Malik the Bard: Legend of the Crystal Dragon

by Scott Moore

  “Don’t try anything funny,” she said.

  Malik had no plans to try anything at all. His body was too sore to even think of escape. He was resolved to do whatever it was Sweet Tongue had planned for them.

  The woman kicked their mount into a trot and soon they joined Sweet Tongue and a few other mercenaries. Khris rode his own horse behind Sweet Tongue. Khris would not make eye contact with Malik, not even when Malik tried staring a hole through the back of his head. On Sweet Tongue’s horseor rather draped behind itwas Egg in a small wooden cage. Zimbre was the last to join them. Zimbre had changed into the gear of the Tempre Warriors, having killed his own brother to achieve that goal. Behind Zimbre on his tall, black mount was Embre. Embre had been changed into new leathers and her hair had been combed out. She had also been crying heavily Malik noticed. Malik gave her a nod, and she turned her eyes down in embarrassment or pity Malik was not sure which.

  “Everyone is gathered and ready,” Sweet Tongue started, looking around at those who stood behind him. Sweet Tongue took a minute to count those who had arrived. “Then on our way we shall be. I think you all will enjoy the show,” he said, looking directly at Malik and then the others.

  Malik felt the chill run through his spine. He was not sure this time if it were the scars on Sweet Tongue’s face that frightened him, or the words he had spoken earlier. Either way Sweet Tongue was a dangerous man who would not hesitate to kill any one of them for no reason.

  Sweet Tongue started at a gallop out toward the nothing that surrounded them. About a quarter mile away from the camp Sweet Tongue came to a complete halt, holding up his fist he stopped the others. Malik wondered if this was where Sweet Tongue killed them.

  Sweet Tongue ordered the others to stay mounted and hopped off his own horse. He walked around to the back and grabbed Egg’s wooden cage. He placed the creature, still in the cage, onto the ground.

  “Remember our deal?” he asked Egg.

  Egg growled, showing his sharp fangs behind his curled lips.

  “You help us, and I will let your friend live,” Sweet Tongue said.

  Malik wondered why Sweet Tongue was talking to Egg like Mollie. Did either of them really believe that this simple creature could understand their words?

  Egg stopped growling and covered his teeth. Sweet Tongue pointed toward Mollie and Egg eased his posture. Then Egg lifted his claw and pointed. Malik knew what Sweet Tongue was doing then. He was using Egg as a compass to guide them on their way. They had not found what they were looking for out here, but they would if Egg guided them, and Egg would guide them if only to save Mollie.

  “Good job,” Sweet Tongue said, putting Egg back onto the back of his horse.

  Sweet Tongue threw himself back into his saddle and kicked off at a gallop. They rode at a run for what felt like forever to Malik’s sore body. The noonday sun rose and trailed back down toward the horizon and then Sweet Tongue slowed again. He repeated the ritual that Malik and the others had done for so many days before. He asked Egg for a direction and Egg obliged, pointing with his extended claw.

  They started off again and Malik’s body protested at every step. Sometime around evening they stopped and Sweet Tongue allowed them a small fire to cook upon. The mercenaries did not bother asking Malik or Mollie if they would enjoy some food, but Khris and Embre were invited to sit around the fire without bonds. Malik and Mollie were tied to a tree back to back. The only words they said to one another were when Mollie promised Malik they would find a way out of this. Malik did not reply. He just closed his eyes and tried to forget everything.

  Sometime during the night, Khris brought them water and some left over scraps of food. Malik was forced to eat from Khris’ hand.

  “I am sorry, I would untie you, but I think they would kill us both,” Khris said.

  Malik figured he was right. It did not make him like it any more than he did, but he at least understood the caution.

  The water and food subsided some of his pains, but many of themdeep in his musclesstayed with him into the morning.

  The next day was much the same as the day before. Sweet Tongue rode them all hard. Malik’s muscles screamed in pain. Egg guided them with a pointing claw. Sometime during the afternoon of the second day, the mountains rose into view in the distance. Malik knew that was where they were ultimately heading. They looked so far away, and Malik did not look forward to their hard press toward them.

  The second night they slept tied to one another. There were no trees around them. The second night Khris did not come to them with food or drink. They shivered in the night air, but Malik drew comfort knowing that Mollie was near him. Mollie reassured him again that they would find a way out of this and they would rescue everyone. Malik tried to believe her, but he knew it was hopeless. Sweet Tongue was not going to let them walk away from this.

  The third day, the mountains rose like towers into the sky. They cast shadows over the entire flat lands they rode across. Sometime during the afternoon, the land changed from dirt to snow and the wind pressed on them with its chill. Malik had not dressed for such extreme weather change and Sweet Tongue showed no inclination to relieve his suffering against the cold. Sweet Tongue had one goal, and that was to get to the relic the old man had told them about.

  As the ground changed into snow, they left the flat plains behind them as well. The new ground they covered was rocky and filled with hills. If Malik had thought that the plains were bad for his aching muscles, then the hills and rocks were like Saint’s Hell. He winced with every hoof fall and even moaned as they turned to gallop across the less rocky hills. Sweet Tongue rode them long into the night with no regard for the horses or the riders. Malik figured he could feel their destination growing closer and was ready to retrieve his prize.

  Malik still had no idea what the relic would do or how Sweet Tongue and the Tempre would use it. The old man had not gone into much detail on the relic’s power. He had just told them of a blight that would sweep across the land. How did that help the Tempre? How would a blight help anyone? Malik was thrown off his horse for the third night and tied again to Mollie. Khris again did not come as the others slept. Malik was too cold to sleep.

  “Are you awake?” Malik asked.

  Mollie stirred behind him.

  “I am freezing,” Mollie answered.

  Malik took a deep breath. He had no comfort or warmth to offer her. He was freezing too. Instead, Malik tried to take their minds off everything.

  His voiced stuttered with the clenching of his jaw and his words were not crisp due to his dry throat, but still he sang to her. It was a small comfort, but it was all Malik had to offer. It did not make her warm, it did not provide them nourishment, but the song provided them hope that even in troubled times they could find something that could not be taken away. When Malik finished, he asked Mollie what she thought would happen at the end of this journey, but she had fallen asleep to his words. Malik let a small chuckle escape from his mouth. He would sit alone in misery for the rest of the night, but at least Mollie had found some small comfort.

  On the fourth day they came to the base of the mountains and rode down them at a slow walk. Even Sweet Tonguewho was anxious to get to where he was goingknew that riding the horses hard in the treacherous rocks would only bring havoc. By that fourth afternoon Egg had guided them to a small cave. Malik knew that this was the cave the old man had talked about in his story. It had been hollowed out by a human or Saint’s hands. It was obvious with the shape and the smooth curves. No natural formation was this precise. Sweet Tongue jumped from his horse at the entrance.

  “We have arrived,” he sounded joyous.

  The joy scared Malik even more than the somber tones Sweet Tongue usually displayed. Sweet Tongue ordered everyone off their mounts and provided his mercenaries with oil lamps from his pack. With them, he guided them to the cave’s entrance.

  “Do not touch anything in this cave,” he said.

  Malik felt a f
lutter in his belly. Even Sweet Tongue feared what they may find in this place. Khris had called the guardian a Crystal Dragon. Did that mean they would find their new home resting in the belly of such a creature? Malik was not given much time ponder their end destination. Sweet Tongue ordered everyone into the cave and the woman guiding Malik gave an extra hard poke to his ribs to get him started.

  Inside, the cave was smooth, just like the entrance. Someone or something had taken a lot of time to smooth out each sharp angle. There were no rocks out of place or jutting edges to catch on.

  Only a few yards into the cave it widened out so much that Malik could not take in the entire room with one glance. To his left it opened to an altar with shrines to the Saints. Small, well preserved statues lined the walls to either side. Someone or something had taken a lot of time to hand carve features into each of the statues. Malik could almost feel the eyes of the Saints watching him as he passed. In the middle of this first room was a fire pit built high with cement blocks and a grate across the top. Sweet Tongue did not stop in the room to explore and he urged everyone forward reminding them to not touch a thing as they passed.

  The next room was even bigger than the first. In this room gold coins, small diamonds, and other expensive trinkets lined the walls.

  “Do not be tempted,” Sweet Tongue told his mercenaries.

  Malik wondered how such treasure had lasted so long without anyone coming to claim it for themselves. There were enough coins and trinkets in this single room to live like a king. They did not make it to the end of the room before Malik received his answer. One of the mercenaries did not abide by Sweet Tongue’s warning. When Malik heard the scream, he turned hoping that no one had hurt Mollie or Embre. It was not them who screamed. It was a scrawny mercenary who had bent to touch one of the sacks of gold coins. His hand was black as coal and his eyes bulged from his skull like he had been attacked by a ghost. His scream did not stop until the black crawled up his arm and into his throat. It was then that his voice went silent, but he did not die. It took another few minutes before the black covered his entire upper half. Sweet Tongue did not a say a word, but he also did not order them forward. He wanted his other mercenaries to see this. He knew that this would be a much better deterrent than his simple words. This treasure was not for the taking. Malik tucked his hands into his pockets. There was no use accidentally scraping up against any loose treasure that surrounded them. No amount of money was worth what had just happened to the young mercenary.

  When the man fell to his death on the ground he exploded into a pile of dark, black ashes. Malik noticed the other piles now that lined the outside edges of the room. There was no wind here to disturb the piles, and Malik noticed them dotting almost every corner near the treasures now. There had been at least two dozen men or women who had tried to take the treasure home with them. He wondered how many more had narrowly left with their lives.

  Sweet Tongue ordered them forward again. He did not bother to tell them again how important it was to keep their hands off the items in the cave. Malik figured they all got it now and no one would be tempted to reach out and grab anything.

  The further they went into the cave, the more Malik expected it to grow too dark to see. That was not the case. The more they moved into the cave; the more things seemed to come to life with color. By the fifth section there were torches across the walls. The fire that burned here did not do so with heat, nor did the flames flicker. They were almost like the lights that one would expect in a fancy inn or a king’s castle. They lit the entire room which was more of a church to the Saints than a cave. Here, Sweet Tongue stopped again and looked over his surroundings.

  “We are getting close,” he said.

  No one answered. Malik wondered if anyone else even knew what it was they had come for. Would Sweet Tongue think it necessary to elaborate on his plans to these men and women?

  Sweet Tongue urged them on after getting his fill of the room. The next room was even bigger and if Malik had thought the second room had been full of coins and treasure, it was nothing compared to what they found here. This room had more wealth than ten kings combined. A man could feed an entire kingdom gold and still have coin left over to throw away.

  Malik tucked his hands deeper into his pockets. He heard the shocked expressions of the mercenaries and even the gasps from Mollie, Embre, and Khris. The only creature not affected by the sight of all the wealth was Egg. Egg had not taken his eyes off Mollie since they had entered the cave.

  Sweet Tongue did not remind anyone to keep their hands to themselves. At this point it was not necessary to warn them. He pressed through the winding piles of gold and came out the other side into a small hallway. Here, he put down Egg who pointed them off toward the left pathway. The hallway widened again, and they found themselves in an empty room. Here, it was still obvious that human or Saint’s hands had carved the room, but there were no items filling the walls. Instead, only a metal grate door blocked a small entrance. Sweet Tongue reached out and gave the door a jerk. It did not move.

  “Come over and help,” Sweet Tongue said to Zimbre.

  Zimbre was a huge man with plenty of muscle to spare. Malik was sure that the door would move if he only gave it a slight tug, but even when he put all of his power into it the bars held steady. Sweet Tongue put Egg down again.

  “Where do we go?” he asked.

  Egg pointed again toward the doorway.

  “It won’t open,” Sweet Tongue argued.

  Egg just pointed again. Malik was not sure if Sweet Tongue expected a detailed answer from Egg, but he would not be getting one.

  Sweet Tongue urged Zimbre to try the door again, but again it did not budge. It did fill the cave with a lot of noise. Noise that Malik had not even realized was missing from their walk through the halls. It had been quiet during their trip; almost too quiet, aside from the gasps at the treasure room.

  Malik knew that caves echoed. He had only been in a few and even then, only in the entrances for shelter from a hard rain shower or storm. But even in the entrances voices and other noises bounced around like a child’s rubber ball. Here there were no echoes. There was nothing but silence.

  Zimbre stopped pulling on the doors again. There was no use. Sweet Tongue looked around trying to figure out another way. There were more paths that they could take, but Egg had pointed them here. If what he needed was on the other side of that grate, he would have to find a way to make the door move.

  He ordered more mercenaries to help Zimbre, but even with their combined might the door did not budge. After an hour or so, Sweet Tongue put his head into his hands and gave out a large sigh.

  Malik would have expected his next words to be a frustrated plea to either Egg or his mercenaries, but the next sound that broke the silence was not Sweet Tongue. It was a roar that echoed through the hall like a building collapsing. The cave walls rattled, and Sweet Tongue took his hands from his head. His eyes were wide with what Malik knew instantly as fear.

  Chapter 34

  The Crystal Dragon

  If Sweet Tongue was scared, then there was every indication that Malik should share in that fear. On the second ground shaking rattle, Malik felt that fear bubble inside him. He had very little left to live for at this point, but he still did not want to die. He looked toward Mollie, trying to find the will to fight free of this situation. They could still make it to the entrance of the cave and get away. In the mountains there may even be a way to hide and escape from Sweet Tongue’s crew of mercenaries.

  Sweet Tongue pulled Mollie’s father’s sword from his back. He had been wearing it since their capture, but it never grew bright inside his hands. It still was a formidable sword, being the size of an average grown man and light as a stick. Sweet Tongue started a chain, as the other mercenaries and Zimbre pulled their weapons from their resting places. They planned to fight the dragon or whatever it was that was heading toward them. They would most likely die, if the creature was as big as it sounded. Then M
alik and the others would be the dessert for the creature after the main course of mercenaries.

  Sweet Tongue stepped back away from the barred door he had been trying to pry open moments before. Whatever was behind that grate had been kept there for a reason. Malik did not hear the roar again before small pebbles started to fall from the ceiling of the cave. The first to hit him was small, the size of a pea, and bounced off his shoulder. The others looked up as well, feeling the small shower of pebbles. The next rock was much larger and came down, crashing into one of the mercenary’s backs. The mercenary went down with a sickening thud. He did not die, but there was no way he was walking out of the cave under his own power. Zimbre stepped forward, shoving his blade into the man’s head and pulling it back, dripping with blood.

  Zimbre looked up. “Mercy,” he said.

  Malik doubted he would have found it mercy had he been the man under the rock, but from the outside looking in, Malik believed Zimbre probably had saved the man a lot of agony. No one replied to Zimbre. No one was brave enough to talk at all. Now they had to watch the falling debris and the metal grated door.

  The lights in the hall fell from their stands but did not wink out. At least Malik had that to be grateful for. He knew the fear would only rise if he could not see the beast coming for him.

  Malik felt a tap on his shoulder it took everything in his power not to scream out.

  “Let’s run,” said Khris from behind him.

  The mercenaries were all transfixed. There was no one watching them now. The four captivesor five if you counted the caged Eggwere the least of Sweet Tongue and his crew’s worries. They were about to meet the guardian of the caves. Hopefully they would be meeting their creator soon after that.