’re different, aren’t you?” Helni asked Belthos.

  “What do you mean? I’m the same as anyone else.” He ran a hand across the gem under his shirt.

  “You’re like me, aren’t you?”

  Jor looked to Belthos and then Helni. “A halfling?”

  Helni nodded. “Yep. I can sense that about you.”

  Belthos shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you must be mistaken. I don’t have dragon blood in me.”

  Helni tilted her head to the side. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I think I’d know.”

  “Hmm. Maybe I’m wrong. I can sense thin
gs like that. It’s a gift, Father always said I was special and I could tell who was like me and who wasn’t. I haven’t been wrong yet.”

  Jor didn’t know what to say. How could a halfling “sense” others like themselves? She’d never heard of such a thing.

  Someone called to them. “What are you doing here?”

  Jor turned, the voice familiar to her.

  “I asked you a question, wench.” It was Anders, the fool from the night before.

  Jor felt her face turn red as the adrenaline flowed. “We’re here helping Helni and her father.”

  Anders was alone and looked like he’d had as rough a night as she had. “Is that so?”

  Helni nodded. “Father was taken by the Dragon Guards. These nice people said they’d wait with me.”

  Anders face split into a wide grin. “These foreigners want to help? Why? You ain’t nothing but a little girl.”

  “She needed help,” Belthos chimed in. “Her father was taken because he stood up for her.”

  Anders looked to Helni, then Jor. “Don’t go sticking your nose where it don’t belong. You might not like what you get.”

  Jor restrained herself, the urge to bash his face in growing stronger.

  “Yeah, we’ll make note of that.”

  Anders laughed. “Watch your back, little girl. These two can’t be trusted.” He left, shaking his head, and mumbling about foreigners.

  Moments later, Helni’s father Ulkand burst from the heavy wooden door.

  “Helni? Helni, where are you?” he cried out, scanning the streets for her. When he found her with Jor and Belthos, he ran to her.

  “You leave her alone! She’s not done anything wrong!”

  Jor held up a hand. “Sorry, it’s nothing like that. We saw what the guards did to you and I thought we could help. Helni seemed pretty scared.”