“No!”
On my knees I picked up one of the large pieces and thought I saw Sasha’s pretty eyes before the image faded. I was alone. Worried. Stomach turning. I dashed into the nearest tunnel with my heart thundering inside my chest. My dragon eyes could make out the faint outlines of the tunnels. The entire time I was shackled, I’d been thinking about what I was going to do. I’d have to figure out how I would find them.
I rubbed my wrists. They were warm and wet. I’d bled. I was seeing red when I came to the first fork in the tunnels. I stopped.
Settle down, Nath. Think. What’s the plan?
I’d had a plan a minute ago. A sound one, but it was lost at the moment. What was it? Assuming what Kryzak had said was true, I could save one pair, not the other. And if I had my choice, who would I save? In my mind it would be Sasha. That’s what the others would do. It was an unspoken code among men: save the women and children. Then the men can save themselves. But Brenwar. The thought of not hearing his voice again haunted me already. I couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t think it.
I tore a hunk of rock out of the wall.
“Guzan! What do I do?”
The only reply was my echoing voice. I didn’t have a choice, it seemed. Whoever I found first would live. Whoever I didn’t find would die. Unless I was fast enough.
Quit wasting time or they’ll all die.
CHAPTER 2
I dashed into the tunnel on the right. Right always seemed to be the better path. My natural inclination at crossroads time and again.
The tunnel twisted and turned and branched off again.
I stopped. Fury built inside me. I needed to clear my head and my mind. Use my wits and instincts. I closed my eyes and sniffed the air. I wasn’t a bloodhound, but my dragon nose was pretty good. I could smell gnoll and goblin sweat. Their stink. The dirt from their matted hair. I just needed to find some of them and wring the location of my friends from their greasy necks.
I trotted right again, following the stench. My eye caught water flowing downward in the sloped tunnel. A good sign.
If Brenwar were here, he’d know exactly where to go.
I followed the cave wall and stopped at the edge of an alcove naturally concealed off the path. Heavy breathing caught my ears. Several pairs of feet shifted on the ground and weapons and armor creaked a little.
“Be still, will you?” a gnoll whispered. His voice was gruff and throaty.
Another good sign. They expected me. My clawed fingers drifted to my waist. Fang was gone. What was I thinking? I had no armor or weapons aside from my scales and claws.
I might not see Fang or Akron ever again!
I didn’t have time to worry about that, though. I needed to act!
Gnolls and goblins saw well in the dark, but their vision wasn’t better than mine. So they waited to ambush me, but it was I who would ambush them.
I peered around the corner.
Clatch-zip!
I jerked back. A crossbow bolt zinged past my eye and clattered off the stone.
“He’s here! Kill him!” a gnoll ordered.
A mass of warm bodies swarmed me. I launched myself into them. Reckless. Wild. I’d had enough of evil.
Whap! Whap! Whap!
I hit a gnoll so hard its teeth shattered. Two goblins wheezed from broken ribs.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
They cried out. Cursed.
I poured it on. My speed and power were unmatched. Relentless. I punched and kicked until none of them moved anymore … except one. I clenched a goblin in the crook of my arm, suffocating.
“Where are they?” I said in its hairy ear.
It said nothing and opted to try and dig its thick nails into the scales of my arm. Stupid goblin.
I shook the goblin, rattling the bones on its necklace.
“I’ll ask one more time … WHERE ARE THEY?”
Its fingers no longer clutched at me. They tapped my arm a little. I released it.
It fell on all fours, coughing and sputtering.
I kicked it in the ribs.
“Oof!” it said.
“Oof better be a place,” I said, squatting down, “and my friends better be there when you take me there.”
It shook its ugly head. “No, don’t know. Don’t know. Don’t—ulp!”
I slung it into the wall.
A sad thing. I needed Brenwar to find Brenwar. He had no difficulty beating information out of these things. My higher standards prohibited me, but what was I supposed to do in this kind of an emergency? I had to convince this goblin. Now!
I tore a spear from a gnoll’s grasp and poked the tip into the goblin’s leg, drawing blood.
“Ack!” it said, pushing itself against the wall.
Goblins could inflict pain, but they couldn’t take it. They were weak like that.
I rested the spear tip on its nose. “I might not kill you, but I have no issues poking tiny holes in you,” I said, watching the yellows of its eyes darting back and forth.
“Come,” it said. “Come. I show. Just poke no more holes.”
I backed off. “Lead the way.”
Limping, the goblin traversed the tunnels with my spear at its back.
We were going deeper. I noticed something else. I was limping a little as well. My side and legs were wounded. Seems the goblins and gnolls had gotten a piece of me after all. The scary thing was I hadn’t felt it before. Burning. Throbbing. Blast!
Ahead, the sound of rushing water became louder.
I jabbed the spear into its back.
It screeched.
“Move faster!”
Its short figure half scurried, half limped along. I could see the hoop earrings dangling from its ears. The bones and armor rattled when it moved. Noisy.
I didn’t have time to worry about another trap, however. I just had to hope this was the right direction. Hope that the goblin was more scared of me than of its master.
It slowed again.
I pressed the spear into its back, lifting it up to its tiptoes.
It whispered and pointed. “Up ahead. Up ahead.”
There was light wavering from a lantern or torch. Water was splashing.
“You go first,” I said.
The goblin looked back at me with its bottom lip drooping.
“But… ”
I glared at it.
Forward it limped with its hands up a little.
I stayed a few feet back, and I could feel the hairs rising on my neck.
The goblin glanced back over its shoulder, flashed a toothy grin, and bustled around the corner.
I started after and stopped. Something was wrong.
“No! No!” I heard the goblin say. It stepped back into my sight with its arms up and pleading.
A sword flashed.
Slice!
The goblin’s head fell from its shoulders.
The brawny body of a draykis blocked the exit of the tunnel. Its big, scaly hands were holding a dripping sword.
“Fang!”
The monster had my sword.
I flung the spear at its face.
It batted the spear away, bringing Fang down in a flash.
I jumped aside.
Swish!
“Fang!”
Death by Fang was never a thought that had occurred to me. In most cases, Fang wouldn’t even let another creature pick it up. The hilt would burn hot as fire. But maybe that was a dragon thing and the draykis’s scales confused it.
Of course, I didn’t know what Fang thought about anything.
I ducked. Twisted. Turned.
Swish. Clang. Swish.
“Nath!”
“Huh?” I said, looking around.
It was Bayzog. Far away. The water was over his neck and almost to Sasha’s lips. Water poured in from above, filling the pool. Sasha’s chin was covered in water. Her lips fought for gulps of air.
“Hurry!
I ducked under the next swing and dove into the pool of ris
ing water. Something powerful jumped on top of me and dragged me into the depths.
CHAPTER 3
The draykis locked its arm around my neck and dragged me down. Now I was drowning. Maybe. I could hold my breath for a long time compared to others. But in this case I was choking, and I didn’t have a good breath from the start.
I drove my elbow into its ribs. Jammed my head under its chin.
Its grip slacked.
I twisted away, swam to the surface, burst from the water, and sucked in more air.
“Urp!”
The draykis dragged me back under. Its huge arms were wrapped around my legs, and its great weight was pulling me down into the black depths.
I grabbed its face and pushed my thumbs into its eyes.
It let go.
I kicked it in the face. Then I slipped behind it and locked my arms behind its neck and squeezed with all my might.
It rocked and reeled in the water. I held on. I wasn’t sure if these things needed to breathe. They were strange—living but dead somehow. Life reincarnated in an evil form. I squeezed harder.
Crack!
Its body went limp. I released it and was watching it float toward the bottom when I noticed something twitching in the water above.
Sasha! Bayzog!
I could see their feet chained at the deep pool’s edge to a ring hooked at the bottom. Bones were layered on the bottom. Skulls and whole skeletons. I cut through the water and popped up right beside them. Sasha’s eyes were widened and her mouth was filling with water.
“Hang on!” I said.
“Nath, there is no key,” Bayzog said. “You’ll have to break them.”
I dipped below the surface, wrapped my hands around the chains, and braced my feet on the bottom.
I put every ounce of energy I had into it.
The metal groaned. My bones popped and cracked in the water. Come on, Nath! Do it!
The chains held fast. Sasha swam down beside me and Bayzog did as well. I could see their eyes. They weren’t pleading. They weren’t helpful. They were forgiving. They placed their arms on my shoulders and grabbed each other’s hands. Sasha smiled a little as if saying, “It’s all right. You tried your best.”
Noooooooo! Pull, Nath, pull!
My dragon heart pumped. My energy surged. I put everything I had left into it.
The chain snapped.
I pushed them up out of the water and onto the ledge, where we all lay coughing and gasping. I was the first to gather my breath.
“Brenwar and Shum!”
“Let us help, Nath,” Bayzog said, coughing and trying to stand.
“Do you have any idea where they are?”
There was a blank look in his violet eyes. He shook his head.
I dove back into the pool and swam across.
Fang lay on the ground, and I snatched him up.
“Wait!” Sasha said. She pushed her soaked hair out of her face. “I have a spell that might help.”
“You can’t cast through those iron shackles,” Bayzog said, showing the heavy cuffs on his wrists.
But good wizards always have something up their sleeves.
“Hurry!” I said.
Bayzog led Sasha along the rim of the pool and stopped in front of me.
“What do you have in mind?” Bayzog said.
“I created a spell that I’ve kept on my tongue since I was a girl who feared getting lost.” She kneeled down. “And if I ever got lost, I’d summon a pathfinder to lead toward something good. There’s nothing good in these caves, I figure, save us.”
“Do as you will,” Bayzog said, taking a place at her side. He placed his hand on her shoulder and nodded.
Sasha closed her eyes. Her lips didn’t move, but sound came out. Sweet. Peaceful. A humming from her throat.
I was tapping my foot.
Wizards take a long time to cast spells in many cases. I just hoped this wasn’t one of them.
Her body quivered. Her teardrop face tightened.
Ping!
A spark of light appeared from nowhere and hovered before her. It grew and glowed into a sphere of light a little smaller than my hand, pink and yellow and pulsating. Sasha opened her eyes and held out her hand. It dropped onto her palm like a colorful dandelion.
“Find anything good but us,” Sasha whispered to it, “quickly, Pathfinder.”
It rose and darted away back through the tunnel I’d come through and disappeared.
I was looking at Sasha and she said, “What are you waiting for? Get after it! We’re right behind you.”
Pathfinder moved fast. My legs churned, winding in and out of the slick corridors.
Behind me, Bayzog and Sasha puffed for air.
“Can you keep up?” I said.
“Just go, Nath,” Bayzog said. He was holding his side, and Sasha was too. “We’ll catch up. Save the others.”
It tugged at me. I didn’t want to leave them again. They were practically defenseless.
“Protect yourselves,” I said. “There are draykis about.”
Either Pathfinder was getting faster or I was getting slower, because it was hard to keep up along the caves that sloped up and down. Water rushed over my toes in some places. It was bone dry in others. With every step, I expected something to pop up—a draykis, goblin, gnoll, or something else.
The seconds became minutes, the tunnels endless catacombs. The small orb of bright color might as well have been lost for all I knew.
“Where are you going?”
My voice only echoed.
My heart thundered in my ears. My friends were dying, drowning somewhere.
Pathfinder slowed.
I found myself trudging through ankle-deep water and into another cavern where torches hung on the walls. A large pool of water greeted me, and more water cascaded from above. Pathfinder dipped into the water and burned with bright light.
Two figures stood, heads below the water, chained to the bottom―and not moving.
My heart stopped. My jaw dropped open.
“Brenwar!”
CHAPTER 4
Ben sauntered in and out among the hard-working men and women of the village with a long face. Hammers and saws pounded and ground the wood. Men shouted back and forth to one another. Ropes hoisted up walls. Logs were brought in by horse-drawn carts, and the Legionnaires stood guard. Everyone was working but him this morning, it seemed.
His head ached and his face was swollen. Every step was difficult. He had bruises and scrapes all over him like he’d been skipped over a gravel road. Whatever had slammed him into the ground had been a nasty thing. Strong. Powerful. Familiar. And there had been a smell. It bothered him.
A pair of boys dashed back and forth, rattling their sticks like swords with one another. They stopped and stared at him, blocking his path. One’s hair hung over his eyes and the other’s was closely trimmed.
“We’re going to be Legionnaires,” one said.
“Can you teach us how to kill ettins?” said the other, blowing the hair from his eyes.
Ben rubbed their heads and smiled.
“Not now, but maybe later.”
One kicked at the dirt.
“Ah! I want to learn now.”
Ben squatted down.
“A Legionnaire has to be patient and able to follow orders.” He looked into their eyes. “Can you do that?”
One nodded, but the long-haired one said, “My mother’s always giving me orders. ‘Fill the bucket.’ ‘Shear the sheep.’ ‘Pluck the chickens.’ ‘Skin the rabbits.’ ‘String the beans.’ Blah! I want to get out of this place.”
Ben stuck his chin out a little and bobbed his head. He understood. He’d done all those things hundreds of times if not thousands. His home village of Quinley was a little bigger than this one, but the work was still the same. He didn’t hate being a farmer, but he didn’t love it, either. If anything, it had prepared him for the Legionnaires. The training was tough, but his body and mind were already u
sed to the work. He’d succeeded where many failed.
“I used to love plucking chickens,” he said to them.
The boy’s eyes widened.
“You plucked chickens?” the long-hair said.
The other teetered on his toes.
Ben smiled.
“I was the fastest feather-plucker in the village, and I just loved stringing those beans. You want to know a secret?”
They nodded their heads.
Ben looked around and lowered is voice. “Farm boys make the best Legionnaires. My commander told me so.” He winked. “And I’m a pretty good one, you know.”
“I’m going to be the fastest feather-plucker in my village!”
“No, I am!”
They took off running, tackling and bumping each other all the way back home.
Ben stood up, stretched his back, and smiled. Then he frowned. Giving advice to children made him feel old. And he’d never worried before, but now he was worried about Sasha. He felt responsible, and it left his stomach a little sick. He shuffled along, rubbing the knot on his head.
“I should have gone with them,” he said to himself. “I should be the one to find her. Dragon’s probably mad.” He adjusted his sword belt on his hips. “I can’t fail again.”
He rubbed the bump on his head. It felt like a tomato was growing under his skin. Garrison said it had been the winged ape that grabbed him and tossed him like a fish. But Ben wasn’t so sure. There was something about Garrison that didn’t seem right. Ben had asked his friend several times what he’d seen and what had happened, but the story seemed to go back and forth.
“I’m not sure.”
“It was an ape, like they said.”
Ben knew Garrison wasn’t telling him everything. Dragon had taught him a bit about liars. “Just watch their eyes,” Dragon had said. “Their hands. Sometimes they fidget a little. And sometimes, if you’re wise, you can just tell. Your gut will tell you.”
Garrison’s story, though a bit inconsistent, did seem sincere. His eyes and hands were steady. Maybe too steady. But what would Garrison have to hide?
Ben’s stomach rumbled. He decided to head back to the lodge room and dig up a biscuit. He could smell them better in the air the closer he came. Hot. Buttery. Village or no village, these people were gonna make their biscuits. He patted his tummy. “Well, not all of my body has to be unhappy.”
The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10) Page 49