by Matt Forbeck
I reached out and held Belle’s hand. My friends had broken me out of jail for a reason. They needed me. Whether I wanted the responsibility or not, they’d dropped it in my lap, and I couldn’t find it in myself to refuse it.
“I’ve been in jail,” I said, glancing at each of the others in turn. “What’s been happening?”
“The Wizards Council has fallen to arguing among itself,” Danto said. “They’re bickering about whether they should make a stand or try to evacuate. They could be a huge help, but without the Dragon behind them, the Guard hasn’t been able to get them on board.”
“There’d been a bit of organization starting in Goblintown,” Cindra said, “but they never did have a strong leadership there. The Guard always made sure of that.”
“We spent most of our time fortifying our place,” Kells said. “Much good as that did us. The people in Goblintown put up as much resistance as they could, but only in pockets. Still, they fought right up until the end.”
“The halflings have mostly sealed themselves inside the Big Hill,” Moira said. “They’ve been digging tunnels underneath it for centuries. They figure they can hunker down there and ride out the initial battles at least.”
“The Ruler of the Dead isn’t taking any prisoners,” I said.
“My father’s been trying to tell them that. I don’t know if he’s been able to get them to listen. There’s a chunk of people who think we can cut a deal, that the Ruler’s always going to need some living servants, and the less threatening they are — like halflings — the better.”
“Have they checked those tunnels for explosives?”
Moira shrugged. “I’ll bet they’ve started by now. I don’t think any of us expected the Guard to blast away Goblintown like that.”
“What about the dwarves?” I turned toward Johan, who hadn’t said much yet.
He put down the mug of ale he’d been hiding behind. His face flushed with shame. “They’re a bunch of bloody cowards is what. They setting to hunker down inside the Stronghold for the long haul.”
That put me back on my barstool. “They really think they can manage that?”
“The Brichts have been preparing for this day for centuries. They built the Great Circle. They knew how strong it was and that without the Dragon it would fail. Even the strongest wall can’t hold up forever against a force like that army the Ruler’s been building since before my father was born.”
“Doesn’t the same hold true for the Stronghold?” Cindra said. She held her son and daughter close to her.
“You can go over a wall,” Johan said. “Breaking into the Stronghold’s something entirely different. It won’t hold up forever, mind you, but they could last for decades up there. Fair enough if you don’t mind living on mineral water and mushrooms, I suppose.”
“I heard they’re selling spots inside,” Danto said. “Going for top prices too. The gnomes and elves are snapping them all up.”
I looked to Belle. “Don’t the elves have a plan of their own?”
“Sure,” she said with a slow nod. “It was ‘back the Dragon in all things,’ but that doesn’t seem to have gone terribly well for them.”
“As far as geography goes, they’ll be the last ones the zombies reach.”
“True. It’s not an easy climb to get from the Stronghold Gate to the Elven Reaches, but if the Ruler’s army can top the Great Circle, I don’t think they’ll have too much trouble getting all the way to the mountain’s top. The only thing that could slow the zombies down is if they decide to stop and dig the halflings or the dwarves out first before they move on.”
She glanced over at Moira and Johan and put up her hands to apologize. “Not that I’m rooting for that.”
“So we’re dead,” I said. “The whole city. The zombies will overrun the mountain from bottom to top, and the only hope anyone has is that the dwarves might be able to hold out in the Stronghold long enough to starve to death.”
“That about sums it up,” Thumper said with a wry grin. “You’re a real inspiration, boss.”
I took a long pull from my beer and rubbed my chin for a moment, playing for a little time. We didn’t have much to work with, true, but I didn’t feel like lying down and waiting to be eaten. If we pulled the people of Dragon City together, we’d at least have a chance to go down fighting.
“I’m in the mood for playing long odds,” I said.
Moira gave me a smile. “Are there any other kind worth playing?”
“In this case, there aren’t other kind at all,” said Belle. “What do you have in mind?”
“The Guard’s operating on automatic, following their last orders from the Dragon as if he might show up to save the day at any moment. That leaves it to us to rally everyone together and see what we can do.”
“That’s not much of a plan,” said Johan.
“You got a better one?” I actually hoped he did.
He gave us a helpless shrug instead.
“Better to have not much of a plan than no plan at all,” said Danto.
“Right. Johan? Head to the Stronghold and see if we can get the Brichts to back us in the final battle. Take the palanquin with you, and bring Kells and Cindra and their kids too.”
“Why us?” said Cindra.
“So you can buy your kids a spot at least,” I said. “And stay with them if you like.”
She opened his mouth to object, but Kells stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “Thank you,” he said to me as their children clung to them.
“Where’d you park that thing, anyhow?” I asked Johan.
“It’s hovering by the lower exit,” he said. “Kells and Cindra showed me where it was.”
I nodded to show I was all right with that. Then I turned to the others.
“Belle, Moira, and Danto? You’re with me. We’ll drop off Moira at her father’s place on the way so she can see if we can get the halflings to join us. Those tunnels under Big Hill might come in handy.”
“And where are we headed?” Belle said, narrowing her eyes at me.
“First to barge into the Wizards Council,” I said as I got up from my barstool. “And then all the way to the top.”
“What do you mean?” Danto asked.
“Someone up there in the Dragon’s Spire is making decisions that affect the rest of us, right?” Spark stretched out along my shoulders, and I craned my neck back to get a better look at him. “I think it’s time we figured out who that is.”
“What about Thumper?” Moira said.
I stopped, stunned. I hadn’t accounted for my old friend in my planning at all. I looked at him, and he gave me a sheepish smile, like he was used to being overlooked.
“I’m sorry,” I said to him. “You weren’t part of our adventuring crew back in the day, and I just fell into my old habits. That’s a lousy excuse though. The adventure’s come to us this time, and you’re as much a part of it as anyone.”
“Thanks.” He rubbed his neck and blushed. “I think.”
“So where would you like to go?” I said. “We could use another hand with the wizards and the elves, or you can go help drum up some support from the dwarves. It’s your call.”
I didn’t mention — and didn’t think I had to — that coming with me was bound to be a great deal more dangerous. The palanquin was heading for the most fortified location in the city, filled with people mostly friendly to us. I, on the other hand, was heading out to not only argue with a bunch of wizards who didn’t like me much but also poke my head in with the people likely to be least happy with me as the man who’d assassinated the emperor who’d represented the base of all their power.
Thumper gave me a skewed smile that made me think he’d made the wrong choice and decided to come with me. Then he said something that made me sure he was even crazier than that.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stay right here.”
My jaw dropped, but I don’t think anyone noticed because Moira chose that moment to
choke on her drink. Belle slapped her on the back until she could catch her breath, and the first thing the halfling did once she could speak again was glare at Thumper and say, “Are you out of your mind?”
Thumper glanced around the bar, taking it all in. He looked like a king surveying his castle. In many ways, I realized, the Quill was much more his place than mine. I might own the joint, but he belonged here in a way no one else ever would. I couldn’t imagine the Quill without him.
I nodded at him. “Fair enough.”
“No,” Moira said, upset. “You can’t let him do that. It’s insane. It’s certain death.”
“Seems like that’s true just about anywhere in Dragon City.” Thumper lay a hand on the bar and caressed it like a familiar lover. “If I’m going to die — if I’m going to make a last stand someplace — I want it to be here.”
“Besides,” Cindra said, ever the tactician, “he could do a lot worse. The pit’s right across the street, which makes for a long and treacherous climb for anyone coming from that direction. And there’s the drop-off to the west. No one’s coming up that way for sure. Most of the other buildings in town have to worry about attacks from three angles. He only has two sides exposed.”
Kells nodded at that. “The first-story windows overlooking the street are barred. The ones on the second level are already boarded up. And he’s got plenty of food and ale, enough to last right up until the end. If we didn’t have the kids with us, I might stay here with him.”
Cindra shot Kells a murderous look, and he backpedaled hard. “Of course, the kids are always our first priority, so we’re off to the Stronghold with Johan.” He stuck out his hand to Thumper, who shook it. “Best of luck here though.”
I clapped Thumper on the back. “Hold out as long as you can. You never know what’s going to happen.”
He gazed out at all of us, about to head into the city and try to make things right. “You lot all take care of yourselves too,” he said. “I’ll hold back a cask of our best for the celebration when this is all over.”
I laughed, then leaned in and spoke to him in soft words. “You really think we can do this?”
He shrugged and replied just as quietly. “I’ve been watching you all since you started out, remember. If you can’t do it, no one can.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Back on the roof of the Quill, Moira, Belle, and Danto piled onto the carpet. I stopped for a moment, transfixed once more by the now clearer view of the massive pit that had been Goblintown just hour before. It started just across the street from the Quill, and it stretched downslope for what seemed like miles.
The totality of the destruction fascinated and appalled me. I couldn’t begin to imagine how many people had died down there, and it horrified me to think that the Guard may have just given the Ruler of the Dead’s army a huge boost. If she turned those victims into zombies and they managed to crawl out from under the rubble on top of them, the rest of the city wouldn’t stand a chance.
Still, for now I didn’t see any creatures picking their way through the wreckage. The guards still stationed at the wall continued to hail gunfire down at foes on the other side of the wall, and every now and then, a sniper in one of the towers picked out a zombie I hadn’t seen wandering closer to us until it became a wet splotch of blackness against the moonlit rubble. While the guards seemed to have the battle well in hand, I knew it would only be a matter of hours before the army of the dead overwhelmed them again.
Even the Guard could only destroy so much of the mountain before they wound up killing us all. I didn’t doubt that they could have laced the Village, Big Hill, and even Gnometown with similar explosives. I’m sure a lot of the residents of those neighborhoods were busy telling themselves that what had happened to Goblintown couldn’t happen to them, but I’d have put a sack of gold on the fact that a lot of orcs had thought the same thing an hour ago.
“Come on,” Belle said, interrupting my reverie by slipping an arm around my waist. “We need to move.”
I looked down into her beautiful eyes. To say I’d carried a torch for her for the years we’d been apart would be like saying the Dragon had an interesting diet. In my head, I’d long ago given up on getting back together with her, but my heart hadn’t ever been able to let go.
The irony of reuniting with her just before we might all die wasn’t lost on me. Sometimes it took that kind of pressure for people to toss aside the things that kept them apart, and I’m sorry to say that’s exactly what happened with us. Most people didn’t have to wait for the extinction of every living thing on the continent to push them together, but we happened to be stubborn like that.
I leaned down and kissed her lips, just as fresh and soft as the moment we’d first met. I knew that she couldn’t say the same about me, but she didn’t hold back despite that.
“All right,” I said. “We just haven’t had too many moments together lately, much less ones we could enjoy.”
“Treasure what you can get,” she said, smiling up at me. “That’s all any of us can do, no matter how long we live.”
We joined Moira, Danto, and Spark on the carpet. The dragonet had taken to Moira just fine, but he regarded the wizard with suspicion, probably because Danto always looked at him as if he was sizing him up for a dissection table. I understood the wizard’s curiosity, even if I wished he could keep it better contained. Most people never got this close to a dragon of any kind without being burned, and for a wizard it was a rare chance to explore and maybe even unlock new mysteries in the world.
“To the Wizards Council,” I said as I sat at the carpet’s controls. Spark slunk over from where Moira was stroking his back and climbed on top of my shoulder again. He perched there like a lookout on high alert, scanning the darkness around us with fierce intent.
The skies above Dragon City were filled with all sorts of flying platforms — both privately owned and for hire — conveying people to every part of the city. Most of them gave Goblintown a wide berth, though, as if the dead there might rise up and snatch them from the sky. As far as I could tell, the only sky traffic passing downslope of Low Pavement was on official business for the Guard. No one wanted to head for the Great Circle unless they had to.
We zipped through all that as we zipped up to Wizards Way, and I parked the carpet right outside the Academy’s courtyard rather than storming straight in. I didn’t want to deal with whatever wards or sentinels the Wizards Council might have thrown up in the wake of the destruction of Goblintown. The last thing we needed was to have a frightened and overzealous apprentice zap us out of the sky.
We walked in, and a pair of guards tried to stop us at the door. Danto stepped up to them both and said, “If you two cretins don’t want me to shrink you down to the size of a bullet and let my friends here fire you out of their guns, you’ll step aside. And let Headmaster Whitman know we’re on our way. I’m sure Bill could use some good news around here.”
The guards glanced at each other and then stepped aside. We strode right past them, and no one else tried to stop us. They were too busy running around in a panic.
As we rode the moving stairwell all the way to the council chambers at the top of the Academy, Danto chuckled to us. “I’ve cultivated a bit of a reputation as a fearsome duelist around here. It’s not true, of course, but I’ve let the rumors about me ripen for a long time. It’s times like this that I remember why.”
When we reached the apex of the Academy’s tallest tower, my father stood there on the landing, waiting for us. “Forget it,” he said to all of us. He saved an astonished glare for me. “We have this in hand. You’re not to interfere.”
“It’s good to see you again, too,” I said. “Thanks for all your help getting me out of that cell.”
He flushed in exasperation. “What was I supposed to do, son? Deny the charges filed against you?”
“There were probably a lot of options that didn’t involve leaving me there to rot.”
He sighed and peered
over my shoulder at Spark. “At least you’ve brought the dragonet with you. That’s something I suppose.”
I stepped toward the door, ignoring his attempt to block me. “I’m not delivering him to anyone, least of all you vultures. He’s here with me. That’s all.”
“This is no longer a matter of what you want,” my father said as I pushed the doors to the council chambers open and let myself and my friends in. “It’s a matter of our survival, and you no longer have the Dragon’s protection, do you?”
I glanced back at him. “Did I ever?”
The last time I’d been in the room, it had been a model of wizardly decorum. All that had been blown out the window, through which I could see a terrifying panorama that put the whole of the Goblintown disaster on display. Wizards clustered together in small groups about the place, puzzling over particular issues and debating arcane details. Some of them stood at the table, arguing over a set of ancient plans for some kind of airship that they’d unfurled across its lacquered surface. Others looked like they might be contemplating taking a flying leap out of that window without the benefit of any magic to alter their flight path.
Every bit of conversation stopped, though, as we walked into the room and they turned to see who’d dared to interrupt them. The sight of Spark perched on my shoulders caused more than a few jaws to drop.
“Ah!” Bill Whitman recovered his composure faster than anyone, which was one of the reasons he was the Academy’s headmaster and they were not. “Young Master Gibson! Always a pleasure. Have you come to lend a hand?”
“He’s come to see what you miscreants are up to around here, Bill,” Danto said, stepping out from behind me. “The city burns, and you’re up here doing research? How very typical.”
The headmaster flushed pink at Danto’s words. “You cannot enter battle without a plan,” he said as evenly as he could manage. “To compose a strategy, you must know exactly what has transpired. Without all that, whatever power you may have is useless.”
“You can’t take a piss without a plan,” Danto said. “Some of us are a bit more flexible in our ways of thinking.”
