“Got it!” Tozgan yelled. Ori’s crossbow was nocked and ready as well. They were to the right of Lailoken and the others, not in ideal position, but it would have to do under the circumstances. Driano backed away from the action, Belthos at his side.
“Wait for another pass!” Lailoken yelled.
The Opal roared and spit bolts of lightning across the sky. The loud noise made the slayers cower and cover their ears. Then it circled around and dove at them, breathing lighting at the ground.
“Now!” Lailoken yelled, hoping they would hear him over the lightning’s crackle. Two black crossbow bolts flew across the sky and both found their mark, striking the Opal in the side and forcing it to tumble in the air. It roared in pain and fell to the ground.
“Now!” Lailoken yelled and headed for the moaning dragon squirming on the ground. It tried to pluck the steel bolts from its side but was unable to reach them. Blood covered the snowy rocks. Lailoken was the first to reach the dragon and raised his broadsword high, but the dragon belched lightning at his feet. It created an immense crater in the hard dirt and knocked the slayer into the air, slamming him on his back. His sword flew from his hands.
“Attack!” he vaguely heard Darlonn yell, and the rest of the slayers joined him. Lailoken was dazed and unable to comprehend what was happening. He heard crack after crack of thunder as the dragon spit lightning at the slayers. Someone screamed.
“Ori?” he said weakly.
A warm sensation covered his body. Driano, he thought. The Magus was using his meager skill in healing to try and help him. Lailoken laid his head down on the cold ground and let the Magus do his thing.
Jor screamed somewhere to his left. Darlonn yelled for retreat. Belthos—was it Belthos? He wasn’t sure—cried out for mercy. It sounded like chaos.
The dragon roared. Lailoken felt a whoosh of air and a dark figure passed over him. Lightning illuminated the afternoon sky. Thunder boomed. Then came the calm after the fight. The valley was stunned, as though unsure what to make of it.
Jor’s bloodied face peered down at him.
“Are you all right? Are you hurt?” she asked. Her voice sounded distant.
He wanted to answer but his voice had no strength.
“He’ll be fine. Got hit in the head. He’s a bit dazed right now,” Driano said. Lailoken turned his head toward the Magus, noticing his stone glowing.
Jor looked away, her red hair flashing in front of him. Her eyes relaxed, the thrill of the fight now dissipated. “We make camp here,” she said. “Ori, get a fire started. We need to clean ourselves of this filth.” The slayer went to work building a small fire, producing a pot from his bag and filling it with snow, then warming it over the flames.
It took time, but eventually they cleaned most of the blood from themselves and their clothes, paying special attention to their swords and scrubbing them free of blood, then making sure they were dry before placing them back in their scabbards.
Lailoken did little to help, his head still pounding from the dragon’s blast.
CHAPTER
Eighteen
Alushia worried about her father after Myrthyd’s visit. There was something odd about the Kull, but what it was, she didn’t know. It was just…different.
Her father had been on many hunts for as long as she could remember. She had more memories of watching him leave than of him doing anything else. There was the hunt when she was five, when thick snow covered Tregaron. The Kull Naga Shoran called for a hunt after three Onyx dragons were spotted east of Kulketh. Alushia was held back by her uncle while she watched her father trudge through the snow, never turning back.
There was the hunt when she was eight. The summer was thick and heavy, and a clan of Jade dragons had crossed the plains from the south and were spotted near the border. Her father left in the middle of the night and she woke to an empty house, her uncle arriving near midday after she’d felt the pang of loneliness during the morning hours.
But this latest hunt was one she had no concerns for. Until recently.
Myrthyd’s arrival was unexpected and awkward. She still didn’t understand exactly what he wanted, other than to talk about her dark dreams. It had been several days since she had one, but each dream left her feeling exhausted and on the edge of destruction, like her mind would soon succumb to the darkness that the dragon created as she helplessly watched.
“Stupid dreams,” she muttered. She’d been out near the barn, gathering eggs and feeding the ox and swine. Brida was out in the fields chasing a hare, sensing the thrill of the chase as Brida sent impressions to her. She’d finished the fields the day before and had a few days to catch her breath and relax before heading back out and working dawn to dusk again. With as much rot as she expected, she had to work extra hard to grow enough food to eat.
That evening she fell asleep earlier than normal, the exhaustion from working in the fields catching up to her. She soon found herself high on a cliff overlooking the sea to the north.
Waves crashed on the beach below, smashing on the sand and rocks. The white-capped surf relentlessly slammed the shore and quickly retreated back to open waters. Gulls circled a dead fish washed up on the beach, their noisy calls barely audible over the waves. Far out to sea a large ship with white sails slowly crossed the horizon, no doubt a fishing boat returning to Bayfrost with the latest catch. She inhaled deeply, the salty air refreshing and alluring. The sun hung in the sky, ready for its moment to hide behind the horizon. The green grass was soft when she sat cross-legged to watch the serene view.
A large thud shook the ground behind her. When she turned around, she saw the black dragon with smoky eyes staring down at her, its large torn wings moving with the wind.
“Get away from me! Leave me be!” she shouted, scrambling back from the dragon and drawing dangerously close to the cliff’s edge.
The dragon tilted its head ,and though the eyes were smoke, she felt them boring into her all the same. Her face flushed, turning her pale skin nearly as red as Jor’s hair.
The dragon opened its mouth and she closed her eyes, waiting for it to devour her and turn her into nothing.
Then it spoke.
“You can see me?” it asked. Its voice was thick and heavy like honey on a hot day.
She opened her eyes and stared in disbelief at the dragon before her.
“You can see me?” it asked again.
“Ye-yes, I can.”
“How long have you had the ability?”
“What ability? I’m not sure I understand.” She grabbed her elbows, shaking. It never occurred to her to try and reason with her dream before. The ferocious dream-eating beast seemed a little less intimidating now.
“How long have you seen me? How long have you had the ability to see me?”
Alushia shrugged. “I don’t know. Since my father’s last hunt, so maybe several months now.”
The dragon bristled when she spoke of the hunt.
“The hunt, the slayer, the halfling.” It tilted its head to the other side. Alushia was positive it was a male dragon, though how it was alive and speaking to her, she had no idea.
“Who are you? What are you? Why do you destroy my dreams?”
The dragon inhaled deep and slowly let out a rancid breath that stunk of sulphur and rotten meat.
“My penance for being weak. I’m trapped within a stone and cursed to devour halfling dreams.”
Alushia scrunched her face. “The halflings? You’re in a stone? But how can that be if you’re in front of me?” What kind of dream is this? she thought, wondering if it was a dream within a dream.
The dragon roared. Alushia worried it was infuriated and would turn its anger on her. It settled down, the smoky eyes peering at her.
“My curse will destroy my kind. It will destroy you, too! All halflings will die. All halflings will live a life undead. Danger and death await from my curse. Hide the stone. Hide the Blood Stone from mankind. The power…the power is too much. No man should ha
ve the power it wields.”
Alushia sat upright, the sense of danger coming from the dragon no longer imminent. It was calmer, more settled.
“Who are you?” she asked again.
“My name was once Avess,” it said, the strain of answering apparent in the slow reply.
“Avess?”
The dragon roared, beating its wings. “No more! That name is dead now…dead like the body I inhabited.”
“But what are you?”
“I am a cursed soul. A soul lost within a stone left to wander the living no more. My realm is within your mind, the minds of all halflings. My curse is to destroy until there is nothing left.”
“I still don’t know what you mean.”
The dragon leapt in the air, beating its shredded wings and flew high into the sky.
“No wait! Come back! I want to know!”
Alushia ran after the dragon, calling for it to return, but it refused to change course.
Soon after, she woke.
A thin sheen of sweat covered her face and chest. The fire in the main room was almost dead and the dark night felt oppressive. Outside, owls and insects carried on in their nocturnal way, creating a chorus she’d come to find comfort in. Brida snored loudly in the corner of her room.
“What ’s going on?” she asked.
Sitting upright on her bed, the straw poking through and itching her, she swiped her face with her hands and tried to recall all she’d seen and heard in the dream.
The speaking dragon surprised her, and yet it felt…natural. She’d never been on a hunt before and only saw dragons from a distance. But to have it converse with her…to share thoughts with her was unexpected.
“Was it calling me a halfling? That’s impossible!” Her small housecat jumped onto her lap, purring and rubbing her soft head on Alushia’s belly. Alushia stroked the cat’s head. Blackie, she called it because of its dark fur. There were at least ten cats running around the homestead other than Brida, and she gave up naming them all long ago. The cat continued to nuzzle her way closer to Alushia, her loud purring softening the oddness of the dream. She stood, Blackie jumping off her lap, and went to the main room of the house to get a drink.
It was near dawn and Alushia gave up the pretense of going back to sleep. Soon, the morning came and the animals needed tending to. It would’ve been nice to have help, but her pride wouldn’t allow it. She grumbled but understood it was her decision when she left the home, and Blackie’s, to go to the barn and start the day.
All day in summer’s heat, Alushia’s mind returned to the odd events of the night before. What did the dragon want? Why did it choose her to speak with? What did its words imply? They couldn’t possibly be true, not about her, anyway. Her mother and father were both human. She’d never met her mother, but she knew without a doubt she wasn’t a shifting dragon-woman. She would’ve been killed on sight in Tregaron and she wouldn’t blame them for doing so. Those awful creatures were part of the problem in Rowyth. They fervently tried to subvert humanity with their species and it was just…wrong. Her father was clearly not a dragon-man. His entire life was spent hunting them and he was the best in Tregaron; maybe the greatest slayer of all. No, she was not a halfling. It must have been a lie, a trick at her expense. As she thought about it, she grew angrier.
“I hate those things,” she said to the sow rolling in the mud. “If I had my way, I’d kill them with father. Lies. Nothing but lies.” She tossed rotten lettuce in the pen and the swine hungrily gobbled it up, the fat sow in the mud late to the feeding and squealing at the others for her bit.
That night, Alushia fell asleep wanting to find the black smoky-eyed dragon in her dreams. She had questions and fear was not going to stop her.
She was disappointed when she woke in the morning to find that the dragon did not visit her. Several nights passed without a dream at all and she was beginning to wonder if it was done with her. Then, on the fourth night after her last encounter, the dragon reappeared as she traipsed along a valley full of poppies bordered by pines on both sides. It was a pleasant dream that reminded her of her youth when she wasn’t in charge of the homestead.
The dragon flew across the sky, leaving thin dark streaks as it nibbled on the dream. When it spotted her, it dove at her and landed in front of her. The large, terribly torn wings and the black body and those eyes, those smoky eyes almost made her run. She had learned to expect it, but the giant dragon in front of her still made her shiver with a touch of fear.
“Avess, I was wondering,” she started. “I wondered if you’d ever return.”
The dragon extended his wings wide. Holes and shredded membranes allowed the sky to shine through.
“My curse compels me to return. You’re in grave danger. The Drakku are in a mortal struggle, and your father, the slayer and companion of Etain, is on a dark path.”
“What about my father? How did you know my mother’s name?” She stepped toward the dragon, anger growing within her.
“Etain is a powerful dragon. She rules over the Drakku.”
“You lie! My mother was taken by dragons! She’s not one of you!”
Avess pulled his massive head back and inhaled. “I cannot lie about the truth. She lives, and she’s a mighty dragon. Search yourself. You know something’s different. My curse…my curse compels me to seek halflings. Without the Blood Stone, most humans cannot see me. You are a halfling.”
“No!” she screamed. “It can’t be! I am not one of you! I am not dragon-kind. Never! You lie, dragon!”
“No longer a dragon am I. My soul, imprisoned in the gem, will forever roam the dreams of halflings. If the gem falls into the hands of men, evil will descend upon the land. It must not be allowed.”
“No longer a dragon? What are you?” Alushia asked. She didn’t believe the thing. It shared one lie after another.
“Nightwraith,” it whispered. “I am a Nightwraith, cursed to feed on the dreams of halflings. Their delicate taste is intoxicating and alluring. The difficulty comes when I must stop, and stop I will. If I devour it all, your mind will no longer be yours.”
Alushia laughed. This fearsome beast no longer scared her. It was a liar; a creature of evil spreading false words. To what end, she didn’t know.
“Take your lies and leave. I’m done with you.”
Avess roared, the ground shaking. “I can devour you and turn you! Heed my warning! Man must not possess that gem. Your father must not succeed. Stop him. Do what you can to end this folly.”
“I won’t do anything for your kind.” Alushia turned and walked away, Avess flapped his wings behind her and shot into the sky.
Before he left her dream, he flew by low and close to her. “I will stop him. The son of Etain will not succeed. His anger will not prevail.”
“Son? Leave me, liar! Your words mean nothing to me!”
Avess roared and flew away, tremendous black streaks cutting across the sky.
When Alushia woke, her head pounded and a sickening sensation came over her.
What if he’s telling the truth? she thought.
CHAPTER
Nineteen
Lailoken’s head cleared and he broke camp the next day. The slayers hurried to pack their belongings before heading up the mountain.
“Look, there!” Ori called, pointing at the cave opening in the mountain above them.
“Might this be the place? Are we on Opaline Mountain?” Lailoken asked. It wasn’t Dragonfire Peak, but maybe it was the mountain they sought. The slayers were giddy with anticipation. Driano huffed.
It took a couple hours for them to scale the mountain and land on the ledge in front of the large open cavern ahead of them.
“In here we might find the enemy. Be prepared for anything,” Lailoken said. He’d pulled his sword from its scabbard on his back and slowly crept inwards. “Darlonn, get a torch ready. The darkness is not our friend.”
The sound of flint and steel was followed by the crackle of flame as Darlonn ill
uminated the cavern, the flickering light exposing what lay hidden inside.
“Sir, let me lead. I’ve explored many caves in my time. They can be treacherous and our lives depend on careful movements,” Ori said. Pleased at his initiative, Lailoken waved him to the head of the group. Darlonn followed, lighting the way.
“It stinks in here,” Jor said. “What is that?”
“Mold? Rotten meat? Both?” Tozgan replied. Lailoken sniffed the air. The staleness was apparent, but so was the rotten scent Tozgan tried to place. Maybe they were in a dragon’s lair. If they were lucky, they’d find the Blood Stone, though Lailoken didn’t know how they’d find such a treasure in the dark cave. He didn’t even know what exactly he was looking for.
“The path ahead splits into three,” Driano said.
“Which one do we choose?” Jor asked.
Ori walked to the opening of each path and listened.
“We go this way,” he said at last, pointing to the center path. The middle passage was narrower and Lailoken wondered if he had chosen the wrong one but deferred to Ori’s instinct.
“We go that way, then,” Lailoken said, a look of relief on Ori’s face as he affirmed the man’s guidance.
Ori led them in the cave, the walls closing in around them until there was barely enough room for them to walk upright. They had to bend over slightly, their packs scraping against the roof of the cave.
“Are you sure it’s this way? We can barely fit. How’s a dragon supposed to do the same?” Tozgan asked.
“And that stench is only getting worse,” Jor said.
“I’m sure it’s this way. My instincts are rarely wrong,” Ori replied.
The tunnel narrowed even further until Ori shouted.
“We’re here! Look at this!” The slayers ahead of Lailoken were standing upright in a large open chamber with a pool of dank water on the far end. The ledge along the right side was covered in bones and half-eaten elk bodies, some of the blood still fresh. The walls were blackened as though scorched by flame.
“We’ve made it to the dragon’s lair!” Ori shouted, his voice echoing in the chamber.
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