Taerak's Void (Fantastica Book 1)

by M. R. Mathias

  Braxton realized he hadn't seen or heard anything from or about his would-be killer since he'd gone to bed the night before. He pondered this as the crew heaved on the oars pulling them closer and closer to the dock.

  Unable to fathom where the crew had moved Gizzen Blath, he asked one of the rowers.

  "What did the captain do with the assassin?"

  "Late yester eve, after the big moon was high, he asked me capn' for quarter." The crewman grunted and made another pull, his grin full of mischief. "The cap'n granted his request and let him go."

  "Let him go?" Braxton didn't understand.

  "Sure did," said one of the other rowers, joining the conversation. "Told him he be free to go wherever he liked."

  "Well where did he decide to go?" Braxton still didn't grasp it.

  "I don't rightly know.” The first rower smirked and scratched his head between pulls. "But the last time I seen him, he was a heading for the bottom."

  The crew all laughed then, partially at Braxton's naivety, and partly at the fact that the assassin had been tossed overboard. The rower he'd initially asked nodded at him and said, "This one `ent so quick after all." And the crew laughed all the harder.

  Braxton felt his face flush, but instead of succumbing to embarrassment, he reached into his collar and pulled out his medallion.

  "By the power of the heavens and the earth,” he pulled his arm out from around Nixy's shoulder and pointed at the man who'd teased him, "I command you to be a cricket."

  The sailor leapt from the boat so fast that Braxton couldn't stop him. The rest of the rowers had frozen in fear, but after seeing their mate splashing about, not as a cricket, but a frightened man, they erupted into another fit of riotous laughter.

  The sound of their mirth was so loud that it caused a cloud of the black and white birds to burst from the nearby shoreline when there wasn't even a wave in sight.

  The elf that helped Nixy from the longboat was small framed and thin, with long flowing silvery hair. His ears were pointed sharply at the top and he moved with a noticeable grace.

  "M'lady," he'd said when he extended his hand for her to take. Braxton was surprised to feel a twinge of jealousy at the warm smile she gave him. The fact that her eyes never left his irked him.

  When Braxton climbed onto the dock, he saw what had drawn her gaze. The elves eyes were yellow, where a human’s might be blue, green, or brown, as Nixy's eyes were. To his relief, she found his side quickly and slid her arm around his waist.

  The tallest of the elves stepped forward. "Lord Braxton, M'lady, accommodations are being readied for you, though they might not be what you humans are used to."

  All the elves stared at Braxton with a strange look of what might be awe or maybe even apprehension, he couldn't tell. He started to feel a bit self-conscious, but then realized that he'd forgotten to put the medallion back under his collar after jesting with the crewman.

  Remembering who he was, and what he was about, he drew on the lessons his mother had taught him. Raising his chin proudly, he said, "Thank you for receiving us so kindly. I am certain we will be comfortable. A blanket on the forest floor is what we are used to as of late."

  The tension seemed to evaporate then, and the expressions of the elves seemed to turn to something akin to satisfied amusement.

  The taller elf nodded. "I am Akavias. You can follow me."

  Akavias led them up a heavily wooded trail that only an experienced woodsman would have been able to pick out. It was obvious to Braxton that Akavias was going slower than he was used to. Braxton thought the elf might be able to run through this vegetation as swiftly and silently as a fleet deer. It showed in the way he ducked the lower limbs and sidestepped a shrub without even causing the leaves to shudder. The elf was clearly more comfortable in this element than he'd been on the dock.

  "What part of the island does the dragon reside?" Braxton asked curiously.

  Akavias stopped in his tracks and turned. His animalistic yellow eyes were suddenly unnerving. "The dragon stays where it pleases, I suppose." His words seemed heated. "Where this one came from, and why it chose this island is beyond me. But it is here now and my people are at a loss on how to treat it. One attack could be devastating to our fragile population."

  "How long has he been here?" Nixy asked.

  "No more than a turn of the Great Moon." Akavias sighed and resumed their passage. "And it is no he. It is they, for she has a hatchling in her nest, and according to all our lore, a mother wyrm with a hatchling to feed is the most dangerous sort or creature there is. Worse, our scouts say the hatchling is curious and will no doubt eventually find its way to our part of the island."

  He shrugged and looked at Braxton over his shoulder as if he might provide some solution. Braxton twisted his mouth, trying to take in everything the day had brought him. More prominent in his mind than all the wonder, was the amazing fact that Nixy had shown her interest in him as more than a road companion.

  "Were it a rogue male, or even a childless female wyrm," Akavias continued. "We would harass it until it left, but to disturb a mother with young goes against all our beliefs. Even when it is a dragon."

  "But isn't the island sinking." Braxton quickly corrected his question. "I mean isn't the sea rising around it?"

  "It is, and that is another of our many problems here."

  "If that is so," Nixy said. "Then why not relocate. Sooner or later your people will have to do so or drown. Just leave the island to the dragon."

  "That, m'lady, is the touchiest of subjects and is debated heatedly on a daily basis." He stopped and extended his hand. "Here we are. Your quarters."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Akavias was correct when he said the accommodations were unlike anything either Braxton or Nixy were used to. The moment they passed beneath the intricate vine-woven archway, they were in awe.

  "The dwarves could not tell us the status of your acquaintance, m'lady," Akavias said. He looked from her to Braxton and quickly back to her. "They told us that you shared quarters on the ship." He blinked his big yellow eyes and gave a slight apologetic nod. "We have little to offer, but if you desire a separate sleeping arrangement then it will only take a moment."

  "This is fine," Nixy said with a grateful smile and turned a slow dreamy circle, taking in the sheer beauty of the natural forest formed room.

  "The feast will begin after sunset.” Akavias' welcoming tone shifted to that of a mild warning. "Please, remain in this area until someone comes for you." He indicated a small basin pooled with water that trickled continuously down the side of a large tree. "There is fresh water for washing and light refreshment." He pointed at a bowl of fresh fruit and a decanter full of liquid resting on the wide, low-hanging limb of another large tree. "You have time, I think, to rest and refresh yourselves. If you have need of anything further, just call out for me and I will attend you." With that, he bowed gracefully out of the archway and was gone.

  Nixy busied herself in her pack in front of the basin while Braxton inspected walls, which were naught but intermingled limb and leaf, all alive and healthy. Bigger branches were covered by fat, draping, rope-like vines whose leaves were twice the size of a man's open hand. The room had no geometric shape to it, but it was roughly square. The floor was covered in soft grassy turf. The ceiling, if it could be called that, was formed with lightly woven branches that reached across the open space to meet and mingle with those from the opposite side. They were thin enough that the evening light penetrated in the middle. No lantern was necessary, but Braxton saw one hung from a long leathery thong over the table-like limb that held refreshments. Braxton figured the lantern was hung in such a way as to keep its heat from singeing the leaves or bark of any vegetation.

  Braxton turned and was about to make a comment to Nixy about something or another, but forgot everything, including his own name, when he saw her.

  She stood naked with her back to him by the edge of the pool and was patting dry her lightly tanned ar
ms and shoulders with a cloth. The firmness of her pale, well-shaped arse caused an immediate reaction, and he had to turn away. He sat until he knew she was dressed, but even after she dawned clean clothes, it was hard to keep his desire in check.

  She wore high soft boots and tight-fitting doeskin pants, with a silky white sleeveless blouse that was cut deeply at the neck. It was cinched tightly above her waist with her sword belt. Her hair was wet, dark, and framed her rosy-cheeked face perfectly.

  "Don't strain your eyeballs, Lord Braxton," she chimed merrily. She was happy and seemed to be glowing. Braxton couldn't deny that she was very, very beautiful.

  "You will find fresh clothes in your pack.” She chuckled. "I took the liberty of washing them when you were sick on the ship."

  "Thank you," he said, trying to divert his eyes from her, but it was hard to keep them away.

  A sly smile crept across her face. "We couldn't have them smelling as they were, could we."

  Braxton felt nervous for he had to wash himself before putting on his clean clothes, and he was sure that with her in the room he wouldn't be able to hide his desire. Modestly, and flushing with embarrassment, he strung up his blanket as a curtain and stripped down behind it. He washed thoroughly but quickly, only to glance over his shoulder at Nixy's frequent giggles coming from the other side.

  After he finished, he dressed. He also wore knee high boots over his britches and, over his shirt, he fastened the fancy cloak Davvy had insisted he buy back in Uppervale. It had been hidden in the bottom of his pack and was crumpled and wrinkled, but after noisily shaking it out a few times, it looked good enough. He decided to wear his medallion out and plainly visible so he left his collar unlaced. After shaking the water out of his long brown hair, he brushed it back over his head. When he finally stepped around the blanket for Nixy's inspection, he was glad to see the grin on her face broaden.

  "You clean up well enough, Brax.” She nodded. "And you didn't have to put up that curtain. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

  He was sure there was no way possible to explain the need for the curtain without making an arse of himself. How could he tell her that he wasn't ashamed of his body, but that parts of it had a mind of their own. He was saved from responding by Akavias's light cough at the entryway.

  The feast took place in a large open clearing illuminated by torches mounted on poles set around a large stone table. Already seated were a dozen regal looking elves, none of which looked to be any older than Braxton was. The females were exotically beautiful and scantily dressed in sheer white gowns, but their smaller size, pointed ears, and feral yellow eyes kept Braxton's thoughts from wandering.

  The men were dressed in brightly colored silk gowns that were held tightly about the waist by thick leather belts. Braxton saw the finely worked silver hilts of the long daggers they wore and doubted their purpose was merely ceremonial.

  Only four places were empty at the table. Those already seated grew quiet as he and Nixy approached. Akavias announced them as Lord Braxton and Lady Nixalia of the Kingdom of Narvoza, and after they were seated, talk quickly resumed.

  Braxton realized immediately that there were no dwarves present yet, the final two seats must be for them, he decided, but before the thought completed itself, Akavias' voice boomed in announcement.

  "I present Darblin Rockheart, first prince of the Dwarven kingdom, and his brother Gruval Rockheart."

  The elves at the table stood. Braxton and Nixy followed suit. Prince Darblin, Braxton thought? On the ship, he seemed like a pitiful wretch, but when Darblin entered the torchlight, Braxton couldn't even imagine it was the same person he'd been sailing with.

  Darblin was clean and wearing a jewel-studded crown atop his, now well-groomed, light brown colored hair. His beard had been braided and tied with a blue leather band that matched the robe he wore. His brother, Gruval, followed. He was dressed the same, only his crown was considerably smaller, and his hair was a darker shade of brown than his older brother.

  Nixy shivered excitedly and grabbed Braxton's hand as they all sat back down. Everyone politely ignored the slight trouble the dwarves had climbing up into the taller elf-sized seats. A sweet honey flavored wine was served, and its potency helped clear away the differences between the three races. It was awkward, however, for a few of the younger elves had never seen humans before, and even fewer had seen dwarves. It was clear neither of the dwarves had ever met elves, either. Still, it wasn't long until first Prince Darblin was joking loudly and causing his brother Gruval much distress and embarrassment.

  Braxton avoided conversation throughout the tasty feast of roasted goat and boiled vegetables. He only spoke when he was spoken to, and then, he answered as briefly as possible.

  Nixy, however, chatted away with the curious elven women about fashion, children, and other things. For a long time, Braxton listened while they spoke about the vast number of human orphans, for it was a subject that Nixy knew a lot about.

  More than once, Darblin and Braxton met gazes and shared a silent exchange of urgency and worry that was lost on the others. It was during one of these brief exchanges that Braxton realized Darblin's drunken obnoxious behavior was mostly an act. An official counsel of matters was set for the following morning. Braxton drank sparsely and tried to carry himself in a manner that conveyed the gravity of his presence to those elves who seemed to be paying attention.

  Over the course of the evening, it became clear that the elf called Pranthias was the leader. The other elves deferred to him and his opinions. The only elf bold enough to voice opposition was named Thaelos. As the night wore on, Braxton began to like Thaelos's attitude toward the others. He was the only elf who didn't seem to look down on humanity as inferior. Nothing was ever said outright but hints about short-lived humans and their many imperfections were implied subtly and often.

  Braxton couldn't understand this smug, superior outlook. How could these frail little elves who lived hidden on a tiny island, and were dependent on human-raised livestock that was carried to them by human-made, and human-manned ships, think they were superior? Braxton tried not to let it bother him and noticed Thaelos was embarrassed by some of the opinions of his race. A clue to the nature of their attitude revealed itself when Braxton overheard Pranthias say that at only a hundred and forty-three years old, Thaelos was too young to understand very much. Braxton remembered Master Bee saying that some of the elves that had made the original journey from Scarlee to Narvoza might still be alive. As Braxton restudied what he thought was middle-aged dinner company, he found a depth of intelligence and gathered knowledge in the wild yellow eyes of some of those gathered around him.

  "What brings you to us, Lord Braxton?" Pranthias asked. Braxton didn't even hear him, and it was only Nixy's insistent elbow at his side that brought him out of his reverie.

  "I'm sorry," he responded, indicating he hadn't heard the question.

  "I asked what brings you to the Isle of Jolin?"

  Braxton found himself peeved at Pranthias's tone, and he looked to Darblin, who nodded for him to tell them why. "Well, Sir Pranthias," Braxton hoped the title was appropriate enough, "I have come to seek the aid of the elves in stopping the demon Pharark from destroying the world." Braxton couldn't resist adding, "The world of both humans and elves."

  This seemed to take Pranthias down a notch or two and silenced the entire gathering. Prantius squinted his hard, yellow eyes and cocked his head a bit, as if he was searching carefully for his next words. "Then we will speak in earnest on the morrow." His words held a noticeable amount of respect this time. "If you'll excuse me, I must take my rest. My body is almost as old as your kingdom."

  Everyone at the table rose except for Darblin and Gruval. Braxton only barely raised himself off his seat. When everyone else sat back down, Braxton whispered something into Nixy's ear, and then excused himself. Only Thaelos and the dwarves acknowledged he left.

  The relative darkened silence of the forest night was illuminated by an explo
sive fiery blast, and then shattered by an angry screech that was so loud that every soul on the island had to have been torn from slumber by it. Braxton and Nixy both sat up as more screeches, a low guttural growl, and a deep thumping sound continued from high overhead. Braxton didn't want to violate the rules the elves had made by leaving their area unattended, but he had to know what was happening above. He thought about it a moment then, just as a white crackling explosion of light filled the sky, he sprang up into the lower branches of one of the trees that formed he and Nixy's room. It took a moment to find a place in the flimsy upper branches where he could see out and up, but he did.

  A flame shot across the sky, and for a fleeting instant, it reflected off the shiny blue-scaled side of a swiftly moving dragon. Another horrendous screech ripped through the night. It was followed by a second crackling white blast that lit the sky and briefly illuminated another dragon. This one was red and not quite as big as the blue one. But in that moment, it looked easily as fierce.

  The sky went dark again, but only for a moment. Wicked orange flames shot from the red dragon's maw and it clawed out. The blue wyrm shifted slightly over the flames and slashed across the red's back and fore shoulder, near where it's wing met its body. The sound that followed was loud and full of anguish. There was a ripping sound followed by another streak of crackling white lightning. The jagged streak of power had come from the blue dragon. And by the way the red wyrm's head was smoldering, the battle was over.

  The last thing Braxton saw before the sky went dark again was the red dragon flailing its one good wing as it fell from the sky.

  A triumphant roar resounded then, and then the sound of a thousand trees snapping under the weight of the crashing red wyrm filled the night and shook the very ground. For a long time after, the island was completely silent. Even the ocean didn't dare make a sound.

  Braxton was sure it was some sort of territorial battle, and he wondered if the blue dragon had taken any wounds. After being told she had a hatchling earlier, he couldn't help but worry now. He wondered if the hatchling was the one he'd seen splash down in the river before he'd met Nixy. It didn’t seem likely. Could it survive if it's mother didn't? He tried not to think about such things as he climbed back down into the room. But the idea of a baby dragon starving to death because it's mother couldn't feed it filled him with concern.