Dragon Bones And Tombstones (Book 2) (10 page)

CHAPTER 20

Finnius stood inside a large circular stone chamber filled with many strange devices: cutting tools, bottles, knives, tables laden with power jars and odd glass contraptions. Shackles and chains lined the walls, but no person hung there now. He imagined men had, not so long ago. It was just another strange place, one of the many secrets beneath the Temple of Barnabus.

“This is it, Finnius,” Selene the High Priestess said. “My special chamber of horrors.”

Finnius swallowed. Despite his evil nature, a wave of concern for his own personal safety settled in.

“It’s alright, Finnius. I wouldn’t have brought you down here if I didn’t want you alive. If I wanted you dead or tormented, my guards would have done that.” She smiled, creepy, yet beautiful. “And as you can see, business has been slow for a while. Now, come. I’ve something to share.”

He followed, now more honored than scared. Selene stood before a vat, rectangular in shape, big enough for the frame of a man, a large one at that. Inside it, a thick waxy liquid bubbled, a little red, a little orange, a little blue, all swirling together. It looked like a boiling cauldron, but it did not burn hot.

“Blood. Dragon blood,” she said.

Finnius the cleric had never seen so much before.

“Well, dragon blood, and many other ingredients, but years of magic worked in and something else.”

Finnius’s mouth was dry, but his fascination got the better of him.

“What else?”

“Dragon teeth, bones, scales and talons infused with another body.”

“A man?”

“In some cases. See for yourself.” Selene pulled her sleeve up over her elbow and reached inside the bubbling cauldron. Her lips twitched and curled as an ancient arcane language came forth. All of the strange waters stirred before draining into the husk within. She released a small lever on the inside of the tub.

A man, or something like a man with a dragon-like face, lay within, eyes closed. 

Finnius looked at her, then back at the figure in the vat.

She said, “A soldier. A creation of my own. I call it a Draykis: Part dragon. Part dead. Part hunter. Do you like him?”

“Fascinating.”

“Awaken!” Selene said.

The Draykis's eyes snapped open. They were yellow and slit like a snake's. It rose up and stepped out of the vat. A variety of dragon scales glittered all over its body. Whoever it was, was human once, now turned into a dragon abomination. A defiance of the laws of nature. A hulking man combined with the finer parts of a dragon. A work of arcane art come to life.

Finnius admired it, a lot.

“He’s magnificent,” he said, stepping forward and back. “Tell me more, High Priestess.”

She stroked the arm of the Draykis and said, “In the case of this one, it’s a man fused with the parts and blood of a dragon. He has the unrelenting strength of a zombie, combined with the armor and weapons of a dragon. The mind of a man keeps it all working together along with all the mystic spells.”

Finnius held his finger up and asked, “You said, ‘one’?”

She patted him on the cheek and said, “Clever, Finnius, very good.”

She clapped her hands together.

Four figures leapt from a concealed ledge above and landed on the ground.

Oh my!

Finnuis stepped closer to Selene as four more Draykis approached. They were awesome things: cloaked, with hoods drawn back revealing the scales and sharp teeth on their faces. Each moved with ease, but their stout frames suggested power, like the lizard men, but more agile and cunning. Finnius wondered how much they could think for themselves.

“They are at my command, but soon they will be yours to command, Finnius.”

“It would be an honor, High Priestess.” He was wringing his hands. Anything that gave him power felt good. “Are we to hunt more dragons?”

“No, you are to hunt Nath Dragon.”

Finnius rubbed his hand over his skull. He’d tried taking the man down with lizard men before and hadn't fared too well. But these Draykis he was confident would do better.

“I see a hint of worry in your eye, Finnius. If you are not up to this…”

“Nay, High Priestess. I’m honored. With this brood, I cannot fail.”

“Don’t be so sure, Finnius. But, the Draykis will be well armed. And you’ll be taking more than enough reinforcements,  They’ll be of great help. Questions?”

“Just one, High Priestess,” he offered a smile. “Do you want him alive, or do you want him dead?”

CHAPTER 21

I was covered in darkness. Suffocating. I could barely move my arms and legs under all the weight. I’d faced death before. Fought my enemies. Beat them with cunning and steel. But now I was in the fight of my life against the elements. My foe was vast and undeterred. The very earth itself. I tried to scream again, but the dirt choked off my words. I had undone myself.

I thought of my father. I wondered how long it would take him to realize that I was gone forever. Even worse, I had failed him altogether. I would die of shame. Without honor. Failing my charge.

NO!

I could not let that happen. I had to hang on. I just had to! I took one last gasp and counted.

One… Five… Eleven… Twenty… Thirty… Sixty… It seemed this was it. None could save me. My face must be turning purple now.
Good bye, Nalzambor.

“WAKE UP!”

I wasn’t sure if I heard that or not.

“WAKE UP!”

I felt myself being pulled from my grave.

“NATH! BREATHE!”

I could hear.

“BREATHE!”

It was Brenwar. Or someone that sounded very much like him.

“This ought to help,” he said, putting the weight of the world on my chest.

“ULP! URK!”

I felt that. Hunks of dirt flew from my mouth as I spat, rolling back and forth on the ground. I coughed and hacked until my face became numb.

I’m ALIVE!
 

I managed to wipe the dirt from my eyes. The sunlight was, well, like sunlight on my face, but it never felt so good before. The next thing, I saw Brenwar, his bulging arm outstretched, helping me to my feet.

“I hope you found what you were looking for,” he said. “And I think we're even. Well, I’m pretty sure I’m still ahead, that is.”

I shook the dirt out of my hair. Fang was still in his sheath. Thank goodness I had not lost him. I slung my pack from my back and reached inside. The orb was still secure.

“Well, if I’d died I would have expected you to use this to free the Blue Razor.” I managed a smile. “Thank you, Brenwar.”

“Ah, it’s nothing.”

He stepped back as I opened my arms wide. “Stop that, Dragon. I said stop—”

I picked Brenwar up off his feet, hugged him like a bear, and swung him around. I felt joy. The joy of being alive. The joy of being able to fight for the cause of good once more. Being an adventurer, a hero, someone that does right instead of wrong doesn’t mean you won’t be put in the thick of danger. If anything, you’ll find yourself in the middle.

“PUT ME DOWN, NATH DRAGON!”

I dropped him.

“Sorry. I couldn’t contain myself.”

“You ever do that again,” he shook his fist at me, “and I’ll kill you myself.”

“I know. But right now, I’m so happy to be alive I don’t care. Here.” I extended my arm.

We bumped forearms, inside then out. “Better?”

“Better.”

I held out the stone, letting Brenwar take a closer look.

“What do you think?”

“Dwarven made. Definitely.”

I shook my head. But I wasn’t going to disagree with the person who just saved my life. I’d do that later. 

“Seems we have plenty of time to make it back, but I still don’t understand why Corzan didn’t think he could handle that. A magic user, even one not so powerful, should have been able to outwit a horde of ghouls. And the trap? A well prepared magic user could handle that as well. Not much of a guardian, if you ask me. At least not to protect a Thunderstone.”

Brenwar stretched his short limbs and yawned.

“What? I was paralyzed, you know.”

“How’s the wound?” I said, looking at the ghoul's bite.

“Wound? That’s not a wound,” Brenwar scoffed. “Now let’s get going down the mountain. I’ve had enough of these ghouls, tombs and fluffy caterpillars.”

I raked the dirt from my hair and dusted off my clothes. I must look terrible.

“Say, where’d all the caterpillars go? They usually stick around for hours.”

“Who cares?” Brenwar said, stomping away.

Not a blotch of pink, blue, yellow or purple remained. I actually enjoyed watching them walk around on their tiny little feet. But their job was far from over. The ghouls lay dead, some covered, some not. The caterpillars never left their work until it was finished, unless there was danger.

“Brenwar … something’s wrong.”

I could feel the hair on my chin tingling when a black shadow blotted out the entire sun. A heavy wind stirred about me.

“You got that right,” Brenwar said, eyes up, jaw down.

WHUMP! WHUMP! WHUMP! WOMP!

Oh no! There it was. Big. Monster big. Perhaps this was the Guardian Corzan spoke about. Clearly, it was not something he could deal with.

“That’s one big dragon,” Brenwar said.

The dragon blotted out the sun as it loomed over us like a gargantuan bird of prey. His steel scales were like hammered metal. His nostrils flared with open fire. His claws were bigger and sharper than the deadliest spears. His horns, one broken, were as long as me. His tail was like a great serpent, swishing back and forth, shattering tombstones like twigs. Perhaps this was what I'd seen in the moonlight the night before. It had been so distant then.

I backed away. He snorted. His hot breath was like a furnace, his eyes, ancient as the stones, bore down on me like I was an insect as he approached. My father was far bigger, but I was used to him. This dragon was bigger than most I encountered. Much bigger. Bigger than rhinos, elephants or a team of horses.

I drew my blade and swung it in front of me.

The dragon didn’t blink.

I was scared.

“Nath,” Brenwar said, “what do we do?”

I didn’t have an answer to that question. In most cases, I rescued dragons; I didn’t confront them. Even in my youth, the dragons avoided me, both inside and outside the Mountain of Doom, or Dragon Home. It was lonely. That much I easily remembered. Being born of dragons but still not one of them. Oh, I still had dragon friends, not many―and family, too many―but over time, we’d gone our separate ways. I’d even had dragon teachers, too, but none of them prepared me for this. Not even my father, I think.

I raised my arm up.

His teeth snapped together in a clashing chomp that could have taken my arm off.

I moved away, but he cut off my path with a massive head that swung from one side to the other. I wasn’t going anywhere. Not if he didn’t want me to, that is.

“Just stay back, Brenwar. I’m not sure if he’s for or against us.”

I usually was big, fast, and strong, but not with this one. Right now, I was little more than a meal, shiny toothpick included. I mustered my courage, or what was left, anyway. The truth was I wanted to run for it, but instead I locked with his gaze.

Inside, I was trembling like a leaf. Before me, a Steel Dragon. A fighter. A warrior. A soldier. I could tell by the scars on his body and the tears in his wings. A remnant of the Great Dragon Wars, he had to be. Yet there was another remarkable thing. The markings. Bright spots, green, orange and yellow mixed with blue adorned his frame, aglow with what looked to be arcane symbols. I’d never seen a dragon marked in such a way before. Perhaps he was enslaved, or cursed.

Arms up, sword pointed down, I displayed the sign of surrender, trying to back away. I wasn’t about to strike if he didn’t strike first. I felt his tongue whip past my cheek then back again.

“What do you want me to do, Dragon?” Brenwar said, tucked behind a tombstone.

“Be still!”

I stopped. I couldn’t just back down. All I needed to do was get back off this mountain. He came closer, massive head inches from my face, his hot breath ruffling my auburn hair. I opened my mouth to speak. He bumped me with his snout, knocking to the ground like a toddler. I was in trouble now. He pinned me to the ground with his nose.

“Dragon!”

“Be still, Brenwar!”

Now, I could stab the dragon, maybe put out his eye or scar his nose. They didn’t like to be hit in the nose or poked in the eye, for that matter. But, that tends to make one mad. And I’ve told you before about dragon breath. Small dragons don't hold so much, but a big Steel Dragon like this? Well, it could turn the entire mountaintop to flame. I put my dragon hand on the top of his nose.

“Peace and Home,” I said.

You may have been wondering whether or not I can speak Dragon. After all, I am a dragon, and I should be able to speak Dragonese
―and I can. But, just because I can speak to them, doesn’t mean they will speak to me. I was a very talkative and lonely boy growing up, but sometimes a speaking dragon gave me more than I wanted. When they did talk, it might take hours or days. And right now I didn’t have time for a long conversation. But, I said it again, in Dragonese, anyway.

“Peace and Home.”

He snorted hot smoke, keeping the pressure on my chest.

Now it was time to worry, not that I wasn’t already. Dragons were like most people: sometimes it was very difficult to tell if they were good or evil. This dragon, so far, was not giving me the friendly vibes that I was hoping for. The more pressure and uncertainty rose within me, the more I wanted to strike. For all I knew, his mind was battle damaged. His connection to his own kind lost. His eyes were heavy upon me. Any wrong moves and he was going to incinerate me. I tried to keep perfectly still.

“Peace and Home.”

Who are you? 

He spoke. It was a jolt, rocking my mind.  Not vocal … mental. This was good.

“The Son of Dragon Home,” I said.

You are a man, but you smell like a dragon. Another wizard come to deceive me!

It pushed me across the grass.

“No! Not a wizard, a dragon! Son of Halz—”

Whack!
The dragon reared up on his legs with a roar so loud it shook the very mountain top.

“Brenwar!” I yelled. “Why did you hit him for!”

The dragon filled his lungs with a big gust of air, and all I could think was
RUN
!