Dragon of Eriden - The Complete Collection

by Samantha Jacobey

  A loud pop sounded outside their ring and everyone froze to listen intently.

  “I don’t think we are alone,” Meena whispered. Rising slowly, she stood, then squatted between her and Zaendra’s stones. Her fingers curling around her staff, she clutched it, waiting for the attack to come. When it did not, she called loudly, “Who watches us?”

  “Pfft,” Rey laughed, getting to his feet, “do you really expect them to respond?” The fog thick, he couldn’t see the girl next to him clearly, much less what lay beyond their clearing. “I doubt they can see any more than we can.”

  Also rising, Piers joined the banter, “Easy, now. We don’t want to start anything with the locals.” Recalling their small friend from the northern woods, he seconded his wife’s request, “We are here to visit the gnomes. Would there be any willing to speak with us, as this is their lands?”

  More twigs cracked, but the feet that broke them retreated rather than move into their camp.

  “I think you scared them away,” Amicia sighed, thinking of her merdoe. Pulling it from between her breasts, she squeezed it, calling to the unseen creatures. “We mean you no harm. Please, come and speak with us.”

  “And who is us?” a small voice replied.

  Ami smiled at her success. “I’m Amicia Spicer, mortal of the rim. We have come on a quest and seek the company of gnomes. Have we reached Falconmarsh?”

  “You have reached Falconmarsh,” the voice announced aloud, stepping into the ring. Holding up his hands, he warmed them at their fire, giving Animir a firm nod as he did so. “Elf.”

  “Gnome,” came his stiff reply. Turning to study the girl, Animir quipped, “Making friends without us?”

  “Not in so many words,” she squirmed, pushing her blanket off so she could stand. “I reached out and he replied.”

  Eyeing the group, the small creature appeared to be assessing their intentions, as well as the dynamic of their party. “You are in charge?” he asked of the girl.

  “Not… exactly,” she sputtered, folding her cover and placing it at the head of her makeshift bed. Pulling her brush from her pack, she ran it through her golden locks to make herself presentable. “Piers, I believe it’s your turn.”

  “My turn,” he laughed, calmly watching the encounter. “You seem to be doing all right with it.”

  “But I’m not in charge here,” she fussed in return.

  The gnome small, even more so than the mermaid, he cut his beady dark eyes around the circle, taking each of them in. Arriving at Oldrilin, he demanded, “How did you come by these parts? We seldom have visitors from other realms, much less serpents of the sea.”

  “Serpents?” Rey asked in a loud whisper as he stared at his small friend, unsure if he should be offended at the remark.

  “We came through Asomanee, by way of Rhong,” Meena explained, indicating Hayt with an open palm.

  “And what use have you for gnomes?” he asked, turning to glare at the girl who had not behaved as a mortal of the rim. His eyes fixed upon her, he watched her primp, as if she were trying to hide from him. “Amicia of the rim,” he pushed, invading her thoughts and demanding an explanation.

  “I prefer not to speak telepathically while others are present,” she explained aloud as she secured her braid. Turning to face him, she gave him a small bow. “It is rude.”

  “Rude,” he laughed in return. “You are no mortal of the rim,” he slurred. “Explain yourself and be quick about it. I have been sent to assess your presence here, and I am leaning towards asking for a hasty removal.”

  “Removal,” Reynard interceded, “but we just got here! And we fought off daemons to do that.” He had been holding his anger, but it pushed at the brim of explosion.

  “Please, sir,” Amicia tried again. “I have come to this land in search of my past,” she explained, kneeling before him to look him in the eye. Noting the pudge in his cheeks, she smiled, “I hope that we can be friends. We have made so many since our arrival here.”

  “As I see,” he agreed with a small nod.

  “Yes,” she grinned. “If you are here to assess us, then we have a request. We would like to speak to your leader.”

  Cutting his eyes over at the elf, the gnome grunted, “We do not trust those who travel in the company of elves.” Turning his back, he made for the trees.

  “Your highness, please,” Animir called after him. “I have left the pledge of my kin long behind. These are my friends, and I stand apart from all that my line has imposed upon you.”

  Pausing, but not turning to face him, the creature inhaled deeply. Sensing his power, the elf stood up straight, spreading his arms as if to welcome the magical search. His eyes wide, he waited for the verdict.

  “It has been many moons since you stood within Jerranyth,” the gnome claimed.

  “Yes,” Animir nodded, licking his lips. “Even when I lived among them, I was not whole within the kingdom of Lady Cilithrand. Please, grant us an audience.”

  Looking around at their pitiful camp, the gnome sighed. “I suppose you will need shelter… food and the like.”

  “We are capable of tending to ourselves,” the Mate bit tartly, finally taking charge. “However, we would like permission to be here.”

  “Permission,” their inspector laughed, pivoting to glare at the girl. “You have our permission. You may use wood from the trees to build a proper shelter. In a few weeks, we will meet with you to discuss your plans for the future.”

  Seeing the gnome move forward, the way he had come, Piers pushed, “We have not come to impose, nor do we wish to make our residence permanent. The sooner we can speak to your sovereign, the better.”

  “I am the sovereign,” the gnome replied, disappearing into the fog without another word.

  “Well that was helpful… not,” Rey spat angrily.

  “Don’t be an ass,” Amicia corrected. “They have allowed us to remain, and we should do as they ask. Make a shelter and wait, that is what we do.” Turning to Piers, she looked for him to confirm her orders.

  Staring at her, the older man felt disinclined to do so, as he strongly agreed with Rey. “We can’t wait around here for long,” he split the middle.

  “And we cannot force them to comply,” Meena joined the debate. “Gnomes are standoffish creatures with little use for outsiders.”

  “Few in Eriden seem to have use of outsiders,” Rey bit, his mood still foul.

  “What has gotten into you?” Amicia breathed, looking him up and down. “We just lost our friend, we are in a strange land, and we need to give the locals a few days to warm up to us. How hard is that?”

  Glaring at her, his chest heaved. “You are right about that. We have lost our friend. The rest, I’m not so sure about. This gnome insulted two of our group members outright, and who knows what he thinks of the rest of us.” Lifting an eyebrow at her, “I don’t want to stay here, for what it’s worth, princess,” he mocked.

  The fog had been dissipating as they squabbled, and Hayt took the opportunity to speak up. “May I say something?”

  “What?” Rey, Ami, and Piers chorused.

  “The dwarves and gnomes were once close allies. At least as close as any ever have been to my kind,” their newest member explained. “Let’s do as they ask, and when they are ready to speak to us, let me do the talking.”

  Staring at him, her mouth hanging open, Zaendra gasped, “I thought you wanted no part in diplomacy.”

  Shrugging, her husband replied, “That was different. This isn’t so we can line our pockets. We have a quest to fulfill, and I believe I can persuade our small friends to help if you give me the chance.”

  Studying him, Piers stroked the hairs on his chin. “Your people have been cut off from them for over two centuries. What makes you think they will honor your alliance now?”

  “I don’t know that they will,” Hayt shrugged, “but I know my odds have to be better than those of the elf.”

  “True,” Animir confirmed. “I say we put
together a shelter and then let the dwarf try.”

  “Aye,” Rey grunted, ruefully. “I might as well agree, as I can see none of you are willing to take my side.” Cutting his eyes over at Ami, he glared at her, disappointed that she had not.

  “I’m sorry, love,” she said softly. “We are only a few, and fighting them or forcing our way is unlikely to help, that’s all.”

  “Then we are agreed,” Piers announced, ending the dispute. “We need to locate a place for the shelter and decide upon its construction. I think we should keep it small and simple, as in the end we really don’t intend to be here very long.”

  A week later, the group had constructed a crude camp at the edge of the marshes where they had come out of the mountain; four shelters that faced a central fire. Each consisted of a roof made of grass and moss, with the opening being about four feet in height, which covered a patch of ground about six by six feet square as it cascaded to meet the earth in a single slant.

  Meena and Piers took the one on the south side, while Hayt and Zae held the “room” on the north side of the fire. Animir and Rey shared the east and Amicia and Oldrilin the west. Placing four large stones in front of their structures, the fire heated them, radiating warmth into their dwellings throughout the night.

  Inside, they used the bark of trees to line the ground, providing some protection from the damp conditions but allowing for a bit more comfort than their stone beds. Admiring their work when the chore had been completed, Amicia felt a great deal of satisfaction in their ability to adapt.

  “I believe we have done well for ourselves,” she observed as they gathered for their evening meal. Each pair sitting on the stones in front of their shelter, she smiled down at Lin. “Maybe the gnome lord will see us soon and we won’t have to stay here long.”

  “Oh, Amicia,” the siren laughed, as if her words were a joke. “Gnomes are eccentric creatures.”

  “Let me guess,” Rey interrupted, “friends to no one.”

  Coughing a laugh, Piers agreed, “We’ve heard that before. Pretty much about every realm in Eriden.”

  “Well, we each value our privacy,” Meena defended.

  “Yes, we do,” their visitor announced himself as he came out of the shadows, entering their camp from the forest side. “We wanted a few days to study you. We hope you don’t mind.”

  “And I suppose we have passed inspection,” Piers growled, turning his spoon in his hand as he returned the glare.

  “You have,” the gnome agreed with a grin. “My name is Thirac, head of the elders.”

  “Elders,” Animir observed with a grin. Nodding at Hayt, he indicated that the dwarf should take over their introductions, as planned.

  Standing, the dwarf silently agreed. “Thirac, I am Hayt, heir to the throne of Rhong.”

  “Previous heir,” Thirac corrected bluntly.

  “Yes, of course,” Hayt stammered, rubbing his full belly with his palms as he adjusted his stance. Suspicious, he growled, “You know of our escape from Rhong?”

  “It took me a few days to decipher it, but I believe I have worked it out,” the gnome replied evenly.

  “You have an orb,” Meena speculated.

  “As do you,” the gnome replied, bowing to her. “Why is it a surprise? Because the dwarves have shunned their ancestral rights?”

  “If it is that small gold globe you are speaking of, we have shunned nothing,” the dwarf spat. “My uncle holds ours for safe keeping.”

  “Ah, but he declines to use it,” Thirac chuckled. “He fears it, I think, from what I have seen.”

  “Yes, after our ancestors were forced from Asomanee, the use of all magic was rejected in our new caves,” Hayt agreed, feeling at a disadvantage. He shifted anxiously, under the weight of their scrutiny. “We believed it was the use of such trinkets that allowed the darkness to fall upon us. We used the last of our magic to barricade them out, and it has been forbidden to practice since.”

  “It was not your fault,” Animir input quietly. The others turned to face him, his tone requiring further explanation. Cutting his doleful gaze over at his new friend, he sighed. “The elf king sent Kedoria into your caves to destroy you.”

  “You confess this openly?” Hayt growled.

  “What fault is it of mine? It happened over a century before I was born,” Animir defended. “I merely wish to point out that those dwarves of magical decent gave up their gifts without cause.”

  “Correct,” Thirac chimed. “And now you see why we have little trust for those who share our kingdom.”

  “We do see,” Amicia sighed. “But hopefully your magic orb has shown you our intent is not to harm.”

  Turning his attention to her, the gnome studied her, his eyes looking her up and down. The pause long enough to grow uncomfortable, the Mate cleared his throat but remained silent.

  Cutting the glare over to him, Thirac nodded. “We will leave you to your dinner. We will hold a feast for you in Falconmarsh in three days. Come at sunset, and we will formally welcome you to the marsh at the ceremony.”

  “How will we find it?” Rey asked in surprise as their visitor turned to go.

  “The princess knows the way,” the gnome called over his shoulder before he disappeared into the woods.

  Curling her tongue, Amicia sighed, “I do wish people would stop calling me that. It’s like I have it branded on my forehead or something.”

  A round of glances passed through the group, then Piers announced, “Well, now that we have three more days to kill, I have a proposition.”

  “What sort of proposition?” Meena asked with a grin, recalling the day the two of them met.

  “Haha,” the Mate coughed a laugh, growling at her playfully before he quipped, “Not that kind. I’ve been thinking about Bally. It almost feels as if he is still with us, and I was wondering if we should hold some sort of ceremony for him.”

  “You mean a funeral?” Amicia gasped. “His body is lost in the great hall of Asomanee.”

  “Tis true,” Piers agreed with a firm nod, “but that does not mean we cannot erect a memorial or give him a proper farewell. I think he deserves to be remembered.”

  “He will never be forgotten,” Reynard bit pointedly.

  “No, of course not,” the first mate countered. “I’m not implying that he would or could be. I am simply suggesting that we give him… a grave. A place that we can visit when we wish to think of him.”

  “I do not see the point of this,” Animir agreed with Rey. “What good could carving a stone bring?”

  “It is our tradition,” Amicia sighed, thinking of the cemetery where her adoptive parents had been lain. “Like Abolia,” she observed. “They buried their dead with stone markers as well. Do others not follow this custom?” Blinking her wide green eyes, it occurred to her that they had not seen such a place anywhere else in Eriden.

  “No, we do not,” Meena replied sadly. “Bodies are summarily burned throughout Eriden, not planted beneath the ground.”

  “Oh,” Piers grunted, the image gruesome and nowhere near what he had in mind when he mentioned a memorial. “Well, it was just a thought.” Folding his hands, his gut twisted in anguish that he had unintentionally reopened their wounds.

  “I think it’s a good idea,” Amicia agreed. “He was a mortal of the rim, after all, not of Eriden. He deserves to have a proper funeral.” Smiling weakly at the Mate, she added, “Don’t you think so, Rey?”

  Swallowing hard, the man across from her cast an uneasy glance around the ring of faces. “I suppose that we could,” he speculated, not ready to admit his friend would never return.

  “A good idea,” Oldrilin sang, her happy voice in sharp contrast to the emotional state of the others. “Bally be remembered by stone.”

  “Aye,” Piers nodded. “I’ll set to work carving it in the morning, and you may choose where we will set it,” he suggested, indicating Rey with an open palm.

  “You already have the headstone?” Rey clipped in surpris
e, bordering on anger.

  “Well, yes, you could say that,” the Mate sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I found it a few days ago, while we were working on the camp. That’s what gave me the idea.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Amicia reassured, cutting Rey a silent plea to end the debate. “Today we have made the arrangements, and on the morrow we will hold the ceremony.”

  “And on the third, we meet with the gnomes. Perfect,” Rey growled, getting to his feet and leaving the group as he wandered off into the darkness.

  Written in Stone

  Walking through the woods, Amicia and Rey searched for the place Baldwin’s memorial would be placed. It would stand for all time, after all, and therefore the location must be precise. Reaching a small divide, they glanced at each other, as if to question their direction.

  “I’ll go this way,” said the girl.

  “Aye,” Reynard agreed, sticking to their previous path. They had explored a great deal of the area in the few days they had been there, and he felt she would be in no danger going alone. Entering a clearing, a circle of trees opened up before him as it had the time the group met the southern pack.

  “This is different,” Rey observed to himself, stepping further into the exposed space. Turning in a slow circle, he admired the height of the massive trunks. “This is very old, almost sacred,” he added more confidently. “Ami, come! I wish to show you what I’ve found!”

  Not far, the girl smiled at his enthusiasm. He had taken Baldwin’s death the hardest of all of them, she felt certain, and he had yet to speak of his friend in the past tense, as if he had not accepted that he was gone. Perhaps this day will help him say goodbye, she mused as she closed the distance between them.

  Entering the ring, Ami gasped, “Oh, Rey. This place is enchanted.”

  “Literally?” he frowned.

  “I think so,” she breathed, joining him in the center and turning exactly as he had, staring up at the branches overhead. “It’s perfect.”

  “Then this is where our friend’s memorial will stand.”