by Isaac Hooke
The three women nodded in unison.
“Let’s go!” Spurring Bounder to a gallop, he led the way across the open ground until he had pulled behind the hill in question. Felipe rubbed nervously against his collar, its little head exposed, and he scratched the monkey consolingly between the ears.
“So, how did we do?” Gwen asked.
The oraks had traveled just beyond his beast sense, so he relied on Spirit’s sight to give his response. “Nothing has come out of those trees. We weren’t spotted.”
“Maybe they’re sleeping,” Xaxia said. “They are active more at night.”
“We can only wish,” Malem said.
“What I can’t understand is why there are oraks out in the countryside this close to Fallow Gate,” Abigail said. “The city’s patrols should have ferreted them out by now, especially in broad daylight.”
“Maybe they didn’t have time,” Malem said.
“The oraks had to have been here all morning,” Abigail said. “That’s more than enough time. The patrols of Fallow Gate use tiercels and bloodhounds to scout the surrounding hills. They send them out all along the lands bordering the forest here, to hunt monsters that wander outside its limits. Their animals are specifically trained on the scents of those monsters. Not even spiders could take up residence here, not without the patrols finding out and slaying them all. And now there are oraks.”
Gwen wore a sheepish expression. “Uh, what’s a tiercel?”
“Male hawk,” Abigail explained.
“Ah.”
“Well, for whatever reason, these patrols of yours are lax this morning,” he said. “Maybe the Black Sword paid them off.”
“Anything’s possible,” Abigail agreed.
They proceeded in a circumvential fashion around the hill that harbored the oraks, giving it a wide berth, and used the surrounding hills for cover. A few of those shielding hillocks were further away than he would have liked, but he would rather spend an extra hour out here than risk a fight they would probably lose. Still, he was conscious that the dire wolves, and potentially other oraks, might be coming up from the south at any moment, so he didn’t necessarily have unlimited time to dally. With that in mind, he made his way north as best he could, until finally the oraks were behind them.
“The foothills are becoming more common,” Malem announced. “I’m having Spirit fly low to search for any hidden war parties. It’s risky, and I hope to hell she isn’t spotted and shot down.” What he wasn’t telling them was that he was worried he might not detect all the monsters that might be waiting in hiding. Especially if there were more mages down there.
But Spirit didn’t find anything, and they continued the rest of the way to Fallow Gate without issue.
It was evening when Malem announced their arrival. “I can see the city walls in the distance, via Spirit.” He frowned.
“Is something wrong?” Abigail said.
When he didn’t answer, Xaxia spoke into the silence: “That was a little less than the two days the signage proclaimed. I’ve always thought someone should go and rewrite all the time calculations on the signs throughout the realm. You know, to take into account the modern horseshoe.”
“It looks like there’s an army of some kind encamped outside the city walls,” Malem said. “I’m having Spirit fly higher, so she can get closer. If she gets too low, they’ll definitely shoot her down to help fill their cooking pots.”
But then he saw something that terrified him.
“I’m recalling Spirit,” he said.
“Why, what’s wrong?” Abigail pressed.
“The city is under siege,” he said.
“Well, that explains why there are oraks roaming the nearby countryside,” Xaxia commented.
“Yes,” Malem agreed.
“That’s fine, we’ll just avoid the city,” Abigail said. “Fallow Gate sometimes involves itself in border disputes with the neighboring realms. They’ve been besieged a few times in the past. It’s nothing to worry about.”
“Except in this case, the besiegers are not part of any human army,” he said. “The ranks brim with the bronze pikes of oraks. And there are black dragons assaulting the walls, breathing acid breath that’s melting right through the stone, and the bodies of any defenders on it.”
Felipe squeaked, and ducked underneath his collar.
“Black Dragons?” Gwen said, her voice sounding similar in pitch to the monkey’s. “Are they Metal?”
“No,” Abigail said. “Metal Dragons never stray beyond the boundaries of their territory. A black is a Night Dragon. Along with the grays, they are wicked and arcane, capable of dark magic akin to the black mages, but much more powerful.”
“Wonderful,” Gwen said.
“They’re not restricted to dark magic, either,” Abigail continued. “Some blacks have strong affinities to other disciplines—earth and ice for example. Though they are among the minority.”
“Reassuring,” Gwen commented.
“Well, at least you don’t want to rush into battle against these dragons,” Xaxia told the half gobling. “There’s hope for you yet.”
Gwen lifted her hood over her head and folded her arms, as if suddenly cold. “I’m not a big fan of dying.”
“So these dragons could paralyze us, just like the black orak mage did?” he asked Abigail.
“If they got close enough, yes,” Abigail said. “Their particular paralyze magic works slightly differently than that of the mages, though. For it to work, you’d have to look them directly in the eye.”
“So don’t look at them in the eyes, you’re saying.”
“Not when you’re close,” Abigail agreed.
He paused a moment longer, and then announced: “We detour west immediately.”
“Wait, what do you mean, we’re still heading to the mountains beyond?” Xaxia asked.
“That’s right,” he said. “We’ll turn north after several miles, when the city is well behind us.”
Xaxia turned her horse around. “I only said I was coming to Fallow Gate.”
Malem glanced back the way they had come. “Are you sure you want to go back that way alone? With dire wolves and orak war bands still on the loose? Things could go very wrong for you if you’re caught unaware... at least I have a chance of detecting any ambushers well in advance. But you, what do you have?”
“My wits!” Xaxia said.
Abigail snickered, and covered her mouth. “Sorry.”
Xaxia glowered at her before returning her attention to Malem. “Damn you. Let’s go then and be done with this! And you.” She rounded on Abigail. “I expect some sort of reward when this is through!”
Before Abigail could deny her, Xaxia was already spurring her steed away to the west.
Malem glanced at Abigail. “You know, she probably deserves one...”
“I’ll think about it,” the fire mage said.
Malem raced Bounder after Xaxia and caught up. Gwen and Abigail followed just behind.
He recalled Spirit.
They wound their way through the different foothills, staying in the hollows. He kept scanning in every direction with his beast sense, looking for traps. When Spirit arrived, she circled forward and backward overhead, as per her usual search pattern.
During one of those wide circles, Spirit issued an alarm.
“We have a black dragon approaching from the east,” Malem said.
“Just one?” Abigail asked.
“Only one,” he replied.
Abigail rubbed her chin. “It must have spotted your hawk... dragons do have excellent eyesight. From the air, they can see a bird from at least a mile away. Sometimes more. If the dragon pursued discretely, following the grade and curvature of the terrain, Spirit would have had a hard time noticing.”
“That hawk of yours will be the end of us,” Xaxia commented.
He hardly heard. He was searching the surrounding hills, looking for somewhere, anywhere to hide. But there were no copses of a
ny kind, just the occasional lone tree among the endless rolling hills.
“There should be an abandoned keep somewhere in these hills,” Abigail said. “It was owned by a baron who was a paranoid eccentric in life. He built an extensive underground tunnel system beneath the estate. We might not even need to use those tunnels... the walls of the keep itself will protect us.”
“How?” Malem said. “Stone won’t hold up long against a dragon that breathes acid...”
“As I said, this baron was very paranoid,” the fire mage continued. “All external facing walls of the keep are coated in Duramite.”
“Duramite?” Xaxia said. “That’s expensive as hell.”
“Yes, well, this baron had the resources,” Abigail continued. “He didn’t like having the Metal Dragons so close to his domain and since Duramite can resist all types of dragon breath, he decided to build his keep with it. While the material cannot endure a concentrated dragon attack forever, it will give us time to regroup and come up with a counter-strategy.”
“Until the rest of the army arrives!” Xaxia said.
“Ever the dour one, huh Bandit?” Gwen said.
“No, merely a realist,” Xaxia said. “How do you think I survived so long as a highwaywoman?”
Malem had Spirit moved well ahead of the party, hoping to lead the dragon away. But the big creature didn’t fall for it and continued on its previous course, heading directly toward the mounted party.
At the earliest opportunity Malem swerved north, between two hills, following in Spirit’s wake. Meanwhile, he instructed the hawk to look for Abigail’s fabled keep.
He had Spirit cast backward glances toward the dragon every few moments so that Malem could remain apprised of its position, since he didn’t yet detect it with his beast sense. Maybe he never would.
Because of Spirit’s constant monitoring, Malem knew to look east when the dragon appeared above the crest of a hill near the current horizon; four other hills squatted between the dragon and the party.
The dragon glided forward, and Malem noticed the subtle tightening of its wings as it spotted them for the first time. It suddenly flapped faster, increasing its speed and releasing a stentorian screech that seemed loud even from Malem’s relatively distant position. No doubt the dragon was summoning some of its brethren from the city, along with any nearby orak war parties.
“Go!” Malem spurred Bounder forward at an all-out, panicked gallop. He soon realized he was going too fast—the horses couldn’t keep up. He reduced the speed of the iguanid to match the slower animals.
The dragon was fast approaching. It was only three foothills away now.
Spirit finally found the keep. “The keep is this way!” Malem swerved to the northwest, climbing a tall hillock directly beside him.
The horses followed as fast as they were able. At the top, Bounder was fairly winded, but the horses were in far worse shape: their flanks heaved, and were damp with perspiration
“We’re not going to make the keep,” Malem shouted over the pounding hooves. “You’ll run your horses into the ground!”
“Balius can make it,” Xaxia said.
Vaguely, he realized she had just revealed the name of her horse for the first time. He wasn’t sure why he was noting that... the mind picked up on the most random things during times of extreme stress.
“All of our steeds can!” Abigail said.
“Damn it.” He glanced toward the eastern horizon. He could see the black dragon there, relentlessly heading toward them. Two hills away.
Malem spurred Bounder on. The horses made good time racing down the further side of the hill, which was far less taxing on their fatiguing bodies. But as soon as they hit the hollow below, they began flagging once more.
Those steeds were going to die if he did nothing. And their riders shortly thereafter.
He reached out to the horses and rebroke them, then imparted some of his and Gwen’s stamina to the animals. He included Bounder in that transference.
Gwen gasped, slumping in the saddle. He leaned forward as well, feeling momentarily dizzy, but recovered enough to sit straight. He released the horses from his grip, and that helped.
As the dragon closed to one hill away, he picked it up with his beast sense.
Malem tried to Break it. It was too powerful of course: the tendrils of his will evaporated on contact. It didn’t help matters that he had drained himself by granting stamina to the horses only moments before.
Small gills on either side of the dragon’s neck suddenly glowed a subtle green.
“It’s going to breathe acid!” Abigail said.
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“Scatter!” Malem commanded.
He swerved to the left, while the others turned in random directions. Just in time, too, because the dragon opened its mouth and unleashed a spray of acid on their former positions. The dragon tilted its head, swinging that stream of acid toward Abigail’s fleeing mount. Apparently the dragon had recognized her as a fire mage, and thus as its most capable foe. He wondered if it could sense the magic in her.
The dragon overshot them, and circled around to make another pass. Abigail released a fireball at its tail, but the flames dissipated harmlessly against those scales.
Abigail pressed the fingers of one hand into the rim of the tight collar that wrapped her neck as if struggling to tear it away. When it didn’t budge, she gave up; her forearms ignited and she spun in the saddle instead, unleashing another fireball at the incoming dragon. The big creature glided easily to the side.
Malem had run Bounder partway up a hill but he returned now to the hollow, which was more a gorge formed between two foothills; the walls of the keep awaited tantalizingly ahead. He could see the doors of the outer protective wall: they were bent askew, and barely hanging onto their hinges. Almost inviting them inside.
The other party members fell back into line beside him.
“It’s going to try Paralyze next!” Abigail said. “Nobody look at it!”
Malem averted his gaze and instead watched the dragon via Spirit, who was far enough away to remain unaffected by the paralyze magic. Those malevolent eyes widened, but the dragon quickly realized nobody was paying attention to it.
Via Spirit, Malem saw the breath tell once again, those small gills on the sides of the neck becoming a faint green.
“It breathes, disperse!” he said.
The party members scattered again. The stream of acid struck the empty grass in their wake, and once more curved toward Abigail, who deftly maneuvered Ember out of the way, putting every ounce of the steed’s speed to use.
Malem felt a stir at his collar as Felipe peeked out. The movement reversed itself as the monkey hid inside a moment later, evidently not liking what it saw.
The dragon passed, and began turning its hulking form around for another flyby.
Malem returned to the gorge and hurried Bounder toward the broken gates. He passed through a moment later, the packed dirt giving way to soiled cobblestones, and he led the way inside the ruined grounds.
Shrubs and trees had grown between the cobblestones, and the ground was uneven in several places. He steered between the worst sections, passing the different outbuildings as he headed toward the doors of the main keep. They also sat askew on their hinges. This place had been looted a long time ago, no doubt. Hopefully nothing… untoward… had taken up residence, because those doors were big enough to fit a dragon.
The exterior shone with a brightness that seemed at odds with the overall state of the keep. There were no rust stains of any kind, and it seemed burnished, just as if it had been polished only yesterday. That had to be the Duramite coating Abigail had alluded to, protecting it from the elements.
Bounder took the stairs six at a time and lived up to its name, bounding inside the keep; the others followed shortly thereafter.
They found themselves galloping through a big hall. While the furniture and other fixtures had been looted or decomposed long ago, the tiled floor was
in perfect condition—it had the same bright sheen as the keep’s outer walls.
Ahead, a stairwell led down to a basement level, fronted by a pair of double doors. Those doors had the same sheen as the floor, but were broken open.
A quick scan of the four walls told him that the side corridors would provide no safety. They were as tall as the main entrance—big enough to fit the black dragon.
“For a baron who reportedly didn’t like living in dragon territory, he sure left enough room to welcome their kind into his halls!” Malem exclaimed.
The dragon burst into the main hall behind them.
“Down!” Malem ordered.
The team raced into the stairwell; acid ripped through the air just above them.
Malem led Bounder into the basement opening. He was about to activate his night vision when Abigail created a flaming globe that hovered above the party. It followed Malem and the others inside, illuminating the tight stone corridor. The route was big enough to remain mounted, and ride two abreast, but not so big as to fit the dragon in its entirety.
Behind them, the black dragon tried to shove its head into the opening, and succeeded to a degree, but was unable to open its maw in the tight confines. Malem quickly looked away before the eyes could paralyze him.
He heard a loud scraping, and glancing back he realized the dragon had withdrawn its head, and shoved one of its forelimbs inside instead; loud scraping echoed through the corridor as its claws raked across the floor in an attempt to grab the horse on drag: Neeme. But Gwen moved just beyond reach.
The forearm retracted and green acid assailed the opening instead. Apparently the dragon was trying to enlarge it. The floor stones inside melted away, but the bricks in the doorframe remained intact, coated as they were with Duramite. The limb thrust inside once again, scrambling about in frustration as it searched for its prey.