Another Stupid Trilogy

by Bill Ricardi

  Once her lungs were filled with temperate air for the first time in hours, Tara called out, “Master Aharon? It’s Tara McGoldberg and some of my friends.”

  The distant, gruff reply came immediately, “Great. Come straight forward. Stay out of the private rooms.”

  We exchanged quiet glances, but the greeting was in line with the expectations that Tara set. With the minotaur leading, we delved more deeply into the observatory.

  The source of welcoming heat became apparent when we entered the central dome chamber. Copper sconces sprouted from the wall every few feet. Gouts of flame, far more impressive than those coming from the small lighting fixtures at the Arcane University, threw light and heat everywhere. Natural gas torches; there had to be two dozen of them ringing the room.

  Once my eyes adjusted to the prominence of flame within the chamber, I was able to pick out some interesting details. Melflavin’s holy symbol had been beautifully etched on the dome above us. But that wasn’t the only thing above our heads. The entire observation platform was raised above the level of the brick walls. Four iron rods sprouted from gear assemblies, which themselves were attached to hand cranks. They disappeared into the perimeter walls, presumably controlling the rotation of the telescope and surrounding dome. Only Melflavin’s people and certain human engineering teams mastered this level of mechanical prowess.

  A deep voice from somewhere within the metal scaffolding said, “Just stay out of the way. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be down shortly.”

  There was a series of rapid clicks, followed by a grinding sound. Over the course of the next two minutes, the great telescope slowly dipped and swiveled to face the northern skies, and the outer shell of the dome moved with it. When the racket ceased, there was a steady metallic thumping: Hooves meeting an iron grate.

  The minotaur that made his way down that final flight of stairs was unlike any I’d ever seen before. His fur was a wild, reddish gray hue. He was tall, and would have left Toby at least two handbreadths in his shadow. But at the same time, he was neither wiry nor muscular. This beast was heavy set, bordering on plump. He didn’t bother hiding that well padded belly and chest, likely satisfied with the copious heat in his observatory. He did wear workman’s pants, cut off at the knees. They managed to contain the minotaur’s ample rump and bulging thighs.

  Tara greeted the man, “Master Aharon, hello. Thank you for helping us in this dire time.”

  Aharon half heartedly held out a hand for shaking. He barely made it through one pump up and down before he was releasing Tara’s hand. “Yeah. Well, didn’t have much of a bloody choice did I?”

  The minotaur astronomer’s tone was definitely irritated, bordering on angry. Having been around Toby and Tara so much, the difference was jarring.

  Tara sighed a little bit. She said, “No sir, I’m sorry about that.”

  The old minotaur snorted. “Don’t get all weepy on me girl. I know whose fault this bull crap is, and it ain’t you. Relax.”

  Aharon eyed the rest of us for a moment. Then he said, “Benno, Ames, and Sorch, right?”

  Benno’s eyes widened, “You’ve heard of us, sir?”

  The old minotaur rolled his eyes. “Hells no, boy. It was in the Message. Young orc, cat, big-deal orc. Or so I’m told.” He paused and then said, “You look like crap.”

  Ames growled, dryly, “You’re not looking so great yourself, tenderloin.”

  Tara looked like she wanted to curl up and die. Even I thought that Ames had gone a bit far with that remark.

  But surprisingly, the old bull bellowed with laughter. “You. You’re the one I like. Come on kitty cat, I’m going to show you how to work a real man’s tool.” He clarified the statement by gesturing up to the telescope. As Aharon stomped back up the stairs, he shouted over his shoulder, “Pay attention while I show the were-cat how to make the minor adjustments. Then set up your bedrolls in the Northwest corner, out of the way. Rest until it’s your turn at the eyepiece. Could be a long night.”

  Tara murmured to Benno and I, “I’m sorry about all that.”

  I shrugged and murmured, “He’s not so different from some of the old sailors I know, dear. It’s fine. Just a bit of a culture shock when you’re used to… well, you and Toby.”

  Aharon set the focus of the lenses to the correct general distance. He showed us how to use the crank to make fine left-to-right adjustments of the telescope’s facing. We could also pull a lever to switch to up-and-down adjustments using the same hand crank. It took Ames a little bit of practice, but eventually, the feline’s technique met with Aharon’s approval.

  The big minotaur descended, and then brushed past us. He said, “I’m going to sleep for a while. Don’t break anything. Shout if you spot your flying shadow.” And with that, the old minotaur went into his private chambers and slammed the door.

  We decided on two hours shifts at the eyepiece. Ames started, then Tara, followed by Benno, then myself. Which meant that I was sound asleep in the corner of the observatory when I was woken by Benno’s sharp, clear cry.

  “Dragon!”

  I was up in a heartbeat. It was a parental reaction. When your child shouts like that, no matter how old or how capable they may be, you leap to their defense.

  Tara ran to knock on Master Aharon’s door as Ames and I hurried up the metal steps. I watched Benno’s right hand crank ever so slowly, so that he was tracking along with the motion of his target.

  I whispered in his ear, “You got ‘em, boy?”

  He murmured, “Yes.”

  I said, “Show your old man.”

  Benno slipped to the side a fraction, while maintaining his slow tracking. I bent to put my eye to the viewing lens.

  I only took a quick look. Frankly, I didn’t need more than that. No matter how distant the creature was, it seemed terrifyingly close. I saw the ease with which the draconic creature kept itself aloft. I witnessed the soulless gaze that scanned the horizon and the ground. Perhaps most frightening, I saw the seemingly perfect coat of gray metallic scales rippling over the creature’s chest and belly. Not a single scar. Like it had never been injured. Like it couldn’t be injured.

  Everyone took a turn at the viewpiece before Aharon managed to rouse himself and make his way over to the telescope.

  “Alright, out of the way. Let’s see what this nonsense is all about.”

  Upon getting his turn at the lens, the minotaur snorted derisively. I thought for a moment that the old man was going to tell us that it was just a flying lizard, no bigger than the size of Lizzy. But with each moment of observation, Master Aharon’s shoulders dropped a fraction. With every subtle adjustment of the lens, the huge minotaur’s hand shook more violently.

  He stood suddenly, and with a tight, hoarse voice, he commanded, “Keep tracking it boy.” Given the circumstances, I could forgive Aharon’s reference to my son. Benno quickly bent to his task, using those nimble fingers to keep the dragon in view.

  Aharon half staggered over to his writing podium. His big hand shook as he wrote his observations, saying them loud for our benefit.

  “Subject is between fifty and fifty-five paces in length. Mass is equivalent to a sperm whale. Cruising speed of forty miles in an hour. Peak speed unknown. Subject thought to be a dragon. Sub species - Unidentified. Closest matching from lore… Stasis Dragon. Witnessed by four other observers. Let the record reflect that the documenter is sober and arguably sane.”

  With that, the quill slipped from the minotaur’s grasp. He stood, staring at what he just wrote. It was clear that the bull man was petrified.

  Tara walked over and reached up to grasp Master Aharon’s thick shoulders. She massaged and squeezed them, saying the old minotaur’s name over and over again until he made some kind of response. After half a minute, Aharon made a request, his voice trembling with fear.

  “Young Benno, describe to me what you see.”

  My son kept up the gentle tracking as he spoke, “It looks like a dragon from the books of
lore. A giant flying lizard. It might be a trick of the light, but the scales look gray. The wings they… they don’t seem to beat as frequently as they should. That kind of flight seems impossible.”

  The old minotaur agreed, “Yes. Yes, go on.”

  “Its neck can crane around in just about any direction. The tail is long and powerful, almost acting like an air rudder. And th-”

  Suddenly Benno jumped, as if shocked. He quickly put his eye back to the eyepiece as he said, “Holy hells did it… I think it just breathed chunks of ice, or boulders! Some kind of solid stream, onto something below it.”

  Aharon choked on his words the first time, and had to try again. He managed to say, “Untime. The icy rock of untime.”

  Benno murmured the word, like he was tasting it on his lips, “Untime.”

  Tara squeezed the Master’s shoulders, hard. “Aharon. What is that thing?”

  He brushed Tara’s hands from his shoulders, and then turned to face us all. “What you kids have there is the Stasis Dragon. It is a creature of legend. A fairy tale. A myth.”

  Ames said, “I think you had better tell us the fairy tale, Master Aharon. I don’t think any of us have heard it.”

  The old minotaur laughed, bitterly. “Because it’s so ridiculous as to be stupid. Elves used to tell it to their babies. When the world of Panos was created by the gods, they used a powerful artifact. What you have identified as your ‘Original Engine’. But what if they created something that was a mistake? Something that they need to remove entirely, something whose presence needed to cease and not be able to interact with anything else, or decay, or be found several millennia later? What if they needed to erase something from the world?”

  We all glanced to the North, instinctively. Benno’s normally steady hand was shivering as he manipulated the crank to keep his quarry in sight.

  Master Aharon said, “The Stasis Dragon was supposedly how they accomplished that. It could remove something, or someone, from the flow of time. Make it unreachable, irrecoverable. Instantly dead, instantly isolated, instantly… nothing. The shell of what it once was, doomed to sink like a stone through sand and water. It would be absorbed back into the core of Panos, and never be seen again.”

  I heard enough. I said, “Please get all of your notes together. We’ll need a copy for our return. I’m going to let Max know what we’re up against.”

  I went back to the corner where our furs and blankets were laid out. I sat for a minute, composing my thoughts, before taking out a strand of copper wire and murmuring the incantation.

  I sent my Message to Max: ‘Foe is Stasis Dragon. Elves know lore. Bringing details home. May be counter-probe from Original Engine. Heading home shortly.’

  It took a few moments for Max to formulate a sane reply at this hour of the morning. Then he responded with: ‘All deliberating parties will be told about new urgency. Going to press for final decision by time the group returns. Sending Aharon help.’

  I mounted the steps again, and let everyone know Max’s reply. “Master Aharon, you can expect some company in a few hours. Likely one of our archmages with a couple of journeymen from the Transport Guild. We need them to help you track this and send reports back to us. And, well. You’ll want the company I imagine.”

  The shaking minotaur nodded quickly, not particularly wanting to be alone after what he just witnessed.

  To everyone else, I simply said, “Let’s pack up. It’s mostly a downhill trip. Benno, do you remember our trick?”

  My son groaned. Which meant he remembered.

  “Get a Message to Divine, then we go.”

  As Benno sent warning to the yetis, we made sure that Master Aharon was going to be alright on his own for now. He pulled himself together quickly, and assured us that he would be able to keep watch on his own for a while. Once the four of us were packed and properly dressed, we said our goodbyes to the old minotaur. Then the party made its way down the winding observatory path in the crisp early morning air. We donned snowshoes and walked until the sun crested over the eastern mountains.

  After our first rest period, I said, “Okay, get the netting out. Once the two of you secure Benno and I, you can get on the net in front of us and hold on. Use the Light rods to help us steer as needed.”

  The younger mage said, “This is an awful idea. I was barely able to control it when I was alone.”

  I reminded Benno, “More weight distribution means more stability. Stop being a baby.”

  I had a plan. It was a plan that Benno and I needed to practice several times before getting right. This revolutionary form of transport was inspired by Rick. My human friend once told me that you should never use a Flat Mule on the snow. ‘It tends to shoot off wildly whenever it hits a snowy slope, out of the caster’s control.’ were Rick’s exact words.

  Sure. But what if the caster was lashed to the Flat Mule? What if they constantly bent their will towards controlling the slide? As Benno and I soon discovered, the result was quite spectacular. After several disastrous results, my son and I mastered the dangerous technique.

  We summoned our Flat Mules. Tara and Ames wrapped us and all of our possessions in ropes and netting, before climbing into the nest of restraints. Ames was with me, Tara with Benno. Were-cat and minotaur wielded rods that they could dig into the snow as needed to help with turning and slowing down.

  I called over to my son, “Okay, forward. Let’s go.”

  Soon, we were sliding. Very, very fast.

  There was some terrified shouting. This was nothing like wolf riding. The sense of control was entirely in the caster’s mind. Gravity was only meaningful as a component of speed. The caster had to use snow banks and hills as a kind of natural guiding force. Fight against it and you would lose control. Use it to your advantage and the result was better control over speed and direction.

  When Benno and I were once again used to this form of locomotion, the screams of fear turned into breathless laughter. We even started to race on the more level stretches of our downhill journey. Benno quickly realised that the extra weight that Tara provided was a boon going downhill, but made cornering more difficult. Still, my son ‘won’ more often than I.

  In minutes, we slid the same distance that took us an hour the day before. We would be back at the Arcane University within two hours at this rate.

  That was assuming we didn’t plummet off the side of a cliff. But science had been good to us today, and this new form of travel was the result of dedicated experimentation. Besides. I had a feeling that Panos wasn’t quite through with me just yet.

  Chapter 18

  “It was perfectly safe.” I lied.

  We were sitting on desks and chairs in Master Gideon’s classroom, waiting for the were-wolf to join us and provide an update. Max was still rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t speaking to me directly at this point, and selected Tara as the most reasonable one among us. Relatively so. The cleric was wearing a big smile, exhilarated from the high speed trip back to the Arcane University.

  Max asked the minotaur, “Was it perfectly safe?”

  Tara shook her head. “Absolutely not. I thought we were all going to die!” But even as she said this, she was grinning like a child.

  Benno chimed in with, “We had multiple Soft Fall spells ready. If we went off a cliff.”

  Ames rumbled, “I had my ring.”

  “Perfectly safe.” I insisted.

  The Headmaster said, “You know what? You adventuring fools do whatever you like. But I swear if I find students conducting Flat Mule races down mountainsides, I’ll see to it that all of you… what?”

  Max stopped his rant as he saw us all exchanging guilty glances.

  It was Tara who came clean. “Some of the students who still hadn’t gone home may have, possibly, seen us sliding the final distance into the courtyard.”

  Benno coughed, then said, “It’s possible that, in our excitement, exact instructions for sliding a Flat Mule through the snow might have been passed on.” />
  Max nearly tore out a clump of his wispy white hair. He said, “So we have students hellbent on hanging out with yetis, other students potentially trying to break their necks by racing Flat Mules against each other, and a legendary dragon searching for something nearby and belching clouds of untime everywhere. Does that sum things up?”

  Our murmured affirmations of his statements were a bit more subdued now.

  “I have some good news.”

  We all turned to see Master Gideon stride into the room. The big were-wolf said, “The elves were the last holdouts, and they have finally made their decision. The Transport Guild has already started to relocate the Arcane Syphons from the storage outpost to the staging area in Limt. Will and Rick will take Sorch’s ship and get them loaded up as soon as possible. They’ll head around the southern peninsula, and then back up towards the Great Trench and eventually Braxen. Our plans could move forward within a single day.”

  Relief washed over everyone present. It was the first piece of good news we had heard in a while.

  Max said, “Alright. Let’s get the rest of the students out of here, as well as the staff and all non-combatant teachers. All classes are hereby suspended. We’re going to need everyone who can sling a combat spell down in Braxen, to help our psychics to overload the Arcane Syphons in the Astral. Just in case a simple command won’t do the job.”

  Gideon said, “With that in mind, Hemitath has arranged for our friends in Arbitros to play host to anyone who can’t go home for one reason or another. For a lot of the staff, the University is home. But I don’t think anyone will object to a few days of cultural exchange with the elves. Several of our elven allies will be joining us at the Braxen site, via Sorch’s village and then wolfback.”

  That morning was spent helping the guards execute the mass exodus. Most of the staff was well prepared for their forced vacation. The majority of them opted to go to Arbitros. Some of the students protested that they could still be helpful, but we were hearing none of it. With the aid of the Transport Guild, we got them gathered into as few groups as possible based on their final destinations. Then they were teleported to their home cities, with the remainder going to the southern elves for safe keeping.