The Balborite Curse (Book 4)

by Kristian Alva

Pinda nodded. “I figured it out. The bounty hunters talked a lot, and they didn’t seem overly worried about us overhearing what they said. They were always planning to kill us, whether Endrell settled his debts or not. They’re bad people, those outlanders.”

  “Start at the beginning, and tell me everything that happened. How did Endrell start smuggling in the first place?”

  Pinda sighed. “We needed money. When my husband found out I was dying, he went crazy trying to find a cure. I begged him to just accept our fate, but he wouldn’t listen. Everyone told him that there wasn’t any hope for me, and we should just enjoy the time we had left. But Endrell kept searching for someone who would give him the answer he wanted. He found some sleazy Shadow Grid mage that promised a cure, but the mage wanted twenty silver crowns to make a healing potion. It may as well have been a hundred crowns—for all we could afford it! Endrell gave up for a while after that, but then, those two bounty hunters came to Starryford, and Endrell talked to them.”

  “Tell me about the outlanders. Don’t leave out any details, no matter how trivial.”

  “When the outlanders first came to Starryford, they rode in flashing empire coin—stomping around like real braggarts. They didn’t hide the fact that they were bounty hunters, and everyone could see the blue tattoos on their necks.”

  “What happened next?” asked Tallin.

  “They snooped around the marina for days, then made a few shady deals to transport some goods. They stayed in town for a fortnight, causing trouble and spending lots of money. Well, Endrell found out about all their money, and he went to see them, begging for work. When my husband came back home that night, he told me that our problems were over. Endrell never told me what he agreed to do—I only found out about the smuggling after the kidnappers took us.”

  “How did they capture you?” asked Tallin.

  “The outlanders came to town in the middle of the night and banged on our door. I refused to open it, but they kicked the door down like it was nothing. Marron tried to defend me, but he’s never fought anyone in his life. They smacked him down fast. Then they tied us up, and took us to Hwīt Rock in a covered wagon. Even though they had our faces covered, I could tell that’s where we were going because of the sounds coming from the dock. There’s a horn at Hwīt Rock they use when the coastline is foggy. I recognized the sound.”

  “Did you overhear them talking after you were captured?”

  “Aye, a lot. I fainted a few times, but I remember most of what they said. Most of the time, they just sat around drinking and telling bawdy jokes, but sometimes they talked about business. They all worked for Druknor. Apparently, their boss is buying gemstones and smuggling them all over the continent. Even the elf queen has purchased a lot of them, or so they said. Druknor skims his profit off the top, keeping the biggest chunk for himself.”

  “Did they mention what Druknor was doing with the money?”

  “No,” she replied. “They did talk about the dwarf clans, though—they had a lot of nasty opinions about them. The dwarves need money fast—they’re hoarding coin in order to finance a war against their rebels, or something like that—I can’t recall all the details.” She rubbed her temples.

  Tallin could tell that she was exhausted, and he decided to cut the interview short. “Thank you, Pinda, that information is very helpful.”

  He looked over at Marron. The boy was still chopping firewood, whistling happily to himself. “Do you think your son remembers anything?”

  She shook her head. “No, I doubt it. The bounty hunters roughed him up pretty good—knocked him unconscious twice. I told him to just stay quiet and pretend to be asleep, so they would leave him alone.”

  Pinda looked off into the distance and then down at her shoes. She twisted her thumb into the fabric of her frayed sweater. “Endrell’s not coming back, is he?” she whispered.

  Tallin felt pity for this woman, but he would not lie to her. “No, Pinda. Despite his noble motives, your husband committed a serious crime. He smuggled kudu oil into Parthos—enough to kill hundreds of people. King Rali takes a dim view of smugglers, and he’s the one who will decide your husband’s sentence.” It was a harsh truth.

  Pinda’s chin trembled. “Endrell only did it to save me.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

  Tallin’s expression revealed what Pinda already knew. “I’m sorry, Pinda… I have no words of comfort for you.” She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

  Tallin walked away, feeling defeated. There was nothing he could do for this poor woman, except offer her a safe place to die.

  He gritted his teeth in helpless frustration. These two people weren’t Druknor’s first victims, nor would they be his last.

  Tallin walked over to Chua and sat down, calling Duskeye and Starclaw over so they could speak privately. They all sat down in a circle on the grass. Tallin kept his voice low. “Chua, do you still have contacts in the Shadow Grid?”

  “A few. Some of the older journeymen remember me. Falenrith leads the southern guild, and I know him well enough.”

  “Good. Could you send Falenrith a messenger? Marron and Pinda have an active bounty on their heads, and I need to take them to a safe house while I figure out what to do about Druknor.”

  “Of course, I would be happy to help, but they’re also welcome to stay here.”

  Tallin’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Are you certain? It isn’t too much of an imposition for you?”

  Chua laughed. “Of course not. I may look frail, but I’m still a capable spellcaster. No harm shall come to them here, as long as they remain within these groves.”

  Tallin hadn’t thought of that possibility. Despite his ill health, Chua had lived independently for years. He managed well enough on his own. “Whatever you wish, Chua. I’ll defer to your judgment.”

  “Where will you go now?” he asked.

  “I’m going to the Highport Mountains.”

  “The rebel dwarf colony?”

  “Yes, and I’ll be going alone. Duskeye, I want you to fly me to the Orvasse River, and I’ll book passage from there. I have a friend in Highport—she doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to help me bring down Druknor. I’m going to stop him, once and for all.”

  “Good! It’s about time we did something about that old snake! Druknor’s underlings have been causing trouble up and down the Orvasse River for years.”

  Tallin sighed. “I know that now. The years following the war were difficult for everyone, especially the dragon riders. There was so much for us to do—so many people needed our help. With so many other pressing issues to attend to, we turned a blind eye to Druknor’s shady business dealings. But no longer. By the gods—I swear that Druknor’s rule in the north is over.”

  Duskeye looked confused. "If you are going to travel alone, what should I do here?"

  “You, my friend, are going to search for females. Just use your nose. This is your chance to find a wild female and not be bothered with all the duties that come with being my partner.”

  "It’s a waste of time. We’ve searched high and low and haven’t found any wild dragons in years."

  “Don’t be so hasty. Between Haluk and Pinda, we’ve already heard two accounts of wild females nesting in the south—something I never thought possible. Let me deal with Druknor—I want you to stay here and search.”

  Duskeye rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Fine! I’ll do it—but I’m telling you, it’s useless. Those stories are years old. There’s no chance that any of those females survived."

  Starclaw, silent up until now, cackled loudly. "Young fool! You should heed the advice of your rider!"

  Duskeye swung around in shock. Starclaw had never spoken to him like this, ever. What did she know? "Tell me, sister."

  Starclaw stretched herself up to her full height. Despite her injuries, she was still a beautiful creature, and as an emerald dragon, she towered over Duskeye by at least a third. "Your rider is right—you are a hasty fool. Do not disregard my
counsel, if you want to save our kin."

  Duskeye and Tallin both gasped. The very possibility of females nearby made Duskeye’s heart beat faster.

  "Listen to me, Duskeye. You are still healthy enough for mating; I can smell it." She leaned down and started a careful, sniffing inspection of Duskeye’s body. "My body is broken, but I recognize the musk of a bull-dragon as well as any female. The mating game is a game for the young, and you are already past your prime… but who knows? With so few males to choose from, you might get lucky."

  Tallin sat dumbfounded. Was Starclaw offering Duskeye the dragon’s equivalent of dating advice? The whole conversation was surreal.

  Duskeye’s breath quickened. "Please, sister, I beg of you—are there nesting females here?"

  Starclaw spoke, her tone serious. "Yes, there are survivors, hiding among these mountains. I have smelled them on the breeze. They hunt at night, when the moon is dark in the sky. They are still fearful, but they venture out more often from their hiding places, now that the dragon hunters have stopped raiding their nests and slaughtering their young."

  Duskeye bowed his head, prostrating himself before the older female. "Please, sister… help me. Tell me where they are."

  A look of insulted shock crossed her face. "I cannot say! You know that I cannot say! What a grave sin it would be for me to disclose their secret caves, after all they have suffered! You cannot comprehend how much fear remains in their hearts." She snorted and turned her face away from him. "I think you are very disagreeable and foolish!"

  Duskeye lowered his gaze, chastised. He knew that Starclaw was desperately trying to help him, without breaking any of their complex rules of civility.

  Starclaw went on, speaking carefully. "These females sought my counsel in deepest confidence, and I shall not betray their trust! It is your job to find a willing female. You must find her; you must tempt her. Only a worthy male shall discover and woo his mate. These are the rules—you are old enough to know them."

  Duskeye’s breath grew husky. Are the females receptive? Are they ready to mate?

  "Bah! Why do you ask such ignorant questions?" Starclaw snapped at him angrily with her jaws, barely nicking his neck.

  "Forgive me, sister! I meant no insult." Duskeye closed his eyes and bowed his head again. His breath remained labored and thick, but he remained on the ground before the older female, listening respectfully to everything she said. This time, he did not move or interrupt.

  Starclaw growled, her voice hard. "Ignorant young fool! What do you see when you look at me? You see nothing more than a crippled old wretch, covered with scars. I am so ugly and faded now, but I was beautiful once. I was the most beautiful emerald dragon in a thousand years, and I rejected hundreds of suitors more handsome than you!"

  Starclaw howled, crying into the heavens. Her voice was filled with anguish. Duskeye froze, not even daring to breathe. She arched her back and roared, so loudly that the trees shook. A short distance away, Marron abandoned his chopping and ran to his mother’s side. She embraced her frightened son and whispered words of comfort in his ear.

  Tallin felt enormous tension, as if a wire was about to snap.

  A deep silence settled over the forest, and Starclaw began to weep. Chua reached out his hand and touched her side gently. He whispered something and Starclaw nodded. When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper.

  "Our nesting time is a private matter. Those female mysteries cannot be shared with males. Do not ask me again." Her tone concealed a layer of desperation—she knew that her kin were on the brink of extinction, and she recognized that terrible reality. "Tamper your eagerness. Do not fly off half-crazed, like a first-year hatchling. No female desires a male who is too eager with his affections."

  She sniffed and continued. "Wait for your blood to cool. Then chew bloodroot; it grows wild along the riverbank. It shall give you strength and vigor. Rub numbweed on your wounded leg; it will mask your limp during the breeding dance—females favor a male without injuries. You will not have any competition for your mating gift, or your dance."

  "Entice her with your trumpet-call and earn the right to dance before her. If you try hard enough, perhaps she will accept you, despite that cloudy eye and all those scars of yours. You are old enough to be a grandsire, Duskeye, but your body is flawed. If there were but five other males to choose from, you wouldn’t have a chance! As it stands, you may be accepted, or you may not. Either way, you will need to work doubly hard to impress her. Do you understand me?"

  "Yes, sister," said Duskeye, nodding quietly.

  "Now go… find those females, Duskeye. And may the Sun Lion grant you luck, for the future of dragonkind may depend on you."

  Meeting in Morholt

  Tallin and Duskeye spent the night at the Elder Willow, sleeping under the stars. Tallin slept restlessly and awoke early the next morning to find Duskeye pacing back and forth. It was obvious that he hadn’t slept much. Starclaw lay nearby, listening to the younger dragon’s anxious shuffling with amusement.

  After packing his rucksack with food and supplies, Tallin bid everyone farewell. He accepted a crushing embrace from Marron, who almost lifted him off the ground, and then a motherly kiss on the cheek from Pinda. Tallin felt uncomfortable with all the attention, but he allowed them to fuss over him anyway.

  Chua called Tallin over and recited a quick prayer, marking his forehead with scented oil from a little tin. “Accept this blessing, my friend. May Baghra light your way and Golka protect you.”

  “Thank you, Chua. I’ll send a messenger bird when I reach Highport; it shouldn’t take more than a fortnight for me to arrive, even if I get stuck on a slow ship.”

  “Use a falcon or a crow, if you can. Hawks from the north are rather unreliable. They’re too easily distracted by an easy meal, and if they find a carcass along the way, your message will be lost.”

  Duskeye sat at the edge of the tree line, staring silently off into the distance as he waited for Tallin to ready his things. On the horizon, a rumbling cell of gray clouds gathered momentum.

  "There’s rain coming," he said.

  “We should try and beat the storm,” said Tallin. He felt uneasy about this journey, as if the weather was a sign of some dark foreboding.

  They departed immediately, both of them aware that it would be their last flight together for the foreseeable future. As they flew into the sky, the clouds darkened behind them and the wind blew fiercely at their backs.

  The Orvasse River drew into view a short while later, and Duskeye slowed. The normally blue water had turned murky, and the air was cold. Duskeye flew along the riverbank until they spotted a village with a small dock.

  “Stop down there, Duskeye. This is where we part ways, but only for a little while.” The dragon swooped down and landed near the water, where the marshy reeds were tall. Tallin climbed down from the saddle. The dragon stepped past his rider, pulling up a stalk of bloodroot growing on the bank. He grimaced as he chewed the bitter plant.

  "This tastes dreadful."

  Tallin chuckled. “Sometimes you’ve got to suffer unpleasant things in order to impress a woman. I don’t need to be a dragon to understand that.”

  Duskeye snorted. He wasn’t in the mood for jokes. "The storm is worsening. I can fly you farther north, so you can avoid it before it hits."

  “I appreciate the offer, but that won’t be necessary. I can handle a little rain. There are boats for hire all along the river, and I’ll make my own way.”

  They were silent for a moment, watching the clouds grow darker. A clap of thunder sounded in the distance, and a single drop of rain fell from the sky, dropping onto Duskeye’s nose. His expression was expectant. Tallin could see he was anxious. What can I say to him?

  Starclaw had given Duskeye a measure of hope, but also much uncertainty. The old she-dragon was right—Duskeye lacked the beauty and vigor of a younger male. Even if Duskeye was successful in finding a female, would she view him as a prospective mate or w
ould she only see his faults?

  Would she look at Duskeye, and see only his scars?

  Tallin felt worried and defeated. There were so few male dragons left. What options did they have? Nydeired and Orshek were barely out of adolescence. Although they were technically old enough to mate, neither had any experience with females. To an older she-dragon, the two of them would be nothing more than immature pests.

  But there were two other males, Tallin reminded himself. Poth and Blacktooth—the two black dragons that lived beyond the mortal lands, in the land of the elves.

  Poth was out of the question—he was old beyond reckoning, and well past the age of mating.

  Blacktooth was another story. He was attractive and healthy. Blacktooth would have a better chance with any of the females, and Tallin and Duskeye both knew it. But Blacktooth was far away—living in the land of the faerie.

  Tallin began to second-guess himself. Every year that passed without new hatchlings was another year that the dragon race came nearer to extinction. I owe it to the dragons to set my grudges aside, he thought. What if Duskeye finds a nesting female, only to be rejected? Do I dare risk it? The future of all dragonkin is at stake!

  Tallin looked at Duskeye sadly. “As much as I dislike the idea, I must notify Fëanor that nesting she-dragons have been discovered. Blacktooth is a healthy male, and this information is too important to keep secret.”

  Duskeye’s face fell, and he turned away in deep distress. He gazed sadly into the distance. "Blacktooth is as arrogant and haughty as his rider."

  “I know that. Please understand my position—this issue impacts all of us,” Tallin implored. “With no other males to choose from, these females could go unmated, and their unfertilized eggs will be lost.”

  Please give me a chance, said Duskeye quietly. "I know that I’m not as handsome as the others, but just let me prove my worth. If I fail, then you may contact Blacktooth, or any of the others if you wish."

  Duskeye’s heartfelt plea moved him deeply, and Tallin reached out to touch his wing. The dragon was trembling—with eagerness or fear, he knew not which.