Dragon Breeder 3

by Dante King

The seven of us—Penelope, Saya, Tamsin, Renji, Jazmyn, Ashrin and myself—raced on dragonback back into the bowels of the Subterranean Realms.

  Our dragons, inculcated with the same urgency that drove us, ran like a pack of tireless greyhounds. We flashed through the heart of the sleepy encampment like ghosts. The dragons made little more noise than the odd rustle of a leathery wing or the thud of a footfall in the dirt of the road. They leapt through the dawn air, gliding in places and flying where the rickety buildings allowed. Within a couple of minutes, we were at the entrance to the Galipolas Mountain mines, and then we had passed through.

  I led the way on the back of Pan. Now that I had four dragons at my disposal, I was responsible for ensuring they all got a fair share of whatever action presented itself. Noctis, being as old, wise and cunning as he was, did not need so much practice as the others did, but the rest needed to gain equal experience.

  Pan was, as far as I could gather, faster and more fleet of foot than Noctis, Garth, or Wayne. Even running, with me on his back, the Tempest Dragon moved as fluidly as a shadow. He bounded over obstacles with ease, snapping his wings open for an instant to carry us over things that he might not have cleared without them.

  Seven dragonmancers ran along in silence, the size of our dragon steeds forcing us to stay in a single line once we had entered the tunnels of the Subterranean Realms. The torches were still lit down here, where soldiers of the Empire kept a constant vigil. More than once, one of the braziers was blown clean out by the wind produced by the passage of seven dragons blasting past.

  “You’re worried that we won’t succeed, father,” Pan said, after we had been traveling for almost two hours.

  My son’s voice was as cool and mellowing as summer rain in my head. He spoke with the open, unbashful manner of a child to their parent.

  “I wouldn’t say that I am worried, per se,” I said. “More like I’m dwelling on what might happen if we don’t succeed.”

  “You shouldn’t do that,” said Pan.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said as we continued pounding down the tunnel, toward the chamber in which we had fought with the ratfolk and put them all so decisively to the sword. “But knowing that does not make doing it any easier. It’s a little like trying not to think of a red elephant wearing a top hat when someone says that, whatever you do, you must not think of a bright red elephant in a top hat.”

  “That is hard,” Pan said. Although he had been running for almost two hours straight, there was nothing in the voice that echoed through my head that hinted that he was at all tired.

  “Yes,” I said, “it is.”

  “From what little I have learned from Noctis and my brothers,” Pan said, “dragons are quite different to people. It sounds like, a lot of the time at least, humanoids see success as this thing that can be attained. Something tangible that can be hoarded almost like gold.”

  “And dragons don’t?” I asked.

  Somewhere, in a private room at the back of my mind, I thought I caught a sense of Noctis chuckling ruefully to himself.

  “Dragons measure success only by longevity of life, I think,” Pan said. “An easy way to measure a thing. And this means that to be successful, all a dragon has to do is plow through and fight their way through any potential failure that might come into their path.”

  I had to laugh at that. “That sounds nice and simple. To live is to succeed. To die is to fail. I’m not sure if that’s the way it works with us humans, because you have to remember that I am not a dragon.”

  I was aware of Pan’s mental shrug, as indifferent and bored as any teenager that I had ever met.

  “You may not be a dragon,” he said, “but you’re not just a man either, Father.”

  I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if he had added a resounding ‘Duuuh,’ to the end of his sentence.

  “You might be onto something there,” I said grudgingly. “You’re pretty switched on for an entity that is only a few days old.”

  It was Pan’s turn to laugh at that.

  “My body might only be a few days old,” he said as he launched himself so fast down the passage that he actually sprang onto the wall before bounding onward. “But I share the mind of Noctis. He has taught me much that is known only to dragons. He is a smart one. And almost as ancient as this world. Which is to say, very, very old.”

  I snorted. She might have Noctis’s knowledge, but she had my sense of humor.

  “Don’t fear, Father,” Pan said. “You need to open up that mind of yours and embrace the dragon mentality. You’ll be happy that way, I think.”

  “And what mentality is that, smart-ass?” I asked.

  “To know that to truly succeed is to get what you want—more life,” Garth suddenly butted in.

  “While happiness is to want what you get—more life,” Wayne chimed in.

  “Thanks for the advice, kids,” I said, with a mental eyeroll. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “We know you will,” Pan said.

  “If you don’t, we’ll remind you,” Noctis said, putting in his ten cent’s worth.

  “Excellent,” I said, hunkering down lower on Pan’s smooth neck as the passageway narrowed.

  It seemed long ago that it had just been me and my own thoughts in my head.

  It took us a little over three hours to reach the chamber in which the battle with the ratfolk had taken place. The cavern was empty of bodies now, though there was still a faint metallic smell in the air that hinted at blood, as well as dark brown stains across the dry dirt floor. The corpses had all been hauled to the surface by the highly efficient wagon teams and burned on the mass fires outside of Dodge City.

  We halted briefly here to stretch and eat a morsel of food. None of us really knew what we were going to be facing once we cleared the ratfolk township and entered the tunnel beyond. We were heading out beyond the Mystocean Empire’s frontier, into the unknown, and I figured it best to take on a little food and check our gear.

  This had been met with an impressed approval by Jazmyn and Ashrin. I was sure that it might have looked, to them, like a relatively inexperienced Rank One dragonmancer was showing some hard-earned wisdom.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell them that I had learned these things through watching movies like Kingdom of Heaven, and reading The Art of War and The Prince.

  After we had stopped for our brief rest and a final weapon check, we hurried onward.

  That final stretch of tunnel that led down to the ratfolk’s township flashed by us. Before I knew it, Pan and I had burst out into the open air of the gigantic cavern.

  “Take to the air,” I instructed. “We’ll reconvene on the roof of the temple and make sure that the coast is clear.”

  Pan launched himself upward, as silently as an owl taking off. The more time I spent with the Tempest Dragon, the more I came to believe that he really was stealthier than his two brothers.

  “It is one of the many powers and benefits given him by the type of Etherstone that you used to bring him to maturity,” Noctis told me as Pan flapped his way soundlessly upward, heading for the monolithic temple in which the ratfolk had foolishly sought to contain the wild dragon. “Obviously, this stone contained the essence of a storm, which is why Pan became a Tempest Dragon.”

  “Why would that mean that he can move so silently, though?” I asked as Pan, and the six other dragons following her, banked left and slowed as they approached the temple. “A thunderstorm isn’t known for its stealth. Quite the opposite in fact.”

  “You are too narrow in your thinking, Mike,” Noctis said, with his usual devastating honesty. “Do you ever hear a storm building? More often you smell the rain, or feel the freshening wind, just before it strikes. Tell the seamen that suddenly find the head of the storm rising over them that it is a noisy thing. Storms make the gods’ own noise when they strike but, more often than not, they come and go with very little fuss.”

  He was right, as usual, but we alighted on the great flat exp
anse of the temple roof and had to stop our chat.

  I slid down from Pan’s smooth back and stepped onto the roof. While the dragons lay flat so as to minimize the outline they showed against the rock wall, I crawled with the rest of the dragonmancers over to the edge of the roof. Together, we scanned the previously unsurveyed far side of the enormous cave.

  “I see sentries,” Saya said, almost immediately. “Over on the western—no that would be the southern side, wouldn’t it?”

  Ashrin made a soft noise of concurrence in her throat.

  “I see them too,” Jazmyn said. “Not many. They look like they’ve just been stationed as a rearguard. A screen of skirmishers to watch the ratfolk township and make sure that no other Empire forces appear without warning.”

  “Are they ratfolk or kobolds?” Renji asked in her slow, thoughtful voice.

  “Look like kobolds to me,” Ashrin said. “The way they move, the way they slink, but we’re too far away to be certain.”

  “Doesn’t matter what they are,” I said. “We have to take them down. I want to preserve our secrecy for as long as we can. How many of them can everyone make out?”

  After some careful individual scanning, we concluded that there were an even dozen of the scouts. They were strung along in a line on the far side of the township, beyond which we could make out a large, lone tunnel that we guessed was where Elenari, Antou and their soldiers had gone down.

  “Right, we take out those scouts as quick and clean as hawks taking out rabbits, then we make our way quietly into the tunnel beyond,” I said, backing slowly away from the edge of the roof in a prone position. “Once we’re through there, we reconvene and assess what to do next. Sound good? Any objections?”

  No one said anything. Jazmyn and Ashrin, who I was looking to for guidance in this situation more than any of the other women, seconded my plan with a nod.

  “Good,” I said. “Everyone takes out two scouts bar me. I’m going to take down the last one and head straight through to the tunnel ahead of you guys. If there’s anything particularly shitty waiting for us down there, I’ll turn back and warn you. Otherwise, head through behind me and keep an eye out. I’ll signal you from a vantage point.”

  Chapter 21

  We remounted our dragons and dropped from the back side of the temple with all the fuss of seven leaves falling from a tree. Flying low over the tops of the ratfolk’s crude dwellings, we cut through the wider streets when we could, heading for where we knew the scouts to be. When we were only seconds away, I made a hand motion above my head, ordering the formation of dragonriders to break and take out their targets.

  Pan cut hard right, ripping past the edge of a building by such a small margin that I heard his claws scrape the stonework. Then, he popped up over the edge of a two-story hovel, and I sighted my target: the lookout on the far right of the line of scouts.

  The creature was most assuredly not one of the ratfolk, and so I assumed it must be a kobold. It was reptilian in appearance, with a long, high forehead that curved backward and turned into a blunt horn above the back of its neck. Its hands were like those of the gnolls, in the way that they were three-fingered. These fingers though, were not stumpy. They were long and dexterous looking, tipped with claws the color of dull iron.

  The kobold stood man-tall and was completely bereft of anything that resembled armor, which I imagined was because its skin looked about as tough as that of a crocodile’s. Its muscles were well defined and laid out in slabs on its athletic frame. No boots covered its clawed feet. In fact, the only item of clothing that it wore was a tattered loincloth tied about its waist. A tail that would not have been out of place on a velociraptor stuck out behind it.

  The creature was holding a bow of horn in one hand and had a bugle of sorts slung over one shoulder. As Pan and I popped up into view, traveling at what must have been close to fifty miles per hour, the kobold’s wicked yellow eyes widened in shock. The vertical black pupils contracted, and it let out a gargled little cry.

  My Chaos Spear—Noctis’ magic made all too real—was in my hand and ready. As soon as I had a clear shot at the sentry, I let fly from Pan’s back, standing so that I could get every ounce of muscle behind the throw.

  The spear went through the middle of the scout’s muscular chest like a cauterizing lance through a boil. The kobold didn’t get anywhere near the bugle that it attempted to raise to its lips. The spear passed clean through my foe and struck the roof behind it, burying itself a foot into the solid stone.

  The kobold opened a mouth full of sharp yellow teeth, but all that came out was a glutinous stream of green blood. It staggered forward a couple of steps, pawing weakly at the air, and then fell off the side of the building that it had been standing on and landed in the street below with a dull thud.

  Pan and I were already gone before the kobold had hit the deck. Judging by the complete lack of an outcry behind me, I imagined that the other kobold scouts had been taken just as acutely by surprise as the one that I had killed.

  Pan and I sped onward, making a beeline straight for the tunnel entrance. As it loomed up ahead of us, I saw that it was a far bigger tunnel, both in girth and height, to the one that the wild dragon had forced its way up less than a week ago. This underground passage looked far more like it had been built with the intention to move many people or goods through it simultaneously. It was easily wide enough for ten humans to walk abreast, and more than high enough for Pan to fly through without difficulty.

  The enormous chamber and the ratfolk’s township had been lit by strange bioluminescent worms that moved their glacially slow way across the roof. This tunnel, however, was illuminated by torches hanging from brackets hammered into the rock walls.

  After the gloom of the previous chamber, the roomy tunnel was comparatively ablaze with light. Deciding that speed was better than caution here, Pan rocketed down the tunnel like a bolt of lightning, his wings humming under the strain, little blue fingers of electricity dancing down his flanks and across his wing membrane.

  I chanced a glance over my shoulder but could not see any of the others just then. I imagined that they had probably been held up only slightly by the extra guards that they had to dispatch and would be along any time.

  I didn’t like their chances of gaining on Pan though. The youngest and least inexperienced member of my growing clan was moving quick enough to catch up with tomorrow.

  The well-carved passage was about a mile and a half long, yet we saw only a single pair of guards when we were halfway down its length. These two scouts were armed with the same bow and bugle combination of the others back in the main cavern. It looked as if the kobolds were only a little better at military strategy than the ratfolk. Evidently, in the case of an emergency, at least one of the scouts behind us was meant to have produced a horn call. Presumably, that blast on the bugle would have echoed and reverberated its way down here to be picked up and passed along by one of these two guards. It was simple, and might have been effective had it been your run-of-the-mill soldiery attempting to sneak up on the rear of the kobold line.

  Clearly, the lizard folk had been putting a lot of faith on that initial string of sentries to get their warning out. Obviously, they had not reckoned they would be attacked by enemies that could move at the speed of a cheetah shot up with adrenaline.

  I wasn’t sure what Pan and myself soaring through the tunnel must have looked like to the two kobold guards. Needless to say, they did not recognize us as a threat until it was far too late. One kobold managed to touch bugle to its lips this time, but in the next instance, Pan was on them and visited them with a violence that was faster and more deadly than a knife fight in a telephone booth.

  Both kobolds dropped in twin sprays of green blood as the Tempest Dragon lashed out with his unforgiving talons. Within mere moments, Pan and I were through the end of the tunnel and out into the huge void that opened up beyond us.

  To call the space that we emerged out into a cavern or an und
erground cave would have been like calling the Himalayas a bunch of hills.

  It was fucking enormous. Stupendously vast and titanic.

  Pan exited the tunnel mouth and, showing a great deal of savvy for a dragon who had never been on an expedition of this nature, instantly banked upward and flew up into the shadows.

  The roof of the mammoth space was so far above us that it would have taken a minute of solid flapping to reach it, so Pan simply settled onto a craggy outcrop and lost himself in the deep gloom.

  A few seconds later, the rest of the dragonmancers shot out into space below us and Pan let out a low hiss. It must have been a shriek or call that was only just discernible to my ears, but it turned the six dragons in mid-air, as quickly as if they had been hooked on invisible fishing lines. In an instant, my companions had located Pan and me, and came to roost on the same wide ledge on which we were settled.

  Dragonmancers sat astride dragons and looked out, agog, at the sight that spread itself before our eyes.

  From where the seven of us were perched, the vast cavern spread out below us, almost as if we were sitting at the lip of some giant gully or bowl. The tunnel entrance through which we had come turned into a wide road that led down, through a series of severe switchback turns, to the floor of the cavern. This well-engineered and well-tended road struck out as straight as an arrow from our side of the cavern to the opposite side—some two or three miles distant from us.

  “Well string me up and bugger me with a poleaxe,” Jazmyn breathed in a hoarse whisper. “Me and Ashrin have seen a bit of shit in our time, but I don’t think we have seen anything as fuckin’ insane as that.”

  The rest of us did not say a word. It seemed pointless.

  Across the underground tableland, which was bereft of any feature bigger than a car-sized boulder, on the further side, was a fortress. It was a great, crumbling, cinematic ruin of a stronghold. Disintegrating towers had half fallen down and now stared out at the surrounding plains with empty windows. Stone walls leaned outward ever so slightly so that scaling them was an impossible task. Mammoth gates looked like they had fused into one giant block of iron-bound wood.