“Captain…” He sobbed. “I…”
“It’s ok, kid…” He tried swallowing and felt a sickening taste of iron. “You did good.”
“I can find some patches, some stitches, I…”
“No.” Targon said. “It’s ok, you did ok.”
Enrig wiped the tears from his eyes.
“Reach into my pocket.” Targon said. “My inner pocket.”
Enrig fiddled with Targon’s jacket and removed three pieces of parchment.
“One of those is a map. It should help you get back.” He swallowed slowly. “The other one is a letter, Balcazar’s letter. Burn it.” He coughed and the pain made him cringe. “The last one is the proclamation of the king of Saggad. Keep it, collect the reward. All you need is to carve some evidence from the Dragon corpse.” Targon smiled. “You’ll be a rich man.”
Enrig couldn’t say anything.
“But I need to ask you one thing, though.” Targon went on, his voice rougher.
“Anything.” Enrig replied.
“It’s not a simple thing to ask, but you should be able to hire some professional Runners to help you.”
“Anything.” Enrig repeated.
“Find my home town, Awam. It’s on the other side of Arkhemia, on the western sea. You’ll like it.” His eyes became distant, dreamy. “It’s on the cliffs by the ocean. There are dozens of terraces where you can watch the sea. Feel the water sprinkle your face every time a wave crashes into the rocks. Feel the breeze ruffling your hair and hear the seagulls cry.” He stopped and for a moment, Enrig thought he was gone. “You’ll like it there… Find my wife, Shalim, and my son, Sargon… Give them some of the gold. Tell them I couldn’t deliver it myself.”
Enrig sniffed.
“I will. I promise.”
“Good, thank you.” Targon said. “Could you do one last thing?”
Enrig nodded.
“Sure.”
“Drag me to Anweh. I don’t want to die here.”
The boy wiped his face with the back of his shirt and then dragged Targon as gently as he could across the cave. He arranged Anweh’s body so that they were lying next to each other.
“Thanks…” Targon said, turning his head to face Anweh. A tear rolled down his cheek. “I’m here, little blossom. I’m right beside you.”
Targon reached for Anweh, entwining both their fingers; his hand clutched hers in a final embrace. She looked so peaceful.
Enrig saw something flicker in the Captain’s eyes, like a wind draft that had suddenly vanished, leaving them blank.
The boy forced himself to stop sobbing and wiped his face, sniffing heavily. He found Serak’s backpack and the torch fuel within it. Carefully, as if tending precious artifacts, he dropped some of it over every corpse, except Balcazar’s, then used the torch to light them all.
With several pyres burning around him, he collected as many Glowstone arrows and daggers as he could pack, and used one of them to remove a fang, a claw and a patch of scaly hide, from the fallen Dragon.
He took one last glance at the chamber, where the Dragon Dodgers burned around their mighty prey and headed towards the exit.
Morning had already come. The sun peered between two mountain peaks, shedding light upon the whole valley; the tiny silhouette of a Dragon glided over the horizon, searching for prey; and a thick mist streamed bellow, covering the forest.
Enrig took a deep breath. The Surface was a vast, sprawling place and he had a long way to Run.
The story of the world of Arkhemia continues soon.
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Dragon Dodgers (Wounds in the Sky Prequels Book 1) Page 8