Cloak & Dagger: Book II of The Dragon Mage Trilogy

by Carey Scheppner

  The thief headed for the port to make arrangements to sail to Warral. The mountains to the north were where the lizardmage had said he was headed. That was as good a place as any to begin his search.

  Then a thought occurred to him. He still had the ring the lizardmage had given him. It was worth a shot. He rubbed the ring, and sure enough, the scene before him changed. The island and the Tower of Sorcery disappeared, to be replaced by a sheer granite cliff. The elf instinctively took a step back and nearly lost his balance. Carefully, he looked down - way down. The landscape below was swallowed up in mist. He examined the precarious ledge he was standing on and gulped. Down was not an option. He checked above and to either side for an exit but found none. His ledge was the only safe place to stand.

  Alric grit his teeth. Where was he? Where could he go? He rubbed the ring again but nothing happened. Its magic was spent. Now what? He was just beginning to despair when he spotted a narrow opening in the rock face to his left. It was hard to reach but not impossible. He was still agile enough to make the jump over to the spot. What lay beyond he did not know, but he knew staying put was futile.

  With a mighty lunge, the elf sprang across the gap and landed at the crevice entrance. With a short cry of victory, he pulled himself to his feet and stared into the opening. Just as he thought! The crevice was an entrance to a tunnel! Without looking back, Alric strode into the tunnel. Elves normally hated caves and tunnels, preferring open air and trees, but Alric wasn’t afraid. He was equipped with an invisibility cloak, his pack still contained enough supplies for a time, and his keen eyesight quickly adapted to the darkness. Besides, he had a score to settle with a certain lizardmage. Nobody had ever gotten the better of him, and the fact that a lizardmage had used him was unsettling. It was time to turn the tables.

  Chapter 4

  He’s right ahead of us!” hissed Lynch. He ran faster and heard the others keep pace. The light at the end of the tunnel started to dim as the seven lizardmen rounded the bend.

  “There he is!” cried Lynch. He pointed at the bright orange-red figure, which was in view for only a moment before rounding another bend. “Hurry!”

  Lizardmen are not known for their running ability. A short run was one thing, but these lizardmen had been running for more than five minutes, all the while losing ground to their quarry. The long run was taking its toll on Lynch, and before they reached the end of the underground passageway, his legs buckled and he crashed headlong onto the ground. His six companions tumbled unceremoniously on top of him.

  A muffled oath sounded from beneath the pile. With some difficulty, the gasping lizardmen disentangled themselves and rose to their feet.

  Lynch’s face was savage as he looked down the passageway. The red glow of the figure ahead of them had vanished. “You idiots!” growled Lynch. “You let him get away!”

  Another lizardman spoke up. “You didn’t exactly help!”

  Lynch spun on the speaker. “You were supposed to paralyze him! Why didn’t you do that?”

  “I tried,” said the lizardman. “The spell didn’t work.”

  “I told you so,” said a third lizardman.

  Lynch spun on the third lizardman, who continued, “Elementals are immune to magic. You’re wasting your time trying to catch him using magical means.”

  Lynch was about to respond when he thought better of it. Instead, he said, “Shut up, Lyrr.”

  Lyrr leered, his unusually long snout bristling with long, pointed teeth.

  Lynch frowned and shook his head. One could never tell when Lyrr was leering. His name was certainly appropriate.

  “What happened to the vial?” asked Lyrr, his ‘leer’ vanishing.

  Lynch pulled the vial from his pouch. “Right here.” He looked at the clear fluid inside the vial and shook it. “There doesn’t seem to be any change.”

  “Do you think it got hot enough?” asked another lizardman.

  “You can count on it,” said Lynch. “I called upon the forces of fire to heat that fire pit to its extreme limit.”

  “And called up the fire elemental while you were at it,” smirked Lyrr.

  Lynch looked at Lyrr. “That was merely a side effect.”

  Lyrr shrugged and then grinned. “It must have been awfully hot. Even the fire elemental couldn’t stand the temperature!”

  “Come on,” growled Lynch savagely. He started back the way they had come. “We’ve got several more tests to perform. We don’t have time for joking around.”

  The other lizardmen followed Lynch, and Lyrr looked after them for a moment in the dim tunnel. Once again, he wondered why he was the only one with a sense of humour.

  * * * * *

  Tyris risked a look over his shoulder. The orange glow from his body revealed nothing. His pursuers had given up the chase. He slowed to a walk and caught his breath. He didn’t know why he had been summoned from the fire pit, but knew it was for no good reason. Lizardmen were devious and foolhardy, and he wasn’t about to stick around to find out what they had planned for him. It was fortunate they had tried to stop him with magic. With the exception of summoning - a skill Tyris had thought long forgotten - elementals were immune to magic.

  When the lizardmage had cast a spell intending to make the lava hotter, he had inadvertently summoned Tyris himself. Appearing in the pit, Tyris had noticed that the lizardmen had a long chain with a glass vial dangling from it. They had been holding it above the surface of the lava, obviously trying to heat whatever was inside the vial. When the lizardmen had seen the fire elemental, they had cried out to each other, and one lizardman - the one casting the summoning spell – had pulled the vial up from the pit while the others tried to capture Tyris. A nearby tunnel was Tyris’ only escape route and he had run as fast as his fiery legs could carry him. He felt magical spells being cast his way but had ignored them. A long chase ensued but he had managed to outrun his would-be captors.

  “Now what?” mumbled Tyris. He had been summoned from his home in the fire pit. Now he was in human form somewhere inside a mountain. He looked around. It had been a long time since he had explored beyond his realm. Perhaps some things had changed. Perhaps there were new things to be seen. He smiled. Yes. It was time to go exploring.

  Taking one last look back the way he had come, Tyris marched calmly down the passageway, his body throwing off heat, and more important, light to guide his way.

  * * * * *

  A few days later, while Kazin was just beginning to relax at home, a knock sounded at the door. The mage answered it and received a scroll from a messenger. He thanked the messenger, went over to the fireplace, and sat down. He opened the letter and began to read. His expression became more serious as he read.

  “What is it?” asked Della, who sat across from him watching his expression change. “Who is it from?”

  Kazin spoke without looking up. “It’s from the tower. Apparently something has gone wrong at the tower but they don’t specify what it is. It happened during the latest gathering of master and arch mages. They want me to go to the nearest tower and contact them at once.”

  Della groaned. “Can’t they let you have some time off? They’re working you to death!”

  “I know,” said Kazin dejectedly. “But this time it must be something serious. The letter is signed by Arch Mage Fildamir.”

  “Why didn’t Arch Mage Krendal sign the letter?” asked Della. “He’s usually the one who contacts you for your assignments.”

  “That’s what has me worried,” said Kazin. “If something happens to Krendal, Fildamir is the next in line to take charge. He’s older than any of the other arch mages, and next to Krendal, he’s been an arch mage the longest.”

  “So you think the letter is about Krendal?” asked Della.

  “Perhaps,” said Kazin. “I’ll have to go to the Tower of the Stars to find out.”

  “I’m coming with you,” said Della firmly.

  Kazin looked up at his wife sharply. “What for?”

&nbs
p; “I’m tired of moping around at home alone for weeks on end,” said Della. “I’d rather be gone with you. Besides, Krendal might seem like a sinister, bad-tempered old man to most people, but I like him. I’m coming and that’s final.” The elf looked directly into Kazin’s eyes and defied him to argue.

  Kazin grinned in spite of himself. “Well, O.K.,” he conceded. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if you came along this time.”

  Della nodded satisfactorily. Her expression was serious. “Fine. I’ll start packing.”

  The next morning, Kazin cast an enchantment on their house to prevent any intruders from entering. Della informed the elven patrols to keep an eye on their house as an additional precaution. Then the dragon and his elven passenger sped across the Bay of Barlin. They arrived just east of Star City in the evening of the same day and landed in the courtyard of the Tower of the Stars.

  The tower was high up on the mountainside overlooking the city to the west and the Bay of Barlin to the south. From here, one could view the islands far out on the horizon. These were the islands of Ten Star Reef, a dangerous place for most ships to navigate around.

  As for the city, it was a large, bustling port, with buildings and warehouses lining the shore. Just behind them were row upon row of shops of all kinds. Residential buildings extended beyond these to give way to the fields of farmers. These tracts of land were neatly arranged and looked like giant green squares in a checker board design. Just below the tower were the houses of wealthier merchants who preferred to live above the city and away from the working class. Long gravel roads wound down the mountainside connecting the tower to the city. The setting sun bathed the city in a pleasant red hue and Della and Kazin lingered for a moment to take in the sight.

  Some young mages came out of the tower and watched in awe as the elf disembarked and the dragon transformed from a giant reptile into a young, ordinary human. As Kazin approached, they quickly gave way when they saw the insignia on his cloak and realized that he was an arch mage.

  “I wish I could do that,” said one mage after Kazin had passed.

  “Don’t be silly,” said another mage. “Only arch mages can transform into a dragon.”

  “You’re wrong,” said third mage. “You have to have a dragon orb to do that.”

  “How do you know?” asked the first mage.

  “I read it in the library.”

  “Interesting!” said a fourth mage.

  The mages watched in fascination as Kazin and Della disappeared inside the tower.

  The mage and elf passed numerous paintings in the halls displaying scenes of battles that were fought generations ago. Many of them graphically portrayed close ups of dragons that fought each other and spewed their fire onto the forces on the ground. Even after all these years, their colours and images were crisp and clear.

  Benjamin, a middle-aged master mage entrusted with the undertakings of the Tower of the Sky, came down a set of stairs and saw them at once. When he recognized Kazin, he smiled and opened his arms in greeting. He welcomed the two visitors enthusiastically and immediately led them to the orb room, where communication between the various towers was possible.

  The orb room was simple, with a small table, an ordinary wooden chair, and a small pedestal on the table containing a clear, crystal orb. Benjamin magically activated the orb and a young, dark haired master mage appeared within its depths.

  “Oh - Hi!” he stammered abruptly when he saw Benjamin and Kazin within his orb in the Tower of Sorcery.

  “Good evening,” said Benjamin. “Please go and fetch Arch Mage Fildamir.”

  “Y-Yes, Sir,” said the young mage. He disappeared from view. A few minutes later Arch Mage Fildamir appeared. His expression was serious and his face was pale and drawn. When Kazin had last seen him, he was tall and proud, and he had a magical aura that one could almost sense whenever he was around. Now he looked frail and feeble.

  “Fildamir!” exclaimed Kazin. “You look awful!”

  “Hello, Kazin,” said Fildamir. He coughed. “I’ll wager I look better than I feel.”

  “What’s wrong?” asked Kazin. “Where’s Krendal?”

  “He’s sleeping at the moment,” said Fildamir. “He’s suffering from the same deadly illness that has taken the lives of nine master mages so far.”

  Della, who stood nearby, gasped in horror.

  “So far?” pressed Kazin.

  “Yes,” said Fildamir. “Almost everyone who was at our latest gathering is suffering from this illness, including me. Someone has managed to poison our food, and the clerics are helplessly trying to find a cure. We tried to isolate which foods it was that caused this outbreak, but without success.” Fildamir coughed again. “You’re fortunate that you didn’t show up, Kazin.”

  “Is this illness inevitably fatal?” asked Kazin with obvious concern.

  Fildamir nodded. “Everyone who was affected continues to weaken, and some have even lost consciousness. No one has reported an improvement in their health. This illness is deadly, and time grows short to find a cure.”

  “Cure,” murmured Kazin. “You say the clerics are working to find a cure?”

  “Yes,” said Fildamir. “But their efforts haven’t paid off yet. I’ve even contacted Arch Mage Valdez in the north in the hopes that the clerics and druids up there can help.”

  North of the Old Dwarven Mountains was a land of humans and barbarians. This land was physically cut off from the rest of the human lands by the mountains. The mountains were impassable unless one could fly, and only a few magical portals connected the two realms. Kazin was the only human who was able to activate the portals, and work was being done to try to find other ways to bridge that gap. Arch Mage Valdez was an advisor to the queen of that region, and had accompanied Kazin on his previous quest in order to get to this new land. Now he was trapped there, by his own choosing. As for the queen herself, she was a druid, who had also helped Kazin on the previous quest. With magic new to the realm, the new queen, called Milena, had put in place a number of academies which determined whether any of the northern residents could cast spells related to white or grey magic. White magic was healing and defensive in nature, while grey magic was a combination of black and white magic, with black magic being offensive in nature. Grey magic was more versatile, but was considerably weaker than either white or black magic by themselves. Having skill with the different and more powerful magic of druids, the queen had also attempted to find anyone who could cast the magic of druids, but that was unsuccessful. After a decade of work, she had succeeded in finding a sizeable number of individuals who could cast white or grey magic. Most of them had the ability to cast the magic of grey mages, but amazingly, some of those people could even do some of the rudimentary druid spells as well, with limited strength, which was common to grey magic. So the training began in earnest, and Milena had made sure to have them trained in the druid magic whenever possible.

  “What do you want me to do?” asked Kazin.

  “You and Valdez are the only remaining arch mages that are not affected by this poison,” said Fildamir. “That means that you and he must continue to run the mage guild if we fail to survive. I want you close should it come to that. However, we’re not dead yet, so in the meantime I want you to go to the Tower of Hope to assist the clerics there in finding a cure. Keep in close contact with Valdez in case he comes up with anything. But whatever you do, stay away from the Tower of Sorcery. I don’t want you getting sick too. As far as we know, the illness isn’t contagious, but I’m not taking chances.”

  “I understand,” said Kazin.

  “I’ll send word to my king to send some of our healers to the Tower of Sorcery,” offered Della. “They use different herbs and techniques than your clerics do. They may be able to help.”

  Fildamir nodded. “We would appreciate any help we can get. Thank you.”

  “Then we’d better get moving,” said Kazin. “Time is of the essence.”

  “Good luck and Godspeed,�
�� said Fildamir. “Lives hang in the balance.”

  Chapter 5

  Graf chuckled as he made his way to his favourite place - his study. Some nearby lizardmen eyed the lizardmage warily but dared not interrupt the lizardmage’s thoughts. Graf was their leader, his magical prowess a symbol of his rank. The stronger the magic, the higher the rank. Graf was the strongest of the lizardmages, so he made the rules. Few openly dared to challenge Graf’s decisions unless they had the knowledge or magical skill to back up their comments. With knowledge, they could make their point without recrimination. With magical skill, they were a force to be reckoned with if their idea was unacceptable - so they wouldn’t be rebuked to any great degree.

  Ever since his brother’s death some ten years ago at the hands of the minotaurs, Graf had plotted his revenge. Not so much on the minotaurs, who were indirectly responsible for Farg’s death, but rather on the meddling humans, who had created an uprising that had resulted in the minotaurs changing sides and joining them against the lizardmen. Had that not happened, the humans would have been crushed. The human dragon mage was the one determining factor in all of that, and Graf would never forget or forgive that human for foiling his plans. Humans were the only thing standing in the way of lizardmage supremacy. If they were defeated, lizardmages could take their rightful place as the dominant species in the world. No one could stand against the superior magic of the lizardmen. The elves might resist, but without allies, their numbers were not substantial enough to face the lizardmen on their own.

  Many years prior to the last war, a disgruntled human, who had failed to become a black mage due to his penchant for practising necromancy, had wandered into the mountains and stumbled upon the dark magic of the lizardmages, along with a cracked dragon orb. He had taken the orb and several manuscripts on necromancy, and escaped the mountains to come out in a realm where the humans were not familiar with magic. With the orb’s help, reasoned Graf, the human had been able to read and study the magic in those evil tomes he had stolen. Combining that with the black magic he already knew, the human had become a powerful necromancer with the ability to raise legions of undead. Those legions he had led against the Tower of Sorcery.