“Not to worry,” Gar-Dum said, waving his hand dismissively. “I have arranged for a guide to travel with you.”
As if on cue, a stunted, grotesque figure waddled the room. He had an oval-shaped head with a tuft of coarse black hair sitting in a mess on top. He wore a dark green cloak that was thrown back over his shoulders, revealing a thin layer of hair that swept across the majority of the blue-gray skin of his egg-shaped body.
The hair was thickest at his midsection, a large matted triangle completely covering the space between his thighs. In fact, Jinari questioned if it was indeed his own hair, or if it was perhaps fur or a garment of some sort. His bulbous eyes studied Jinari in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.
“A goblin?” Anger flared in Jinari’s voice. Her statue-like stance was broken as she took a half-step forward, her arms coming up.
“Is that a problem?” Gar-Dum asked, raising an eyebrow, still slouched. He took another sip from his chalice, keeping his eyes fixed on Jinari.
Jinari let her arms fall back to her sides and retreated a step. She shrank back and looked to the stone floor. “No, my Lord.” She said sheepishly.
“Good,” Gar-Dum said over his chalice. “This is Uskor. He will be guiding you through the eastern caverns.”
Jinari carefully regarded him and inclined her head slightly.
“He knows exactly where and how to find what we are looking for,” Gar-Dum continued.
Jinari waited a long beat before speaking. “Which is what, my Lord?”
Gar-Dum glanced over at Uskor, wild grin still plastered across his face, then back at Jinari. “Uskor will allow you the details of the mission as they are needed.”
Jinari did not like that one bit. But what was she to do? She could not defy Gar-Dum. “Very well, my Lord.”
“Very well indeed.” Gar-Dum tossed his chalice aside. The muscles in his chest quivered as he moved. “Choose three members from your clan. Make sure they are your best. You will set out with Uskor at daybreak.”
Jinari bowed deeply, then backed away, exiting Gar-Dum’s chambers, a rotten feeling swelling in the core of her stomach.
II.
Jinari waited for Uskor at the camp fire, three of her most trusted Kur-hik clansmates, all female, silently accompanying her. Anessi was older than Jinari, her long mane of silver hair belaying that fact. She wore dark red robes. Around her waist was a fur belt fashioned from a wolf that Anessi had killed herself. On the belt hungadorned with several small leather pouches, each containing some sort of powder or herb used in her magic. She leaned on her staff, which was roughly half a head taller than her, and had runes carved deep all up and down it.
Anessi was a magic user. At one time, her magic was used only for healing, but after joining with the Vulgar-kin, Jinari had utilized her skill more and more for destructive things such as bringing fire down on the enemy in battle, calling a swarm of insects, firing lightning form her staff, conjuring force fields, and so on. Jinari had even asked Anessi to use a death curse on occasion. Jinari knew that the death curse was something that Anessi did not like doing, but she complied with Jinari’s requests nonetheless. She always did.
Jinari sighed. It was simpler times before the war. Before she had made the decision for her clan to join the Vulgar-kin. She could see the fear and confusion in many of their eyes, but all Kur-hik followed her without question. Always. Before the war, there was peace. The Kur-hik clan spent most of their time farming the land, tending to their animals . . . tending to their families. Today, the lands were dry and barren, the animals have died of disease or famine, and most everyone in the clan have lost at least half their family, including Jinari.
Jinari’s own family had included five children with her three male consorts, her eldest two daughters so close to partaking in the rituals of adulthood. Now they were dead. All her children were dead. Slaughtered like animals by a neighboring tribe of humans, the Darhatlor. But Jinari had staged a brutal retribution. She gathered the remains of her Kur-hik and struck down a retaliating blow the very next morning, crushing the surprised Darhatlor.
As she stood over Omarothu, the Darhatlor Chieftain, she asked him why they had attacked her. He coughed blood, and his reply was simply: “Man-kin.” Since then, Jinari has turned the Kur-hik into a tribe of fearsome warriors, joining the Vulgar-kin in a shaky alliance to further her crusade in obliterating the Man-kin—the humans aligned with them, the elves, the dwarves, and whoever else got in the way of her mission of vengeance.
Next to Anessi were Tutia and Kelen, Jinari’s most skilled warriors. Like Jinari, Tutia and Kelen were dressed in a mish-mash of armor and clothing mostly stripped from fallen soldiers in battle. They both looked quite interesting, with the mix of furs and skins, bronze, and rusted steel. Tutia carried a heavy two-handed broadsword, while Kelen had a bow and quiver strapped across her back, and several daggers sheathed around her belt.
The four of them stood silently around the fire, taking in the smell of the damp, burning wood and the crackling sounds. A coarse voice came from behind.
“All ready, I see?”
They all turned in unison to see Uskor, cloak wide open, hands perversely placed on his hips.
“Yes,” Jinari said evenly. “This is Anessi, Tutia, and Kelen.” The three women did not move.
Uskor was all nose and ears as he looked the three of them up and down, taking his time to study their every last feature head to toe. Jinari had no doubt they felt every much as violated by his eyes as she did when he first looked upon her.
“Very well, we shall go then.” Uskor turned to leave, his long ears flapping ever so slightly, and Jinari and her three Kur-hik followed.
The first leg of their journey was made in silence. Uskor walked, Jinari and her Kur-hik followed. Sometimes Uskor used roads or trails, other times he cut directly through a forest or large clearing. It made no difference to Jinari, she and her Kur-hik were accustomed to traveling through all types of terrain, from mountains high to valleys low.
Uskor abruptly stopped at dusk, threw his pack down, and announced they were making camp for the night. He told Jinari to start a fire, then disappeared into the brush.
“Where’s he going?” Tutia asked.
“Who cares, as long as I don’t have to stare at his back any longer,” Kelen said as she began looking around for sticks.
“Or smell him,” Anessi added.
Jinari smiled to herself as she began to help look for wood for the fire. Tutia dug out a small fire pit while the rest managed to gather quite a bit of wood, enough for the night at least. Jinari piled some into the pit and looked at Anessi. Anessi stepped forward, lifted her right hand palm up, and whispered something so soft it was inaudible. She blew into her palm, and black dust swirled in front of her and floated to the fire pit. Fire erupted with a whoosh.
Anessi stepped back and looked at Jinari, who felt Anessi’s eyes burn into her own. Anessi didn’t care for using her magic on such trivial things, things that didn’t really need magic. Jinari looked to the ground. looked away.
The four sat around the fire trading wine skins, bread, and light conversation. “When will we know what it is we are looking for?” Tutia asked.
“Soon enough,” Uskor’s raspy voice came from the shadows as he materialized in front of the fire. He threw three rabbits down at his feet. “I brought dinner.”
The Kur-hik and the goblin sat in silence as they cooked the rabbits. Jinari wanted very much to prod him for information, but waited until he was finished eating.
“This weapon,” Jinari began. “Is it enchanted?”
“In a way,” Uskor replied, holding his gaze into the fire.
“Is it large?” Jinari asked.
Uskor let silence hang for a moment before he replied. “Yes.”
“How are we to destroy it?” Kelen asked.
Uskor lifted his eyes from the fire and looked at Kelen, then to Jinari. He reached into his cloak and pulled out what appeared
to be a flattened rock. He held it up for all to see. It was about the size of Jinari’s hand, and was covered with small, raised bumps. It was deep crimson in color, and occasionally flashed a reflection of the fire, curiously, as it did not appear to be smooth or shiny in any way.
Uskor grunted, and tossed the rock into Jinari’s lap. She picked it up, and immediately had a sinking feeling in her gut. Her head felt light, almost dizzy. Her face felt flush, her fingers and toes began to tingle. She thought she knew what it was, but refused to allow herself to believe. She looked to Anessi, whose eyes were as wide as she’s ever seen them.
“Is this a . . .” Jinari’s voice cracked, and she couldn’t even finish her own sentence.
“A dragon scale,” Uskor said, a proud grin plastered across his misshapen face. He looked around, waiting for the reactions.
“Are you saying we’re looking for a dragon?” Tutia said, a twinge of disbelief in her voice.
Uskor did not answer, instead holding a stare in Jinari’s direction.
“Impossible,” Jinari said, meeting Uskor’s stare. “Dragons haven’t existed for hundreds of years. The last dragons died out with fall of the Migar, during the Age of Winds.”
Jinari remembered when she was a young girl, listening to the elders’ stories of dragons and Ages past. There were stories of heroes such as Yerik the Whitehood riding dragons into battle, defeating armies of giants or trolls in one fell swoop. Giants and trolls, Jinari thought solemnly, the very creatures she had now aligned her clan with.
“It exists,” Uskor said, shooting a quick glance to each that sat around the fire. “I’ve seen it myself. We must destroy it before it is discovered by the Man-kin. They have a ways of controlling it, a way to use it against us in the war. If that were to ever happen, if they had just one dragon in their favor, we would surely be defeated.”
“Control it?” Anessi arched an eyebrow. “How so? Through magic?”
“Not exactly,” Uskor replied.
“Why do we have to kill it?” Kelen inquired. “If it can be controlled why can’t the Vulgar-kin use it?”
Uskor gave her an even look. “Dragons would not trust the Vulgar-kin. Giants, orcs, trolls,” he paused for a beat, “and goblins, among other things, are a dragon’s enemy. Only humans who are pure of heart have been known to ride a dragon. I’ve heard stories of dragons aligning with elves, but as far as I’m concerned they are stories, nothing more. Could we try? Sure, but Gar-Dum would rather not take the risk, since, as it is, we seem to be winning the war at the moment.”
Jinari let out a quiet sigh and studied the red-orange flames of the fire. She had given up so much when she made the decision to join her clan to the Vulgar-kin. It seems she could add her humanity and the respect of her Kur-hik to that list.
“This is wonderful,” Tutia burst in, rising to her feet. “We get to kill a dragon? We’ll be heroes! Legends! They’ll write songs about us!” She threw a fist into the air.
“Uskor, tell us more about the dragon, and how you propose we kill it,” Jinari said.
“Killing it is your job,” Uskor said with an awkward snicker. “Did Gar-Dum not make that clear? But I will offer you more information as you need it. In truth, I am simply your humble guide. I get you in, and get you out, provided you remain in one piece after accomplishing your mission.” He paused and looked around, smiling. “As for the dragon itself, what’s to tell? It’s big, it has wings, its scales are hard as rock, and it breathes fire.”
Silence held. Jinari looked form the fire to Anessi, who was looking at the fire, glanced up at Jinari and held her gaze briefly, then shifted her attention back to the fire. Jinari looked back to Uskor, who was already rolling over and stretching out on the ground. “I’ll take first watch,” she said. “The rest of you get some sleep.”
III.
The next morning Jinari opened her eyes to find everyone else packing up camp in silence. She looked at Uskor, who was standing about twenty paces apart from the rest of the group, looking impatient.
“Are we ready?” Jinari said to her Kur-hik.
“Yes, my lady,” Tutia replied. And their journey continued.
Again, they traveled mostly in silence. Kelen passed around some more bread, and they ate as they walked. Uskor seemed to be walking in erratic patterns, making a sharp left or right turn, but they followed all the same. When the sun was directly overhead, Jinari noticed the ground was becoming moist.
“You’re leading us into a marsh,” she called up to Uskor.
Uskor made no reply. Jinari looked to Anessi, who returned a concerned glance. They continued to follow the goblin. Soon, the grass sloshed under their feet. Not long after that, their feet were immersed in water up to their ankles. Eventually, the cold, murky water nearly reached their knees.
“Uskor, enough of this,” Jinari halted and her companions followed suit. Uskor also stopped, and turned to regard her. “Do you intend for us to swim to the eastern caverns?”
Uskor’s mouth contorted into a crooked sneer. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but before he formed any words there was a shriek at Jinari’s back. As she turned she heard splashing, and saw Kelen struggling to hold her balance. Tutia drew her sword, and Anessi balled her fist, drawing energy within.
“Kelen!” Jinari shouted over the splashes. “What’s got you?” Jinari turned her head back to glance at Uskor, who was hastily climbing up the nearest tree.
“It’s a hand!” Kelen shouted in return. “With claw—”
Before Kelen could finish she was pulled all the way down with a mighty splash. The chilly, dingy water of the marsh sprayed up into everyone’s faces. Everyone except for Uskor, whom was busy getting as high as he could in that tree.
Tutia fished her left hand into the water, her broadsword tightly gripped in her right. She pulled up with a grunt, and Kelen burst out of the water gasping for breath. Jinari heard the muffled sound of Uskor shouting something in the distance. His shouts were muffled by high-pitched hissing and spitting sounds. Jinari’s breath shortened. She whirled around to see four Lizardmen facing her. One was holding a crude wooden spear; the other two simply bore their large talons and swung their thick, spiky tails menacingly behind them.
Jinari looked to Kelen and Tutia, and saw two more Lizardmen stalking near them. That made five in all, and four of them, not including Uskor, who was now about fifteen lengths up in a tree shouting something Jinari could not fully hear.
Kelen pulled her bow and notched an arrow. Jinari slowly pulled out her axe. The Lizardmen drew nearer as they continued with their menacing hissing sounds. Jinari nodded in Anessi’s general direction. Anessi shot her arms straight above her into the air and shouted, “Sangazae!”
In a course of a split second, everything became dark, then was illuminated in a brilliant flash of light. Jinari blinked spots away from her eyes, and saw the three Lizardmen nearest her staggering. The one had dropped his spear, and was bent over with his claws in the water, trying to fish it out. Jinari moved, a cry of defiance singing out as she lunged forward and cocked her axe behind her head. She came down with all her strength and momentum, taking the Lizardman’s head off, and its left arm as well.
Jinari then dropped to one knee with a plunging splash. She brought her axe parallel with the ground and brought her torso around in a fierce twisting motion. Once she had nearly made a full rotation, she released the grip on her axe, allowing it to sail through the air with a mighty hum. Jinari’s axe buried itself deep in the chest of a Lizardman, much to its surprise. The Lizardman staggered back, looked down at his chest, then dropped, dead before he hit the water.
Without even thinking, Jinari shouted again and charged the third Lizardman. The scaly foe staggered back, a little due to fear, but mostly in surprise. Just before Jinari reached him, however, and arrow pierced its neck. The Lizardman reached up to touch the arrow, attempted to make a hissing sound that sounded more like a choking gurgle, and fell to its death. Jinari stood an
d pivoted to look at Kelen and Tutia. Two Lizardmen lay in the waters near them, two arrows protruding from each their bodies. Kelen held her bow at her side, one hand near her quiver, ready to grab another arrow. Tutia’s blade was clean. She resheathed it, looking disappointed.
“Well done! Well done, indeed!” Uskor was already bounding over from the tree he had taken refuge in. He was visibly excited. “You see,” he said as he rejoined the group, struggling to catch his breath, “that dragon should be no problem at all.”
IV.
After the group had emerged from the swamp, they built a fire to get warm and dry. There was not much time to spare, and Uskor kept pushing to move on, so their clothes really only got about half dry. But half dry was far better than soaking wet.
The sun had fallen, and Uskor led with torchlight. Jinari found herself surprised when Uskor announced they had reached the caverns. She expected them to be at the base of a mountain or along a hilltop at the least, but they were in the middle of a forest, not surrounded by mountains but rather the tallest trees she had ever seen.
Uskor beckoned for help as he began clearing foliage. Tutia and Kelen lent a hand, while Jinari and Anessi stood back and watched, both with folded arms. Before long, palms and vines were cleared, and a large, dark opening stood before them. Tutia and Kelen stepped back to fall in line with Jinari and Anessi. Uskor looked back, gave a small grunt, and entered the cavern mouth. Jinari followed, Anessi behind her, then Kelen, with Tutia last.
The light vanished almost immediately, though it did not seem to bother Uskor, who continued along as if everything was perfectly visible. Anessi whispered something to herself, and the top of her staff began to glow with a blue light. It gave off a tremendous amount of light, though there was not much to look at. The cavern walls were reddish brown and damp, streaks of water occasional seeping through a crack or small fissure. There was no sound, save the faint scrapes and shuffling of their feet. Jinari didn’t speak for she did not know how far the sound might carry.
A Dragon and Her Girl Page 17
