The Emerald Rider (Book Four of the Dragoneer Saga)

by M. R. Mathias

  Crimzon wondered what this one sensed about him. If it was looking through the eyes of the sea cows, it was seeing—

  He couldn’t wonder anymore, for two tentacles were reaching for him. He knew he couldn’t let them grab him because the bulk of the blobby, under-beaked thing would eat a few chunks before he could get away. What he needed to do was find the thing’s eyes.

  He pushed himself up to fly to a higher perch, but the effort resulted in nothing but pain and anger. He held back a roar of frustration, but only until one of the tentacles came close. He could see its bulk, half in, half out of the water, and backed tightly against the cavern wall.

  The octerror had eight tentacles, he knew. He couldn’t defend himself against even half of them at once. Inside of its reach was where he needed to be. It was the only place he had a chance against such a thing.

  He leapt, right over the closing tentacle, seventy feet, and landed with his claws ankle-deep in the sloshing sea. He nearly landed on the suddenly alarmed beast. Steam exploded around him as he roared out and bathed the sea monster with his dragon fire.

  In the stark illumination he saw its cold black eyes and knew the bright flames were hurting them. He managed to char to stiffness the point where two of the tentacles connected.

  The sea cows, startled first by his leap, then by his roaring blast of flame, went mad with their warning calls. Crimzon was grateful, for the sudden mass of alarmed mental signals left the octerror momentarily stunned.

  It was a devastating attack, but not enough to end the thing. As Crimzon drew a second breath, the octerror brought more of its tentacles to bear. It was using three of them to keep itself anchored and now the remaining three to swat and smash at Crimzon.

  He ducked and dodged and was pummeled backward into the water. In half a second his lower legs and the stalk of his tail were wrapped. He thrashed and shook but couldn’t get loose. He finished drawing air and then blasted his flames downward over the gripping tentacles, knowing that his scales kept him from burning himself. He cooked one of them, and the other withdrew, leaving him falling into the rocks.

  Crimzon landed hard. Several of his huge rib bones took most of the impact. One of them broke from it, and though it wasn’t a debilitating injury, it left him unable to fill his lungs at will.

  He had to jump away, back to an elevated perch and gather himself. This was a formidable foe. It could kill him. Right now it was thrashing about in pain, trying to cool its burns in the sea water, but this wasn’t over.

  Once he was situated, Crimzon cast a minor spell of healing on his rib. He also surrounded himself with wards that rendered his psionic mind unreachable. Just for good measure, and a bit of a distraction, he formed a ball of fire in his front claws and slung it at the bulk of the sea monster. Then he drew in the deepest breath he could manage and leapt back down to finish the battle.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Underneath her calm and steady demeanor Zahrellion was a frantic mess. She was going mad. Her heart was so torn between the joy of motherhood, the nagging want for Jenka, and now fear for the safety of her son, that she was falling into a state of despair.

  They’d just arrived at Clover’s castle, and she found that no place should feel more like home than here. It was here she and Jenka had first made love. They’d conceived Jericho here. It was from here that the Dragoneers eventually triumphed over the druids and the freakish alien thing that had ensorcelled them. It was here she’d given birth to Jericho.

  Empty, the place was like a tomb for sweet memories. Lemmy was here, and several of the ogres who helped tend the territory surrounding the protective field, but without the Dragoneers it wasn’t quite home.

  She gave Crystal instructions to return to Three Forks, where men were waiting to load her down with a larger harness rig so she could bring the things and few people Zahrellion needed to keep Jenka’s kingdom from falling apart. And now that her wyrm was winging away she really started feeling alone.

  Jericho, the one light in all the darkness and uncertainty, saved her with a giggling chirp from his crib. He would be hungry soon, and she was weaning him. There were peaches, lots of peaches, all gifted to them by some orchard owners. It seems the ogres the boys killed had been ravaging their trees for some time.

  Zah was also furious that someone was bold enough to try to steal her son. She had a strong feeling that Richard was behind it somehow. He was the only person alive who was threatened by Jericho’s existence. She understood that whoever raised Jericho was molding the future of the kingdom, so she tried to keep her ill emotions from showing as she put him to her breast.

  When the baby was finished feeding, she put the crib just inside the door to Clover’s private library. She then started going through the drawings and documents scattered there just to pass the time. There were several sketches of the Sarax, and Zah couldn’t help but wonder if there were more of them in other parts of the world. She also found a sketch of Vax Noffa as a boy. She wondered what it was like for him being raised by a legendary dragon rider. She wondered what it was like for Aikira being raised by him. Like Vax, Jericho might be forced to live without the joy of a dragon bond. It pained her to think so, for the only two things that rivaled the love she felt for Crystal were her love for her son, and her love for Jenka.

  Before long, she grew tired and took Jericho to the room she and Jenka shared. There the two of them slept, softly and soundly.

  ***

  Lemmy was out gesturing with the ogres, telling them of happenings that concerned their kind. He told them they needed to round up the remaining ogres tainted by druid magic and end them. He warned they should do this before men started thinking they were all savage. Two of the ogres nodded understanding and loped off to spread the message, while the others just shook their heads in disgust. Then one of the younger males came forth and indicated that he wanted Lemmy to follow him. Of course, Lemmy did so.

  They went down toward the cavern where the alien’s craft was buried, but they didn’t stop there. The ogre led Lemmy through that valley and up the far ridge. It was quick going as both of them moved through the mountains with animalistic grace. The ogre’s dexterity was born from its strength and instinct; Lemmy’s athleticism was born in the elven half of him.

  Before long they were coming to another cavern, a smaller one that once housed a bear but was now the home of some younger ogres, probably including this one.

  Once they were at the opening, a witchy-looking woman stepped out of the darkness. It wasn’t the witch who had attacked in Three Forks, but by the markings on her robe, she was clearly one from the same coven.

  Lemmy drew his sword and made to dart away but found two other witches closing in on him from behind. He spun, slicing a complete circle. He even jabbed the blade out at one of them but only got the tip tangled in an empty robe. Then a jolt hit him and his sword came free, but he was falling to the rocks. The blade clattered away and stopped, leaving a pristine ring hanging in the air.

  When he moved his eyes upward, he saw himself standing there. The witch had transformed herself to look like him. Just like the one binding him with rope had made herself look like an ogre. He tried to struggle, but he was under some sort of spell that suppressed his ability to think clearly. His only thought was that he had to protect Jericho and warn Zah, but even that idea began to cloud and slip away from him. Then he was in a daze. A happy cheer settled over him and he found he had never been more content to stare at a cavern wall.

  A day later, when a pair of dark wolves came sniffing around, they found him. Lemmy couldn’t help but giggle with delight as they tore him apart and ate him.

  ***

  Zahrellion woke to find Lemmy standing at the door. He was watching Jericho, as if the child fascinated him. This wasn’t strange to her, because elves had a terribly slow reproductive rate. Children, childhood, and the whole birthing process were cherished. With Lemmy being half-elven, Zahrellion wasn’t sure he could even reproduce. Od
dly, this made her giggle, for the girls who attended her would be disappointed to learn such a thing. They all stared dreamily at him when they saw him. Every single one of them would have loved to bear his child.

  The baby was standing in the crib now, using the side rails to keep himself upright, and Lemmy started over to protect him from the fall that was surely to come.

  “He has to learn to fall down, too, Lem.” She smiled, startling him. Apparently Lemmy hadn’t known she was awake and eyeing him. He shook his head, as if waking from a dream.

  For the fleetest of moments she felt fear for her son, but it passed when Crystal’s roar echoed around the valley outside.

  “Come, Jericho, Lemmy.” She grabbed the baby into her arms and brushed past his golden-haired protector. “Let us see who and what actually made the journey.”

  Zahrellion was pleased that one of the brawny cooks and two of the braver girls had come. There were things to do to make the place suitable for raising Jericho, and having help would make it all the easier. What she didn’t understand was the sour look on Lemmy’s face as he took in the new arrivals.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Do you know where they gather and plan?” Rikky asked Linux hopefully. It was Rolph’s unshaven mug before him, but he never knew Rolph, so it was easier for him to think of the person wholly as Linux now.

  “Oh, were it so easy, lad,” Herald chimed in.

  They were gathered in a huddle around a small blue druid’s fire out beyond the city. A light drizzle was coming down. It was cold enough to see each other’s breath, but not unbearable with the flames there to warm them.

  I will feed, Silva told Rikky.

  He nodded his response and she leapt into the darkening sky.

  “They are secretive.” Linux shrugged his shoulders. “And they aren’t all as powerful as their leader. I would like to know from where she came, and how she gained her power, for it is considerable. I wonder was she a Hazeltine who rebelled, or just a pot wizard who chanced upon something powerful? The Chronicles of Derralin tell us that—”

  “Bah! Enough with the druid speak,” Herald barked. “What are you telling me?”

  Linux looked at Rikky and chuckled. “I am saying that, if we get the leader, the rest will dissolve—uh—dissipate—uh—go away.”

  “I know what dissolve means, man,” Herald grumbled. Then he looked up at Rikky, as if an idea had struck him. “All you need to catch a fish is bait and a basket.” He looked at Linux now, who suddenly appeared uneasy. “They want to get rid of all you druidoos. They’ll come for you, I’m sure of it. We can catch them, if we set a trap.”

  Linux looked at Rikky. Rikky narrowed his brows in a way that told Linux he agreed with the old ranger. “It’s a good way for you to prove your loyalty.”

  “I guess it is,” Linux nodded. “But how many know I am in this skin?”

  “I’m not sure it will be enough to prove anything,” Herald said. “You could easily have been sent here by Richard to take our measure. And if me and some men I know parade you through the city proclaiming that we have the king’s absconded druidoo, they’ll chance an attempt. That’s when Rikky and his wyrm’ll come swoopin’ in and end ‘em!” Herald grinned, as if it was a perfect plan.

  Linux’s tone was sarcastic when he spoke. “I planned on being in the streets of Mainsted at the perfect moment to meet you then, did I?”

  “He couldn’t have planned that, Herald,” said Rikky. “He saw us and took a chance.”

  “Bah! He is a druid and could have pocussed himself right where we were, or some such. I don’t know.”

  Rikky nodded, indicating that he wouldn’t trust Linux so easily, and Herald let it go.

  “Tell me you have food.” This from Linux, who looked very hungry at that moment.

  “We do.” Rikky started to get up, but Linux went for the pack, saving Rikky from trying to stand with only one leg. Rikky couldn’t forget the kindness and help Linux had given him after he’d lost his leg, but this was a different person. This was a different body anyway, with the soul of one who would end an innocent’s life so he could cheat death.

  “Herald’s plan needs work,” Linux said, his words still drenched in sarcasm.

  “That was really a plan?” Rikky asked Herald, who reddened into a look that Rikky couldn’t quite figure out.

  After a meal of cheese, hard bread, and dried beef, Linux and Rikky whispered over Herald’s snoring and started making a more intricate plan to catch the witch.

  ***

  Crimzon twisted out of the octerror’s tentacle and then spun on the rocks, catching the swinging appendage in his powerful jaws. The sea monster swung back around, lifting the giant dragon from his hind legs, but Crimzon didn’t let go. Instead, he swung his bulk the other way and shook his head in a savage manner. The tentacle was nearly severed between his teeth, and he was forced to let go. He landed in the sloshing surf, and his heat sent steam billowing up around him. He darted one way, then changed direction in a disturbingly sinuous fashion that bewildered the thing just long enough. Crimzon came out of his own steam like a striking serpent and managed to blast a huge gout of fiery breath directly into one of the creature’s eyes.

  The octerror swung around again, its limp appendages following the motion like waterlogged ropes. Two of its four still-functioning tentacles latched onto rocks in a wide stance and the other two reached out for Crimzon in a closing motion that was sudden enough to block his instinctual leap for escape.

  The big red wyrm did leap but didn’t miss the wrapping tentacle that came around. His bulk carried him over onto the monster’s soft, squishy bulk, and half of the cavern was splattered with a gushing squirt of dark, inky fluid.

  In the illumination thrown by a lightning strike, Crimzon saw that the water had turned from scarlet to black. He felt himself being squeezed and knew that if he didn’t draw in a breath he wouldn’t be able to char his way out of the position he was in.

  Now the thing was trying to squeeze out from under him and get its sharp beak through his scales and into his flesh. Wriggling and roaring, scratching and clawing as best as he could, Crimzon fought for enough room to get air into him. He fought with all he had. He managed a little and then spent it burning the limb that had hold of him.

  The grip loosened and he gathered more breath. This time, as he let it loose, the thing squeezed even harder and brought its remaining free tentacle to bear.

  Crimzon blasted at it, and blistered it raw, but the creature was determined. It shook the dragon and then started using its other tentacles to pull itself out of the cavern. Crimzon was being crushed. He had to clear his mind to cast a spell before he lost consciousness. When he finally finished his casting, his skin flashed white hot. The octerror let go of him. It was scalded by a pulse of energy hot enough to melt some of the rocks around them.

  Crimzon’s scales boiled the water, and he let out a savage roar.

  The octerror had backed against the cavern wall and looked like it only wanted to flee now. It was scorched, sporting several deep, seeping burns. Crimzon circled around the thing, allowing it the opening, and as it slid back into the storm-raged sea he felt, more than saw, what was happening behind him.

  Another octerror, half again as big as the one he’d just maimed, was there feeding on the smoldering sea-life available.

  It stopped stuffing the fat, white, blubbery seal flesh into its ship’s-bow-sized beak when it sensed Crimzon’s gaze, but it didn’t stop feeding. Secured in place by three of its tentacles, it kept feeding with most of them, but then absently swatted Crimzon against the wall with another.

  The dragon impacted so hard he wasn’t sure he would recover from the blow. It didn’t matter, though. Already several more tentacles were wrapping around him. He roared out into the ethereal, but it was a feeble attempt. He craned his neck this way and that, trying to sink his teeth into something, but it never had the chance to happen. Another tentacle wrapped his head. His jaws
slammed shut as it cinched down and squeezed him. Before long he couldn’t even draw breath. He laughed inside, then, realizing that of all the deaths he had imagined over the centuries, he had never dreamed of being eaten by a creature of the sea.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Why won’t you transform for me?” Xerrin Fyl asked for the umpteenth time. “Did my grandfather leave a ward dangling over this place or something? If you only helped me finish his journey, I would let you loose.”

  “Are you talking to yourself?” Jenka’s voice was hoarse, and he felt groggy at best, but the wizard had been talking for a long while, and he was tired of listening.

  “You are conscious? Yes? Good.” He gave a slight nod before continuing. He looked more curious than anything. “I am Xerrin Fyl, High Priest and Keeper of the Fyloch. Why didn’t you turn into your dragon form and break away from us?”

  “Because I am not a dragon.”

  Xerrin Fyl didn’t like that response. He took a long stride and planted his hard, pointed boot tip soundly into Jenka’s crotch. It was a debilitating blow. Jenka tried to back away but wrist and ankle manacles kept him from getting anywhere.

  “You are a dragon,” the young wizard snarled. “Only one of dragon blood could have passed through the second door and entered our arena.” He put his hands behind his back and started pacing back and forth as he spoke. He wasn’t old, but he had a definite aura of formidability about him. “The draconic glow of your eyes is all the proof I need. You are a green wyrm. Some of my men saw you in the sky the day before you came into grandfather’s temple. Fishermen saw you flying overhead the day before that.”

  Jenka tried to sink into the Dour then. He found it was like sinking into an empty well of blackness. The cell must have been warded, or maybe the chains. He tried to reach out for Jade, too, but the lack of connection served only to dishearten him. He’d been in a dungeon before. He knew he was at this fool’s mercy. If he wanted to see Zahrellion and his child, he would have to think his way through.