Tail of the Dragon

by Craig Halloran

  The apparition’s wispy veil lifted. Its face contorted and twisted, showing brief glimpses of all the races. Its shrill voice changed. The tones lifted high and fell back low. Its long-ranging arms stretched toward Brenwar.

  The battle-hardened dwarf recoiled. His thick limbs remained rigid.

  “Move, Brenwar! Move!” Nath yelled. At least he thought he did. He couldn’t tell now. His own limbs were stiff and frozen. His tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth. Fighting against his frozen bonds, he reached down, grabbed the dwarf by the collar, and jerked him back.

  The apparition’s hands wavered to a stop. Its face settled into an image more readily seen. Its features sharpened. High cheekbones. Pointed ears. It opened its thin lips and spoke its first intelligible words in a deep and hollow tone. “Who are you?”

  That’s Elven! Nath’s unseen shackles melted away. An old dialect, but it’s Elven. He spoke back in the best Elven he could. “Nath. Nath Dragon.”

  The apparition’s face shifted from elven to the face of a dragon. It spoke again, this time in Dragonese. “You are odd for a dragon.”

  Nath looked at Selene, only to find her eyes as wide as his. He turned back to the apparition and replied in Dragonese, “It’s a long story. And who might you be?”

  The haunting figure diminished somewhat in stature. Its foreboding presence eased. Its long hands stretched out again, cupping around them all but without touching. “Blood runs through your veins. Life-giving blood. Ah, so desirable. So delicious. How fortunate you are to live.”

  “Who are you?” Nath said. “What is your purpose?”

  “Ah, to live again. To breathe. To taste.” The ghost’s hands lashed out and enveloped Nath. “So wonderful!”

  Nath’s head jerked back. His blood turned to ice and fire. A flood of memories washed through his mind, not his but someone else’s. The apparition’s. There were battles. Great titans ruling man and fighting dragons. Death. Life. Loss. Destruction. “Stop it! Stop it!” Nath screamed.

  A blinding light flashed. Pain split through his skull. In slow motion he saw himself fall and crash into the cathedral floor, unmoving. Someone rolled him onto his back. Selene stared down at him. Her lips were moving, but no sound came out. Brenwar appeared. Gruff. Angry. Confused. He reached down and started smacking Nath’s face.

  Will you quit that?

  Nath coughed. Finding a small reservoir of strength in his weakened limbs, he tried to sit up. Brenwar and Selene propped him up.

  “Nath,” Selene said, cupping his face in her hands. “Nath, can you hear me?”

  Blinking away the pain behind his eyes, he said, “Yes, stop yelling. What happened?”

  Brenwar pointed down at the cathedral floor and said, “That happened.”

  A man in white robes danced on the cathedral’s floor, his bare feet slapping it. Hands on his towheaded hair, he side-stepped back and forth and was singing in a complicated common tongue that the old-timers used in more remote farms and villages deep in the valleys.

  “Who is that?” Nath asked. He took Brenwar’s arm and allowed the dwarf to help him to his feet. He stretched his aching back. “Gads! I feel like I’ve aged a hundred years.” He caught Brenwar and Selene glancing at each other. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Selene said, showing an uncertain smile. “How are you feeling?”

  Rubbing his head, Nath said, “I haven’t been sleeping a hundred years, have I?”

  “Why, do I look a hundred years older?” Selene said.

  “No, it’s just the pair of you have some very peculiar looks on your faces.” He rubbed his beard and said, “Gads! What happened?” Nath clutched handfuls of red beard in both of his clawed hands. “I’m not a dwarf, am I?”

  “What?” Brenwar growled. “Now you’re dreaming. But the beard is a good look for you. Other than that, you look normal, aside from a few new wrinkles.”

  “Be silent, dwarf!” Selene said.

  “Wrinkles!” Nath cried. He felt his face. His skin was tighter, and there were creases in his forehead that had never been there before. “What did that thing do to me?”

  The dancing man in the robes came running up the stairs, leapt up the last few, and said, “Apologies and thanks!” He grabbed Nath’s hand and shook it vigorously. “I could not help myself! Tee-hee! I breathe again!”

  Nath’s nostrils flared. The man was taller than Nath and big boned, but there was nothing powerful about his build. A strange, big man, a hair over seven feet tall. Human, but odd for that kind. He seized the man’s wrists. “I’m only going to ask you this once. Who are you and what did you do to me?”

  “Azorath is my name, I think. Azorath, the gatekeeper of Borgash.” He grimaced. “Your grip is iron, liberator. You need not fear anything else from me.”

  “What did you do to me?”

  “I merely stole some years from your life force.” Azorath blinked at him. His eyes were black glass and spacey “Please, do not fret, you have plenty. A hundred years or so won’t hurt you.”

  “A hundred years!” Nath started pushing Azorath back down the steps. “Give it back!”

  “I fear I cannot! I admit, I would not. The flesh of life is in me again!”

  “The flesh of life will be gone from you if you don’t undo this.”

  “You would not kill me, Nath Dragon,” Azorath said with a feeble smile. “It’s not in your nature.”

  “It’s in mine,” Brenwar said.

  Selene confronted the man. “It’s in mine as well.”

  “Er …” Azorath’s eyes danced back and forth among the three of them. “Slaying me won’t change a thing. It was worth it. And so will your sacrifice be as well, Nath Dragon.”

  “I didn’t sacrifice anything,” Nath said. “You stole it.”

  “The moment you ventured into the bowels of Borgash, you sacrificed everything to find your mother.” Azorath tapped his finger to his head. “And I know where she is.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Azorath led now. Nath, Brenwar, and Selene followed. The former shade, now a man, picked his way through the subterranean levels of the fallen city. They climbed over huge chunks of road that had been heaved up. Passageways that weren’t made by men. Their eerie guide talked the entire time.

  “This was the square here,” Azorath said, running his hands over a piece of twisted metal. “Many celebrations and ceremonies. Weddings. Feasts. Grand times, at least until the titans came. They had a different way of celebrating. They killed and ate people. Pitted one against the other. Horrible times, but the dragons liberated the races.” He pointed at Nath. “You understand that. A brave and noble thing, fighting for the weak and saving them from the strong.”

  “Yes, you’ve said that before, shade,” Brenwar said. “How much more walking and talking? You say you know where Nath’s mother is. How much farther is she?”

  “Almost there,” Azorath said, climbing down over a ledge and stopping before a stream of water that trickled. He pushed his hands down in the water and giggled. “I have not drunk nor eaten. I thirst!” He stuck his face in the water and drank. “Ah!”

  Brenwar stepped into Nath and Selene’s path. “That thing is not right. Don’t trust it.”

  “I know, Brenwar,” Nath said, watching Azorath continue to drink and giggle. “But if he knows anything, we have to take that chance.”

  Brenwar shook his head and followed after Azorath.

  “You’ve been awfully quiet, Selene. What do you make of this?” asked Nath.

  She rubbed his shoulder. “It’s not for me to decide. It’s your quest. You lead, I’ll follow.”

  Nath nodded. Despite the creepy feeling he couldn’t shake out from under his scales, he found a ring of truth in Azorath’s words. He wanted to believe the strange man knew where his mother was. Why am I trusting someone who just sucked a huge part of my life from me? How did he know I was searching for my mother? Did he steal my memories as well?”

  After finishing of
f another handful of water, Azorath continued. “You’re probably wondering if I’m the only survivor left of this once-great city.”

  “No,” Brenwar said.

  “Sure you are, so I will tell you. Yes, I am.” Azorath ducked between two buildings that had collided and formed an unnatural archway. “I was chosen to be the gatekeeper. To be the last. You see, the titans were defeated, but their dark ways were not. Borgash broke out in civil war once the deity-like beings were out of the picture. This faction fought with that one. Everything began to come apart at the seams. The wizards and priests battled for rule and order. Earthquakes broke out. Tornadoes screamed. It went on and on until everyone fought and no one survived. It was madness.”

  “Still don’t care,” Brenwar said. He shoved Azorath forward. “Now get us to where we need to be getting.”

  “I can’t help but share my speech. It’s been so long since I spoke to anyone. Forgive me for enjoying your miserable company.” He ducked his head underneath a low archway that led into a tunnel. “I find it delightful.”

  Nath rubbed his temples.

  I feel like a fool. Just don’t look like one, Nath. Be wary of a trap.

  He trod over the grime-slickened stones, keeping Azorath in sight. The lanky man had a spring in his step. His whistles echoed, too.

  That doesn’t make my head much better.

  Finally, the gatekeeper came to a stop in front of an archway that was broken in half. Above it, two massive rocks had collided. Pitch blackness was on the other side of the archway. “Through here,” he pointed. “Answers to the questions you seek.” He reached for Brenwar’s torch. “May I?”

  “Get yer own.”

  “Brenwar,” Nath said, “please, oblige him.”

  With a grunt, Brenwar handed the torch over.

  Azorath waved it back and forth and erupted in a short series of giggles then said, “I can’t help it. I feel the warmth from it. It’s delightful.” He stuck it through the archway. The flames vanished in the blackness. He pulled it back out, and the flames were still alive. “I warn you. It’s very dark in there, but not far.” Showing a row of big, smiling teeth, he said, “Who goes in first?”

  Nath didn’t move, and neither did Selene or Brenwar.

  “I see,” Azorath said, “then I guess it will be me.” He hopped into the blackness and vanished.

  Selene let out a sigh.

  “What was that for?” Nath said to her.

  “He bothers me,” she said.

  “Me too,” Brenwar agreed.

  “Nath, now that he—or it—is gone, I’m more prone to speak freely. I’m not so sure there is anything to be gained from this venture. You don’t have any evidence to go on about your mother, just the word of a fairy, and now this creature. They are both far from trustworthy.”

  “Aye,” Brenwar said.

  “I’ve considered that,” Nath said, “But what if my mother is down inside this horrible place? I can’t bear the thought of that. Not to mention I want my years of life back.”

  “But why would she be?” Selene said. “This place fell more than a thousand years ago. Your mother gave birth to you maybe two hundred and fifty years ago. Why would she come here?”

  “Those are good arguments,” he said, “but my gut tells me that I need to at least eliminate the possibility.” He stepped up to the arch and stuck his hand in it. It felt like he had stuck his fingers in ice. “I’m going in.” He extended his free hand. “Anyone else?”

  Brenwar came forward. “I’m going, but I’m not holding your hand.”

  “I will take it,” Selene said, taking his hand in hers. “But don’t get used to it.”

  Head ducking down, Nath led them into the archway.

  CHAPTER 33

  Emptiness. There was no worse feeling than nothing at all.

  Guzan, what madness is this?

  He tumbled through the blackness, yet there was no wind in his hair. Selene’s touch was gone. His heartbeat was missing. Only his thoughts remained. A mind without a body. Soundless, he drifted in nowhere.

  I’ve been deceived!

  Struggling to find his own self, he noted a small window of light. He swam toward it. It became bigger, brighter, and it swallowed him whole. Wind rushed by his ears. His arms and legs flailed. “Gah!”

  He crashed into a soft bed of sand. He spat the sand from his mouth and shook it from his hair. A shadow fell over him. He glanced up.

  “Incoming!” Brenwar yelled. The dwarf landed on Nath’s chest.

  “Ooof!” He pushed Brenwar off and helped him to his feet.

  Brenwar shook the sand from his beard. “This is a fine place.”

  They stood on a huge bed of cool, wet sand. Water trickled from all around, running down slick, polished cave walls. A soft green light illuminated the cavern like a spectral sky. It was humid and sweaty.

  “This will probably be a regrettable decision,” Selene said. She was standing behind Brenwar and Nath, dusting the grimy sand from her clothes. Her black hair was matted to her face. She parted it and brushed it back behind her shoulders. Hands on hips, she said, “So, where is your friend?”

  Nath shrugged. There was nothing in the cavern but them, and the archway they had entered from was gone. “Any idea how deep we are, Brenwar?”

  Brenwar rumbled a reply. “I can’t say.”

  Nath kicked the sand. “Just great.”

  “Oh, stop being so grim. I was only scouting ahead. Frankly, I didn’t think you would come.” It was Azorath. He lumbered up a sandy hill where water ran like a stream below. “Time has a funny way of working down here, and it’s been quite some time since I’ve been in this area. And with a body?” He felt himself. “Tee hee!”

  “Listen, Azorath, enough of the games. Take me to see my mother like you promised,” Nath said.

  “I don’t recall promising anything. But if it makes you feel any better, I promise to show you your mother.”

  Nath didn’t reply. He’d spent almost all of his natural life wondering who and where his mother was. Other dragons knew, but he never did, and his father had never told him. Deep down it bothered him, severely, but he never dwelled on it for long. Now, to think he might find the answer to his question? He wasn’t sure he was ready. He pulled his shoulders back, marched forward, and said, “Lead the way, then.”

  Shuffling over the strange landscape, they moved forward at a depressive gate. Never in his life had Nath felt so displaced. His surroundings were so unnatural and odd. Light without a source from above. An eerie tingle in the air. His heightened instincts choked back and waited to cry for danger. He had to see it through, though. Have faith that his heart would lead him to his mother.

  I hope I am not deceived.

  He recalled his father, Balzurth, often saying, “Be careful of your heart’s desires. Sometimes it can deceive you. Seek wisdom first. It will always prevail.”

  Azorath slogged into the ankle-deep waters and forged away. The strange man’s shoulders swung left to right as he moved. The oddness about him made Nath wonder about the people that had lived in Borgash and the culture they’d shared. He felt Selene take his hand in hers. Softly he said back to her, “You must feel as out of place as I do.”

  “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to see Nalzambor’s sun again. It seems we’ve been in here for weeks already.”

  “Almost there,” Azorath said, picking up the pace. “Oh, that was quick. It seems we are already there. Now gaze, my liberators. Gaze at the Great Wall of Dragons!”

  Selene squeezed Nath’s hand and gasped.

  Ahead was a great wall indeed. The most magnificent wall that Nath had ever seen. A wall made of dragons. It was expansive, too. It stretched up several stories high and was just as wide. The dragons were a tight cluster of scales, claws, tails, horns, and teeth. They were a colorful mix of stone and marble. Every detail was just as realistic as the next. Dragons, great and small. Nath could tell what they were by the shapes of their
heads. There were dragon breeds from the large bull dragons to the smaller fire bites. Finding his breath, Nath said, “Who created this wonder?”

  “Why, the dragons did,” Azorath replied. He had his hands clasped behind his back and was studying the wall with adoration. “Quite the sacrifice, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t take your meaning,” Nath said. “Are you saying that dragons carved this?”

  “No, no, you don’t understand. Come, come,” Azorath said, beckoning with his hand. “Touch it. Feel it. That is the best way to answer your question.”

  “I don’t like this,” Selene said, not hiding the concern in her voice.

  “I’ve never seen stonework so grand as this,” Brenwar added. “Not outside of Morgdon for certain.”

  Nath’s heart beat faster. Drawn to the great wall, he ventured forward and stretched out his hand. With the slightest tremble in his claw-tipped fingers, he laid his scaled palm on the wall. It was warm to the touch. His jaw dropped, and then with amazement he said, “Sultans of Sulfur! It’s beating!”

  CHAPTER 34

  “I can’t believe this,” Nath said with incredulity. “Selene, you must feel it.”

  The raven-headed woman hesitated. “I don’t know about this, Nath. How can they live such a fate? I don’t understand.”

  Nath swallowed. Sweat dripped into his eyes, and his heart continued to race. Hundreds of heartbeats, slow and steady, thumped through his palm, igniting his entire body. So many dragons clustered together as one. Why?

  Finally, Selene stretched out her hand and touched the wall of dragons. She took in a sharp breath. Tears swelled in her eyes. Her normal calm and cool expression switched back and forth between sorrow and joy. “This is madness. But I don’t sense any torment. Do you?”

  Nath searched his feelings. He searched the feelings in the life within the dragon wall. There was no sadness. Just duty. Honor. Comfort for one another. “They aren’t alone in this. They have united together. But why, Azorath?” He tore his hand away. “Why?”