by Isaac Hooke
“Not what a true emperor would do, is it?” Malem asked.
“No,” the former king said. “Nor would a real emperor march out himself, alongside his kings and queens, to perform some minor quest such as this. He would sit secure in his palace—even if it was only partially built—waiting for his minions to complete the mission for him.”
“There you go,” Malem said. “Told you I’m not an emperor.”
“We’ll get you trained yet!” Goldenthall said.
“We’ll also conquer more territory,” Ziatrice said, coming to his side. “And then you’ll become emperor not just of the Midweald, but the entire realm. Every city of man to the east of the Midweald will fall to you.”
He chuckled. “We’ll see.”
“Let’s fuck,” the blue-skinned woman said, dragging him to her tent, which she had already pitched.
“No,” he told her, ripping free. “I’ve already promised Mauritania.”
“Then take us both,” she said. “You did it before, when you were the Defiler.”
“I’ll have to ask Mauritania if she’s okay with it,” Malem said.
“Oh, she’ll be okay!” Ziatrice said. “Trust me.”
Malem raised an eyebrow at her. Was that an undercurrent of sexual attraction he sensed? He had seen Gwen and Ziatrice kiss before, when he took them both to his bed as Defiler, but while he had slept with Mauritania and other women at the same time, the half Eldritch always seemed interested solely in him. But maybe he was wrong?
The pair arrived at Mauritania’s tent. “Ziatrice would like to join us.”
Mauritania gazed at her, and shrugged. “She’s hot. Bring her in.”
Ziatrice smiled wickedly with those pointed teeth, and shoved him inside.
Sometimes Malem couldn’t believe what a great life he led.
Malem and his party set out again at first light. No attacks had come in the night.
The sky became overcast as the party moved further north, and the landscape below became bleaker, darker. Not only the mountains were black, but so were the shoulders, and the surrounding lands, which were permanently covered in a black sand wasteland.
You know, when I hear the name Khroma mountains, it makes me think of colorful landscapes and scenes, Gwen said. Not this blackness.
Before the Balors came, these mountains were indeed colorful, Solan said. Scintillating with all the hues of the rainbow beneath the midday sun. They were covered in the green of life, with waterfalls and lakes aplenty, but when the Balors were done here, nothing would grow. And you see that black plain below? That was where the twenty Balors were defeated. The terrain never recovered from the ravages incurred by so many magics coming together.
Nemertes continued north along that jagged, black range, until finally coming to a halt, circling above a mountain that seemed no different than its neighbors. The range ended five peaks to the north, ceding to dark foothills that continued to the horizon.
Skeletons of indeterminate age littered the shoulder of the mountain just below. Most of them were large, as if belonging to hill giants, ettins, or other big creatures such as dragons.
We’re here, Nemertes said.
Malem reached out, but sensed nothing below. If there is a dragon nesting here, it’s not showing up on my beast sense.
But we already agreed your abilities don’t detect all monsters, Abigail said.
Maybe the mountain is interfering with your senses? Weyanna asked. There’re countless layers of rock between you and whatever lies inside.
Could be, Malem agreed.
Nemertes and the others landed. The big blue stepped on the skull of a hill giant, and it shattered beneath the dragon’s weight.
Whoops, Nemertes said. We were trying to be quiet, right?
Malem and Wendolin dismounted, as did the other riders, and the dragons took human form. The half dragons fetched the clothes and armor they’d stowed in the big saddles, and as they dressed, Malem picked his way through the bones until he reached the opening at the base of the mountain. Timlir joined him, as did Goldenthall, Ziatrice, and Xaxia.
“A dark, nasty thing,” Timlir said. “Like staring into the ass sphincter of a ghrip.”
“Something you’ve done often, from the sounds of it,” Ziatrice said.
“When you’re a mountain dwarf growing up near a nest of ghrips, you do that a lot,” Timlir said. “Half the time you spend staring at their sphincters, the other half at their gaping maws as they try to eat you.”
The ground shook, and the thudding of massive feet filled the air, along with the crackling of breaking bones: Nemertes approached.
“I can’t fit,” the big dragon announced.
Malem glanced at the towering dragon. The opening, while it would have fit an ordinary Metal in dragon form, was a little too small for the blue.
“At least not comfortably,” Nemertes continued. “I can squeeze inside, perhaps, but I’ll be useless to you in there, all cramped up like that. Not worth the risk of getting stuck. Why do you think I’ve stayed alive for so long? I don’t make stupid decisions like crawling into caves that are too tight for me.”
“On the bright side,” Xaxia said. “It does mean the dragon we seek is smaller than you. So that means you’ll probably win in a fight.”
“Assuming we can draw out this Furlantos…” Malem said. “Otherwise, we’ll be fighting alone.”
“Six against one,” Sylfi said, approaching in her tight tunic and leggings. “I’m not worried.”
“You assume Furlantos is alone,” Solan said. He had dressed in one of the two sets of dragonscale armor he’d brought along.
“That would be a good assumption, based on what Nemertes has told us,” Malem said.
Gannet approached, wearing dragonscale like Solan. “Except she could be wrong.” The half dragon glanced at the blue.
Nemertes shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“If it’s like most dragon dens,” Abigail said, approaching in her red dress. “The cave will open out into a larger chamber inside, allowing the rest of us room to transform and fight freely.”
Malem nodded. “Even if Furlantos isn’t alone, the odds will still be in our favor, assuming we catch the denizens by surprise.”
Abigail nodded. “Either way, it doesn’t mean we can let our guards down and get cocky.”
“No,” Malem agreed.
He reached out, searching for animals or monsters he could use as scouts. He sensed a few birds nesting on a crag nearby. Likely eagles or hawks. They didn’t have the best night vision. He continued searching. There. A mountain lion. A creature with reasonably good night vision.
He Broke the lion, and barely took a stamina hit. He instructed the animal to head down the mountain. It took twenty minutes for the creature to pick its way down. He had to send soothing vibes when the beast saw Nemertes and the others, but otherwise he had no problems controlling it. When it arrived, he sent it into the cave.
“There weren’t any bigger monsters around?” Mauritania asked.
“No,” Malem said. “It’ll serve our purposes. Lions such as these are quite stealthy.”
He switched to the animal’s point of view, and watched the lion pad its way into the cave. As the light levels dimmed, its night vision kicked in. In a few minutes the tunnel opened into a wider chamber. It was lit by small, glowing spheres scattered at intervals across the piles of gold coins and artifacts spread across the floor.
“It’s just as you predicted,” Malem told Abigail.
“There’s an inner chamber, larger than the tunnel?” she asked.
He nodded. “And it’s full of treasure. Which tells me the dragon is still here, somewhere.”
“Yes,” Abigail said. “Hoards are rarely looted while the dragon is home.”
The mountain lion picked its way past the skeletons of armor-clad men near the entrance.
“Looks like more than a few knights tried to conquer this dragon,” Malem sai
d.
The lion stepped onto the periphery of the treasure pile. Without warning, its head slammed into the gold beneath it. Malem sensed great pain, and then the lion was hoisted into the air. A talon protruded from its chest.
The lion swiveled in place, turning around so that it faced a big, snarling green muzzle. Those jaws opened wider, and then darted forward.
Malem’s mental connection to the lion severed.
He slumped slightly, thanks to the boomerang effect. His vision reverted to outside the cave once more, where he stood with his companions.
Should have drained the lion to the core… giving it a merciful death.
Then again, the lion had died quickly.
“The dragon is in there,” Malem announced.
“Just the one?” Abigail asked.
“I think so,” he said.
“Are you sure it’s the dragon we seek?” Solan asked.
Malem shook his head. “No. But it was green.”
“Did it look old?” Gannet asked.
“Couldn’t tell,” Malem replied.
Nemertes leaned forward and peered into the cave. “It’s not coming out.”
Malem listened for a moment. “No. I don’t think so.”
“I don’t suppose you saw the Light Pearl anywhere?” Xaxia asked.
“No,” Malem replied. “There were smaller, glowing spheres of light scattered throughout the hoard, but nothing opalescent, nor the size of a human head.”
“Glow Spheres,” Wendolin said. “We use them to light Dothloron.”
“That’s where I’ve seen them before… ” Malem said.
“No doubt looted from our city during one of the dragon’s raids, before we moved Dothloron to a pocket realm,” Wendolin said.
“So Furlantos raided the Trees Elves, too?” Ziatrice said.
“Oh yes,” Wendolin said. “He and his band of green dragons were well known around these parts, back in the day. If you think human bandits are something to fear, wait until you meet dragon bandits.”
“I could take him,” Xaxia sniffed.
Malem reached out, and found another mountain lion to Break. He suspected this lion was the mate of the other. He ordered it down the mountain, giving it instructions to stand guard at the entrance with Nemertes.
He didn’t wait for it to arrive this time. But he did warn it that a dragon awaited, and he made sure to calm the animal well in advance.
He drew Balethorn. He felt nothing from the blade, though he stood at the entrance to a dragon cave.
A good sign.
Other swords were drawn. Axes unhooked. Bows equipped.
He Broke one of the hawks he’d sensed nesting on the mountainside earlier, and commanded it to his side. The bird was reluctant to approach a big green dragon, but a few stern and calming words fixed that.
“Flaming globe,” he told Abigail.
She created a globe of flame that floated above the party.
“I can create a light globe, too,” Mauritania reminded him.
Malem nodded distractedly. “Save your strength.”
The hawk entered the cave, and Malem followed after it. Abigail came close behind him, her flaming globe lighting the way.
12
Malem quietly explained his plan as they marched. He wasn’t too worried about the dragon overhearing; Nemertes had told him that like humans, dragon hearing worsened with age, to the point that some of the older dragons were completely deaf. But if it did hear, well, he doubted the words would be more than gibberish at this range, considering how much rock stood between them and the final chamber—the tunnel did not proceed in a straight line toward the inner cavern, but rather wound left and right. He also wasn’t worried about the Green noticing the flickering flames of their approach, again because of the winding nature of the tunnel, and also because the weak flame would be lost to the light of the glow spheres in the main chamber.
“Why do I always have to be the bait?” Gwen complained.
“You’ve never been the bait,” Malem told her.
“You should take it as a compliment,” Timlir said. “That the Breaker finds you attractive enough to melt the heart of an old dragon.”
“I suppose it is a compliment, at that,” Gwen said.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Ziatrice said. “If I were a dragon, and I saw a gobling running through my cave, I’d be distracted too. Any gobling.”
“I’m a half gobling,” Gwen clarified.
“I’ll be going with you,” Mauritania said. “So you won’t be alone.”
Gwen nodded. “Can’t tell you how happy I am about that.” She paused. “We can look these ones in the eyes, right? Their gaze isn’t hypnotic like the Blacks, is it?”
Malem glanced at Abigail, who confirmed: “A Green cannot paralyze with its eyes.”
The hawk roved back and forth, staying within the cone of light produced by Abigail’s flaming globe. That was by Malem’s command: he didn’t want the avian crashing into any of the walls in the darkness beyond.
He had been careful not to name the bird. He didn’t want to get too attached to it, especially considering he didn’t expect it to survive.
In a short time, the party reached the end of the tunnel, where it opened into the main chamber. The light from the Glow Spheres lit the way forward, to the edge of the treasure hoard that beckoned beyond.
Goldenthall licked his lips hungrily; Timlir’s face lit up. Xaxia’s eyes glinted. The Metals were not immune either, and they too gazed greedily at those piles of gold coins.
Not a sound, Malem sent.
He raised a finger to his lips, making sure the three not bound to him saw it, and then he turned toward Abigail.
The light, he told her.
Abigail doused the flaming globe overhead.
He sent the hawk darting into the main chamber.
The dragon suddenly went nuts.
“Fucking bird!” the monster said.
He caught a glimpse of a large tail sweeping past the opening as the dragon bounded across the coin piles, moving away from where it had been lying in ambush.
Malem tried to wrap his will around the creature, but couldn’t touch it.
“Are there any other dragons?” Abigail asked.
Malem paused, switching to the viewpoint of the hawk. He caught glimpses of the side walls as the bird circled the cavern, its little heart pounding as it dodged those deadly, snapping jaws.
“There are a few side tunnels that could be harboring something nasty,” Malem said. “But as far as I can tell, in the main chamber there’s only gold.”
Out of curiosity, and also wanting to draw the dragon out of the main chamber, he steered the bird into one of the smaller side passages. However, there were no Glow Spheres within, and the tunnel proved too dark to navigate, so he was forced to turn the hawk back.
He glanced at Gwen and Mauritania. “It’s time.”
The pair hurried to the opening of the main chamber, and paused at the brink to confirm that the dragon was indeed gone, and that no other attackers waited to ambush them. Then they hurried inside, moving as stealthily as they could across the golden piles. Malem heard the gentle jingle as coins and other objects shifted.
Meanwhile, the six Metals were undressing behind him.
Malem switched his viewpoint back to the bird. Just in time to watch the monster snatch the hawk out of the air. As those large jaws crunched down, the connection severed, and his vision returned to that of his own body.
He felt a slight drain in stamina. Not enough to be of any consequence.
“I hear you, looters!” the dragon roared. “And you shall be next!”
Maybe the dragon’s hearing wasn’t as bad as he had hoped, because he couldn’t hear a thing. Though undoubtedly Mauritania and Gwen were still causing coins to clink as they proceeded to their designated spots.
A few moments later he heard a voice from the far side of the chamber.
“Hey sexy dragon!�
�� Gwen said. “Wanna fuck?”
“Human!” Furlantos roared. “I knew I smelled your fetor!”
“I’m not human!” Gwen said.
Sword in hand, Malem edged forward, enough to peer into the chamber. The dragon’s green form darted from the far wall, and crossed the treasure pile toward Gwen. Its back was to him.
“Now!” Malem said, pleased that Balethorn remained quiet. If the sword had sung, it would have potentially given away his position.
The team rushed inside.
“Die looter!” Furlantos leaped toward Gwen and released a stream of green mist from its mouth as it did so. That mist was poison, of course, the specialty of green dragons.
Gwen dodged behind a treasure pile.
The darts of the Green Rot erupted from the center of the room as Mauritania emerged from beneath a pile of gold coins.
Furlantos screamed when those magical darts touched its flanks, but the creature was too old and ancient for the magic of even the queen of the Eldritch to cause any debilitating damage. The great beast shook off the blow, and turned toward the center of the room, where Mauritania stood. The dragon’s lips curled back into a twisted grin.
“Oh, shit,” Mauritania said.
The dragon rushed at her. It opened its mouth and unleashed that deadly poison, but she was already teleporting. Her green blur traveled through the dragon so that she appeared upon its back. She drew her long blades, Tiercel and Peregrine, and slammed them to the hilt into the base of the dragon’s neck.
The dragon shrieked, and shrugged her off.
She landed on the pile of coins beneath it, and Malem felt pain emanate sharply from her energy bundle. The dragon turned as if to stomp on her.
But then chains of black mist wrapped around its foreleg, and drew those talons away. Ziatrice.
Before Furlantos could respond to her, it was intercepted by the blurry form of a silver dragon. Abigail.
She struck the dragon and threw it onto the floor. The pair wrestled among the gold coins.
