Rune Scale (Dragon Speaker Series Book 1)

by Devin Hanson

  "So we'll have to be fast."

  "And what about the airship? They'll see us climbing the slope."

  "Probably. Actually, I'm counting on it."

  "How is that supposed to help us? If they know we're there, there isn't anything I can do to protect you from an airship full of men with guns."

  "You won't have to. We climb the cliff, the airship comes in, the dragon flies out to deal with the obvious threat to her nest. We collect the scales and get out before the dragon finishes with the airship."

  Andrew started to protest then realized it was probably the best chance they had, if borderline immoral. "And what will happen to the airship?" He knew, from first-hand experience, how an airship fared against an angry dragon.

  Jules rolled her eyes. "What do you care? They're mercenaries out to sell me back to my father."

  "But there must be innocent people on board? People who--"

  "Once they cast off with Priah money in their pocket, they're pirates." Her voice was firm, her eyes hard. "No court in the land would defend them."

  She was right, but Andrew still didn't like it. He kept his mouth shut, though, thinking of the people he had climbed with not a week past. They would have killed him in a heartbeat for the scale he carried. The people on that airship were probably no better.

  "Gods help them," he muttered.

  "When dragons fly the skies," Jules intoned with a vicious smile, "the gods hold no sway over the fates of men."

  Morning came and found Andrew and Jules awake and watching. The evening before, Jules had given Andrew an exhaustive course in rock climbing. She made him practice knots over and over until he could perform them one-handed with his eyes closed, all the while lecturing on climbing technique and what to expect.

  They had carefully pulled back branches the night before and fastened them tight, giving the two a clear view to the entirety of the mountain. Andrew had the spyglass and was examining the slope, searching for the best climbing routes. Preferably routes where they could scramble up the slope rather than actually climb.

  The sun cleared the mountains and Andrew had to put the spyglass away; the rising sun blinding. "The slope isn't going to be impossible to climb, but at best there are still a few points where we'll have to go almost straight up," he reported.

  Jules frowned. "I guess it can't be avoided. That's what we brought the pitons and rope for."

  Andrew nodded glumly, squinting into the sun. "Did you see..."

  "See what?"

  "Hard to say, the sun is right in my eyes," he complained.

  "There!" Jules voice was an excited whisper.

  Instinctively Andrew froze in place, moving only enough to make sure his hood thoroughly shadowed his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dragon swoop down the mountain and glide south into the valley.

  "Burn it," Jules groused. "I didn't see where she came from. Did you?"

  Andrew shook his head. "Sun was in my eyes."

  "I'm sure her nest is on that slope though. There's nowhere else she could have come from."

  "We'll have to catch her on her way back." The dragon was gone, flown down the valley in search of her daily food. Andrew shaded his eyes against the rising sun. "I wonder if that was done on purpose?"

  "Hm? What was?"

  "The dragon. Flying out of her den with the sun, knowing anyone watching would be blinded."

  Jules snorted. "That's just a legend. Dragons are animals. Huge, ferocious, fire-breathing animals that have little more than a token use for our physics laws. But still just animals. No more intelligent than a horse or a dog."

  Andrew frowned. There had been a certain malevolent intelligence in the eye of the great beast that had destroyed the fleet. He was fairly certain he hadn't imagined that. "If you say so."

  "Not just me," Jules clarified, "every book I've read says that."

  They settled into the now familiar waiting, taking turns with the spyglass to look at the slope they would be climbing while the other kept both eyes on the sky looking for the returning dragon.

  It didn't take long for the dragon to return. It glided in from the west, a goat hanging limp in her claws. Andrew had the spyglass to his eye, examining a potential route, and almost dropped the fragile tube when Jules jabbed an elbow into his ribs.

  "Ow!"

  "Shh! She's back!"

  Andrew took the spyglass away from his eye just long enough to find the brooder as it beat laboriously up the mountain then pushed it back into his eye. This was the first time Andrew was able to observe the dragon in detail at his leisure. The spyglass brought the great beast up close, close enough that he could almost count the scales.

  "She's glowing," he said in awe. "I can see the heat rippling off her."

  "Don't lose her," Jules growled. "This is our last chance."

  The dragon changed the direction her wings were beating, exactly like a bird braking to land on a post, and settled onto a ledge moving so lightly that Andrew could almost forget how huge she was. Then she grabbed the goat in her jaws and walked forward, disappearing.

  "She's in," Jules said, "did you see the cave opening?"

  It took Andrew another minute of careful scrutiny before he convinced his eyes to see the opening. From their angle, the cave looked like a shadow cast on the rock, a mere dent in the side of the cliff. But once he saw it, it was obvious.

  "Yes," he finally answered and Jules let out a sigh of relief.

  "Show me!"

  He handed the glass over and directed Jules until she exclaimed in delight.

  "I see it! Okay, pack your bags. Let's get moving!"

  Jules' unending energy was draining and Andrew grumbled as he lashed his bedroll in place. "Would it be too much to ask for an hour's rest? Just an hour."

  Jules stopped pacing and sat on a branch facing Andrew. "Let me explain something to you," she said. "Dragons lay eggs once every, oh, fifty years. Which is a good thing, and a bad thing. It's good because if they were more prolific, humans would be well and truly screwed. It's bad because the likelihood of us ever finding another brooder again is so small as to be essentially zero. Especially since if we miss this chance because you're being a wimp, I'll throw you off the cliff myself.

  "We have to get to that nest today, tomorrow at the very latest. If we don't, the dragon won't be leaving. And a mother dragon is so fiercely protective of her eggs that she would burn the whole goddamn mountain range to keep them safe. And by burn, I mean turn the whole range into bubbling slag."

  "Yeah, but--"

  "Shut up! Listen! If the dragon knew we were here, so close to her eggs, it would fly over to Andronath, cannon towers or no, and slaughter every human within a hundred miles. I've no idea what forced her to choose such an exposed brooding den, but we should count our blessings."

  "Exposed? It's on a cliff!"

  "Exposed. I've seen pictures of dens where the dragon had taken the time to-- that's not important. What is important is you getting off your rear and getting up to that mountain with me. Now. Understand?"

  Andrew heaved his pack onto his back. "I get it."

  "Good. I'm glad we are able to come to such an amicable understanding. Now march."

  They reached the base of the cliff two hours after the sun had passed its zenith. Jules had pushed them with the only pause just long enough to cut lengths of sausage and refill their water skins at the stream.

  The cliff face towered above them, much steeper than it had looked from the other side of the valley. Scree and boulders had formed a rough slope, peppered with the occasional shrub or stunted tree stubbornly insisting this was a suitable location to grow in.

  "Okay. I'll be going first. Just do what I do. You should have an easier time of it because of your height and reach, but if you need a break, just sing out and let me know. Remember, use your legs, not your arms. When lifting up, push with your legs and just use your arms to hold you against the face. You'll last much longer that way." She drew out a diagra
m that she had drawn, marking different routes they had picked out while waiting for the dragon. "We're here," she pointed at the map at the bottom. "There's a long diagonal crack that runs about a third of the way up the cliff. There are a few good resting places along the way. We'll take a break at each. You ready?"

  Andrew nodded.

  "Excellent. This stretch is easy. We won't be needing the ropes and pitons. If you stick your fist in the crack and flex, you'll stick. Easy." Jules turned her back to him and started climbing. She moved easily, the muscles in her arms and legs standing taut as she pulled herself from hold to hold, both feet in the crack.

  Andrew sighed and followed her. In a way, Jules was right. He did have an easier time of it than she did. Every time Jules had to pause and figure out what to do next, Andrew stuck both fists in the crack and put his weight on his feet, enjoying the breather while Jules strained to figure out the route. His longer arms made it simple for him to reach holds that Jules had to grab on tiptoe. The crack was wide enough for the most part that he could get both of his booted feet wedged in the rock, yet it tapered fast enough that he could still clench a fist and take a break if he needed it.

  After what seemed like nearly an hour, they reached a gnarled oak that had somehow found hold in the rock and flourished. Jules helped him up the last few feet then patted him on the back.

  "You did good! Nothing to it, right?"

  Andrew settled himself gently on the oak's trunk. Jules was pressed against him from hip to shoulder as they sat in the cramped space and rested with their backs against the cool rock. "It wasn't too bad," he allowed. Even with his gloves, the skin on his knuckles and wrists felt bruised and abraded. His toes hurt and the tendons on the back of his calves burned. And yet it was exhilarating. The valley spread out below them, miles of mountains and the lush greenery around the stream. Jules felt warm against his side, her body a pleasing firmness where she pressed against him. "I could get used to this."

  They had a bite to eat and a drink of water, taking a minute to examine the diagram against what they could see of the cliff from their new perspective, then Jules pushed them into motion again. "If we rest too long our muscles will get cold and we'll be worse off."

  The next stage of the climb was simple at first, more of a clamber than a climb as the crack widened and deepened until they could climb inside the crack with their backs pressed against the rock. They reached a spot where a large piece of scree had wedged itself into the crack, blocking their forward progress.

  Jules waited for Andrew to catch up to her then handed him the end of a rope. "Tie this around your waist," she instructed. "I'm going to have to go around the rock and I don't see any good holds. If I slip, you're going to have to catch me, so brace yourself good."

  Andrew complied and submitted his knot for Jules' approval. He had tied it as Jules had instructed him yesterday, but it was one he already knew, a common sailor's knot made of a doubled figure eight, with the loop running around his waist. Andrew had the loop set to catch a downward pull, so had the rope set against his hips.

  "You sure you've never done this before?" she asked as she nodded her approval of the knot. "That's perfect."

  Andrew shrugged. "I'm not completely unfamiliar with using rope."

  Jules tied her end of the rope into harness that went around her waist and between her legs then passed the extra length through a belaying ring, so with one hand she could adjust the amount of slack. She did all the tying and ropework with one hand, faster than Andrew had worked his own knots with two.

  "You're good at this," he observed.

  "Not my first cliff," she agreed. "Dragons like ‘em, so I've become accustomed. Brace yourself, I'm climbing now."

  Andrew complied and watched as Jules swung out around the blocking rock, completely fearless. She hung with one hand from a lip of rock no wider than one of Andrew's fingers, then with beautiful economy of motion, swung a leg up and levered herself out of sight. Andrew doubted he could have made the same moves if he had practiced them and was fresh and rested.

  For a few minutes, Andrew braced himself with nothing to gauge Jules' progress beyond the occasional tug of the rope at his waist before Jules gave herself more slack. Then the ring of a hammer driving a piton into the rock shivered out, once, twice, a pause, then two more in quick succession.

  "Okay," Jules called down. "Come on up. Don't worry, I've fixed the rope. I'll take up the slack as you climb, so even if you lose your grip, you won't fall far."

  That didn't sound reassuring, but what were his options? Andrew unstuck himself from his wedging position and tried to find the handhold Jules had used. It looked even smaller than it had before, barely even qualifying as a hold. He got fingertips on it then swung out like Jules had.

  Immediately his fingers lost their grip and had a split second of heart-stopping fall before the rope went taut and he slammed against the cliff. Andrew choked off a shout and scrambled to find his footing against the cliff again, breathing hard.

  "Nice," Jules called down. "Don't worry, that's a hard hold to use. There's a good one to your left. Six inches. There you go. A little higher."

  Andrew found the hold, a nice solid ledge he could almost grab with his whole hand. At Jules' prompting, he found a foothold then another handhold. Where Jules had climbed past the obstruction using the minute cracks on either side, Andrew found himself scaling the cliff face itself until he was on level with Jules resting easy on top of the scree. A sideways jump and he joined her, breathing heavily, heart pounding.

  "Bravo! You're a natural. We'll rest here for a bit. Let you catch your breath, get some strength back in your arms."

  "I'm going to be so sore tomorrow," Andrew gasped as he lay on his back, grateful for the cool stone beneath him.

  Jules chuckled and set about quickly coiling the rope back up then pulled out the diagram again. "We couldn't see this rock blocking the crack from the other side of the valley," she said, thinking aloud, "but we're probably near the top of the crack. There'll be a flat spot then a series of climbs. No crack, though, so that might be a bit harder. I'll go first and we'll do the same thing we just did with the pitons and me taking up your slack."

  Andrew rolled onto his side and sat up. "I feel like such a burden," he laughed.

  Jules clicked her tongue. "No, not a burden. You've saved my life what, three? Four times? I've been a burden all the way here. It's time I returned the favor."

  The next hours of climbing went more or less exactly how Jules had predicted. By the time she called a halt, Andrew was shaking and he could barely make a fist. The last leg of the climb had been murderous, with Jules all but hauling him up by the rope wrapped around his waist.

  The sun was flirting with the mountains; already there were dangerously long shadows being cast over the cliff face, obscuring holds and kicking up a wind that tugged at their cloaks with a heart-pounding insistence.

  "We're stopping here for the night," Jules announced after gauging the amount of sunlight they had left.

  "What, here?" Andrew looked around, expecting to see more than the eighteen-inch ledge they were crouching on. There was nothing more than a small overhang on one side that offered negligible shelter from the wind and a sandy patch with a thorny shrub growing in it on the other.

  "It's too dark to climb further," Jules said firmly. "It's not ideal, but we can make it work."

  "Not ideal," Andrew repeated dully, pointedly looking out over the cliff edge into the dizzying drop below. It felt like they were a mile up, though Andrew knew it was more like three hundred yards. At any rate, it would be certain death to fall off.

  "It's not so bad," Jules said with her usual cheer, "at least we have a ledge!"

  Andrew snorted then gave her a wary look when he saw she wasn't kidding. "You sleep on cliff faces without a ledge?"

  "Got to have the right equipment, of course. And not a small amount of alchemy. But it's possible. Quite comfortable, actually. I'll show you how i
t's done. You'll see, it's perfectly safe."

  Jules set about driving a series of pitons into the rock above them after wrapping the head of the hammer with a fold of leather. The muffled thumps seemed to be drowned out by the rising wind, but who knew how well dragons heard, or if the brooder could feel the vibrations through the mountain.

  With the pitons in place and no avenging dragon swooping down on them, Jules showed Andrew how to make a sling with the rope and lash himself onto the ledge. He couldn't roll off if he wanted to.

  "Okay, this isn't so bad," he acknowledged. "But where are you going to sleep?" Andrew took up the ledge from bush to overhang with barely enough room for Jules to sit on her heels at his head.

  Jules sighed. "No grabbing," she warned him then, moving carefully, she lay down on top of him. "Make some room, big guy."

  Andrew had a dozen ideas and things to say run through his head, all of which ended with him bleeding on the bottom of the cliff with more bones broken than not. He held his tongue and rolled carefully to the limits of the rope webbing, giving Jules enough room to lie down between the cliff and himself. His back hung over the cliff, more off than on. Still, he didn't feel like he was going to fall and it was surprisingly comfortable.

  "Well, this is awkward," he said after Jules finished squirming around to find a comfortable spot.

  "You're a piece of work, Andrew," she teased him. "This whole time not a single advance. I'm starting to think you don't like women."

  Andrew flushed a deep red. "No, I mean, yes. I mean. I do like women."

  Jules laughed. "And here I thought I had grown horns during our travels."

  Andrew struggled to form an intelligent response then gave up. If she was trying to trick him into saying something damning, she could have just cut the rope at any point during the day. "I. You. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

  "Well now!"

  "But you're also a... what, a duchess?"

  "Ex-duchess, if you please. Not even that. I'd only be a duchess if my father died and my brother, and his wife, and..."

  "Either way. I'm at best a merchant's son, at worst a gunny, climbing the mountains at minimum pay to gather sacks of dung."