The Dragons of Bone and Dust (Tales from the New Earth Book 7)

by J. J. Thompson

  The elemental suddenly darted down and picked up something next to the pile of bones. He exclaimed loudly in disgust and then flew back to Simon.

  “This explains a lot,” he said angrily as he handed the wizard a heavy, black object shaped like a dagger.

  It was a claw.

  “Drakes,” Simon hissed in anger.

  “Exactly. At a guess, I'd say that these people survived the initial dragon attack upon their city and tried to retreat to this bunker. Unfortunately the drakes tracked them down and killed them before they could get inside and seal the door.”

  Kronk moved forward and stared sadly at the remains.

  “It is so tragic,” he said in his heavy, bass voice. “Even sadder is the fact that even if they had made it into the shelter safely, they would still have died.” He looked up at Simon. “There were no supplies here. No food, possibly no water if the plumbing system had broken down. They would have died a horrible, lingering death.”

  Simon dropped the claw on the ground and wiped his hand on his robe. After a final glance at the unknown dead, he turned away.

  “Come on, guys. Let's get that chair and go home. I'm suddenly not feeling very cheerful anymore.”

  Chapter 10

  After a good cleaning, the sofa and chair quickly became part of the tower. Simon was especially happy to have a comfy chair in front of the fireplace again. It had been acquired under unhappy circumstances, but at least it was being used again.

  And once his tower officially felt like home again, Simon could no longer avoid it; he had to start the journey to the dwarven capital, Kingstone.

  “Why can't I just Gate there?” he said to the elementals one evening, a few days after their trip to Moscow. “I mean, I Gated into that bunker and that was underground.”

  The wizard was sitting in front of the fireplace, snuggled into the comfy chair and sipping tea. The flames were dancing and the wood smelled sweet as it burned. He was as comfortable as he had ever been and leaving his home to trudge for miles along the endless dwarven tunnels was the last thing he wanted to do.

  Kronk was sitting next to the fireplace, his stumpy legs stretched out in front of him. In the flickering light, he looked like a misshapen pile of coal, except for his burning red eyes.

  Instead of answering, the earthen looked over at Aeris. The misty figure was bobbing quietly a few inches above the floor on the opposite side of the fireplace and seemed a bit surprised that Kronk had deferred to him.

  “Well, there are several factors impeding your spell, my dear wizard,” he replied thoughtfully. “Unlike the bunker, which is only a hundred feet or so below the surface, the tunnels of the dwarfs travel many miles underground. The rock around them is a natural insulate against magic.”

  “Wait a second. How can something insulate against a supernatural power?” Simon asked. “You're making magic sound as mundane as electricity.”

  “But in many ways it is, master,” Kronk interjected. “It is a measurable force, like gravity and electricity and many other sources of power in nature.”

  “Kronk is correct, shockingly,” Aeris said dryly. “There is nothing 'supernatural' about magic, oh great wizard. Why would you even think that?”

  Simon put down his empty cup on the little table beside his chair and sat up. The conversation was beginning to intrigue him.

  “Why? Well, because of what it can do. Summoning fireballs? Gating? Hell, raising the dead? All of that is supernatural, isn't it?”

  Aeris put a hand over his face and shook his head in seeming disbelief while Kronk just stared at the wizard with a puzzled frown.

  “Unbelievable,” the air elemental finally muttered from behind his hand. “I'm working for a child. Well, there go my hopes and dreams for a brighter future.”

  “Hang on there, smart guy,” Simon growled. “What did I say that was so ridiculous?”

  “It wasn't ridiculous, master,” Kronk told him quickly. “Just a little, um...”

  “Stupid,” Aeris cut in. “Do you mean to say that after all you have seen and done as a wizard, you still think that magic is unnatural?”

  Simon slid his legs underneath him and settled back into his chair.

  “Okay, enlighten me. How would you define it? And leave the insults aside,” he added sternly.

  Aeris hesitated and then half-bowed.

  “Apologies, my dear wizard. My swift tongue betrayed me.”

  “And your lack of manners,” Kronk added with a glare.

  “I'll ignore that, considering the source,” Aeris said. “Now, about magic. We of the air realm have long considered magic as just another form of energy; the other elemental races feel the same, more or less.”

  Kronk nodded silently when Simon glanced at him.

  “And because it is energy, even if it comes from a divine source, it can be affected by the world around it.”

  “Meaning the rock underground?”

  “That, yes, but other things as well. Severe weather can actually alter the outcome of a spell. Running water has been used for ages as a barrier to evil magics. Oh, there are so many examples that I could list them for hours.”

  “Please don't.”

  Aeris looked at Kronk and the earthen returned his look innocently.

  “What? I only meant that I think master understands what you mean.”

  “I do. Hmm, this is really interesting,” Simon said as he absorbed the information.

  So magic can be altered by the environment around it, he thought. I wonder if that can be used to our advantage against the necromancers somehow?

  “You are thinking deep thoughts, master.”

  The wizard looked away from the fire.

  “I am, yes. I've been defining magic in the wrong way all this time. I assumed that because it emanated from the gods, that it was somehow immune to the forces of nature. But if you guys are right, and I have no reason to doubt you, then maybe we can use this in our battle against the Chaos lords and their servants.”

  “How?” Aeris asked. “It's certainly an intriguing idea.”

  “I don't have a clue. Yet. But I'll give it some thought, believe me. Let's put that aside for now though and focus on the immediate future. Kronk, where is the closest entrance to the dwarven tunnels?”

  “Closest to here, master, or closest to their capital city?”

  Simon leaned forward.

  “Do you know where Kingstone is?”

  “Not precisely, master, no. But I do know which tunnel system leads to it. It will be a good place to begin our journey, rather than starting close to the tower.”

  “Good thinking. Any idea how long the hike will take? I'm in the best shape of my life right now, thanks to the elven way of life, so I might as well take advantage of that and get started as soon as possible.”

  “As you say, master. I will show you on the atlas; it will be more precise than describing the location.”

  He jumped up and tip-tapped across the room to the stairs.

  “Are you sure you're ready for this?” Aeris asked as they listened to Kronk hopping up the steps.

  “What do you mean? I'm in great shape; I just told you that.”

  “Don't get snarky, my dear wizard. I didn't mean physically; I meant magically. You've been practicing, I know, but it hasn't been that long since your return. What happens if we meet enemies along the way? Are you ready to do battle?'

  Simon held the elemental's eyes with his own for a few seconds and then grinned broadly.

  “Bring it on,” he said and stood up.

  He walked over to the counter, picked up the kettle and set it over the fire.

  “I feel like a racehorse just waiting for the signal to run. It's strange but I've never felt so energized.”

  Aeris flew up and settled on to the counter top next to Simon.

  “Not so strange, I suppose. I mean, you've been gone a long time and during your absence you've been unable to use your powers. And now that you are home and yo
ur magic has rushed in to fill the vacuum inside of you, you are brimming with power. Just try not to let it go to your head.”

  Simon laughed at him as he scooped up a spoonful of powdered tea leaves and dropped it into his cup.

  “This from the guy who rushes headlong into impossible situations with hardly any plan. I wonder if that would be called irony?”

  “Don't remind me,” Aeris replied. “And that's not how I usually operate, you know. It's just that I've had some, err, bad luck.”

  “Letting the insane queen of the dragons chase you halfway across a desert hoping to get a sample of her blood wasn't bad luck; it was practically suicidal.”

  Aeris smiled a bit sheepishly.

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, it worked, didn't it?”

  They both turned to look as Kronk came clattering back down the stairs.

  “I have it, master,” he said as he skittered across the room with the large atlas held over his head. It looked like the book was dancing as it came toward them and Simon snorted a laugh.

  He reached down and picked up the thick tome.

  “Thanks, Kronk. Hop up and show me where this tunnel approaches the surface.”

  The earthen jumped up on to the kitchen table and Simon put the atlas down in front of him.

  “It's not through that cave in Russia, is it?” Aeris asked as he joined Kronk. “That isn't the fondest of memories for me.”

  “No, it isn't,” Kronk told him as he leafed through the book. “And the city nearest to that tunnel isn't the capital.”

  Simon took the boiling kettle off of the fire and made his tea.

  “You really seem to know a lot about the dwarves,” he commented as he sat down at the table. “I thought that the earth elementals were barred from their cities.”

  “All elementals are forbidden entry, master. But I remember their cities from the ancient past. We were not always on such poor terms with the rock people. Once we were practically friends.”

  The wizard sipped his tea as he digested this information.

  “So what happened? Shandon mentioned it once, but he was a little vague. And you two haven't been much more forthcoming. It was your leaders' fault, wasn't it?”

  The elementals exchanged an uncomfortable look and Kronk went back to searching through the atlas.

  “We are not permitted to discuss that time with outsiders, my dear wizard,” Aeris said quietly. “Not even with an ally such as yourself. Our leaders are, perhaps, a little embarrassed by the memory.”

  Kronk stopped flipping pages and stood up abruptly.

  “It was a war, master,” he said as he looked up at Simon. “That much we have already told you. An attempt by our leaders to wrest power from the other elemental realms. Who started it, how it was resolved and how the dwarves became involved, is a forbidden subject. Forgive me that I cannot tell you more.”

  Simon smiled his understanding.

  “It's okay, guys. I'm well aware that your rulers always know what you are saying if they choose to listen. And I don't want to get you into trouble. I was just curious, that's all. Let's let it go for now. Any luck finding that location, Kronk?”

  “Yes master.” The little guy knelt down and tapped on the open book. “It is here.”

  He turned the atlas so that Simon could see where he was pointing.

  “Huh. That's practically in the middle of old Europe. Well, almost.”

  He squinted down at the map.

  “The Alps? Seriously? Oh crap, you know how much I hate mountains. They're always so icy and cold.”

  “I am sorry, master, but that is the best spot to enter the dwarven tunnels. The cave that leads downward isn't at the top,” Kronk added brightly.

  “Well, I guess that's something,” Simon muttered. “Are you sure that the entrance still exists? You said you remembered these places from ancient times.”

  The little guy nodded vigorously.

  “Oh yes, master. I am sure that it does. Although their contact with the surface is minimal, the dwarves have always made sure that the tunnels and their entrances were kept relatively clear and in good repair. Even if it is blocked, I am sure that I will be able to make a way for you to enter.”

  Simon pulled a piece of paper off of a pile he kept on the table, fished a battered old pencil out of a pocket and carefully wrote down the coordinates of the target.

  “Okay guys, I guess there's no point in putting this off. I really want to see the survivors from Nottinghill again. Not just to ensure their safety, but to come up with a plan to beat back the darkness so that we can start retaking our world again. Are you both okay with leaving tomorrow?”

  “Any time you wish,” Aeris told him agreeably.

  “Yes, master. The horses are doing well and can come and go from the stable as they please. And the crops will be fine for a few days. I will ask my people to watch over everything in our absence, just in case.”

  Simon got up and stretched. He yawned as he left his cup in the sink and headed for the stairs.

  “Great. Then I'd better get some sleep. See you in the morning.”

  The next day, Simon crawled out of bed early, bleary-eyed and rather cross. He'd been so pumped up about the trip that sleep had been hard to come by and he'd spent a good chunk of the night tossing and turning.

  It wasn't the best way to start a journey, he had to admit.

  After a quick swim in the lake to help him wake up and get clean, the wizard ate some early strawberries that Kronk had picked out in the forest, had two cups of tea and got organized.

  In his old pack he took several changes of clothing, dried rations of fruit and venison, a canteen and other odds and ends. And he tied an old sleeping bag he kept in storage to the bottom of the pack. It wasn't luxurious, but it would be better than sleeping on solid rock.

  He decided to wear a gray robe that blended well with dark stone. Kronk approved.

  “You can never be too careful, master,” the little guy said as he watched Simon prepare. “There are more dangers in the deep now than there have been in years; we will have to be cautious.”

  “Between your senses, Aeris' scouting skills and some decent luck, we should be fine,” the wizard replied as he stared at the open pack, wondering what he'd forgotten.

  “Take your dagger, my dear wizard,” Aeris said as he flew in through the open front door.

  “Why? I've got old Mortis over there,” he replied and nodded at the staff that was leaning against the wall.

  “One can never be too careful. Besides, you may need a knife to cut up your food; the dagger was one of the first things you ever enchanted, isn't it?”

  “One of the only things, actually,” Simon told him. “Where the hell is it anyway? I'm surprised I haven't lost it over the past five years or so.”

  “It is in your desk, master,” Kronk said. “I've seen it in there several times.”

  “I'll get it,” Aeris volunteered and zipped across the room and up the stairs.

  “Have you spoken to the other earthen?” Simon asked the little guy as he closed and tied his pack.

  “Yes, master. They will watch over the tower and seal it at night. You have recharged your wards, so most monsters will avoid the area. It should be fine.”

  “Should be. Yeah, I know there are no guarantees when it comes to safety these days. Okay, I guess that's it then. I said goodbye to Chief and the mares when I went for a swim, so that's it.”

  He grabbed his heavy boots from the cabinet near the door and slipped them on just as Aeris came downstairs again, carrying a sheathed dagger.

  “Here you go. Just slip it on to your belt. The enchantment is still intact; that much I can feel just by holding it.”

  Simon slipped the old blade from its sheath and examined it. It was covered with crude runes that he had etched on it himself, barely understanding what they'd meant. God, that seemed like ages ago.

  He'd worn this very dagger the last time he had vis
ited Ottawa. How long had it been, four years? Time flies when you're trying to survive, he thought wryly.

  He held up the dagger and invoked its power with a simple thought; something he could never have done back then.

  The blade ignited; blazing brightly with intense red flames.

  “Ah master, it still works! You crafted a good weapon.”

  Simon shook the dagger and the flames vanished with a gentle poof. He slipped it back into its sheath and hung it off of his belt by its leather ties.

  “I didn't craft the dagger, Kronk; I just added the runes. I think I'm lucky that I never had to use it. Hopefully that luck holds.”

  “Hopefully,” Aeris repeated quietly.

  Simon walked over to Mortis de Draconis and picked it up.

  “Ready for an adventure?” he asked it with a smile.

  The staff didn't answer, of course, but he almost thought that it felt lighter than usual as he slung it over his shoulder and slipped an arm through its carrying strap.

  He hung his pack off of his other shoulder and looked around the room one last time.

  “Are we forgetting anything?” he asked the elementals. “If so, now's the time to mention it.”

  Both of them shook their heads and then Aeris grinned.

  “One last bathroom break?” he said to Simon.

  The wizard had to laugh at the dig. Elementals, of course, never needed to use the facilities.

  “Not a bad idea actually. Close and lock the door, would you? I'll meet you both outside.”

  Using the coordinates from the atlas, Simon Gated to their destination. One reason he had wanted to leave as early as possible was the time difference. It was six hours later at the spot they were traveling to, and he wanted to reach it with plenty of daylight to spare.

  The three of them were thrust from the Void into a narrow valley. Thick nettles covered the ground from one side of the depression to the other. They caught on Simon's robe and wrapped around his boots. An acidic smell rose up from them as he moved and it made his eyes water.

  “Oh for... Cripes, it's like wading through mud,” he exclaimed angrily as he tried to move. “Kronk, where are we going?”