Ben shook his head.
“If you poke them, they might bleed, but slash a part off, and they’ll run.”
Ben’s face tightened.
“Hard to imagine such a thing, but when you fight, these things happen. They can happen to you just the same.” I slapped him on the shoulder. “But this is what you wanted, isn't it?”
He looked a little green as he nodded his head yes.
“But stabbing’s how I killed the Jackal,” he said, thumbing notches on his blade's edge.
“True, but the Jackal wasn’t looking―and you had a magic sword to boot.” I twirled Fang with my wrist. “He’s a fine thing, isn’t he?” I rubbed the dragon heads on the pommel then jerked Dragon Claw out for display. “Now, if you want to poke somebody, you need one of these.”
“Whoa! I never would have imagined such a thing,” he said, eyeing it with fascination.
“This is Dragon Claw, and he’s helped me out of more than one jam or two. When we get closer to town, well find you a dagger for your boot.” I tugged at his girdle. “Hmmm, probably can fit a nice one in there, as well. You can never be too careful.”
As Ben rubbed the back of his neck, I could see the uncertainty build in his eyes. Good. A young man like that needs to know what he’s in for. But I was going easy on him, for now.
“I’m hungry.”
“I’ll check the fish traps,” Ben said, sliding the broadsword into his belt.
“And I’ll start the fire,” I said.
I liked Ben. He was good company, and other than a few glances, he hadn't even asked about my arm, which I found extraordinary. But country folk always did have the best manners.
After gathering a few twigs and skinning down some branches, I had a fire going in no time. It wasn’t long after when Ben returned with a string of fish.
“Pretty nice catch you have there,” I said.
He grinned from ear to ear.
“That stream is full of them. I could fish here all week.”
He skinned, I cooked, and not long after I lay on my back and watched the wind blowing the black silhouettes of the leaves.
“Think you can stay up this time?” I said.
Ben covered his mouth, yawning.
“Oh, I’m feeling spry tonight.” He grabbed a stone and ran it along the edge of his sword. “Dragon, I was wondering. What do you do, exactly? Do you hunt treasure? Where are you from? I’ve never seen a man like you before. And when I left, all the people were talking about you.”
I sat up.
“Really, what did they say?”
“My cousin said you were one of those dragon poachers.”
“Really,” I held up my hand, “with an arm like this?”
He scratched his neck and said, “It is peculiar, but I’ve seen strange travelers before.” He perked up. “I even saw some elves once. They didn’t talk, but they had the most beautiful armor.”
“Listen, Ben. If you’re going to ride with me, and you might just die with me, you might as well know.”
He leaned forward.
“Know what?”
“I’m looking for dragons.”
His eyes brightened.
“You’re a hunter?”
I shook my head.
He snapped his fingers.
“A poacher then? I’ve heard about them. Uh…” He shrank back. “...but aren’t they… evil?”
“Yes, but I am neither. I don’t hunt dragons. I don’t kill them. I rescue them.”
He scratched his head and asked, “Why would a dragon need rescued?”
“What do you know about the dragons, Ben?”
He shrugged.
“They have fiery breath and scales as hard as steel. Some are as big as horses and others as small as a goat.” His face drew up. “Will you take me with you? To rescue one? Oh, they have treasure, too. Wagonloads of it, I hear. And… and there are thousands of them in the Mountain of Doom. They say there’s one so large there he can swallow an elephant whole.”
There was only one who could, that I knew of.
“Where’d you hear that?”
“A troubadour who was passing through one day sang about it. She was a pretty young thing. Half elven she said she was, with honey-brown hair and lips the color of wine.”
“And she sang no songs of auburn-haired fellows with eyes as gold as the sun?”
‘No.”
“Are you certain?”
“I’d have remembered for sure. We don’t get many bards where I come from.”
I rose to a knee, hand instinctively falling to my hilt.
“What is it?” Ben said.
I put my finger to my lips.
He cupped his ear.
What I heard was flapping. And not the common kind of the night air. Not birds, not owls, nor any other common thing but something vastly rare.
The horses nickered. Their hooves stomped and stamped.
“Stay with the horses!” I said, pulling my bow out. “Something bad is coming.”
CHAPTER 20
It was bad, all right. Three times as bad as I thought it would be.
“Firebites! What in Narnum are they doing here?”
Yes, they're dragons. No, they aren't good. Not evil, but not good. They're also known in the Dragon Home as firebrats.
I ducked.
A small creature zinged over my head. A pixlyn. A small, fairy-like man with wings. A firebite was on his tail, chasing him into the sky, darting in and out of the trees. I could see two more waiting above as their brother flushed the pixlyn out.
“Ben! Don’t leave those horses, do you hear?”
Firebites are small, little bigger than my foot, but they're all dragon. Nasty dragons, red scaled, black winged, more than capable of handling their own in the big, big world.
“What did you say?” Ben shouted back. “What are those things, anyway?”
“Stay with the horses, Ben!”
I nocked an arrow. Not wiirvin. Not magic. Just one I used for hunting. The pixlyn came again. I shot. He dove. The arrow splintered off the pursuing firebite's nose. It howled a split second before it crashed into a tree.
“Excellent shot, Dragon!”
“Get to the horses, Ben!”
In a blink, I reloaded, eyeing the sky. Down the next two came.
“Always have to do it the hard way, don’t you, fellas?” I said, aiming.
Twang!
The arrow split on its face. A normal arrow wouldn’t harm it, but it would sting. I stepped out of the way as it crashed to the ground.
A stream of flame shot from the third one's mouth.
“What are you doing, firebrat?” I said, jumping away. The tree behind me burst into flame. If I didn’t calm them down, they’d set the entire forest on fire. The next thing I knew, they had me surrounded. Vicious little lizards, tongues licking around their red-hot mouths, snorting smoke and flames from their nostrils.
“Why are you attacking me?”
I felt something brush against my hair.
“Sultans of Sulfur!” I had a pixlyn on my head. “Get off me!”
The dragons' razor-sharp teeth nipped at my boots as they circled.
I could feel the white-hot heat coming out of their mouths. They could fry me in an instant if they wanted. I could see the fury in their eyes. They wanted that pixlyn.
I tried some Dragonese, saying, “Go away. The hunt is over.”
They stopped and cocked their heads like little red dogs.
“Peace and Home,” I said, and repeated.
Firebites are rebels. They come and go as they please. And they're harder to catch than most dragons. They don't have the weakness for gems or gold. It's the hunt and torment of all creatures inferior that they live for.
Sitting back on their haunches, they growled a little. Behind me, the burning tree was beginning to crackle.
“That’s more like it,” I said, reaching my dragon arm out to the nearest. It growled, bloodstone eyes fixed on my sh
oulder. There, the pixlyn sat, huffing for breath, a worried expression on his tiny face. The poor creature was exhausted. “You better stay back,” I said. I felt it conceal itself in my locks.
“I’ll help you, Dragon!”
From out of nowhere, Ben came swinging his sword.
“No, Ben! Stop!”
It was too late.
“EEE-YAH!”
Ben swung hard, hitting a firebite, sending it skipping across the ground.
“Fool! I told you to stay with the horses! Now we'll—”
A stream of flames shot from two dragons’ mouths.
I leaped, knocking Ben out of the way.
“Stay behind me!” I said, locking my bow on my back. Shing! Fang was secure in my grip.
“Are those dragons?” Ben said, behind my ears.
“No, fool! Those are angry dragons! Very angry!”
“You sound angry,” Ben said, worried. “Are you?”
I didn’t say anything. Ben only meant well, but good intentions were often a brave man’s undoing.
Puff! Puff! Puff!
Three balls of fire shot my way. I swatted them away with my sword, the splatter burning my fingertips and arms.
“Ow! That burns!” Ben said behind me.
Whatever connection I'd had with the firebites was gone now. Not only did they want the pixlyn, they now wanted Ben and me as well. And these firebites were fully grown; their fire, though small, would last much longer than others'.
“What do we do?” Ben said. “I don’t want to be burned alive.”
I could feel Ben sliding away from me.
“Don’t you dare run,” I growled. “They’ll turn you into char before you get within a dozen yards of a horse. Stand your ground and live. Give ground and die.”
Nervous, Ben said, “That’s what my uncle the Legionnaire says.”
I didn’t see any way out of this. They were going to hurt us, fry us, burn us. The intent was there as their tails snapped back and forth. They’d burn the entire forest down if they wanted to. I’d have to use Fang. I’d have to be quicker than them.
“Fang, if you have any advice, I could use it now.”
“What?” Ben said.
“Nothing,” I said. “Prepare yourself.”
As Ben and I stood side by side, I saw the firebites' tiny chests swell. A torrent of flame shot out.
CHAPTER 21
Instantly, a wall of ice formed before me. Fang's blade radiated an icy blue color, the like of which I'd never seen on the metal before.
“Whoa!”
On the other side, the dragon flames crackled against the ice, causing the sheet to melt. With Fang glowing like a blue star in my hand, I seized the moment.
“Stay behind this wall,” I ordered Ben.
Fang was pulsating with power. It was intoxicating. I stepped around the wall and faced the tiny dragons. In Dragonese, I spoke.
“That’s enough! Be gone, firebites!” I said, pointing at them with my sword.
Fireballs shot from each mouth, pelting me with fire.
“Argh!” I screamed. It hurt, but just like when the steel dragon breathed fire on me, it didn't destroy me.
Fang moaned, angry, and blasted shards of ice into all of them.
Defiant, they let out tiny roars, mouths shooting with fire.
Fang hit them again, coating them with frost from head to toe.
Growling, shivering, they backed away.
I willed Fang to shoot them again. The firebrats deserved it.
“Get out of here while you can!”
Wings pinned to their sides, one by one, they scampered away. The last one, looking back, shot another blast of fire my way. I ducked, and when I looked back, it was gone.
Still filled with power, I shot another blast into the burning tree. The ice smothered the flames. Admiring Fang, I said, “That was incredible.”
Fang flared and moaned, then returned to his shiny coat of steel.
“Well done, Fang. And thank you,” I said, sliding him back into his sheath.
I remembered what the steel dragon had said. That sword you have, little dragon… you should get to know it better… that day your father forged it, I was there… tell him hello… and thank you.
There was certainly much more to that than I expected.
“You talk to your sword,” Ben said, stepping from behind the wall of ice, “And it makes snow?”
I fought the urge to slap him.
“Ben! You almost got us killed. Do you understand that?”
He stood there, blinking.
“Do you want to continue this journey with me?” I said, patting out a patch of flame on my armor. I had burn marks all over me, and a nasty boil popped up on my arm.
He nodded.
“Then follow my orders from now on!” I punched him in the arm. “Got it?”
He grimaced, holding his shoulder.
I shrugged. That’s what Brenwar would have done if I’d acted so foolish. I felt Ben eyeing my back.
“Were those dragons? They were so small.”
“Yes, those were dragons. And as you can see, just because something is small doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous. Take a moment to think: what would have happened if they came after you without me? You’d be a human roast, right? And they have our scent now. They might come back, you know. Burn us in our sleep.”
Eyes like saucers, tone somber, he nodded and said, “I’m sorry, Dragon. I guess we're even, huh?”
“I guess—say what?” Something rustled in my hair. I’d forgotten about the pixlyn.
Snatch!
I had him in my dragon claws.
“What is that?” exclaimed Ben.
The pixlyn struggled in my grip, but I wasn’t hurting him. I wasn’t letting him go, either.
“A pixlyn, part of the fairy race.”
Ben came closer, gaping, and said, “I heard they granted wishes.”
I laughed but not out loud. This should be good.
“Go ahead, make a wish then,” I suggested.
“Well, why don’t you make a wish, then?”
I closed my eyes, thinking, and said, “Hmmm… well, I didn’t really have one in mind, but if you’re not interested, I could think of one; I guess. I’m hungry: maybe some food.”
“No! Do something bigger than that.”
“What would you wish for, Ben?”
This should be interesting. You could learn a lot about a person if you knew what they wished for.
Scratching the side of his cheek, looking between me and the fairy, Ben said, “I’d wish for peace in all Nalzambor.”
Well, that was touching. Naïve, but at least his heart was in the right spot. He’ll make a fine hero yet.
“Impressive, but pretty big, Ben. Their magic is limited, so you might as well ask for something smaller.”
“Can I save it?”
“Sure, you can do whatever you want.”
He glanced at me and said, “He can’t really grant wishes, can he?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny that.
The pixlyn chattered at me, but I had no idea what he said. I imagine it was "Let me go!"
“What are you going to do with him?”
The pixlyn was an exotic and handsome little thing. His skin was the color of pollen, his eyes like tiny gems. A perfect figurine of a man. Still, it was strange to find a pixlyn so far from the high mountains. And I found it hard to believe the firebites rousted him out from there. And the creature, though defiant in my grasp, seemed sad, almost worried.
“What is wrong—”
A puff of blue smoke shot from his mouth and into my face, my mouth, my eyes.
Oh no! The lights went out, and my memories began to fade.
CHAPTER 22
I awoke with the sun in my eyes and an ache in my head.
“Ugh… what hit me?”
“Nothing,” Ben said. “That fairy or pixie thing just spat on you.”
I rol
led over. There was Ben, glum faced and dark eyed. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.
“You been up all night?”
He rubbed his eyes, yawning.
“Yep. I couldn’t sleep if I had to. I swore I heard those little dragons prowling around all night.” He huffed out a breath. “I’m really glad you’re awake, because I couldn’t wake you, and I tried. Oy, did I try.”
I sat up, looking around, rubbing my head. There was a lump on it.
“Sultans of Sulfur, Ben! Couldn’t you catch me when I fell? What did I land on, a stone?”
“Sorry, but I was watching that pix… er—”
“Pixlyn!” I growled. “So I guess it’s long gone by now. Hope you got your wish in. Now get the gear and the horses; let’s go!”
I was agitated. It wasn’t all Ben’s fault, but having him around didn’t help. It just slowed me down. I had dragons to save, and the only thing I was saving was myself and him. It was time to get him to the city and settle him in. I had things to do.
I saddled up as soon as Ben led the horses over.
“You get everything?” I asked.
“Certainly. Eh, Dragon?”
“What?”
“That blister on your arm, it looks painful. I could lance it for you. I saw my mother lance one on my father once. He burned himself really bad at the forge. A hot horse caught him.”
The blister was as big as an egg and throbbed with a life of its own. A chronic reminder of my carelessness.
“Do I look like someone who’s worried about a little blister on my arm?” I said, scowling. I didn’t smile all the time, unless ladies were around.
“No.”
I slit it open with my dragon thumb.
Ben looked like he’d swallowed a scorpion as the puss drained out.
“There, Ben. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” I snapped the reins. “Yah!”
***
Quintuklen. A monolithic marvel against the northern skies.
“What do you think?” I said.
Ben stared, saying, “I never imagined it was so big.”
It was big. The biggest city in Nalzambor, which I always found odd, because humans didn’t stick around as long as the rest of us. But they were an ambitious lot.
“How tall are those… those things?” Ben pointed.
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