by A. Giannetti
Stunned by the heavy stroke, the dragon shook its long, scaled neck vigorously, as if to clear its head, but as far as Elerian could tell, it was not damaged in the least. The keen edge of his blade had not even scratched its glittering, adamantine scales. Raising his left hand, Elerian narrowed his eyes and lit a mage light the size of two clenched fists, suspending it squarely above the dragon’s snout. A deafening roar of mingled pain and anger smote his ears as the bright rays of the magical light lanced into the dragon’s eyes.
“Run!” shouted Elerian to Ascilius. As he spun on his right heel to take his own advice, the dragon swiped blindly at him with its left paw, the tips of its hooked claws sinking deep into the front of his leather shirt, sweeping him off his feet and pinning him to the floor on his back. Struggling to free himself from the heavy, scaled paw pressing in on his chest, Elerian saw his mage light wink out through narrowed eyes.
“Just my luck, another magic user,” he thought to himself disgustedly as the dragon lowered its long, toothy jaws toward his face.
“I have you now,” said the dragon, glaring down at Elerian with hungry eyes that were still partially blinded from the intensity of Elerian’s mage light.
“Not yet,” said Elerian coldly.
Drawing his knife from his belt with his right hand, he thrust the long, gleaming blade of his weapon into the roof of the dragon’s partially open mouth. His sharp blade sank into the beast’s soft flesh, but at the first contact with the creature’s dark blood, it began to steam and dissolve. Uttering a piercing scream, the dragon jerked its head back, wrenching its soft palate away from Elerian’s blade. On his right, Elerian heard a muffled thud. Immediately, the dragon staggered to his left, releasing most of its weight from his chest. Supple as an eel, Elerian slipped out from under the dragon’s paw, leaping lithely to his feet. Sprawled on the floor near the dragon’s right side was Ascilius, a dazed look on his face. He had run full tilt into the dragon’s left shoulder, using his powerful body like a battering ram in a desperate attempt to free Elerian.
Casting away his useless knife, Elerian leaped forward and reached down with his left hand. Seizing Ascilius by his thick beard, he lifted the heavy Dwarf to his feet with an effortless pull of his sinewy arm.
“Run!” he shouted, giving a sharp tug on Ascilius’s beard that elicited a roar of anger from the Dwarf.
Together, they sprinted across the intersection, Elerian in the lead with Ascilius right on his heels. Behind them, they heard a thunderous roar and felt a sudden rush of heat wash over them as the dragon sent a plume of red flame after them. A rush of intense heat on the seat of his pants followed by the smell of burning leather stimulated Ascilius into a remarkable burst of speed. Covering the ground in great leaps, he shot by a surprised Elerian on his left, crossing the intersection in the blink of an eye.
Despite his desperate situation, Elerian felt a twinge of jealousy that the dragon had succeeded in wringing a speed out of Ascilius that exceeded that of his best prank. Redoubling his own efforts, he caught up with the Dwarf as he darted around a corner to the right, entering another small service road. Ascilius ran past the first doorway he passed, but when he came to a second doorway on his right, he scampered through it. As Elerian followed on Ascilius’s heels, he saw that that a stout, iron door hung from the doorframe, one of the few he had seen in the city.
Elerian slammed the door closed, the lock clicking shut as Ascilius cast a closing spell upon it. A tremendous, hollow boom suddenly filled the room as the dragon struck the door. It shivered in its frame, but remained closed. Ascilius immediately cast a closing spell on the entire door as more heavy blows followed the first. The upper panel dented inward, and dust drifted down from the ceiling, but the stout iron door sealing the entryway gave no sign of giving way.
Abruptly, the blows ceased and there was a sudden silence on the other side of the door. Then, the door suddenly groaned on its hinges. With his magical eye, Elerian saw wisps of shimmering red light creep in through the cracks in the doorframe.
“The dragon must have cast an opening spell,” thought Elerian to himself. “Who will prove to be the stronger mage?” he wondered to himself as he watched Ascilius pour more power into his closing spell, struggling against the dragon for mastery of the door. Elerian put his left hand on Ascilius's left shoulder, letting some of his own power flow into the Dwarf. The wisps of red seeping past the door vanished, replaced by a uniform film of golden light as Ascilius’s spell became ascendant.
An angry hissing sound like a vast teapot bubbling over came from behind the door. The bitter smell of hot iron suddenly filled the room, and a cherry red spot began to grow in the center of the top half of the door.
Ascilius raised his right arm. Elerian saw a golden orb fly from the Dwarf’s hand, striking the growing crimson blotch on the door. The hot iron creaked as it began to darken and cool. Elerian and Ascilius both started when a wonderfully rich, resonant voice suddenly spoke from behind the door.
“You cannot escape you know,” said the red dragon. “You will be found no matter where you hide.”
“Take care that Eboria does not find you first,” warned Elerian. “She may not be pleased to find you so close to her stolen treasure.”
“My dear fool, I am here at her command! I have helped plunder all of the smaller rooms and tunnels where my mother’s magnificent size would not permit her to enter. Rich was the feasting and more than magnificent was the treasure which I helped recover for my queenly mother.”
“Queen!” roared Ascilius, forgetting his own advice not to speak to dragons. “Thieves and murderers is what you are!”
The Dwarf sprang at the door, crimson sparks burning in his dark eyes. Elerian seized him by the shoulders, but it was like trying to restrain a falling boulder. With muscles grown hard as stone, Ascilius dragged him forward, seizing the door handle with both powerful hands before trying violently to twist it open. Luckily, in his sudden rage, the Dwarf had forgotten about the closing spell that he had placed on the door. As he struggled to wrench the door open, Elerian quickly cast a spell of immobility over Ascilius, freezing him in place before the locked door.
The red dragon, who knew nothing of what had taken place on the other side of the door, suddenly spoke again.
“Open the door and I will discuss your grievances against us. There is no need to be angry,” he said soothingly.
Elerian felt a sudden desire to both see and speak to the creature from which that wonderful voice emanated. A compulsion grew inside of him to open the door. From the look in Ascilius’s eyes, Elerian guessed that the Dwarf was also in the grip of the dragon’s command, although he could not move a muscle. Hastily, Elerian cast a protection spell over himself, a mantle of golden light spilling out from the fingers of his right hand to cover him completely, like a golden cloak. The pressure inside his mind to open the door immediately faded away.
“You will have to try some other trick to get us to open that door,” said Elerian mildly.
“You have delayed your fate, nothing more,” said the dragon angrily, for it was annoyed now as well as hurting from the injury to its upper jaw. “We will feast on your flesh, just as we feasted on the Dwarves who dwelt in this city.”
“I will make boots out of your hide before this is over,” said Elerian, unable to resist taunting the dragon.
At these last words, the creature lost its temper and began pounding on the door again, filling the room with hollow booms that smote the ears of the two companions one after another. Judging that Ascilius had calmed down by now, Elerian released him from the spell that held him immobile. As the Dwarf let go of the door handle, the blows suddenly stopped. A long silence followed.
“What now?” asked Elerian in a worried voice.
“I am not sure,” whispered back Ascilius. “The beast may still be outside the door, or it may have decided to go around to the front of the building. As one, he and Elerian glanced at the other door hanging in the do
orframe across the room. It was made of oak, no protection at all from an angry dragon. “We must leave here at once,” continued Ascilius, “but if I choose the wrong door, we will walk straight into the dragon’s jaws.”
Sweat sprang out on the Dwarf’s broad brow as he agonized over the choice he must make. Suddenly ending his closing spell, he flung open the battered door before him.
The tunnel outside was empty.
“Quickly now!” whispered Ascilius, urgently motioning Elerian into the passageway beyond the door.
As soon as Elerian ran through the doorway, Ascilius leaped after him, slamming the door shut behind him before locking it again. A moment later, it suddenly shivered in its frame, and a frustrated roar overlaid with a weighty boom rent the air. As Ascilius had correctly guessed, the dragon had run to the front of the building, hoping to take them from behind. Without a word, the Dwarf sprinted away to his right with Elerian following close behind. The pounding of scaled flesh on iron faded away behind them.
“We must keep moving,” said Ascilius softly as they ran. “After its anger fades, the dragon will remember the open door behind it. Once it enters this tunnel, it can follow our scent like a hound.”
In silence, always listening for the click of claws on stone behind them, they continued down the passageway, past rows of doorways, most of them forced open. After darting across an intersection with one of the larger boulevards, they continued down the same tunnel until they came to an intersection with another service road. There, they turned to their left, slowing to a walk as they followed the passageway deeper into the city.
“Talking to a dragon for a second time was a dangerous, foolish thing to do,” Ascilius said reprovingly after a moment as he and Elerian walked side by side down the tunnel.
“You spoke to him first,” Elerian reminded the Dwarf. “You would have opened the door if I had not stopped you.”
Ascilius's face darkened for a moment as his temper flared again but then it quickly cleared.
“I lost my temper,” he admitted ruefully. “When I did that, I left myself open to the dragon's magic. Had I been alone, I would have opened the door without a thought for my safety. I thank you for saving me once again.”
“It was nothing,” said Elerian who had only been gently poking fun at Ascilius. “I can only imagine the anger you must feel against these creatures that have despoiled your city. Our narrow escape did serve a purpose, however. We now know what plundered the rooms that Eboria could not reach.”
“The appearance of the red dragon explains more than that,” said Ascilius grimly. “When Eboria forced her way past the gates, her dragonet must have run to one of the smaller ramps, forcing its way up the third level. It most likely took the Dwarves attempting to close the ramp gates from behind, delaying them long enough for Eboria to rush up the main ramp and destroy the gates. The whole of the second and third levels would then have been defenseless against their depredations.”
“The fourth level gates may also be open,” said Elerian, hesitant to add to the burden of Ascilius’s worries. “The red dragon was purposely obscure, but I would not be surprised if it had at least one sibling.”
“We will find out in due time I am sure,” said Ascilius gloomily. “For now, we must deal with the dragon we know about. Despite the danger, I still wish to search this level. I doubt that we will find any survivors, but we can at least replenish our food. All of the inns and storerooms are located on this level of the city.”
Ascilius suddenly fell silent, for it seemed to him that he heard the click of claws on stone far down the passageway behind him. Elerian heard the sound, too. Concerned that the red dragon was still following them, he began to think furiously about what he might do to break their scent trail.
“If I were above ground, I would know what to do,” he thought to himself in frustration, “but here, in this stony wasteland, how am I to break up our trail?”
A sudden image of the balconies they had seen on the main boulevards suddenly appeared in Elerian’s mind.
“Ascilius, is there a shop nearby that sells rope?” he asked suddenly.
The Dwarf, who was listening intently behind him for more sounds of pursuit, started slightly at the unexpected sound of Elerian’s voice.
“There is a place that sells cordage at the next corner, but I do not see how rope will help us. We need to think of a way to break our scent trail or we are done for,” he replied.
“There is no time to explain now,” said Elerian who thought he heard the scrape of claws on stone again in the darkness behind them. Was that slight sound the snuffling of nostrils? He began to run again, and in short order, he and Ascilius arrived at the next intersection, where their small service tunnel crossed one of the larger streets. Ascilius immediately ran into the shop on the corner on their left, followed by Elerian. They found the usual disorder inside, but Elerian was able to salvage a thick rope about sixty feet long from the debris on the floor. From the ceiling, he ripped down a sturdy iron light bracket, snapping the thin chain from which it was suspended with powerful tug of his sinewy right arm. Shaped rather like a three-armed grappling hook, it was perfect for his needs.
“Let us go to the second floor,” he said to a mystified Ascilius after he had procured everything that he needed.
Ascilius balked at once. “If the dragon finds us, we will be trapped there,” he objected.
“If my plan works, we will be safe enough,” replied Elerian confidently.
He ran lightly into the back room of the shop and ascended the stairs to the next level, followed by a grumbling Ascilius. Elerian ran through the apartment at the top of the stairs until he stood in the parlor that fronted the large street in front of the shop. Set in the far wall of the room were two large broken windows with a set of open, double doors between them.
“Excellent,” said Elerian as he ran across the room and stepped out onto the balcony that lay beyond the doors. Six feet deep and twelve feet across, the stone balcony was edged with a sturdy waist high iron rail. Twenty feet below the floor of the balcony was the hard stone sidewalk that ran in front of the shop. Almost thirty feet away, on the far side of the street, was another balcony that was a twin to the one he was standing on.
“Now comes the difficult part,” thought Elerian to himself, fastening the end of his rope to an eye forged into the stem of his improvised grappling hook.
“You will never get that in place,” said Ascilius critically, as he began to gain some insight into Elerian’s plan. “The distance is too great.”
Ignoring Ascilius, Elerian raised his right hand and cast a sending spell at the light bracket. With his third eye, he watched a small golden orb fly from his fingertips. When it struck and enveloped the bracket with a film of golden light, the iron fixture instantly disappeared, reappearing above the center of the balcony on the far side of the boulevard. There was a faint ring of iron as the bracket fell five feet to the stone floor of the gallery. Trying not to look smug, Elerian carefully pulled on his end of the rope until his improvised grappling hook was firmly lodged on the top rail of the iron fence fastened to the rim of the balcony.
“That was cheating,” observed Ascilius, looking impressed in spite of himself.
“You are just jealous of my superior magic,” said Elerian as he pulled his rope tight. With a parting spell, he trimmed off all but a three-foot length, which he wrapped around the top rail of the balustrade in front of him. Casting a transformation spell, Elerian turned the rope into a hard, almost woody substance that hung stiffly between the two balconies.
“Now what?” asked Ascilius uneasily.
His worst fears were realized when Elerian leaped lightly to the top of the rail and ran several feet out onto the hardened rope, which easily bore his weight.
“You might as well ask me to fly across,” said Ascilius dourly. “I cannot walk on that thin strand.”
“You will not have to,” replied Elerian, running lightly across the
stiff rope until he stood on the rail on the far side.
After leaping lightly down to the balcony, Elerian turned and raised his right hand, casting the same calling spell on Ascilius that he had used on Durio in the Broken Lands. With his third eye, he watched a small golden orb fly from his fingers. Skillfully aimed, it struck Ascilius squarely on his broad chest, enveloping the Dwarf in a golden film of light. Instantly, Ascilius disappeared, reappearing by Elerian’s side. While the Dwarf carefully felt himself all over to make sure that all of his bodily parts had arrived with him, Elerian transformed the rope back to its natural state. Flexible again, it slipped from the railing on the far side of the passageway, and Elerian quickly coiled it up.
“That will set a pretty puzzle for the red dragon,” he said to Ascilius. “If it tracks us to the first balcony, it will think we have grown wings and flown off into the city.”
“We will see,” said Ascilius gloomily. “Do not forget how clever these creatures are.”
Entering the apartment before them, they descended the stairs inside, exiting the building through its back door into another service tunnel. Turning left, they resumed their journey into the city. They stopped often listen, but there was no sound of pursuit behind them, only a deep silence.
“Either my ruse worked or the dragon has returned to the main ramp where we must pass sooner or later,” thought Elerian to himself. He was about to speak to Ascilius when the sharp click of claws on stone broke the silence only a short distance behind them.