The Hidden Realm: Book 04 - Ennodius

by A. Giannetti

  At the far side of the pit, Ascilius had reined in his mare just inside the trees. When Elerian looked his way, the Dwarf signaled impatiently with his right arm for Elerian to follow him. Elerian was about to urge Enias around the hole when a bright pinprick of light high in the sky to the north suddenly caught his eye. He stared at it perplexed, for it was shooting across the heavens toward him like a comet, growing larger by the moment. Fascinated, Elerian watched as the speck became larger and larger, approaching with startling speed. Despite the gathering darkness, his farsighted eyes could now make out some of the details of the approaching shape. With a start, Elerian suddenly realized that he was looking at a live creature.

  He could see now that it sped through the sky on vast ribbed wings, the small, overlapping green scales that covered its body reflecting the dying sunlight with glints of gold along their edges. A long tail with a triangular tip streamed out behind it in the wind of its passage, and as it flew, the creature twisted its long, sinuous neck back and forth, scanning the land beneath it with its long, narrow horned head.

  “The dragon!” thought Elerian to himself. “And here I sit like a gaping fool.”

  He knew that he ought to warn Ascilius, but he remained silent, eyes drinking in the splendor of the wondrous creature that was drawing closer with each wing beat. He had seen a young dragon during his escape from Nefandus, but it shrank to insignificance in his mind when compared to the enormous wyrm fast approaching him, its glittering beauty exerting a peculiar fascination over him that made it difficult to do think or move. Suddenly, the dragon emitted a low bass roar that broke over the plains like thunder, seeming to make the earth tremble.

  Elerian heard Ascilius’s mare scream in terror. Because of the trees around them, neither the Dwarf nor the mare had seen the dragon approaching. Panicked by the wyrm’s unexpected roar, Ascilius mount instinctively sought out the safety of the open plains where she could make the best use of her speed. She burst out of the wood, thundering south across the darkening plain, away from the approaching menace in the skies, her dark hide already flecked with sweat and her large eyes dark with terror. Still unable to move, Elerian watched helplessly as she ran by Enias, her reins dragging free, for Ascilius, bouncing wildly on her back as he tried desperately to keep his seat, was hanging on to her saddle with both hands.

  Abruptly, the Dwarf lost his grip on the saddle. His feet slipped out of his stirrups, and he flew high into the air before falling heavily to the ground on the mare’s left where he lay without moving. The frightened mare continued to run flat out, leaving the crumpled form of Ascilius behind. Still held in the grip of some strange enthrallment, Elerian watched as the dragon, now high in the sky above the fleeing mare, stooped like an enormous falcon. Dropping down through the air in a steep, swift dive, it struck Ascilius’ hapless steed with the bony knuckles of its clenched feet as it flew low over the mare’s back. The impact knocked the mare off her feet, sending her rolling across the ground. Screaming frantically, she flailed her feet, struggling to stand up again as the dragon, beating the air with its vast pinions, banked in a tight circle before landing nearby. Folding its wings back, it pounced on its helpless prey like a colossal cat. With one bite of its huge jaws and a powerful shake of its head, the dragon broke the mare’s neck. Standing with its front feet planted on the hapless beast’s sleek hide, it raised its head and gave another earth-shaking roar, which was followed by a great gout of flame that shot from its open mouth high into the sky like a red-gold fountain that turned the dragon’s gleaming scales a green-gold color.

  Dropping its horned head, the dragon turned and stared directly at Elerian, still sitting astride Enias at the margin of the pit. He saw, then, that the pupils of her enormous eyes were dark vertical slits, like those of a snake; the irises around them a brilliant emerald green. The strange paralysis that had gripped him when he first saw the beast intensified as Elerian stared into the dragon’s luminous eyes, which seemed to grow and merge until he felt as if he were drowning in an enormous green pool. The creature could have taken him then, for he was unable to move, but the scent of fresh meat called to it irresistibly. Ignoring Elerian and Enias for the moment, the dragon stooped its head to feed on one of the mare’s hindquarters.

  Once the dragon looked away from him, Elerian was able to shake off the odd languor that had overcome him. He saw that Ascilius was still lying in a crumpled heap barely thirty feet away, apparently lifeless. An overwhelming impulse to ride away on Enias, as fast and as far as possible from the scaled monster noisily devouring Ascilius’s mare, gripped Elerian

  “The Dwarf is dead. Leave him and save yourself,” whispered a panicked voice in his mind.

  “I cannot leave him until I am sure he is dead,” Elerian silently insisted to himself, firmly quelling the urge to run.

  Keeping a wary eye on the dragon, he wordlessly urged Enias forward. Nervous tremors ran through the stallion, as if a cold, wintry wind blew over his sleek gray hide, but he did not hesitate. Mastering his fear, he walked slowly toward the fallen Dwarf, his neat hooves making no noise on the thick turf. Each step Enias took was a test of his courage, for it brought him closer to the dragon, which was making low, rumbling sounds of pleasure as it noisily tore huge chunks of flesh from the carcass of the mare.

  After an eternity, the stallion reached Ascilius, standing with quivering muscles to the left of the Dwarf. Leaning far to his right, Elerian cautiously and slowly pulled Ascilius’s limp form up onto Enias’s shoulders. The Dwarf lay, without moving, face down across Enias’s withers, but his back rose and fell regularly, indicating that he was still alive.

  The dragon was now barely a hundred feet away. Suddenly, it raised its head to stare Elerian again. Its eyes glittered like green lamps in the thickening dark, but Elerian avoided looking into them this time. He remained motionless, afraid even to take a deep breath. Beneath him, he could feel Enias shivering.

  “Our lives hang by a thread,” he thought to himself. If their proximity to the dragon overcame the lure of fresh meat, even Enias’s great speed would not suffice to carry them to safety in time.

  The dragon shifted her right paw, her muscles tensing beneath her sleek hide like steel cables as she prepared to spring on the prey that had so obligingly approached her. Searching desperately with his eyes for something which might distract the beast, Elerian’s gaze happened on the sacks containing Ascilius’s winnings.

  “Dragons love gold,” he thought hopefully to himself.

  Aiming carefully, Elerian flexed the fingers of his left hand, watching anxiously with his third eye as a tiny orb of golden light flew through the air toward the leather lashings holding Ascilius’s two sacks of gold and silver coins firmly to his saddle. His aim was good, for the parting spell cut the leather straps cleanly in two. The sacks fell to the ground, the chink of metal on metal ringing out clearly in the still air as the coins in the sacks clinked against each other.

  With frightening speed, the dragon whipped her head around to the right, lowering her great head and eagerly sniffing at the two sacks with nostrils that suddenly glowed orange. With her enormous left paw, she picked up both sacks. Bouncing them lightly to gage their weight, she listened with obvious pleasure to the jingle of the coins inside them.

  Fighting the desire to hurry, Elerian turned Enias around and urged the stallion toward the cover of the trees at a slow walk. It took all his will power not to look over his shoulder. At any moment, he expected to feel the bite of enormous teeth and talons, but the attack never came. Once Enias entered the wood on the far side of the pit, Elerian looked slowly back over his left shoulder. The dragon had raised her head again and was looking intently in his direction. Elerian dropped his eyes slightly and silently told Enias to stop. The stallion was still trembling with nervous tension, but he obeyed Elerian instantly.

  Had they attempted to run, Elerian was certain that the dragon would have attacked them. Standing quietly under the trees, however, they d
id nothing to rouse its predatory instincts. After a moment of indecision, the dragon carefully set aside the money sacks that it still held in its right paw. Obviously loathe to abandon both her meal and her newfound treasure; she began tearing at the flesh of the mare again with her great jaws, the ripping, crunching noises she made coming clearly to Elerian’s ears through the still air.

  Ascilius now began to stir, groaning softly. The fall had both stunned him and driven the breath out of his lungs, but he was otherwise unhurt. He raised his head, looking past Elerian’s left knee to watch the feeding dragon for a moment.

  “Keep moving,” he whispered softly to Elerian. “Eboria is sure to pursue us when she has satisfied her hunger.”

  Elerian urged Enias deeper into the trees before turning north again.

  “Let me get down,” said Ascilius after a moment. “I have got my breath back again.”

  When Enias stopped, the Dwarf slipped down off of his shoulders. Elerian leaped lightly down to the ground next to him. In single file, with Ascilius leading the way and Enias bringing up the rear, they continued north through the wood, moving as silently as possible.

  “It must have been the dragon which frightened off the canigrae last night,” thought Elerian to himself as he walked behind Ascilius. “I hope it ate the Goblins and all their hounds.”

  Looking behind him at Enias’s sculpted head; Elerian saw that the stallion appeared relaxed again. Deciding that it was safe to talk, he asked Ascilius a question. “Ascilius, how do you know the dragon’s name?” he said softly.

  The Dwarf did not turn his head or slow his pace, but the narrow escape from the dragon seemed to have cured his bad temper, for he replied readily to Elerian’s query.

  “Dragons never reveal their true name, Elerian, but Dwarves have given their own names to the greatest among them,” he said quietly. In a deep voice, he began to recite: “Eboria, green as the sea; Rufius, red as fire; Nigrum, black as night. These are the oldest and most powerful dragons that are known to the Dwarves. There may be more, but no one knows for certain, for when they are not troubling the world, dragons make their homes in the high peaks of the Tertulus to the north of the Tarsian plains.

  “At present, Nigrum and Cyaneus hold two of our cities in the far North, sleeping on beds made of the treasure they stole from us long ago. Eboria has not been seen in almost as long. It was my hope that she might be dead.”

  “They are unlike any other creature I have seen before,” observed Elerian. “They have six limbs like a lentulus whereas most of the creatures of the Middle Realm have only four.”

  “There is much that you have not seen yet in the Middle Realm,” Ascilius assured Elerian, “for you are young even as Men measure age, but you are right to say dragons are different. Some say they came out of the Dark Years, during the first age. Others think they came from Outside through a gate that was opened by chance or by one of the great mages. Wherever they came from, they are a plague on the Dwarf race, and I wish all of them would disappear forever,” Ascilius concluded angrily.

  “Why do they trouble Dwarves more than the other races?” asked Elerian curiously.

  “Treasure,” replied Ascilius quietly. “Dragons lust after treasure. They do not mine so they must steal their wealth. Of course, once they have it, all they do is sleep on it, which seems a waste of effort to me.”

  Elerian immediately thought of Durio, the changeling they had met in the Broken Lands, caught in the spell of his treasure and thought that he understood the dragons’ lust for gold, even if Ascilius did not. Behind them and to their right, Eboria suddenly issued another of her earth shaking roars.

  “That is for our benefit,” said Ascilius to Elerian. “Few creatures have the courage not to panic and stay hidden once they hear the sound of a hunting dragon.”

  “I wish that I had given some warning when I first saw her,” said Elerian regretfully. “I might have been able to save the poor mare. It was as if I was in the grip of a spell.”

  “Almost certainly you were,” replied Ascilius. “It is perilous to stare directly at a dragon that old. To look at her closely is to fall under her spell. I regret the death of the mare, too, even though, twice now, she was nearly the death of me, but I regret the loss of my pack even more. Half our supplies are gone now and our money, too.” Ascilius had not failed to notice that his winnings were resting on the ground by the dragon’s left paw.

  “It was money well spent,” replied Elerian. “Had the gold and silver not distracted her, I think we would never have made it to the safety of the trees.”

  “Still, it seems like adding insult to injury,” grumbled Ascilius. “Eboria has no doubt robbed my city and now she has robbed me personally.”

  “She was the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen,” said Elerian, thinking of the dragon and not really heeding Ascilius's words. “She looked like a great green and gold comet shooting across the sky.”

  “Beauty can hide great evil,” replied Ascilius brusquely. “Consider the Urucs. At first glance, they are fair seeming, but underneath, they are wicked creatures. Dwarves, on the other hand, are plain featured folk, but we have noble characters.”

  “You must have one of the most splendid characters of the whole Dwarf nation then,” said Elerian with a gleam in his eye.

  Ascilius frowned, trying to work out if Elerian had just poked fun at him again. Finally, he shook his head as if in despair. “It is impossible to have an intelligent conversation with you. I do not know why I even bother.”

  “We must think of some way to evade Eboria,” he said after a moment in a more serious voice. “She is probably hunting us already. We will be lucky if we escape her claws tonight.”

  “Let us take to the water again,” Elerian suggested to Ascilius. “If she tries to track us, it may throw her off the scent.”

  Ascilius could not think of a better idea, so they descended the steep slope on their left until they reached the east bank of the Catalus. There was no level place to walk along the shore, but Elerian saw that the swift flowing water was barely knee deep near the bank.

  “We can follow the river if we stay near shore,” he said to Ascilius as he stepped into the cold, green tinted water.

  “I have come to hate water with a passion and yet I cannot seem to avoid it,” grumbled Ascilius to himself as he reluctantly followed Elerian into the river. Enias splashed into the water behind Ascilius.

  Fortunately, the river bottom proved to be mostly hard packed gravel, which allowed all three of them to keep their footing well enough. As they waded through the knee-deep water, Elerian looked thoughtfully at the foothills on their left.

  “Do you think we should try for the cover of the forest across the river?” he asked Ascilius.

  “I do not think we should chance it,” replied Ascilius at once. “It is a good ten miles to the edge of the hills. If Eboria overtakes us in the open, we are done for.”

  They continued wading through the river, staying under the branches of the willows, whose long, drooping branches hung far out over the watercourse. They had not traveled far before Eboria soared silently overhead like a great, dark cloud. She turned immediately, returning to circle lazily above them.

  Elerian watched the dragon for a moment through the screen of leaves over head, and then said quietly, “I think she can she can see us, Ascilius. She must have mage sight as you suspected.”

  “That means there is no place nearby that will hide us from her,” said Ascilius grimly. “She can see our shades moving under the trees.”

  “If we can last until the sun rises, her mage sight will not help her,” replied Elerian. “Our shades will grow dim under the light of the sun, too dim for her to see them easily.”

  “We will not see this dawn or any other, for sunrise is hours away,” said Ascilius hopelessly. “We cannot run from Eboria all that time.”

  At that moment the dragon roared again, causing the leaves overhead to quiver. Elerian drew his
sword, and Ascilius held his knife ready in his right hand. Apprehensively, they waited for the great beast above them to hurtle down and destroy them as she had Ascilius’s poor mare.

  A NEW SPELL

  The attack Elerian and Ascilius were dreading never came. Instead, Eboria continued to circle above them, gliding through the air on her broad, leathery wings.

  “She is playing with us,” said Ascilius softly and bitterly to Elerian. “She has fed and now she requires sport. She wants us to run.”

  Elerian did not reply, for he had finally thought of a plan which might save their lives if all went well.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispered to Ascilius. Extending his right arm, he watched as a fist sized golden orb flew from his fingertips. Speeding through a gap in the willow branches above his head, it flashed toward the dragon, blossoming into a great ball of white light barely three feet from the end of Eboria’s long nose.

  The mage light caught Eboria by surprise, for she was not expecting magic. She immediately snapped her eyelids shut, but the white rays had already pierced her eyes like knives, momentarily blinding her. With a roar of pain and anger, Eboria extinguished the light that was now following her through the sky, maintaining exactly the same position near the end of her nose. Once the light was gone, Eboria blindly beat her great wings to gain altitude.

  “Stay close to me,” said Elerian to Ascilius and Enias. When he raised his right hand, a stream of golden light, visible only to his magical third eye, spilled from his fingertips, enveloping all three of them. Beneath the film of light, their shapes began to change, flowing into new forms as if they had suddenly become liquid. Moments later, three great green and gold fish swam against the current where Elerian, Ascilius, and Enias had been standing a moment before. Elerian’s metal embossed tunic, his pack, and all his weapons along with Ascilius’s tunic, knife, and steel cap lay in the water next to them, for he had not the power to send any of them away through a portal to join his spell book.