Legends of the Lurker Box Set

by Richard H. Stephens

  Lurker accompanied Reecah to the edge of the cliff fronting the field around the cabin; following her gaze over the rugged terrain to where the land abutted the glimmering ocean many leagues away. “Where’re you going?”

  The question threw Reecah. “Are you not coming with me?”

  Silence and Swoop joined them—all three dragons avoiding her hazel eyes.

  “What? I thought we agreed? We need to convince the high king that his mandate to eradicate dragonkind is not an acceptable solution to settling our differences.” She paused, staring at each of them individually. They refused to meet her gaze.

  She grasped Lurker by the chin, forcing him to look at her. “You can’t be serious. I need you.”

  A sadness came through in his voice. “I’m sorry, Reecah. We’ve struggled with this. Dragon Home is our colony. We can’t abandon it in its darkest hour.”

  “But…but…” Reecah searched the faces of the others. They nodded, confirming Lurker’s words. “There’s nothing there for you but death. Dragon Home is destroyed. Everyone is dead.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “Silence went back and scouted the area.” She turned to implore the purple dragon. “You said no one was left alive.”

  Silence bowed her head.

  Reecah returned her attention to Lurker. “If you go back, you risk being killed yourself…”

  She spun to face the drop-off. “Damn it!”

  She had promised herself not to cry anymore. She must be strong if she wanted to face the high king. Wiping her cheeks, she turned back to her friends. “It would kill me if something happened to you.”

  “We feel the same way about you, pretty Reecah. Nevertheless, we cannot leave our home. Besides, our presence will likely hinder you. You won’t make it anywhere near the castle with us at your side.”

  “Then I’m going back to Dragon Home with you.”

  Lurker glanced at his dragonkind, shaking his head. “That we cannot allow. You’re the last Windwalker. Grimclaw pledged Draakclaw Colony’s allegiance to you. We forbid your return to the killing zone.”

  Reecah didn’t want to vent her frustration on her companions but she had no one else. Sounding off at Raver wouldn’t be nearly the same. Lifting her chin, she straightened her shoulders and tried to cast them a stern look. “If you’re supposed to obey me, then I command that you take me with you.”

  As soon as she said it, she hated herself. Who was she to order anyone, let alone three dragons who had lost everything? She, of all people, knew what that was like.

  “I’m sorry. That was wrong of me. I won’t order you to do anything you don’t want. Please forgive me.”

  “You’re a Windwalker. Of course we’ll do as you command,” Swoop said, looking at the other two, who nodded. “But we respectfully ask you not to come. If Grimclaw’s death is to mean anything, you must go to your king and plead our case before there aren’t any dragons left in the world.”

  The dragon faces blurred before her. Her tears flowed freely but she didn’t care. Let them exhaust themselves so that she could move on. Unable to speak past the lump in her throat, she kept her eyes on the ground at her feet.

  A soft breeze wafted up the mountainside, ruffling her cloak and blowing her brown hair in front of her face. A hawk’s call echoed off the peak.

  Lurker nuzzled his face against her stomach, almost sending her stumbling over the brink. “Remember what you said to Silence in Dragon Home?”

  Reecah shook her head. She couldn’t think beyond the moment.

  “We’ll always be here for you. No matter what happens.” Lurker nuzzled his snout beneath her left breast. “As long as you feel us here, we’ll always be together.”

  His words gave her goosebumps. He’d remembered. Those were words spoken by Poppa a lifetime ago. Instead of pacifying her, it made her cry harder.

  Shoulders shaking, she smiled and laughed through her tears, half spitting as she spoke. “Oh, great. Now look what you’ve done. Come here.”

  She wrapped her arms around Lurker’s head and held him close. Eyeing Silence and Swoop on either side, she motioned for them to lean closer. Arms stretched wide, she included them in the embrace.

  “I pledge to you with my last breath, today marks the end of silence. From this day forth, the Great Kingdom shall know we will no longer suffer the people’s prejudice.”

  She sniffled loudly and squeezed their heads together. “I will never forget you.”

  She kissed Lurker’s cheek and laid her head against the top of his nose. “Especially you, my dear friend. Thank you for allowing me into your circle of trust.”

  “Circle of trust! Circle of trust!” Raver landed on top of one of Lurker’s horns, surprisingly gripping it the first time with his mangled toes.

  Reecah looked up at the crazy bird and laughed, her heart warming despite the fact it had just broken.

  Thunderhead Thievery

  If only the haters from Fishmonger Bay could see her soaring high above the Niad Ocean—her hair blowing around and a great smile on her face.

  Wispy clouds moistened her skin as Lurker flew Reecah on his shoulders. The coast unfolded far below on its way to the ocean port of Thunderhead—the sprawling city, a black smear of humanity in the distance.

  Boats and ships of all sizes appeared like little toys, dotting an expanse of blue water stretching to the horizon on their right. Swoop and Silence kept pace a wingbeat behind to either side.

  Reecah made a mental note to ensure her hair was tightly braided if she ever had the occasion to fly a dragon again, but if it was up to her, this moment would never end. She had been mocked and picked on as a child for her fantastical notion of flying the skies, and yet, here she was, experiencing a dream of a lifetime—all her cares and worries forgotten. She savoured every moment, trying not to think of what awaited her at the end of the flight. If things went according to plan, she would have to part ways with the dragons and seek an ocean-going brig to take her to the high king’s palace, far to the north.

  The flight was over much too fast. Given the uprising over the summer with regard to the dragons, she refused to fly them into harm’s way. She released Lurker’s neck with one hand and pointed. “See that cove?”

  “The second last one before the fjord?”

  “Yes. Land me there. I doubt the people of Thunderhead are as used to dragons as Fishmonger Bay. Your presence will frighten them. I’d rather not start off on the wrong foot. Enough people hate me.”

  “I pity anyone who feels that way. A truer friend they’ll never find.”

  “Aww.” She leaned into his neck and hugged him. “Thank you. The same goes for you three.”

  Raver squawked in the distance, barely visible above the waves.

  Reecah laughed, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that the raven was able to communicate through the dragons. “Yes, of course, you mangy bird. How could I ever get by without my noisy featherbrain? You and I have been through a lot together.”

  Raver cawed again, barely audible above the wind in her face.

  Lurker laughed. “He says you’d better not forget it.”

  Reecah’s brief happiness fell away as Lurker tilted his wings and the ground rushed up to meet them. Far too soon, they were on a remote beach saying goodbye.

  Reecah didn’t care that she cried. There were times when tears were justified and this was one of them. Reluctantly sliding from Lurker’s shoulders, she stepped back, her lower lip trembling. “I feel like I’ll never see you again.”

  Lurker nuzzled his head against her side, his fangs clicking off her sword belt. “Of course, you will. When you return with the king’s decree.”

  Reecah wrapped her arms around his head, unafraid of his deadly jaws, and rested her cheek beneath his eyes. “Be careful, okay? Don’t let anything happen to you.”

  Swoop and Silence drifted overhead, keeping watch.

  “I don’t know if I can do this without you. What
if I get into trouble? Grimclaw said the king had my parents killed. If he recognizes me, it might not go well.” Reecah pulled her head back to stare into Lurker’s eyes. “What about the black knights? If they return to the castle, they’ll recognize me for sure.”

  “You’ll have to be careful and keep away from them. They are soldiers in the king’s army. I doubt they’re part of his inner circle.” Lurker smiled. “Besides, you possess the journal and both Dragon Eye gems. I don’t know for certain, but they must possess a significance to a Windwalker. Perhaps they have something to do with the spell Grimclaw placed in the back of your journal. To summon me in time of need.”

  She forced a smile. “Great. Now all I need to do is learn how to decipher the strange runes and become a real witch!”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Grimelda believed in you. So did my father. Trust me when I say that Grimclaw never trusted anyone. For him to bow down to you has got to mean something. It’s up to you to figure out why.”

  Swoop interrupted, “Boat coming. You better say good-bye.”

  Reecah spied the brown dragon drifting above the waves to the north. Swallowing her emotions, she located Silence gliding above a hillside to the east. Waving at both of them, she held the side of Lurker’s face in her hands and kissed him between the eyes.

  Raver strutted about the sandy shore, absently pecking at things washed up by the tide. His head perked up and he flew to land on one of the leather vambraces Reecah wore on her forearms.

  “Protect Reecah with your life, Raver. Now, off you go.”

  Raver bobbed his head. “Off you go! Off you go!”

  Reecah covered her face, turning away from the sand storm Lurker’s departure created. Blinking rapidly in a futile attempt to clear her vision, she watched until the dragons were nothing more than specks against the clouds.

  Reecah’s anxiety rose as she climbed the last rocky spur jutting into the Niad Ocean north of Thunderhead. Built into the black stone comprising the shoreline, Thunderhead sprawled southward like a living beast, undulating on rolling hills before tracking a great fjord inland—the inlet’s southern banks too sheer to inhabit.

  Her breath caught. The entirety of Fishmonger Bay would fit into the cluster of buildings at the base of the hill she stood on. Wharves and jetties of varying lengths and states of disrepair extended into the surf all the way to the fjord. If she had anywhere else to go, she would have gladly surrendered to her fear of meeting new people and left the city behind.

  Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Raver perched in the gnarly branches of a sickly tree. “Well, I guess this is it.”

  Raver blinked at her.

  “Come on. Stay close.”

  Using her quarterstaff as a walking stick, she located a path leading down the hill between a tangle of ramshackle buildings that lined either side of a muddy road winding to the seaside.

  Raver landed on a sagging rooftop where the road veered to follow the coast. Reecah feared his weight might cause the derelict building to collapse.

  Chickens and geese announced their arrival, clucking and honking as they waddled out of her path. A rooster crowed from behind a dead tree, his call picked up by another across the street.

  Reecah did her best not to stare at the grimy faces of malnourished children—barely dressed and sitting in the mud, or peering out from broken doorways. She forced a smile and said hello from time to time but no one returned her greeting.

  Reecah wondered if the people of Fishmonger Bay had sent word ahead of her imminent arrival. She admonished herself. No one had any idea where she had gone. For all she knew, Jaxon and his father were still searching for her in Dragonfang Pass.

  Her last image of Jaxon made her smile despite her mood—his head snapping back on the end of her boot.

  “You find this funny, eh?”

  Reecah blinked. Someone had spoken.

  A skinny woman, bent at the waist, her unkempt, black hair and young face belying an aged appearance. She glared at Reecah from the threshold of a leaning hovel.

  Trying not to show her revulsion of the stench escaping the haggard woman’s hut, Reecah stopped. “I’m sorry?”

  “You should be. Parading about the slums in all your finery as if you’re the cat’s pride.” The woman pointed a broken-nailed finger at her. “Get yourself back amongst yer own kind, ya trollop, and leave us simple folk alone.”

  “Look, lady, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I came in from Fishmonger Bay.” Reecah grimaced. She hadn’t planned on telling people where she was from, and yet, she blabbed it to the first person she met.

  The woman’s brows crunched together. “Ah, I see. Fancy britches and a liar. A purty thing like you living up there, ha! Ain’t nothing but ‘ardship up that way. Yer looking much too fine to be coming from dragon country.” The woman hocked and spat, her eyes narrowing. “You’re one of the girls working up in the taverns if’n I have the right of it. Be gone with ya, an’ leave our men alone.”

  Reecah swallowed, unsure how to respond, not sure what the woman insinuated. Giving herself a quick once over, she frowned. This was the first time she’d ever been accused of being in all of her ‘finery’.

  Hoping not to appear rude she nodded. “I will, ma’am. I mean I won’t…I-I mean, good day.”

  Her cheeks flamed hot as she picked her way between the mud puddles.

  A rabid looking dog charged at her from between two buildings, slavering and barking. Startled, Reecah side-stepped and held her quarterstaff out to intercept it, but a frayed rope prevented the crazed animal from reaching her. Judging by the condition of the rope, it wouldn’t be long before the situation changed.

  Forgetting her wish to keep her boots dry and her clothes from being splattered with muck, she high-stepped down the street and around the bend.

  Raver took to the sky, leading her down the coastal roadway. Warehouses fronted the oceanside on her right, while rundown buildings were crammed together on her left—each building appearing to keep the next one from falling over.

  Through the gaps between the warehouses, fishermen tended nets and unloaded the morning’s catch. Every time a grizzled tar caught her eye, she shuddered. They reminded her of Jonas Waverunner, the head fisherman back home. The man responsible for much of the pain in her life.

  Passing by a knot of bare-chested young men in breeks and ratty leather caps, she avoided eye contact but couldn’t escape their lewd catcalls and whistles as she purposely hugged the far side of the street. As soon as she was by them, she picked up her pace and hazarded a glance over her shoulder. Their eyes tracked her, but thankfully they did not.

  It didn’t take long to second guess her decision to visit Thunderhead. Other than for the presence of the Waverunners and that weasel, Viper, who Lurker had disposed of, she felt less comfortable in Thunderhead than she had back home.

  Raver cawed from farther down the street. Uneven cobblestones replaced the muddy street—a surface she had only seen depicted in Poppa’s books. Raver sat on the arm of what looked like a bare, iron tree with a single branch at its top. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be an elaborate, outdoor lantern holder. Another thing she had never seen before.

  Walking along the street lined sporadically with the lantern trees, it was like she had entered a different city from that of the hovels.

  Larger warehouses lined the coast, their piers more substantial and housing boats grander than the traditional fishing skiffs she knew.

  On the landward side of the street, buildings rose two stories high with straight walls and roofs appearing capable of sustaining their own weight. She stumbled several times on the uneven roadway—her concentration on everything but where she placed her feet.

  Cabins and larger buildings rose up behind those lining the street, climbing the hillside as far as she could see. Plumes of smoke wafted skyward, bending inland on the ocean breeze.

  The street pavers smoothed out long before the road turned
sharply to the east, following the mouth of the fjord inland. People clad in all types of clothing, from elegant dresses to well-appointed men in pristine breeches that disappeared into polished, knee-high boots, filled the streets.

  Reecah recalled fine clothes like these in the mercantile back home, but few people in Fishmonger Bay had the occasion to wear them, let alone the funds to purchase them. The exception being the Father Cloth and the Waverunner family.

  Wondering whether an ample busted woman had forgotten to throw a tunic over her underclothes, Reecah was shocked when the blonde-haired woman spoke to her.

  “Oh, look what we have here. The baron’s funds must be running low for him to be hiring girly fighters to protect his city.”

  Reecah kept her eyes down, pretending not to hear the woman with the tightly cinched waist.

  “Appears he’s to be hiring rude ones at that.”

  A strong hand latched onto Reecah’s rucksack and pulled her off-balance.

  “Hey!” Reecah tried to pull away but a large stomached man with a thin, curly mustachio and triple chin hung on tight.

  “My lady’s talking to you, miss. Best you be showing her the respect her station deserves.”

  Reecah glared at the man, but gathered herself to smile demurely at the woman who couldn’t have been much older than herself. Though Reecah had never travelled beyond the mountains surrounding Fishmonger Bay, she knew enough to recognize a person of stature. Her gaze didn’t miss the bejewelled hilt of the rapier protruding from beneath the man’s black surcoat. “My apologies, m’lady. I mustn’t have heard you.”

  “Let her go, Clive.” The lady stepped up to her, giving her a thorough going over; her gaze resting on Reecah’s filthy rucksack. “You aren’t dressed like a Thunderhead militiaman. You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “No, m’lady.”

  “Then you’re a mercenary, no? Hired to help rid the area of the flying beasts.”

  “Flying beasts?”