by Colt, K. J.
I clenched my fist. “I know,” I said, “but I’ve said all I can say about it.”
Faala seemed to accept that. “It doesn’t hurt to ask.”
I had no idea how to tell her what I really felt. “I suppose not.”
For three more days we pressed on, walking through the endless tunnels high above the gnome settlement. We began to notice something odd the further along we got, something that brought us no end of concern.
The air all around us was getting colder.
It was thinner, too, harder to breathe. We found ourselves being able to make less and less headway every day. Our packs were heavier and our bodies weaker. None of us had received any training in how to survive at altitudes higher than the gnome settlement, but I could extrapolate from what I knew. We were getting close to the surface.
A life spent underground attuned us to subtle changes in air pressure and temperature. Somehow we knew how high we were, more or less, and we could discern the direction to our birthplace. Some called it a homing instinct, a sense as natural as one’s ability to discern which way was up or sense acceleration. It was one we didn’t really have a name for.
We all took turns carrying the eggs. I had them in my haversack on the first day, Khavi on the second, Jedra on the third. Faala, still recovering from the exhausting process of laying her first egg, would be spared carrying them as I had volunteered to take them again on the fourth.
Thoughts danced through my mind as we walked, daydreaming to myself and spinning mental puzzles to keep my mind from weakening. Tzala had always told me that the mind is just like any other muscle; it can grow with work and atrophy when idle. While sorcerers drew their power from their lineages and relied upon the force of their personality to summon their spells, a sharp mind was never an idle asset. It was one of her lessons that I kept close to my heart, especially during these long marches through the cold empty tunnels.
“Halt,” said Khavi, extending a hand out wide. I did so, years of training making the action immediate, Jedra and Faala coming to a stop behind me. I shrugged off my haversack and drew my weapon.
“What?”
Khavi leaned forward, his nose wiggling. “I smell something. Fire.”
I scrunched up my snout, trying to understand. “Fire? But what would be the fuel? It cannot burn stone.”
“It’s fire,” Khavi repeated, “but it’s strange. Burning something I can’t identify. Not flesh, not cloth. More like your old armour.”
The memory of Khavi nearly burning me alive had not yet faded from my mind. I scowled at him, but tried to smell what he could smell, drawing in breath through my nostrils, testing the air.
It was there, wafting down the tunnel. More than half a mile away, coming from above.
I had more experience with fire than Khavi. I’d smelt incense in Tzala’s chambers, scorched stone target dummies in my training, and dreamed of all manner of things aflame. But I’d never smelt anything burning like this.
“I have it too,” I said, inhaling again, trying to sample more of the distant aroma. “It’s coming closer.”
“We should set up a defensive perimeter. Jedra, can you set your traps in this corridor?”
“Of course,” she answered, wiggling her backpack around until it faced her. She withdrew her two jaw-traps, and scurried a dozen feet ahead of us. She laid the first metal contraption on the ground and cranked the lever to pry it open.
“Khavi, let’s hide. See if they pass us by.” He seemed distinctly displeased at that idea, but since losing his sword, he knew that he was less effective than he would otherwise be, having only his claws. Although Faala and Jedra had boosted his mood, the fire that had sustained him until No-Kill died remained gone from his eyes.
“So we are to cower instead of fight,” he muttered. “Typical.”
I turned to the last in our group. “Faala, Khavi and I will handle the fighting if they come through. If we fall, take the eggs and run.”
She bobbed her head. “Of course” Her fighting skills were not the equal of ours. The eggs had to survive.
As Jedra set up the second trap the rest of us retreated down the tunnel, crouching in the corridor. We hid as best we could, using the crystals as cover, pressing ourselves into the gap between the outcropping and the stone wall.
The minutes ticked away, all of us frozen and motionless, pressed in against the stone. The scent grew stronger, mixed in with others. The scent of creatures. Things I didn’t recognise.
An orange light grew from the end of the tunnel, flickering and dancing as it drew close, casting shadows on the wall. I squinted, keeping my eyes as closed as I could to shield them from the glare. I couldn’t see how the others were doing, but this was good. If I couldn’t see them, neither could anyone else.
A large creature as tall as two kobolds lumbered around the corner, holding a flame aloft on a long thin rod. The bright glare of the fire hurt my eyes. Its precise shape was impossible to determine, covered in heavy clothing that was bulky and thick, like the hair on the head of a gnome but much more voluminous. It had the same strange legs as the gnome, which made my scales rustle. The monster seemed almost entirely comprised of clothes, including its legs and arms, even its hands. A sword as long as I was tall rested comfortably by its hip. The only flesh visible was its face, the lower half wrapped in a black scarf, leaving just its eyes uncovered. I could see the glint of armour underneath its strange garb.
Horrifically, a white mist blew from the cloth covering the monster’s mouth in time with its breath. It dissipated in the air within moments, replaced by a fresh cloud. It looked like the Veil of Atikala, and I imagined the creature’s breath to be a scalding hot mist just like the one I had walked through.
Its legs strode forward, walking over Jedra’s traps. I waited for the snap of their release, but there was none.
From behind it more creatures came, dressed like the first. Eight in total. They, too, lumbered forward and Jedra’s traps did not trigger. They walked past us, and fear rose in my belly as a dozen outerfeet much bigger than No-Kill’s stomped by, but soon they retreated down the tunnel.
After a long moment I dared to crawl out of my hiding spot.
“Khavi?” I called softly to the blue-tinged gloom. “Jedra? Faala?”
They emerged, one by one. Faala’s claws shook uncontrollably as she uncurled herself and stood, and I reached forward to steady them.
“Don’t worry,” I said, keeping my tone soft. “They’re gone.”
“What were those things?” said Khavi. “Did you see the fog of their breath? What monster breaths poison so casually?”
I didn’t know. “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “They’re gone now. Let’s keep going and put as much distance between us and them as we can.”
Nobody argued. Despite the thinning air, the growing cold, and the lingering smell of smoke, Jedra ran forward to gather her traps.
“Jedra, what happened?” I asked. “Why didn’t the traps trigger?”
She beckoned me over, and I looked. “The triggers were crushed,” she said, gingerly tapping the trigger mechanism with her claw. Nothing happened. “The monster’s weight was too much. They just broke. Both of them.”
So great were the monster’s footsteps that they had stepped into Jedra’s traps without triggering them. Without even knowing they were there.
I reached out and tapped the edge of the wicked device. “Can you fix them?”
Jedra’s nose scrunched up as she examined them. “I think I can try something, but it’ll take time. I’ll need somewhere to sit down to do it.”
I nodded. “But not here.”
“No,” she said. “Not here.”
“Let’s press on then. Put some stone between us and the monsters, and if we find a safe place, we can fix them.”
Jedra looked at me. “What manner of monsters are so powerful?” she asked, her voice wavering, but I did not have any answers.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Finally we reached a cavern half full with water. I knelt, testing to see if it was fresh, and was surprised by how frigid the water was. Although the temperature was an oddity, the area had but a single way in and out. It was safe enough to call for a halt. I beckoned Jedra over.
“Fix and set the traps here,” I said. “Conceal them in the water. Khavi will remain with you to protect you. Faala and I will press ahead to set up our camp for the night.”
“You don’t want the traps with us?” she asked, fidgeting with the pack that contained them. She was anxious to prove herself and probably thought that if I had no use for her trapping abilities, I might discard her.
I would do no such thing, of course. “No,” I said, “but they’re necessary. They’ll be hidden better if you set them in the water, and if the monsters come back, I want them delayed as much as possible. See if you can adjust the triggering mechanism to trigger on their heavier weight. If we can wound one here, its bellowing will alert us further up the tunnels.”
“The triggering wire’s snapped,” Jedra said, “but I might be able to scavenge one from the other and get one working trap. If I tie the two trigger wires together, they should be able to take the weight.”
The trappers in Atikala had trained her well. “Better than nothing. Do it.”
I let her get to work. Moving back down the tunnel with the cold water lapping at my feet, I stepped up to Faala.
“Ready to move out?”
She nodded resolutely, but there was something else in her eyes. Worry? Concern? Fear?
I tried to gauge what I was seeing. Kobolds felt fear, but not as humans did. Humans with their selfishness and their desire to live at all costs. Kobolds feared death because it subtracted from the community. The collective would lose our skills, our talents, our contributions. Pain is passing and death certain for us all, so while we did not enjoy suffering, we willingly marched to our ends when our duty demanded it.
At least, those who were not like me did. I resisted. I did not mate with Khavi when my duty to do so was clear. Was Faala, like me, different?
“Don’t worry,” I said. “Khavi and Jedra will take care of our rear. It should be safe up ahead.”
Faala seemed grateful. “Thank you,” she said, “but I’m not sure I’ll feel safe until we reach Ssarsdale. I’m a caretaker. I’m not a warrior or a trapper or a leader. I’m not brave.”
I reached out my hand, hooking it around hers, giving a tight squeeze. “To survive Atikala, you’re brave. We’re all brave.”
“Are we?”
I said nothing but squeezed her hand again.
Faala and I moved down the tunnel, the air getting colder and colder as we climbed. My scales rustled as my body tried to keep warm and the lower temperature affected my metabolism. Gnomes and other such creatures could survive without having a way to regulate their temperature, but we had only a limited ability to do so. I was tired.
“Why’s it so cold?” asked Faala, rubbing her arms for warmth. “It feels like I’m walking through the mist again.”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “I know nothing of the world this high up. All I have is Tyermumtican’s map. I can only trust it leads us to Ssarsdale.”
She beamed at me. “I believe it does.”
I was glad to hear that. I exhaled out my nostrils. “You trust the word of a copper dragon?”
“No,” she said, “but I trust you. That’s enough for me.”
I was touched, and I gave her a long smile in return. “Thank you.”
“It’s just the truth.”
“It’s a welcome truth,” I answered as we rounded a bend in the tunnels. The passage opened into a depression, the bottom filled with two inches of water so clear and pure I could hardly see it. A rise to one side like a miniature island in a tiny lake looked big enough to house all four of us.
“Perhaps I should have brought Jedra with us. We could set the traps in the water here.”
“Your plan before was good,” said Faala. “It’s okay. Let’s set everything up here, so it’s ready when they catch up.”
I gingerly stepped into the water, the chill enveloping my feet up to my ankles. I sloshed my way to the island, and Jedra joined me moments later.
“I wonder where all this water is coming from,” she said. “It seems to be seeping in from the ceiling.”
I looked up. Faint moisture clung to the limestone above. “Seems so. Perhaps it’s condensation from the changes in temperature?”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
I shrugged off my haversack and laid it down gently, then opened the flap at the top. Both eggs were still inside. I unwrapped the top one to make sure it was unharmed, testing it with my fingers.
“I’m not sure how they’ll cope with this cold,” Faala said. “How do they feel?”
“Strong and warm,” I answered. Her concern for the eggs was touching. “They’ll be fine.”
A shadow moved at the entrance to the tunnel. I straightened up. “That was fast,” I said.
A thwap was all I heard in reply, followed by a sting in my abdomen. I looked down. A thin tuft of feathers poked out of my jerkin below my shield. Without thinking, I tugged it out of my chest.
A miniature crossbow quarrel.
“Faala!” I shouted, drawing my weapon with claws that suddenly felt heavier, pulling my shield in close to my chest. “Faala, it’s not Khaaaaa—”
I froze in place, rapier held out before me, my muscles like iron. The burning pain of poison flowed through my veins, a river of fire that spread up my left side, over my forehead, then down my right.
“Ren?” said Faala, scrambling to my side, “What happened?”
I tried to answer, but my jaw wouldn’t move, stuck open, my tongue an immobile lump of muscle. It was all I could do to breathe through my nose; the entirety of my being focused on forcing my lungs to pump air. The pain became torturous. All I could move were my eyeballs, although they quickly watered. I couldn’t blink. The burning flowed down my leg, poison making its way through my circulatory system.
The shadow moved. A gnome, his hair smoothed back and neatly groomed, reloading a hand crossbow.
“My, my, my,” he said in perfectly accented draconic, a thick puff of mist coming from his mouth with every word. “Two kobolds this far up. And I thought this was going to be a boring trip into the underworld. What luck. Who says the Gods are dead, mmm?”
Faala inhaled sharply, reaching out for my shoulder. She shook me. “Ren! Ren, wake up!”
The gnome calmly shot her. She stopped, her hand on my shoulder, frozen in place as I was.
“Silly scaled rodent.” He hooked his weapon into his belt and clapped his hands together. “Well, now that I have your full attention, how about we have a little chat?”
I couldn’t speak, of course. The idea seemed infinitely amusing to him. “No? Oh, more’s the pity.” He drew a stiletto dagger, wickedly edged and well oiled. Despite its obviously keen point, his other hand slipped into a belt pouch and retrieved a whetstone, dragging the steel across it. “Your kind are always so despairingly inhospitable.”
He stepped into the water, his outerfeet made little sound as they moved through the liquid, leaving almost no ripples. He stopped in front of Faala, pointing the dagger’s tip at the left side of her face, the side I could not see. Judging by the length of the blade it must have been pressed right to her eye.
“Tell me, blackscale, how many more kobolds are there?”
Faala remained immobile. Her right eye, the one I could see, jerked around frantically. She looked straight at me, and me at her, and I struggled against the poison’s insidious burn.
&nb
sp; The gnome slowly eased his dagger forward. She didn’t move, didn’t cry out, but I could smell blood.
It was not fair. Faala was good. Kind. Strong. Faala needed me to protect her. I was a warrior. It was my job. My duty. I was neglectful in so much of my life. I hadn’t bred with Khavi. I owned things. I knew this. I wanted to take it all back. I’d throw my eggshells away if the dead Gods would save Faala. I’d let Khavi do what he wanted. I just wanted her to live.
Faala’s eye jerked and spasmed, tears springing forth. I wanted to scream. I wanted to summon my magic, but my claws wouldn’t answer my call.
“Waste of a good eyeball if you ask me. Why, I don’t imagine that if I live a thousand years I’ll ever understand kobolds. You could have avoided this so easily by just giving me what I...”
His hand jerked forward. The blade sunk into Faala’s skull to the hilt. “Want.”
The light in her remaining eye died as the steel lodged itself in Faala’s brain.
“Such a shame.” The gnome kicked over Faala’s corpse. The body toppled over like a statue, her posture unchanging even in death, a black stain pouring out from her eye socket, the side of her face split in two.
The dragonfire burned and frothed in my heart, desperately begging to be unleashed, to burn this monster to ashes.
“Mercy me. I have gotten a little ahead of myself, haven’t I.” He chuckled, casually stepping over the body of my dead friend, his eyes fixed on me. “Golden scales. Fascinating. I’ve never seen one like you. I’m Pewdt.”
He introduced himself like I was a stranger who had done him a favour. I matched his gaze, boring into him and transmitting all of my hate and rage, picturing his head popping like a glowbug under my foot. The poison coursed back up my leg, then down the other, and I focused on that sensation. The pain. Like thousands of insects crawling through my bloodstream, biting and chewing at my veins. I needed the pain to force my frozen body into action.
