Dragons and Mages: A Limited Edition Anthology

by Pauline Creeden

  “You need nerves of steel to be in our profession,” Mrs. Becker declared. “Brad, are you getting this? I want to blow it up later and study them.”

  “I understand that,” Violet replied, “but maybe we should at least let someone know where we are.”

  “She has a point, dear,” Mr. Becker said. “If something happened, I doubt anyone would look up here.”

  “We can get a few pictures at the mouth of the cave and head back if it makes you feel better,” Jasper said. “There are plenty of days to return.”

  “Let’s see what we are dealing with and then we can decide,” Liz Becker suggested. “I’m not going back without at least that.”

  “Watch your step,” Jasper said. “It’s a bit steep. By the way the rock is cut, I think these used to be steps.”

  “You could be right.” Mr. Becker patted his pocket, phone safely tucked away inside. Even with no cellular service, it still had its uses—being less bulky than taking a full-sized camera along.

  Violet’s fingers gripped jagged edges in the rock wall beside her for leverage. A layer of clay residue covered scratches and cuts as they formed. She paused on the next landing, one hand shielding her eyes as she looked out over the skyline in a moment of déjàvu. “It seems so familiar,” she muttered, turning. “One, two, three.” Each number was a pace. She knew exactly how far the entrance to the first cave was: eighteen.

  One hand reached out, gently caressing the face of a dragon carved deeply into the rock—mouth open—flames spewing out. On the other side of the opening were diagrams of men with sparks and bolts of electricity coming from their hands.

  “What do you think this means?” Violet asked.

  “A fight of some sort, maybe,” Mr. Becker suggested, taking a video of the find. “A war?”

  “That’s what I thought, too,” Jasper admitted.

  “Except there are no dragons.” Violet switched sides, carefully studying each of the faces.

  “There were creatures similar in prehistoric times,” Mrs. Becker commented. “These pictographs were interpretations from the times. We know there were winged creatures that soared the skies. They could easily have resembled what we think of as a dragon.”

  “And did they breathe fire, too?” Violet asked.

  “Highly unlikely,” Mrs. Becker said. “It could simply be decorative, too. Many clans had their own superstitions about beasts. This could be how they interpreted something bad happening in their lives.”

  “That would explain the fire versus lightning scenario,” Jasper agreed. “But what could have happened?”

  “Is it possible one of these mountains was once an active volcano?” Mr. Becker asked. “The beast with flames coming out of its mouth has been known to represent an eruption before.”

  “You should take a look inside,” Jasper suggested. “The theme changes to a celebration.”

  Violet slapped a flashlight against her palm twice before turning it on. “Habit,” she explained before anyone could question the unusual ritual.

  “Wait,” Mr. Becker ordered. “There could be bats or other animals inside there. We need to proceed with caution.”

  “According to our driver,” Violet replied, ignoring the warning, “there aren’t any animals on the property.”

  “No animals?!” Mrs. Becker repeated with a sour face. “That’s absurd. No one can stop nature from happening.”

  “She’s right, actually,” Jasper agreed. “I’ve never thought about it before, but I have yet to see even a bird.”

  “That could make things even worse,” Mr. Becker complained, cleaning the lenses of his glasses as if it would help him see in the dark. He followed his prodigy into the mouth of the mountain. “There are very few reasons for animals to flee an area. The awakening of a dormant volcano is one of them.”

  “Wouldn’t we feel much hotter being this close?” Jasper asked. “It is warm, but nothing unusual for this time of year.”

  “Not necessarily,” Mrs. Becker replied. “Animals can sense even the slightest changes.”

  “Over here,” Violet called out, having already gone much farther into the tunnels. Her words echoed from all sides. “These pictures are a celebration of some sort. It seems they found a way to appease the beast.”

  “Yeah,” Mrs. Becker agreed, flashing her own light on a different wall. “This poor girl looks all dressed up with nowhere to go.”

  “A sacrifice?” Jasper asked.

  “Throwing a virgin into a volcano seems a bit cliché, don’t you think?” Violet snorted. Her laughter ended abruptly. She moved forward, allowing the full force of her flashlight to shine on the girl’s face. The features were crudely drawn, but the jewellery wasn’t.

  “What is it?” Jasper asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” He chuckled. “A relative of yours, perhaps?”

  “No idea,” Violet muttered. “I never knew my biological parents.” She snapped a couple of pictures on her phone. “I’ve seen this jewellery somewhere before, or at least a similar style.”

  “Not surprising,” Mrs. Becker said. “That setting shows up quite frequently in places where there is an excavation. It was popular in ancient times. Local sellers make a killing off of it.”

  “That must be it,” Violet muttered, still staring at the picture. “Do you think there are more?” She swivelled, her flashlight moving from one etching to another. “They seem to be equally spaced.”

  “Yes,” Mr. Becker agreed. “It could be they are showing a story. The space in between them represents a time frame. How much farther in have you gone?”

  “There’s a split in the path a few hundred feet from here,” Jasper explained. “It goes from one to many very quickly. I never figured out which one I wanted to follow.”

  “If that’s the case we’ll need a lot more gear and people,” Mr. Becker suggested, scratching his head.

  “All we have is our teams,” Jasper said, lips pursed tightly together. “You can ask Uncle to bring in more help, but I doubt he’ll listen. He isn’t big on letting strangers onto the property. I was surprised he called you.”

  “So where does that leave us?” Violet asked.

  “With a whole lot of work,” Mrs. Becker replied, hands planted firmly on her hips. “It’s doable. We’ll take one path at a time until we’ve explored them all. Any chance we could set up a base camp here?”

  “I’m not sure you’d want to sleep out here,” Jasper answered. “It can get quite frigid overnight.”

  “There are tents that can handle the cold,” Mrs. Becker chuckled.

  “And sleeping bags,” Mr. Becker added. “You’ve already said there are no animals to worry about. It makes perfect sense we camp out.”

  Jasper shook his head. “I’ll put in a good word with my uncle, but in the end, it is up to him.”

  “Then we better make it a good presentation,” Mrs. Becker suggested. “Brad, get a few angles of every picture, symbol, or scratch. We’ll show Mr. Drachen it’s worth going farther.”

  “I doubt you’ll have an issue convincing him of that,” Jasper snickered. “It’s the staying up here that he might not agree to.”

  “If he doesn’t want more workers on his land, we need to cut the hours down somehow,” Mrs. Becker said. “Travelling back and forth everyday is one way we can. We’ll time the trip back so we have numbers to crunch as well.”

  “All right,” Jasper agreed, shrugging his shoulders in defeat, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you. My uncle is a stubborn man.” He glanced at his watch. “Speaking of which, we need to start heading back. They’ll be locking things up for the night soon.”

  Violet turned, a form of puzzlement plastered to her face. “Are there no ways outside after closing up?” she asked.

  “None,” Jasper replied. “Why, planning on making a break for it? It won’t work. Trust me, you won’t get far.”

  “No,” Violet replied, not amused in the least at his words. “I saw someone running ab
out from my window last night.”

  Jasper bit his bottom lip, turning it from pink to white. “That’s not possible. Are you sure it was after the staff left?”

  “Yes,” Violet blurted out. “It wasn’t until after we examined the pots in the sitting room. The staff left while we were still eating.”

  “I’ll have someone double check the security,” Jasper said, forcing a smile. “I wouldn’t worry about it. It could have been your mind playing tricks on you.”

  “I suppose,” Violet agreed. Forcing the issue wasn’t going to help. Neither Jasper nor his uncle was telling her the whole story. If she wanted answers, she needed to find them for herself.

  Chapter 19

  A grandfather clock struck four the moment the door shut behind them—dinnertime. Violet made a dash for the stairs—a wash and fresh clothes foremost on her mind. Dirt under her nails and dust in her hair wasn’t the proper way to show up for dinner in any country.

  “Where are you going?” Ms. Straust asked, grabbing her by the crook of the arm. “I told you dinner is at four o'clock. No one is to be late.”

  “You also said we should dress properly,” Violet complained. “It’ll take me five minutes to change and wash up.”

  “No time,” Mrs. Straust stated, pulling her into the dinning room. “The master is already waiting.”

  Bordwell Drachen was indeed sitting at the table alone, swirling wine in a jewel-encrusted chalice. That begged to question where her two friends had gotten to. Riding lessons shouldn’t have lasted that long.

  “Ah, I see you have found my guests,” Bordwell said, taking a drink. The liquid stained his lips, turning them a slightly darker shade of red with each sip. “Please have a seat. We are already running a bit behind schedule.”

  Violet bit her bottom lip, thinking twice about asking to take her leave for a quick hand wash. Unfortunately, her nerve had already dismissed itself. Instead, she took a seat as far from her host as she could.

  “I trust everything went well today,” Bordwell said, his voice indicating he required an answer.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Becker replied. “I’m glad you asked. We have some exciting news to share...”

  Bordwell held up one hand. “No business at the dinner table. There is plenty of time to talk after we eat. I think you’ll be pleased with this evening’s menu. The cooks have spared no expense in bring you their finest creations.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Mrs. Becker replied, trying to keep her enthusiastic smile from faltering.

  “Are we missing some of your team?” Bordwell asked.

  “They are on their way,” Remi announced, joining the others at the table. “The ladies are a bit stiff and quite sore. Riding for the first time isn’t easy on soft tushes.” He chuckled. “They’ll be walking in a most peculiar manner for a few days.”

  “Thanks for sharing,” Carla complained, waddling over to take the seat beside her instructor. “I’ll be happy to rest tomorrow and recuperate.”

  “No can do,” Remi snickered. “You have lessons to finish. It’s my duty to make you rodeo worthy by the end of the week.”

  “Are you all right, Heather?” Violet asked, watching her friend eye a chair without sitting in it.

  One hand on the back, Heather pulled the seat out. “I can’t sit,” she whined. “It hurts. Can I stand and eat?”

  “Absolutely not,” Ms. Straust answered. “You can stand the rest of the evening if you like, but at dinner we sit.”

  “This isn’t what I expected,” Heather complained, wrinkling her brow. She bit her bottom lip. Eyes closed tightly. Slowly she descended, teeth grinding as pressure was applied to her tender backside.

  “See,” Ms. Straust chuckled, “that wasn’t so bad.” She clapped her hands, summoning another woman to bang on the gong. “Dinner is served.”

  Several employees carried dishes into the room, setting the platters on the table. “Six courses of fish,” the head cook announced, bowing. “I hope you enjoy.”

  Bordwell rubbed his hands together. “Fish make wonderful food, don’t you agree? I’ve been asking my chefs to come up with a unique meal just for this occasion. This is it!” His eyes widened. “Appetizers, main course, side dishes, and desserts are all made using a variety of different sea creatures for the main ingredient.”

  “Dessert?” Carla asked, nose turning up. “What sort of dessert can be made from fish?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” Bordwell chuckled, patting a silver cloche. “Appetizers first. Caviar, anyone?”

  “That was an amazing dinner.” Bordwell stroked his belly, all the while staring into the raging fire. “I trust you all enjoyed it as much as I. You were all rather quiet.”

  “It’s been a long day,” Remi suggested. “I think we all may be a bit tired.” A crystal glass filled with ice cubes, an amber liquid making them clank against one another. “Perhaps we should call it an early evening.”

  “Good idea,” Bordwell agreed. “But first, I should like to hear the news from the excavation. Was something new found?”

  Mrs. Becker moved to the edge of her chair. “It’s quite exciting! There is so much more to do than we first anticipated.”

  “Do tell, then,” Bordwell insisted. “Don’t leave us in the dark. What is it you think you found?”

  “Jasper found it, actually,” Mr. Becker replied. “A series of caves on one of the mountain passes.”

  “Caves and mountains,” Bordwell said, rolling his eyes. “They go hand in hand, don’t they? It isn’t an unusual find by any means.”

  “This one has pictures in it.” Jasper stole Remi’s drink, forcing his friend to pour a new one. “They seem to be telling a story about war and peace. We can’t be sure until we go farther in, of course.”

  “Farther into the mountain?” Bordwell questioned, brows raised. “Is that safe? I wouldn’t imagine anyone has set foot in there before. If they have, it most likely was centuries ago.”

  “There in lies the problem,” Jasper replied. “We don’t know what fate awaits us in there. It would take more time, at the minimum.”

  “We’d like to make camp near the entrance,” Mrs. Becker blurted out. “That would save time going back and forth every day. We’ll need additional equipment and a few other supplies, as well.”

  “Is this worth our time?” Bordwell asked, one fingernail tapping on his chalice. “Shouldn’t we fully explore one site at a time?”

  “I think you have,” Mr. Becker argued. “Your nephew did a good job finding all the relics on the one spot. We still have to figure out the significance of it all, of course, but that may come with a little digging into folklore.”

  “Are you all of the opinion the best way to proceed is in the cave?” Bordwell asked, exchanging glances with every person in the room. “Very well. I give you a week to explore. If you turn up nothing, it’s back to the clay pots. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” Mrs. Becker exclaimed, clapping her hands. “You won’t be disappointed. I have a feeling we are on the verge of discovering something big.”

  “See that I’m not... disappointed that is,” Bordwell snickered. “Jasper can run into town and pick up your needs in the morning.”

  “What about us?” Heather asked, yawning. “Are we still being trained for the rodeo?”

  “Sorry,” Mrs. Becker replied. “It’s all hands on deck. You can finish your training when the week is over. We need everyone working in the caves. I hope you packed some warm clothes. We are going camping.”

  “Great,” Heather scoffed. “From one hard surface to another. My body is never going to recover.”

  “Suck it up, buttercup,” Mrs. Becker jested. “Archaeology is not the study of five-star hotels. There is no comfy in our line of work.”

  “Mom, give it up.” Carla shook her head, eyes drooping. Normally there would have been much more oomph to her complaint. Today she was too tired to care about anything but bed.

  “First thing in t
he morning then.” Violet made the first move toward the door. “I’m turning in.” She swivelled just before the door. “Perhaps, I could join you in town. I wanted to check a few records at the town hall.”

  “About my land?!” Bordwell stood, eyes bulging. “I absolutely forbid it. I’ll have no one snooping around here.”

  “Actually,” Violet replied. “It’s about my family history. I wanted to look into a report I received from an ancestry kit. I thought there might be something useful in the records.”

  “Oh.” Bordwell plopped back down, the tension gone from his limbs. “I see. That, I suppose, would be acceptable. Just make sure you leave my name out of it.”

  “Of course,” Violet agreed. “Would it be all right if I asked around about the history of the pots? The shopkeepers would think I was looking to buy. I wouldn’t mention finding the ones here.”

  “Yes, of course,” Bordwell agreed, an unlit cigar hanging from his lips precariously as he spoke. “That’s part of the job, isn’t it? I’d expect you to check out all folklore and customs before giving me a final report.”

  “Thank you,” Violet replied. She turned to Jasper. “I’ll see you bright and early, then.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jasper said, offering a flirtatious smile and a wink. “We’ll head out right after breakfast. Sleep well.” He let her take a few steps. “Best stay away from the windows. Those shadows can play tricks on your eyes. I wouldn’t want you to scare yourself.”

  Violet glanced back at him. The smile was gone, replaced by an unnerving grin—one that matched his uncle’s to a T.

  Chapter 20

  It made sense for Jasper to own a pickup truck. It was the dings and rust that made her jaw drop. His uncle was as rich as they came and seemed the type to dote on any member of his family tree. The passenger door squeaked, begging for more than a bit of lubricant.

  Being short didn’t always come in handy. Violet grabbed a strap, pulling herself up and in, barely missing sitting on a few tools. Jasper’s hand snatched them away just time, leaving only a thick layer of duct tape covering parts of the seat. She forced a smile on her face, feet kicking about garbage on the floor.