by A. Giannetti
“He is right,” said Elerian to Ascilius. “Are you hurt at all? Your bones must be as hard as those of an old Troll to survive the blow the dragon dealt your chest.”
“I feel as if a mountain has fallen on me, but I am only bruised thanks to my backpack and the quilted shirt under my mail,” replied Ascilius in his deep voice.
“I also suffered only bruises,” replied Tonare in his rough voice.
“I will deal with our injuries later, then,” said Elerian, “after we have distanced ourselves from this place. What will happen to the fire if it is left alone?” he asked Ascilius, for the red flames that had consumed the dragon still licked hungrily at the air.
“It cannot spread, so it will sink into the floor eventually,” replied Ascilius. “When the liquid rock closes over it, the fire will go out, but there is no sense in taking chances.”
Ascilius extended his right hand, and with his magical third eye, Elerian saw a small orb of golden light fly from his fingertips. When it struck the flames, it spread, covering them in a cloak of golden light. When the fire beneath the golden film abruptly died, Elerian walked up to the roughly oval patch of glowing rock that had lain under the flames. A gleam from the ground near the edge of the hot stone caught his eye. Stooping over, Elerian saw two round scales the size of gold coins lying on the street, gleaming like black jewels in rays of his mage light. Gingerly, he touched one, finding it cool to the touch.
“Leave them,” said Ascilius harshly when Elerian picked up the scales and put them in a pocket. “No good will come of them.”
“That remains to be seen,” said Elerian. He had the feeling that the scales be useful to them.
“At least I am revenged on one of these creatures,” said Ascilius in a cold, satisfied voice. “I would like to see how Eboria takes the loss of one of her own for a change.”
“And I would not,” said Elerian. “She would never cease to seek our deaths.”
“I do not care,” said Ascilius grimly. A wild light suddenly appeared in his eyes. Lifting the forefinger of his right hand, he pressed his fingertip into the street near where the dragon had died, his finger sinking into the stone to the first joint. With quick firm strokes, the Dwarf drew the outline of a hammer in the floor of the tunnel, the stone flowing like water around his finger.
“Dragons cannot read, but Eboria will know the face that goes with that symbol,” said Ascilius. “From the scorched stone of the floor, she will guess what happened here. Leave those two scales and she will not have to guess at all.”
“I will keep the scales,” replied Elerian firmly. He had deep misgivings about what Ascilius had done, but he knew better than to argue with the Dwarf when he was in one of his fey moods.
By the time he retrieved Fulmen, Ascilius’s wild mood had passed. “I hope we do not encounter Eboria,” he said gloomily to Elerian. “This was only a young dragon, but even with our new weapons, it took all three of us to overcome it. I do not think we will stand much chance if we must battle with Eboria, herself.”
“Let us hope we will not have to fight at all,” replied Elerian as he followed Ascilius across the boulevard and into the service tunnel on the far side. Tonare followed along behind him, his fierce little eyes glittering in the dim light cast by Elerian’s mage light.
At first, Ascilius and Elerian remained on edge, expecting an attack from the slain dragon’s sibling at any moment. When all remained quiet, however, Ascilius suddenly asked Elerian a question in a soft, cunning voice.
“What were you about to say back there when you thought I was dead?”
“Why, nothing at all,” replied Elerian blandly.
“I am sure you were about to say something more,” said Ascilius positively. “Perhaps you were going to mention what a brave and stalwart companion I have been and how much you were going to miss me,” suggested Ascilius slyly.
“I think you hit your head and are now confused,” replied Elerian, struggling hard not laugh. “Why would I miss a grumpy, hothead like yourself?”
Before Ascilius could think of a suitable reply, they arrived at the great outer boulevard that ringed the city. Out of a sense of abundant caution, they both fell silent, for twice now, they had been attacked at similar intersections. After several long, tense moments, Ascilius turned to his right, keeping to the left side of the street, which was bordered by a blank wall of stone. As they walked quietly down the passageway, all three of the companions kept a watchful eye on the dark, empty workshops on their right, any one of which might conceal another dragon waiting in ambush. Elerian guessed they had covered almost a quarter mile when a large entranceway suddenly appeared on their left, the great steel doors on either side of it hanging askew from badly twisted steel hinges.
“This is the passageway that leads to the back gate,” whispered Ascilius.
After extinguishing their mage lights, the three companions entered the vaulted tunnel. Elerian now took the lead, for Ascilius and Tonare were effectively blind in the lightless passageway. Tonare was able to use his nose to help him follow Elerian, but Ascilius was forced to hang onto his companion’s pack with his left hand as Elerian glided down the passageway silent as a shadow.
With his third eye open, Elerian negotiated the dark tunnel with ease, for the dead black walls and floor of the passageway were illuminated by his golden shade, allowing him to see where he was going. When he glanced over his shoulder, Elerian saw the shades of Ascilius and Tonare following cautiously behind him. He frowned as the faint click of Tonare’s nails and the light tramp of Ascilius’s boots, magnified by the tomblike silence of the passageway, came clearly to his keen ears.
“This will not do,” thought Elerian to himself. “The noise they are making may be enough to wake Eboria if we find her in the hall before the gate.”
Just then, Elerian stopped in his tracks, for a dim, greenish glow had become visible in the distance. As Ascilius had feared, Eboria was on her golden bed, sleeping before the back gate.
EBORIA’S LAIR
When he turned his head to look over his right shoulder, Elerian saw that Ascilius and Tonare had stopped behind him. Closing his third eye, for there was now enough light to see by, Elerian silently slipped off his boots. Ascilius did the same. Then, with Rasor, Elerian cut strips of cloth from his cloak, binding them around Tonare’s feet to keep his toenails from clicking on the stone floor of the passageway.
“That is the best that I can do to silence these noisy fellows,” thought Elerian to himself as he resumed his stealthy advance down the passageway, followed by his now silent companions.
Before long, they reached the entrance to a great, vaulted chamber. The steel doors on each side of the entryway were thrown down, lying on the stone floor of the hall on either side of the doorway. The faint, red-green glow which lit the hall waxed and waned like a flickering fire, revealing a double row of tall, wide spaced pillars that ran the length of the chamber. Between the pillars, in the middle of the hall, lay a vast treasure, enough to buy a kingdom. Jewels gleaming white, green, blue, and crimson formed pinpoints of color in an enormous mound of gold and silver, both raw and worked, all reflecting the strange glow which filled the chamber.
Sleeping in a hollow in the center of the riches was Eboria, the source of the light which filled the hall. She was curled up in a ball, her long head partially covered by her scaly tail, a faint, ruddy glow, emitted by her inner fires, tinting her green scales with crimson.
Behind Eboria and her golden bed, where Elerian guessed the back gate had once stood, was an enormous pile of stone and masonry which Eboria must have heaped up to ensure that the back doors to the city would never open again.
Lightly touching Elerian’s right shoulder with his left hand, Ascilius pantomimed that they must cross to the far side of the great hall. After carefully checking all his gear to make certain that nothing would rattle or clink and give them away, Ascilius took a deep breath to steady himself. Then, followed by Elerian and Tonar
e, he slowly led the way around the right side of the chamber, his right shoulder almost brushing the stone walls of the great hall as he stayed as far from the sleeping dragon as he could get. Behind him, his two companions followed him, quiet as shadows. All three of them could hear Eboria's steady breathing, rushing in and out like an enormous bellows.
When they were two thirds of the way around the chamber, Elerian began to feel that, incredibly, they might make it through undetected, for Eboria was still lying on her bed apparently deep in slumber. Her great head was now almost facing the three companions, her eyes, just visible above her tail, closed fast when Elerian had last looked at her.
Suddenly, Ascilius, who was still in the lead, froze in his tracks, a look of consternation on his face, which was turned toward the sleeping dragon. Dreading what he might see, Elerian glanced at Eboria again and was dismayed when he saw that her great eyes were open. Like green lamps, they were staring directly at him and his two companions.
“You have finally shown yourselves my little friends,” said Eboria without lifting her head, her voice fairly purring with satisfaction.
“We are no friends of yours, you murdering beast,” sputtered Ascilius, suddenly beside himself with anger that made him heedless of danger. “You will pay someday for what you have done here!”
Eboria laughed at the Dwarf’s anger, a wonderful, warm deep laugh. Rising lazily, supple as any cat, she walked to the edge of the heap of treasure, gold and silver chinking and ringing beneath her long paws so like great, articulated hands but without thumbs. Extending her right paw; long, lean, and tipped with black claws hard as adamant, she set it on the polished floor that lay beyond the margin of her hoard. With her eyes locked on Ascilius, she pressed her gleaming black claws deep into the floor, as if the stone was no more than soft clay. When she drew her paw slowly and effortlessly backward, there was an explosion of tortured rock. With sharp popping, cracking sounds, stone fragments flew into the air before rattling back down to the floor. When Eboria’s foot ceased to move, all three of the companions could see inches deep furrows in the smooth stone floor.
“Empty words my little friend,” Eboria said in a voice dripping with contempt. “But come now,” she said, changing her tone to one of warm welcome, as if greeting old friends. “This is no way for a guest to behave.”
“Guest!” shouted Ascilius, fairly jumping up and down now in a paroxysm of rage. “This is my own city that you have broken into and despoiled!” Pinpoints of red appeared in his dark eyes, and his face darkened with anger.
Amusement showed in the Eboria’s luminous eyes. She was clearly enjoying Ascilius’s impotent anger, but Elerian was suddenly certain she was also trying to delay them, for several times, he saw her eyes flicker in the direction of the passageway leading out of the treasure chamber. Suddenly, Eboria emitted a low, rumbling roar that made the air in the chamber seem to vibrate.
“She is calling the black dragon,” thought Elerian to himself at once. She is hoping her that he will creep up behind us and trap us in the chamber.”
“Add these to your treasure hoard,” shouted Elerian suddenly.
Reaching into his pocket, he seized the two dragon scales that he had saved, flinging them across the room toward Eboria with his right hand. Shining like oiled jet, they flew across the great hall, finally clattering to the floor halfway across the chamber.
“Run!” said Elerian to Ascilius and Tonare in a soft yet penetrating voice. Ascilius instantly took to his heels, followed by Elerian and Tonare. On their left, they all heard the ringing of scattered gold and silver as Eboria emerged from her golden bed to examine the flung scales. A thunderous roar suddenly filled the huge hall, building to such a crescendo that Elerian wished that he could clap his hands over his ears. Eboria had recognized the scales and had guessed their import. When she raised her great head, her green eyes were on fire. Mad with grief and anger, she opened her jaws, sending a great plume of red flame after the three companions. Fortunately for them, they had already reached the far side of the chamber, and the flames fell short.
When Ascilius stopped short before the blank wall to the right of the tons of rubble in front of the blocked gate, Elerian turned and saw that Eboria was rushing toward them, her great, shining body covering the distance between them in great sinuous leaps. When her great maw gaped open again, Elerian instantly raised his right hand, casting a spell to contain a second wall of red flame that came roaring toward him and his two companions. He held back the worst of it, but a great wave of heat still washed over him and his companions, baking their lungs and setting their clothes to smoldering. The smell of singed hair and leather filled the air.
“She is too strong,” thought Elerian to himself. “I cannot contain her fires as I did those of the black dragon. We will all three of us die here, trapped in this stony corner.”
Barely thirty feet away, Eboria came to a sudden stop, for her first unreasoning anger had passed.
“Where will you run to now?” she asked Elerian, a promise of endless torments in her fiery eyes. His back to the dragon, Ascilius suddenly spoke a word of command in Corach. A hidden door, briefly outlined in gleaming silver silently swung open in front of him. As Tonare leaped through the doorway, Ascilius reached back with his powerful right arm, wrapping it around Elerian’s waist and snatching him up as if he weighed nothing at all. Elerian felt himself fly through the air as Ascilius made a mighty leap. Then, a door suddenly slammed shut in front of him. The last thing he saw before the door closed was the look of consternation and baffled anger that filled Eboria’s green eyes as her prey vanished in front of her. Despite her close inspection of the hall, she had never suspected that there might be a hidden door near the back gate.
After setting Elerian down on his feet, Ascilius lit a small mage light.
“Run,” he shouted to his two companions before fleeing fleetly down the passageway before him.
As Elerian and Tonare followed him, a fearful, furious pounding erupted behind them. The door to the tunnel erupted inwards sending shards of rock whizzing past them. Dust rained down as cracks formed in the ceiling. With a rumbling, splintering sound, the ceiling of the passageway nearest the entrance gave way, sealing the tunnel.
With the collapse of the tunnel, the pounding suddenly stopped. The only sounds that came to Elerian’s ears now were the soft pad of Tonare's muffled feet on the stone of the tunnel floor and the heavier patter of Ascilius's bare feet.
“She has sealed us in here,” said Ascilius, panting slightly from the effort of running at such a furious pace. “We must reach the exit before she leaves the city or she will trap us here in this tunnel.”
With their lives hanging on the outcome of their grim race, the three companions fled up the passageway which inclined upward to the right in a tight spiral. Eventually, the tunnel ended abruptly before a blank wall. Elerian was not at all surprised when Ascilius said, “There is another door here. It opens onto a hidden path leading to the upper levels of the outer fortress. I do not know what we will find on the other side, so be prepared for trouble.”
Despite their need to hurry, they paused for a moment to put their boots back on. Elerian also removed Tonare’s improvised boots. As Ascilius settled his shield on his arm and took a firm grip on his hammer, Elerian, acting on a sudden impulse, strung his bow. Taking one of the arrows he had made in Ascilius’s forge room from his quiver, he held it ready in his right hand, the tracery of argentum inlaid in the steel head gleaming faintly.
Ascilius raised his eyebrows at Elerian’s choice of a weapon, but he said nothing. Turning to the blank wall of stone, he cast an opening spell, and a hidden door swung inward, flooding the dark tunnel with weak sunlight light. Blinking his eyes at the sudden change from dark to light, Elerian saw a small, grass covered clearing ringed by high rock walls and brush beyond the entryway. It was evening, for dark shadows were already starting to lengthen across the meadow, advancing from the west.
&nbs
p; After extinguishing his mage light, Ascilius took a long look around, but nothing moved in the sky or around the small clearing. Cautiously, he stepped out of the tunnel, followed by Elerian and Tonare. The dentire sniffed the air, but did not give any alarm.
“We will follow that path,” said Ascilius softly to Elerian, pointing with Fulmen at a narrow path overhung by rock walls and trees that was barely visible on the other side of the meadow. Elerian stood uneasily by Ascilius’s left side, holding his bow in his left hand as the Dwarf closed the door to the hidden tunnel, for their escape seemed too easy to him. When he followed Ascilius and Tonare across the clearing, Elerian heard a sudden rattle of rocks to his left. As Tonare barked a warning, a huge, horned head raised itself above the wall of rock screening the side of the clearing. Turning his head to his left, Elerian, found himself looking into the furious, green eyes of Eboria. Long ago, she had noticed the meadow and the faint trail that led away from it toward the castella. Guessing that the three companions might appear there, she had streaked through the city and out through the front gates. After flying around to the north side of Geminus, she had landed and waited out of sight until the three companions entered the clearing.
“Here you are,” she said angrily, “sneaking around right where I expected you. You are all three murderers and thieves, and you will not escape me this time!”
Quick as thought, Elerian raised his bow. At the same instant that he loosed his arrow, Ascilius bravely rushed toward Eboria with his shield and hammer held high, shouting, “Run, Elerian!” Roaring his great war cry, Tonare followed at his heels.
Distracted by Ascilius’s shout, Eboria looked his way. Slight though the movement was, it was enough to spoil Elerian’s arrow shot. Instead of striking Eboria in the right eye, his arrow point, argentum flashing white, skimmed across the bony orbit of her eye where the scales were small and thin, slicing deeply through her flesh before burying itself beneath her thick hide near her right horn. When she felt the excruciating, unaccustomed pain from the injury, Eboria threw up her head, uttering a bellow of pain and rage that caused the leaves on the bushes surrounding the clearing to tremble. A puff of smoke arose from her wound as the arrowhead was consumed, the small amount of spell laden argentum in the steel proving insufficient to resist her hot blood. The rowan shaft of the arrow fell away, its end burning, and a stream of black blood gushed from the wound the missile had left behind, spilling into Eboria’s right eye.