Tales from the New Earth: Volume One

by Thompson, J. J.

  An enormous shadow, vague and monstrous, could be seen through the red haze of the circle in the sky. Vast wings flapped slowly and then folded close to the body and out of the Gate shot the overwhelming figure of a dragon, hurtling earthward like a gigantic bird of prey.

  Simon and Kronk exchanged looks.

  “Here we go,” the wizard said and he raised Bene-Dunn-Gal.

  Yeah, he thought. Here we go.

  Chapter 25

  The green dragon was not built the same way the black had been and Simon was taken aback slightly. It looked more serpentine, writhing in the air like a winged serpent. Its body was hundreds of feet long but narrow and snake-like, with glittering green scales the color of pond scum.

  Around the diving dragon, a toxic cloud of emerald-colored gas seemed to seep out of its body and leave a trail like smoke behind it.

  “All of you, get underground, right now!” Simon shouted at the elementals.

  They all stared at him for a moment and he made a savage gesture downward.

  “You can't help me in this. Get to safety.”

  They disappeared into the earth as one, except for Kronk, who hesitated.

  “Go, my friend,” Simon told him gently. “Just wish me luck, and go.”

  “Good luck, master,” Kronk said in a little voice and bowed before he slipped into the ground.

  Freed of all distraction, Simon watched the dragon winging toward him. When the huge body was no more than a hundred feet above the clearing, the monster extended its wings and halted its dive toward the earth, hovering on lazily flapping wings as its horned head dipped down to scan the ground beneath it.

  Simon had no idea if a dragon's vision was all that good, but he guessed that it was. Probably as keen as a hawk's, at least.

  The dragon seemed to take in the entire scene at a glance. Heather's ashes were still scattered on the ground, moving a little in the wind blowing down from the massive wings.

  It looked from side to side, perhaps looking for tricks or traps, but finally the head pointed straight down and huge yellow eyes caught Simon's own in a hate-filled gaze.

  “So you are the wizard,” roared a voice like thunder. Simon staggered at the sound, but drew himself up and held that draconic glare as best as he could.

  “I see you have destroyed my servant,” it continued, the head turning slightly to look at the ashes. “Well done. You are more powerful than you seem, I think.”

  Simon didn't answer. After all, what could he say?

  “Did she, perhaps, make you an offer before you took her life?”

  The wizard nodded silently.

  “Ah, I see. Then the answer was no, I assume. That is unfortunate. We could use a talent like yours.”

  A light whiff of chlorine slipped by Simon's face and he turned away, coughing violently. Over his head, a hissing laugh echoed down from the dragon.

  “Ah yes, I am rather difficult to approach for you little humans. My breath is rather...toxic, I believe is the word.”

  Simon waved a hand in front of his face and looked up, eyes streaming with tears.

  “That is why I have not come down to see you, tiny wizard. My very presence would mean your death. And now, we are at an impasse, aren't we? I presume you have some little surprise in store for me, a trick perhaps, like the ones you used against my sibling?”

  The dragon's gaze intensified and Simon could feel its power beating down on him.

  “Vile, ignominious, cheating way to destroy such a noble being. Instead of matching power for power, you used subterfuge to claim victory. Well, such tricks will not work on me. I am above them and I intend to stay above them.”

  My God, this thing loves the sound of its own voice, Simon thought. But he also realized something else. The dragon actually sounded cautious, nervous. Was it possible that the huge monster was afraid? Afraid of a human? He wished he could believe that.

  “Well, I have things to do, wizardling. Places to go, humans to kill. You know how it is. After all, you've just killed one yourself, haven't you?”

  The dragon chuckled deeply in its throat, a wet, satisfied sound. It was as if it could feel Simon's guilt over Heather's death and was using it against him.

  “I don't kill innocents!” Simon finally roared up at it.

  “Ah, the wizard speaks. How gratifying. You don't kill innocents, hmm? Well, neither do I. Neither do any of my kin. Your people raped and pillaged this planet for their own selfish needs. Our return has actually saved your world from you! We are not killers, we are saviors. Think on that, little one. Oh, and while you do that, allow me to give you something to pass the time. Consider it a gift, since you seem eager for battle.”

  The dragon dipped down and approached the open field. Simon raised Bene-Dunn-Gal.

  “Shield,” he barked and an opaque globe surrounded him, immediately purifying the air of the stink of chlorine and allowing him to breathe freely.

  He waited for the dragon to attack, thinking of the spells he had imbued his staff with; would any of them be effective against...that?

  But the dragon only dropped to within fifty feet of the ground, its monstrous, writhing body blocking out the sky. It seemed to shiver along its length and Simon backed up so quickly he tripped and fell over. He pushed himself back along the ground, moving like a crab on his hands and feet as he realized what was happening.

  The green dragon wasn't covered only in scales. Pieces began to flake off of its body, pieces that Simon recognized, not as scales but as drakes.

  Horrible miniature versions of the dragon, these wingless mini-dragons looked like their host but their serpentine bodies were only ten feet long. They slammed into the ground at the far end of the field and Simon pushed himself to his feet frantically, thinking of a spell he could use against the creatures.

  When a dozen drakes had been shaken loose, the dragon flapped its wings strongly and rose up again to hover at its original height, apparently watching the battle with interest.

  The drakes were slow to get to their feet, seemingly dazed from their fall from the dragon. While he had time, Simon wracked his brain for a proper defense.

  He scanned the field, looking for some sort of inspiration. A boulder, half buried and too large to have been removed by Heather, stuck out of the ground near the cottage and Simon nodded to himself.

  Good enough, he thought. I need to get off the ground for this to work.

  He raced toward the boulder, his shield moving with him, and leaped to the top of the rock. He was now about three feet off the ground and he turned just in time to see the drakes form up and move as one toward him.

  They moved like snakes, their sinewy bodies pushed along by their vestigial legs. They were hissing with the sound of high-pressure steam vents and small puffs of chlorine trailed along behind them.

  Okay, this better work, the wizard thought. If it does, I'll thank Kronk later. It was his idea, after all.

  He pointed Bene-Dunn-Gal at the ground in front of the boulder and felt the staff bite deep for its tribute of blood. With a shudder, Simon shouted, “Quicksand!”

  The ground leading from the base of his perch out toward the rapidly approaching drakes began to bubble and steam, ripples of water suddenly rising from deep underground to loosen the hard earth. The drakes either didn't notice or didn't care about the ground in front of them. They were all staring hungrily at Simon, shooting toward him like mindless missiles, their hisses rising in volume until they were almost ear-splitting.

  The swampy earth kept radiating outward, approaching the drakes who continued to race forward.

  When the snake-like monsters hit the wet, soft dirt, for a moment their momentum carried them forward and they seemed oblivious to their suddenly precarious situation.

  But dumb creatures or not, they finally realized that something was wrong.

  All of the drakes stopped moving at once and looked around in confusion. The expressions on the snaky faces was almost comical, until they trie
d to move forward again and found themselves trapped and sinking in sticky, loose mud.

  The resulting chaos was deafening. The drakes shrieked and roared. Trying to pull their limbs out of the quicksand only made them sink faster. They bit at the mud, blasted it with their poisonous breath, leaped upward as if trying to fly. But it was all useless.

  One by one, hissing, screaming, they were pulled beneath the sucking muck, their cries turning to loud bubbling and gurgling. A few moments later, all that was left were patches of foam on the wet ground and the occasional pop of a muddy bubble. The drakes were gone.

  Simon had watched impassively, but he was disgusted by the whole thing. Killing, even these evil brutes, was not something that he did lightly. When he was certain that the drakes were deep enough to remain trapped, he canceled the spell. The ground shook and cracked, drying out almost instantly until it looked arid and sere, desiccated like soil after a drought.

  He transferred his staff to his left hand and wiped the blood off of his palm. Then he switched it back to his right hand and looked up at the watching dragon.

  There were no roars of anger from the green, no immediate attacks. It didn't seem to care that Simon had just destroyed a dozen of its minions. But the wizard wasn't fooled. He remembered how enraged the primal black had been when he had killed a handful of its drakes.

  Simon squinted up at his foe. This one is tricky, he thought. Cunning. Sly. Just like a snake in the grass, it's biding its time, looking for a weakness, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

  I have to get it down to ground level for the plan to work. He grimaced to himself. If it works. Odds are I'll be smashed to jelly or get poisoned to death.

  But if he was going to exploit the monster's weaknesses, he had to get the damned thing out of the sky. Surely something with such puny legs and long body would be more awkward and clumsy on the ground.

  Simon ran his eyes along the sinewy, two hundred foot length of the dragon. It seemed to almost swim in the air currents.

  Clumsy, he said to himself with a snort. Yeah, right.

  He jumped off of the rock and moved to stand in the center of the field. Then he planted the end of Bene-Dunn-Gal firmly in the ground and whispered to it.

  “Okay, my wooden friend, I'm about to do something really, really stupid. I'm going to try to piss off a dragon. Wish me luck.”

  The staff quivered in his hand.

  “If you're calling me an idiot, I have to agree,” Simon said to it. “Okay, here goes.”

  He sucked in a deep breath and looked up at the green dragon.

  “Hey! Ugly! Are you just going to hang around all day or are you going to get on with this? I just slaughtered your little friends. Now it's your turn!”

  The massive head ducked down below the body and the dragon glared at him.

  “Are you that eager to die, little human? I was just enjoying the cooling winds up here. So refreshing after the sticky heat of my jungle home. You should be making the most of your last moments of life, should you not?”

  “And this is where I push the crazy button all the way in,” Simon muttered to himself. He jerked his staff straight up, pointed it at the green and shouted: “Fireball!”

  A blazing orb of flame streaked down from above the dragon and slammed into its left wing, knocking it to one side. It almost flipped over and, with a bellow of rage, adjusted its wings quickly to right itself again before it tumbled from the sky.

  “You dare!” it roared at him. “After all of my courtesy, you dare attack me? Very well then. Feel my wrath!”

  The green dragon flapped its huge wings faster, gaining height with tremendous speed and Simon guessed what it would do next.

  It was going to arrow down on him like a comet and smash him flat, probably breathing poisonous chlorine gas just to make sure he was dead.

  Okay, I have to keep it unbalanced, he thought frantically. He stood and watched helplessly as the dragon rose higher and higher above him. It was too far away for him to cast any spells at it.

  Thinking furiously, Simon had the germ of an idea. A crazy idea, but an idea all the same.

  He turned and ran toward the edge of the field, to the part of the now-dead barrier that he had entered through earlier. He pointed Bene-Dunn-Gal at it.

  “Magic Missile!” he yelled and searing bolts of light shot from the staff and slammed into the dried-out remains of the thorny vines.

  The missiles blasted a path through the brittle plants and bits of twigs and dust shot in all directions. Simon squinted and raised an arm to protect his eyes as he ran through the former barricade. He was covered with brown leaves and dirt as he ran, but ignored it.

  “Chief! Chief, where are you?” he shouted as he reached the far end of the destroyed barrier.

  A high-pitched neigh drew Simon to the left and, in a flurry of hooves, the stallion raced toward him, eyes bright and horns gleaming like twin daggers.

  The wizard jumped on to Chief's back and spun him around. He spared a glance up at the dragon and felt his stomach twist into knots.

  The distant green shape was descending, growing alarmingly as it shot down toward him.

  “Okay, buddy, we've gotta move!” he yelled at Chief and the stallion leapt forward, racing into the forest in the general direction of the tower.

  Simon slipped his staff over his shoulders, leaned over Chief's neck and held on for dear life.

  “I think you're smart enough to know what's going on, old friend,” he said to the horse. Chief swiveled one ear back and listened closely as he ran.

  “We need to get that bloody dragon on the ground, without being flattened first. Stay amongst the trees and keep running. It can't hit what it can't see.”

  Chief snorted and shook his head, increasing his speed as he twisted and dodged around the mature trees of the forest.

  I was right, Simon thought with a kind of grateful joy. The big guy is smarter since his Change. Now let's see how fast he is.

  Somewhere above the cover of the trees, a tremendous roar shook the air, sending a torrent of leaves fluttering across their path. The meager sunlight filtering through the thick branches was blocked out for a moment and Simon knew that the green was right above them.

  Over the pounding sound of Chief's racing hooves, the wizard heard a terrifying sound; the sound of huge lungs taking in a vast quantity of air.

  He yanked the reins hard the left and the stallion skidded violently to the side and shot off in a new direction.

  Simon reached over his shoulder and grabbed Bene-Dunn-Gal.

  “Shield,” he muttered quickly and he and the horse were surrounded by the translucent barricade.

  Just in time. A blast of withering green gas shot down from above and Simon watched in horror as the growth around him sagged and collapsed at the mere touch of the deadly substance.

  That's not ordinary chlorine gas, he thought as he urged Chief on. I think just letting it touch me would be fatal.

  The realization of how deadly the green dragon's breath weapon was made Simon rethink his plan. He had to do something even more desperate.

  “Okay, lad,” he said to Chief. “Change of plans. Head for home. You understand? Back to Tammy and Sunshine, as fast as you can run.”

  The stallion's ears perked up at the sound of his stable-mate's names. He threw up his head, whinnied loudly and turned to the right so abruptly that Simon almost flew off of his back.

  The wizard clamped his thighs as tightly as he could to Chief's body, crouched down in the saddle and let the big horse have his head. He trusted the stallion to find the fastest way home.

  Above them, the sound of huge wings faded behind them as the horse's change of direction and burst of speed threw off the attacking green.

  Simon looked up and noticed that the light was fading from the sky. Sundown was coming and he wasn't sure if that was going to help or not. His new plan didn't depend on daylight, but more on luck and some educated guesses from the research he ha
d done on dragons and their weaknesses.

  Yeah, research that depended on facts invented by fantasy game writers, he thought with some despair. I could be totally wrong about this whole thing.

  Well then, you will die, a little voice hissed at him from deep within.

  No kidding, he told that dark place that existed somewhere inside his soul. Now shut-up, I'm busy.

  Chief showed how magnificent he was that day. His powerful body drove them through the forest so fast that the trees were merely a blur. His horns began to glow with a ghostly nimbus in the darkening woods and several times Simon was sure that they had actually pass though a tree.

  The shield spell had faded away but the sounds of the raging dragon were still far behind them.

  My God, Simon thought in wonder. How fast are we moving?

  No more than twenty minutes after they had escaped into the trees, Simon and Chief burst into the open field that led to the tower.

  As they appeared, high above them came a roar of triumph. The primal green dragon had spotted them.

  Chief flew across the clearing straight toward the closed gates while Simon looked back over his shoulder.

  The dragon was shooting down out of the evening sky, the full moon behind it outlining its writhing snake body. It grew and grew as it descended to attack and the wizard turned back to look at the tower, praying that one of the elementals had seen them coming.

  His prayers, for a change, were answered, and the double gates opened wide seconds before Chief smashed through them.

  As they barreled into the front yard, the gates slammed shut and a flicker in the air confirmed that the wards had sealed off the tower again.

  Simon jumped off of the stallion and almost collapsed as his rubbery legs barely held him up. He leaned on the sweaty flank of Chief who was blowing out great gasps of breath. Foam dripped from his neck and his noble head dipped with exhaustion.

  “You were incredible, old buddy,” Simon told him with an affectionate slap on his sweaty neck.

  He turned to see Kronk hurrying toward him from the gates.