Cloak & Dagger: Book II of The Dragon Mage Trilogy

by Carey Scheppner

  General Slong rose and the speaker announced him.

  “One of my lieutenants has reported an incident,” began the general. His bronze breastplate glistened in the torchlight.

  Graf nodded. “Carry on.”

  Slong continued. “Apparently, one of the portals to the orcs’ realm has been breached.”

  Murmurs of surprise shot through the throng below. Graf stiffened in his chair. “Go on.”

  “They discovered two sentries, murdered, and went through the portal to investigate. In the orc cavern, they came upon a battle in progress between some lizardmen and numerous orcs. Reacting quickly, our troops extracted our people and returned them to our side of the portal. There were several casualties.”

  The murmurs and hisses in the crowd were starting to get too loud and Graf yelled for silence. The crowd settled down and Graf said, “Who were these lizardmen, and why were they in orc territory?”

  Slong cleared his throat. “It was a party legally in the process of tracking down the fire elemental. They were led by lizardman Lynch.”

  Graf’s eyes widened. “What! What was he trying to do?”

  Slong shook his head. “I don’t know. My lieutenant had no choice but to let him continue on his way. He had written permission to leave no stone unturned in his quest for the fire elemental.”

  Graf threw his hands up in despair. “But what does this have to do with a security breach?”

  “The sentries who were killed were killed by magic,” explained Slong. “Fireballs, to be precise.”

  “And?”

  “Numerous orcs on the other side of the portal were also killed by fire magic.”

  “I assume Lynch took them out?” asked Graf.

  “I don’t think so,” said Slong. “My lieutenant claims that Lynch and his team came upon a massacre that had already occurred. The orcs that they saw massacred in the cavern numbered in the dozens. It was as if they had been overwhelmed by an enormous inferno.”

  “The fire elemental?” hissed Graf in surprise. The crowd began to make noise again, but Graf rapped his staff on the floor to restore silence.

  “Perhaps,” said Slong. “Further investigation is hampered by the throngs of blood-thirsty orcs that are waiting in the cavern. I think they blame us for the assault.”

  Graf swore. “And you think the fire elemental has entered our realm?”

  “It’s possible,” said Slong. “That explains the dead sentries on our side of the portal.”

  Graf swore again. The crowd was becoming restless again.

  Graf rose to his feet. “Anyone who discovers the whereabouts of the fire elemental must report to a senior official as soon as possible. Slong, you increase the number of patrols and guards and bring a lizardmage along who knows how to summon a fire elemental. We can’t let one lone elemental thwart our plans.”

  “Yes, Sir,” said Slong.

  “Are the other factions of orcs aware of this incident?” asked Graf.

  Slong shook his head. “No. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Good. Make sure it stays that way. Offer the angry orcs more water and explain to them that we’re on the same side. Tell them the elemental was a last-ditch effort by the human mages to shatter our alliance.”

  “Yes, Sir,” said Slong. He hesitated. “There was one other security breach. It occurred in one of the fountain chambers.”

  “What?!” exclaimed Graf. “The fire elemental again?”

  The crowd below hissed in consternation.

  Slong shook his head. “I don’t think so. There were some fireballs cast at our people, but no one could see who fired them. Several lizardmen were killed by fireballs, and one died of a broken neck. The intruders were nowhere to be found.”

  The crowd became even noisier at this news.

  “You let them escape?!” shrieked Graf.

  “They knew how to activate our locked portals,” explained Slong hurriedly. “By the time security forces arrived, the intruders were long gone.”

  “Then double your security at once!” snapped Graf. The crowd was much too noisy by now so Graf bellowed, “Silence!”

  With relative quiet in the hall, Graf continued, “How are things with the ogres?”

  “Everything is going according to plan,” said Slong. “The ogres are preparing for the assault, as are the goblins and a contingent of cyclops.”

  “Good! I’m hoping get started soon!” Graf turned to address the crowd. “You all know what to do! Any intruders are to be neutralized at all costs! In a few days we march!”

  The crowd hissed and murmured and filed from the hall. As if in anticipation, the mountain rumbled ominously. Even Graf stumbled as he exited the council hall.

  Graf stopped at a grub depot and filled a large sack with food. The lizardwoman maintaining the stash eyed him suspiciously. She had seen him do this on several occasions, but knew better than to question him on his peculiar actions. Graf nodded at her when he was finished, and departed.

  Along the way, Graf spotted a messenger. The messengers in the lizardmen’s realm were young, energetic lizardmen and women who were anxious to serve their kind. Graf told her to summon Brind to his quarters at once. The messenger nodded and ran to do as she was ordered. A quick response would put her in a favourable light with the leader of the lizardmen.

  Arriving in his quarters, Graf crossed the room and entered his study. A hulking figure in the corner observed his approach through three sets of eyes. Graf threw the sack down in front of the hydra and sat down at his desk.

  The hydra opened the sack with two of its heads and dumped the contents on the floor. “Is that all?” exclaimed the middle head.

  “Quit complaining!” snapped Graf. “If you all shared, you wouldn’t be so hungry the next time! Besides, you’ll get plenty to eat in a few days.”

  The three heads paid no heed to the lizardmage and ate ravenously, gorging themselves as fast as their jaws could snap. Graf took the opportunity to cast a spell to clean up the mess the big creature had made. He wrinkled his nose. Soon the hydra would be sent out to aid in his plan.

  A knock sounded at Graf’s front door so he got up, left the study, and locked the study door. He set a spell to hide the sounds of the eating creature within. Then he answered his front door. It was Brind, the lizardmage who specialized in fire magic.

  “You sent word that you wanted to see me?” said Brind.

  “Come in,” said Graf.

  Brind entered and Graf offered him a chair. Then he sat down in a chair facing the fire mage. “Brind, I’m going to get right to the point. It appears that this Lynch character is unable to find the fire elemental. I want you to take charge and organize a more extensive search.”

  Brind nodded, a sly grin appearing on his lips. “Of course!”

  “I also expect you to find out who else is trespassing in our realm.”

  Brind’s smile vanished but he said nothing.

  “I don’t believe the conclusion Slong came to that the elemental breached our security alone. Elementals don’t have that kind of magic.”

  “You think someone let him in?” asked Brind.

  “Yes,” said Graf. “It was definitely a spell caster. At first I thought that idiot Lynch may have let him in by accident. He could have killed the sentries to hide his mistake.”

  “Lynch wouldn’t stoop that low, would he?” asked Brind.

  Graf shrugged. “It’s possible, but not likely. Lynch doesn’t appear to be that smart. Besides, there’s the breach in the fountain chamber to explain too.”

  “Could it have been a human?” asked Brind.

  “Perhaps,” said Graf. “So far, I don’t know of any humans or elves that know how to activate our portals. Only one human mage I know of could be capable of that magic, and I was hoping he was afflicted along with his cohorts. I don’t know for sure if he was affected, so we’ll have to be extra cautious, just in case. He is a dragon mage, with very powerful magic.”

  Bring ga
sped. “If he’s loose in our realm, he could upset all of our plans!”

  “Precisely!” said Graf. “I suggest you find a way to deal with any intruders - even if it’s not the mage that I speak of - with long range weaponry.”

  “Yes,” said Brind thoughtfully. “A dart tipped with our new poison should do nicely.”

  Graf grinned. “A devious suggestion. I like it!”

  Brind rose. “I’ll get started right away!”

  Graf rose too. “Don’t be surprised if you discover an elf in our midst.”

  “What?” Brind looked confused.

  “I know of a determined young elf who is capable of sneaking into secure locations. He is also able to make himself invisible.”

  “Someone like that could easily sneak through an open portal!” exclaimed Brind.

  Graf nodded. “I suggest you use a ‘detect magic’ spell from time to time. It will indicate the presence of an invisible magical object or activated spell. It won’t give you the exact location of an invisible person, but it will alert you to unauthorized magic in your vicinity.”

  Brind nodded. “Good idea. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.”

  After Brind left, Graf sat down. He opened a book of magic that lay on the table but couldn’t concentrate on the magical spells listed within. The puzzle of who had breached their realm nagged at him.

  Chapter 22

  Malachi eyed the jug on the table doubtfully. “You say this stuff rejuvenated your mother?”

  “Yes!” said Jim Farnsworth excitedly. “It made her strong enough to get out of bed! I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it!”

  “Is she cured?” asked Malachi.

  “Well, not exactly,” admitted Jim. “The effect only lasts for several hours.”

  “Then what?” asked Malachi.

  “Then she reverts to her original condition. When she starts to become weak, I offer her more of the ale and in an hour or so she’s up and at it again.”

  Malachi looked over at General Larsen, who sat at the table with them. “What do you think about this?”

  “At first I was skeptical too,” said Larsen. “Lieutenant Farnsworth convinced me to let him give some to one of my ill soldiers. That particular soldier was bed-ridden for nearly a week, but this ale gave him the energy to get out of bed and perform some menial tasks. He was as drunk as a sailor, but the very fact that he was out of bed tells me to give that concoction some consideration.”

  “What is it made of, Lieutenant?” asked Malachi.

  “According to my father, it contains fermented wildhorn leaves. A dwarven friend of his made it from an ancient recipe.”

  “Wildhorn leaves, eh?” said Malachi thoughtfully. “We have some of those leaves in our inventory and have tried them for healing this illness, without success. We never tried them when they were fermented, though.”

  “Fermented in dwarven spirits,” reminded Jim.

  “Yes,” said Malachi, nodding thoughtfully.

  “A partial cure is better than no cure at all,” said Larsen.

  “I agree,” said Malachi, “but I have a problem with a bunch of intoxicated people running around.”

  “I would sooner be drunk than dead,” said Larsen.

  “We don’t know if it prevents anyone from dying,” argued Malachi.

  “It doesn’t help to reduce abdominal pain either,” said Jim. “My mother said the pain was still present even though she could walk around. She did say that the more ale she drank, the less she noticed the pain, however.”

  “Undoubtedly,” said Malachi sternly. After a moment, he said, “Is this all you have of this ale?”

  “Yes,” said Jim. “The dwarf who made it is making more for my father.”

  “See if you can get him to produce this ale on a larger scale,” said Malachi. “It may be the beginning of a cure, but I’ll need a lot more for study.”

  “He’ll want compensation,” warned Jim. “He is a dwarf, after all.”

  “Give him what he wants,” said Malachi. “We have money, if that’s what it takes. The money by itself is not much use for healing, but it may buy us the ingredients we need to cure thousands of afflicted people.”

  “Yes, Sir,” said Jim.

  He looked at General Larsen, who nodded. “Make haste, Lieutenant. Lives hang in the balance.”

  “Yes, Sir!” said Jim again, saluting.

  After the lieutenant departed, General Larsen asked, “What are your plans, Malachi?”

  Malachi sat back and sighed. “I’m hoping to find a cure from that dwarven ale. I never thought I’d see the day that dwarven ale would be used for healing, but I’m all out of ideas. All of our healing spells are cast using well-known herbs, and it’s time we tried casting spells using something different. This ale may just be the thing that we need to cure the disease.”

  “I hope for all of our sakes you’re right,” said Larsen. He rose to his feet and pushed the jug of ale toward the High Cleric. “If I were you, I’d be tempted to sample some of that stuff. Just don’t use it all up.”

  Malachi laughed heartily. “Don’t think that idea hasn’t crossed my mind, General.”

  Larsen chuckled and left the room.

  Malachi picked up the jug and sniffed the contents. He coughed and held the jug away from his nose. “That stuff’s powerful enough to raise the dead!” Chuckling to himself, the High Cleric left the room by a different entrance and arrived in a hallway. This hallway had doors to rooms that bordered the outer wall of the tower. On the other side of the hallway was a triangular chamber meant for only the high clerics. Malachi walked down the hallway and stopped at a door to one of the outer rooms. He withdrew a set of keys and produced the one for the door. The key worked smoothly and the High Cleric entered the room.

  In the room was a triangular table with a chair at each of the three sides. On the table was a round holder containing a clear orb about twelve inches in diameter. This was the orb room where communication between the towers could be initialized.

  Malachi sat down on one of the chairs and ran his fingers through his brown hair. He chanted a spell and a white mist began to swirl within the orb. Soon, a face appeared in the swirling mists. It was a dark-haired, middle-aged man. The face broke into a smile when it recognized the High Cleric.

  “Malachi! It’s good to see you!”

  “Hello, Valdez,” greeted Malachi.

  “How’s the situation down there? I hope you have good news.”

  Malachi sighed. “No change, I’m afraid. People are still getting sick and dying, and the number of afflicted is still rising. We’re not getting much sleep these days.”

  Valdez shook his head. “That’s terrible. Our own efforts here in Priscilla are fruitless. The clerics and druids here are not as skilled as the clerics in the Tower of Hope, but their determination is unmatched - especially now that we have patients of our own to contend with. Barbarians in the outlying areas have been coming into town suffering from the same symptoms as the people in your area. It’s definitely a result of the water coming from the mountains. A general advisory not to drink the water is in effect.”

  “Do you have clean water to offer them?” asked Malachi in concern.

  “For now our wells in the city are uncontaminated,” said Valdez. “We have covers on them to prevent the poisoned rain from getting in. It’s not easy to do, considering the heavy rains we’ve been getting. It has rained nonstop for three days now.”

  “We’ve had the odd storm pass through here,” said Malachi. “It’s most forbidding near the Old Dwarven Mountains. The dark clouds are generating such heavy rains and thunder that the guard outposts can hardly function. Something is causing this chaotic weather, but I don’t know what. I sure wish Kazin was here to check it out.”

  “No doubt he’s in the thick of things, as usual,” said Valdez. “According to his unicorn, Kazin is in the mountains as we speak. Apparently he’s on his way to find and rescue some elementals.”


  “Elementals!” exclaimed Malachi. “That certainly explains why we’re having this unsettling weather!”

  “It also explains the tremors we’ve been experiencing of late,” added Valdez.

  “Yes, we’ve experienced them too,” said Malachi. “If elementals are involved, then the tremors are the result of the earth elemental’s imprisonment.”

  “And the rain and poisoned water means the water elemental is being controlled,” added Valdez. “Not to mention the heavy winds.”

  Malachi nodded. “The air elemental, of course. That can’t be good. The only ones I can think of that might be able to summon elementals in the mountains are the lizardmen. If that’s true, I’d hate to see what they’re planning. They must know we’re at our weakest right now.”

  “Undoubtedly,” said Valdez. “I hope Queen Milena’s upcoming trip to the Tower of the Moon produces some results. Apparently the druids need her assistance.”

  “I hope they find a cure,” said Malachi. “The closest I’ve come to a cure is from a very unlikely source.”

  “Which is?” prodded Valdez.

  Malachi held up the jug for Arch Mage Valdez to see. “Dwarven ale.”

  “What?!” Valdez was aghast. “You can’t be serious!”

  Malachi grinned. “Apparently, a couple of sick people have tried this ale, made from fermented wildhorn leaves, and have regained enough energy to walk around after being bed-ridden.”

  “Amazing!” exclaimed Valdez.

  “Unfortunately, the effect of the ale wears off,” said Malachi. “The patients then return to their sickened state unless they consume more of the ale. It’s not a cure, but at least it’s something to work with, even if it means being drunk all the time.”

  Valdez laughed. “That’s incredible! How do you deal with all the drunken patients running around?”

  “I haven’t got enough ale to know the answer to that,” said Malachi. “I hope I don’t have to find out, either,” he added wryly.

  Valdez laughed again. “What made you think of trying dwarven ale?”

  This time Malachi laughed. “It was something someone did by accident. They just brought it to my attention.”