“I didn’t have my scales then,” he said to himself as several of the hornets tried to sting him. “I had to be more careful. One of your brothers still managed to put a knot on my chin.”
He blew another ring of smoke, scooted over the branch, stretched out his arms, and plucked off the nest. The hornets started to cover his arms, chest and face. He hopped out of the tree, landed on cat’s feet, and made his way back toward the river canyon’s edge.
“This better work,” he said, eyeing the mystic vial though the coat of hornets he wore. He flipped the cork off the vial, stuffed the vial into the nest, and poured.
One … two …
The nest sprang to life.
Three!
He slung the nest high in the air. Over a hundred feet up it went, reaching its zenith, where the entire nest seemed to hover for a moment.
Come on, now, work!
The hive exploded in a burst of buzzing golden light. Dozens of hornets, maybe hundreds, grew ten times in size and streaked through the sky. Their golden wings buzzed with roaring fury. They zigzagged like sparkling gold fishing lures in the air, scattering everywhere.
A dragon roar caught Nath’s ear. Followed by another and another. He dashed beneath a leafy overhang in the rocks.
Dragons streaked through the sky, jaws wide and snapping. Their eyes were wild, and their wings beat in chase.
The golden-winged hornets looked like huge flying gold nuggets to the dragons.
The skies filled with chaotic roars that echoed off the rocks. The hornets buzzed in fury. They flew through the skies, into the forest, and beyond. Hundreds of hornets and dozens of dragons.
Nath stepped out of his hiding place and dusted off his hands.
“That should keep them tied up for a few hours. Just like fish, dragons love shiny things.”
He sauntered over to the ledge and faced the nearest hanging rock. It was a twenty-foot leap away and about ten feet up. He stepped back a few paces.
I’d better get a run at this.
He dashed over the ground and flung himself upward.
Too far! Too far!
He glided over the floating rock, stretched out his arms, and splashed into the river. Emerging, he yelled, “Great Dragons!”
He swam to the riverbank and climbed the vines. Standing on the ledge again, he flung water off his arms and said, “Let’s try that again.”
He leapt up in a perfect arc and landed flat on his feet on the floating rock. It teetered. He steadied himself with his arms, and with his keen eyes he traced a path to the city, on the floating stones.
It took another long hop impossible to man, followed by another and another. Every rock was different than the last. Some were big enough for many, and some barely big enough for him. One slip, and he’d have to start all over again. Halfway across, he looked down at the river rushing far beneath him. The wind whipped his hair, and every rock he landed on wobbled and teetered.
There must be another way they came up here.
He crouched, craning his neck toward the sky. If a dragon saw him, he’d be an easy mark.
Keep moving. Halfway there.
He leapt onto stone after stone after stone. Some went up. Some down. Some left. Some right. His path spiraled, but he was getting closer. He stood on a smaller stone, barely wider than his shoulders, balancing himself. The next stone was a big one twenty feet wide and ten feet high, but it was more than thirty feet away. He gathered his legs under him. Tried to steady himself in the wind.
I can do this.
His legs exploded upward. Up he was going with his arms stretched out when a gust of wind hit him. He landed on his chest on the rock, with his legs dangling off. His fingers clawed at the rock. The rock titled toward him. When he started to slide off, Nath caught a glimpse of the water rushing beneath him.
I’m not doing this again. For Bayzog!
He raised his arm up and slammed it down like pounding a nail. By digging one set of claws into the rock after another, he heaved himself up, legs and all.
“Whew!” he said, drawing his arm across his forehead. He stood up, looked down at the river, and waved. “That should be the worst of it.”
A growl rumbled behind him.
He whipped his head around.
“Sultans of Sulfur!”
All he saw was dragon teeth and scales.
CHAPTER 29
“What is this place?” Brenwar said.
Otter Bone had led them for hours through the forest, using Brenwar and Bayzog as eyes. Bayzog couldn’t help but be impressed. Considering the fact that the sage was blind, he gave excellent directions.
“A hideout,” Otter Bone said in his firm but smoky voice. “Of sorts. We’ll wait here until the others arrive.”
Bayzog rubbed his belly. He’d been nauseous the entire walk, but he was getting better. He took a seat on small wine barrel and leaned back against the cave wall. They were a few dozen feet deep in a cave that opened like a mouth into a forest. He closed his aching eyes and took deep breaths through his nose.
“The queasiness will pass,” Otter Bone said, shuffling over and staring right past him with glassy eyes. “Most likely by tomorrow.” He stretched out his work-laden hands with heavy knots for knuckles.
Bayzog grabbed one of those hands and led him down into a sitting position.
“Your hands are awfully rough for a sage,” Bayzog said.
“Yours aren’t exactly soft for a wizard, or an elf,” Otter Bone said back. “I used to be a fisherman until the gift came to me. Over fifty years from birth I’d fished, when blindness struck me and a new sight was revealed to me. This cave,” he said, craning his neck around, “I lived here alone for over a decade. Everyone thought madness was upon me.” He sighed. “So did I. Those were dark times.”
Brenwar picked up a wine casket, shook it, and tossed it down. One by one, he went through a dozen of them.
“Your hideout doesn’t have any rations.”
“They will come,” Otter Bone said. “They will come.” He nudged Bayzog. “I thought dwarves were more patient.”
“They are,” Bayzog said. “They’re just testy around strangers.”
“Are you jesting, Wizard?”
“It’s not a normal thing for me, but it’s been known to happen.”
“Heh,” Otter Bone chuckled. “You might have made for good River Folk in more peaceful times.” He laid a hand on Bayzog’s shoulder. “I apologize for making you sick, Bayzog.”
Bayzog could sense the man’s sincerity, but he was still uneasy. Otter Bone knew things, and by and large, sages weren’t trustworthy. They considered themselves servants of the world more than champions for good over evil. They were known to align themselves with whichever side suited them at the moment.
“No need to apologize. I’m sure you did what you felt you had to do.”
“I did.”
“Well, no, you didn’t. There is often more than one way to achieve a common goal, if indeed the goal is common.”
“You wouldn’t have made it,” Otter Bone hissed, shaking his head. “I have seen it.”
“Are your visions always right?”
Otter Bone shrugged.
“I’ve never known one to be wrong so far.”
Brenwar kicked a wine casket farther down the cave, sat down, and sulked in gloom.
Bayzog left it at that. He’d already discussed Otter Bone’s visions with the sage and Brenwar. It didn’t sit well with him. It didn’t seem possible that Nath would be safer without them. Certainly, a formidable party of many is better than a party of one? He’d give it some time for now. Otter Bone had his ways, and he had his own. Nath at least needs to know that I am all right.
Hours had passed when Brenwar stirred. Figures entered the darkness of the cave. The outline of Horse Neck’s burly form took shape. A moment later, Ben appeared. He shoved his way past Horse Neck and came right at Otter Bone.
“Don’t trust this lying old man!�
� Ben said, holding his bound wrists in front of Brenwar. “He’s a deceiver!”
Brenwar slit the cords on Ben’s wrists and said, “We’ve established that much.”
Ben poked Otter Bone in the chest.
“He’s treacherous—ulp!”
Horse Neck wrapped his big arms around Ben’s wide shoulders and squeezed.
“Don’t ever touch my father—Ow!”
Ben drove his boot into Horse Neck’s shin. The goon’s arms slackened. In a flash, Ben grabbed him by the arm, twisted his hips under him, and flipped him over his shoulder, where the brute landed hard on the ground. Ben’s fist pounded on Horse Neck’s ribs.
Jab! Jab! Jab!
Slobbering cries of anger came from the man’s mouth.
“You’ll pay! You’ll pay!”
Ben locked him up in an arm bar and applied pressure.
“OOOOW!”
“What was that?” Ben said, twisting harder. “Are you calling for your cows?”
“OOOOOW!”
“Stop this!” Bayzog said, rising to his feet. “His cries will carry to the town.”
Ben snarled and released the man. Brenwar gave him an approving nod. Horse Neck moaned and pushed himself up from the stone floor of the cave. His heavy eyes glared at Ben.
“Let it go, Nephew,” Otter Bone said, “Let it go.”
Horse Neck rose up, spat dirt from his mouth, and lumbered out of the cave.
“He’s protective,” Otter Bone said, staring blankly at Ben, “and he’s not such a bad man, most of the time.”
“Do you care to tell me what is going on?” Ben said to Bayzog, wiping the dirt from his elbows. “Where’s Dragon?”
While a pair of Otter Bone’s henchmen brought in some rations, Bayzog filled Ben in on the details. Ben’s brow stayed furrowed the entire time, and his glare remained hot on Otter Bone.
“We should be done with this sage,” Ben said, scooping Akron up from its spot alongside Brenwar’s chest. “You can’t trust a thing he says. They stuck me in a hole, Bayzog. A dirt hole with a wooden crate and ratty carpet over it.
“It was for your protection,” Otter Bone said. “You were a danger to yourself and others. Whose idea was it to send this man into the River Cities with aversion balm on him?”
“It worked!”
“Hah,” Otter Bone said. “It did no such thing. The overseers of Barnabus have eyes and ears on everything. They would have sniffed you out soon enough. I saved you from a certain doom. All of you.”
“You keep saying that,” Brenwar said with his mouth stuffed with jerky, “But I don’t believe a word of it.” He took a slug of wine from a bottle the henchmen had brought. “But this wine is not so horrible.” He shared the bottle with Ben, who shared it with Bayzog, who took a sip.
“Not so bad,” the wizard said. “Not elven, but not so bad at all.”
“Good that you think so,” Otter Bone said. “It should ease your minds and settle your bones. We’ve a long wait ahead.”
“Nath Dragon moves fast,” Ben said, rummaging through the rations and grabbing a clay jug of water. “He’ll be back tomorrow. You’ll see.”
“I wish I did see,” Otter Bone said, his voice low and eerie. “I don’t see anything, but I’m certain of this. His journey into the Floating City, it won’t be over in a day. It will take many days, if not weeks.”
Ben dropped the clay jug onto the ground, where it shattered with a crash.
“What!”
CHAPTER 30
Nath jerked away.
“Argh!”
A claw snapped down on his arm with the power of an iron trap. A dragon had a hold of him.
Nath drew his free arm back and socked it in the ribs. The dragon shook him like a rag, slamming his head into the stone. Bright spots of light burst in his eyes, and blood trickled down his scalp, over his nose. He eyed the creature.
A spiny-backed crawler. Cripes!
Half the size of Nath, its burgeoning abdomen dragged over the stone as it tried to sling him back and forth. With a neck thick as a tree trunk, its snout was long and wide. It had four short legs with six claws each, and its sandstone-colored wings were clawed as well. More like a lizard, no horns adorned its wide flat head. Rows of small spikes covered its back, which looked glassy in the sunlight.
“Let go!” Nath said, punching it again.
It shook him like a dog tearing away a bone.
Eyes watering, Nath held back his cry and drew back his fist once more.
The spiny back’s eyes followed the move. Jaws locked, its thin lips curled up over its sharp teeth. It rumbled a growl.
“Great Dragons!”
Spiny-backed crawlers—a smallish breed—tended to hide along riverbanks and dry stretches of land. They liked to dig and tunnel. Patient, they’d wait for their prey from beneath the grit and strike quicker than a flying arrow. Once their jaws locked, there was no unlocking them unless their prey killed them.
Nath tried to dash the sweat out of his eyes by blinking. He shook his head, looked deep into the dragon’s eyes, and spoke in Dragonese to it.
“Release me.”
The dragon bit down harder.
Nath’s tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. The dragon was moments away from taking his arm off at the elbow. Spiny-backs’ teeth were some of the hardest and sharpest of them all. They could bite through steel with them.
Think, Nath Dragon, Think!
The dragon shook its thick neck again.
Nath heard Fang rattle on his back. With his good arm, he reached back and slipped Dragon Claw out of the hilt. He waved the glimmering blade in front of the dragon’s watching eyes.
“Don’t make me use this,” he said in Dragonese. If he had to kill a dragon to save Bayzog, then so be it. Blood racing, he drew Dragon Claw back. “I’ll do what I must do.”
Its jaws bit deeper.
Nath groaned, brought the dagger down, and stopped inches from its back. He eyed its wings. One dangled on its side, broken. The other, hemmed into its side, was fine. It fluttered a bit and stopped. Nath jabbed Dragon Claw into the rock.
“Your eyes, tail and wings,” he said, swallowing, “they aren’t darkened.” He reached over and stroked its broken wing.
The dragon jerked a little.
Nath sucked through his teeth and said in more Dragonese, “Easy … friend.” He inspected the wing more. It had been gnawed up, and the joint between the wing and back was broken. It would take a long time to heal. Flying dragons without their wings were not only vulnerable but insecure as well. Ignoring the pain exploding in his head, he stroked the dragon over the eyes. “Who did this to you?”
The scaly brows on the dragon lifted up toward the city in the sky.
“I see,” Nath said, looking up and around, not forgetting the hornets and dragons were still in chase. “Great.” He took a seat on his rump, with the dragon attached to his forearm. It seemed that along with its injury, the spiny-back had received new orders. Another dragon must have flown down and ordered it to guard the pass over the rock with its life. Nath stroked its eyes again. A blast of smoke came from its nostrils. “Despite your effort to detach my arm from my elbow, I do consider this good fortune. Your bite is far less revealing than your lack of roar. If you’d roared, dragons certainly would have swarmed me.”
The spiny-backed dragon’s eyes remained intent on his, fierce and unblinking.
Alright, Nath Dragon, there’s no time for this. All those dragons will return soon enough. What options do you have? He eyed Dragon Claw. If I must, I must. He peered over the rock. He could always plunge into the river waters below and hope to shake the dragon off. Perhaps then it would let go.
“That’s your stupidest idea ever, Nath Dragon!”
Great. Now I’m talking to myself.
At the moment, he was at the mercy of the dragon. He wasn’t going anywhere. He closed his eyes and sighed. Suddenly, he heard his father’s voice speaking inside his head.
Sometimes compassion can be a friend to your enemies.
His head snapped up.
“Father?”
He searched the skies. The clouds. Only the wind howling through the rocks answered. He looked at the dragon and said, “Did you hear that?”
The dragon didn’t move. Nath had chills on his neck, and it felt like the scales on his arms stood up. As much as he had dreaded his father’s throne-shaking voice in the past, he longed for it now.
Perhaps I’m just recalling something I’ve long forgotten.
He patted the dragon. Rubbed the scales around its neck in the tender spots they enjoyed. Even dragons had places they couldn’t scratch that itched. He heard a growl and stopped.
“Was that your belly?”
The heavy belly rumbled and groaned.
“My, you’ve been up here awhile. Years perhaps, judging by that moan.” Nath’s brows buckled. A fire ignited inside and drowned out the piercing pain in his arm. “Whoever did this is a cruel master.” He thought of the poachers. The hunt. The chase. For more than a hundred years, he had protected the dragons. Freed them from bondage. Freed them from chains. He felt ashamed. He’d lost sight of that somehow in the greater scheme of things.
“You know where you belong?”
It didn’t answer.
“Dragon Home,” he said, but in Dragonese. A lengthy and exotic name that had more bends than a river and syllables only heard in dreams.
A wink of golden light zipped high overhead. The sleek silhouette of a dragon streaked right behind it. Nath’s fingertips tingled. The chase of the golden hornets was almost over.
“Please let me go,” he urged.
The dragon’s eyes were stone cold.
“Ah, moving a mountain would be easier. Great Dragons!”
He looked at the next floating stone he needed to leap upon along his path to the Floating City. It didn’t look so bad. Perhaps this was the breaking point. The place no other had ever gotten past.
“Fine then,” Nath said to the dragon. With his good arm, he scooped up the spiny-backed dragon and pulled him to his chest. The dragon remained still as a steel trap. It was awkward. Like carrying a big scaly dog.
Strife In The Sky (Book 7) Page 10