Dragon Slayer

by Michael-Scott Earle

  Arieste’s eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth to reply, but then she looked down at her human body and nodded.

  “But if you harm me in any way, I will not hesitate to kill you. Try to run away, and I’ll tell the king who you really are. You will be hunted down.”

  I saw her mind working as she glanced at her body again. Without her ice powers and trapped in this flesh, she wouldn’t last two days in any of the dragon-held lands. Whitespire was the only place where she could find safety and shelter as a human. The last thing she’d want was to have the entire kingdom hunting her. According to Nyvea, humans hated Frosdar and the other three dragons on Iriador only slightly less than they hated Riamod.

  Now, all I had to do was sweeten the pot for her, and she’d be willing to make a deal.

  “And,” I told her, “if you serve me well, I will give you back the power to return to your dragon form.”

  “What?” her eyes flew wide.

  “What?” Nyvea asked at the same time.

  “You said I have your power,” I continued as I folded my arms and gave her my most charming smile, “but I can share some of it with you. You can teach me how, along with everything else I need to learn about magic.”

  Her eyes narrowed again, and I saw her mind working on my offer. It took her less than three seconds to nod her head. “You have my oath that I will serve you well.”

  “Excellent.” I beamed.

  “Why are you going to trust her? She will betray you, Ethan. She’s just a pretty face and a sweet voice.”

  “I can think of another sweet voice that I trust to give me advice, even though she keeps trying to get me to release her from a gemstone necklace,” I said to her in my mind.

  “Hmmm. Fair point, but do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into, Ethan?” Nyvea demanded. “You’re literally striking a deal with an ice dragon. She doesn’t love you like I do.”

  “If it helps me finish Barodan’s quest,” I told her silently. “Won’t that be worth it? If I could just ride a dragon into Riamod’s lands, that would make it much easier to deal with him. It’ll save Whitespire at the same time. Two birds with one stone.”

  Nyvea’s voice went quiet, and I could sense her mulling over the idea. “I underestimated you, handsome,” she said after a long moment. “You’re as smart as you are good-looking.”

  I tried not to grin, but a broad smile broke out on my face.

  “Then, Arieste, we have a deal.” I held out a hand to shake. “I’m Ethan, by the way.”

  She scowled and motioned to her right wrist that was still encased in ice.

  “Oh, right.” I bent over beside her arm and studied the shield. I didn’t want to try to chip it with my axe for fear of hitting her hand, so I fixed her with a lopsided grin. “I guess it’s time for another lesson. You’re going to have to teach me how I can get rid of these shields.”

  It took me a few tries to understand how to reverse the effects of the magic. Calling the power into existence was easy enough because it was a force that wanted to be used. But sending away the magic I’d called into existence turned out to be a lot harder. Arieste turned out to be a pretty good teacher, though I could see the cold fury in her eyes. I knew she hated the fact that I had control of her magic, and there was no doubt in my mind she was probably already scheming how to get it back.

  Finally, I managed to banish the ice shields, and I felt a thrill of triumph as I mastered it. It didn’t matter that it was probably the simplest skill, it was more than I’d had before, and it felt fucking awesome to “level up.”

  “You are a quick study,” Arieste said as she rubbed her freed wrists.

  “Really?” I asked. “That felt like it took me a long time.”

  “Most humans cannot even begin to understand how to harness magical powers. Those who do spend half of their short lives grasping what I just taught you in a few minutes. No, you have power, Ethan.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied me, but then her shoulders shivered, and I realized that she must be freezing cold. Frosdar’s magic in my veins blocked out the chill of the ice cave, but her flimsy dress didn’t offer much warmth.

  “Here, take this,” I said and offered her my fur cloak.

  She eyed me with a hard glare, but finally accepted and wrapped the cloak around her shoulders with visible relief.

  “Let’s get back to the others,” I told her.

  “Others?” she asked, and I saw her body stiffen. “My minions didn’t kill them?”

  “Nope,” I said with a shake of my head. “But don’t worry about them. I’ve got an idea that will explain your presence here easily.”

  She looked skeptical, and there was hesitance in her steps as she followed me from Frosdar’s lair and through the tunnel.

  It was a bit hard for Arieste to walk, and I ended up holding onto her arm after she stumbled for the third time. She actually tried to pull away from me, but I held fast and kept her from tipping over.

  “You don’t seem to know how to use your legs yet,” I said as I nodded down to her long stems.

  “I have you to thank for that,” she growled.

  “Hey,” I replied with a shrug. “I can just leave you here. Or I can tell my friends who you are.”

  “No,” she replied quickly as she leaned into me. “I will come with you and serve you. I already swore I would. It will just take me some time to get used to this human body.”

  “Yeah,” I said as I helped her walk down a set of narrow rock steps. “How old are you?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized I’d just asked a beautiful woman her age, but Arieste didn’t seem offended.

  “We do not count time the same as you humans, but perhaps five-hundred years. I am still young.”

  “Ahh,” I said. “You look about my age in human years.”

  “I still do not understand,” she replied as she fixed her eyes on me. “How did you change me? I have never heard of such a thing. Human magic is nothing compared to the powers that my kind wield.”

  “She’s going to keep asking you until she figures it out and then can reverse it. Don’t tell her.”

  “I don’t know,” I replied to Arieste. “I just took your gemstone to the altar and then you changed.”

  “Hmmm,” she said again as she almost stumbled. “None of this should be happening, but I feel your power. I am drawn to you.”

  “Drawn to me?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Arieste replied. “I can feel your presence, and your touch on my arm brings me pleasure. It is an interesting sensation.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked as I looked down at where my hand touched her slender arm.

  “I do not know how to explain it.” The blonde woman shrugged. “Imagine a belly full of the corpses of your enemies. That is what it feels like when you touch me.”

  “Uhhh, yeah,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m afraid my imagination isn’t that good.”

  “Ahh yes,” she sighed. “Humans don’t eat their enemies. How unfortunate.”

  “Okay,” I said as we approached the part of the cave that was almost back to the entrance. “My friends are just up ahead. No more dragon talk around them. Got it?”

  “I understand,” she said, and I stared into her eyes for a few seconds before I nodded at her.

  Silence descended between us as we continued up the tunnel toward the cavern where Sir Galfred and the Gray Hunters were.

  “Ethan!” Adath’s eyebrows rose in shock as I strode into view. He crouched over one of his men who was bleeding from a gaping wound in his side. “What the hell happened in there?”

  “Oh, you know, I kind of defeated a dragon,” I said with a grin.

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” The bearded man shook his head, and he stared at the fire axe in my hand. “If you ain’t the luckiest son of a bitch on Iriador.”

  “I had a bit of help,” I said with a shrug.

  Adath’s expression grew curious as he caught a glimpse of Arieste behind me.
“And who’s this now?” he asked.

  “Arieste,” I told him. “She was Frosdar’s prisoner. We’re going to bring her back to Whitespire with us.”

  “We can thank the Goddesses you survived, lass,” Adath told Arieste.

  She nodded but said nothing as she pulled my fur cloak tighter around her shoulders.

  I turned and knelt beside Sir Galfred, who lay bundled in furs off to one side of the cavern. His face was pale and pinched by pain, but his breathing was steady. A quick glance at his side told me he’d stopped bleeding.

  “Here you are, Sir Galfred,” I said as I pressed the fire axe into his hands. “Your weapon, mighty knight of Whitespire.”

  “Ethan,” he said in a weak voice, “did we succeed? Is Frosdar slain?”

  “The dragon is gone,” I told him and smiled. “One down, one to go.”

  “Praise the Goddesses,” he breathed and closed his eyes as he lay back. “Did you recover any magical weapons?”

  “I didn’t have a chance to grab them, but I can go back,” I said as I looked around the small cavern at the scene of battle. The three Snow Killers lay silent and still, surrounded by the corpses of six Gray Hunters. Adath was the only one on his feet, but he moved with a limp as he tended to the six wounded men still living.

  The other Gray Hunters had sustained wounds, and two of the men were in serious condition. One had a head laceration and no doubt a concussion. The other had a puncture wound in his side. Thankfully, the talon had missed the lung, but I checked to be certain the gash hadn’t cut any of his major organs. The other four had broken bones, slashes, and bite marks, but their armor protected them from any major injuries.

  I knew we had to get the wounded out of here, back to the horses, and down the mountain quickly. They’d need medical attention, but I didn’t have the supplies or the time. We needed to get back to Whitespire, but we’d cover ground much slower than we had on the journey here. And as we crossed Riamod’s land, there was the risk that the dragon would sense the magic coursing through me and attack us.

  But that was a problem for later. Right now, we needed to get what we came for.

  I strode back into Frosdar’s lair and examined the treasure piled against one wall of the cave. The dragon’s hoard was easily thirty feet wide and ten feet high with more precious stones and gold coins than I would imagine.

  “Take some,” Nyvea purred in my mind. “A reward for dealing with Frosdar.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” I stuffed a few handfuls into my pack, but my focus was on finding the really important treasure: magical weapons.

  My heart leapt as I uncovered the pommel of a sword. I quickly dug it free and pulled it from its sheath. Sadly, there was no gemstone embedded in the hilt, so I tossed it aside and kept searching.

  “What are you looking for?”

  I glanced over my shoulder and saw Arieste standing at the mouth of the tunnel. Her expression revealed nothing, but her light blue eyes glittered like the icy walls of the cavern.

  “Magical weapons,” I told her. I had no reason to hide the truth from her because she had sworn to serve me. “Where can I find them?”

  Her face hardened, and for a moment I thought she would refuse.

  “Just order her to do it,” Nyvea insisted. “You’re her master, after all.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to work,” I told Nyvea silently.

  I could understand the battle within her. As Frosdar, she’d spent centuries building her hoard, and I had no doubt her dragon instincts were screaming as she watched me steal from it.

  “We’re going to need them to kill Riamod. With your help, we have a real chance of getting rid of him once and for all.”

  That worked. Hatred flashed in her icy blue eyes as I mentioned the red dragon. It seemed that Frosdar and Riamod had been bitter enemies. Even before she spoke, I knew she’d gladly help me get what I need to destroy her rival.

  On her directions, I dug through the pile and managed to find three spears, two swords, and one shield. I could feel magic emanating from the white gemstones set into the swords and spears as well as the large ruby embedded in the rear of the shield.

  I let out a triumphant laugh as I triggered the red gemstone and fire blazed to life along the wooden rim of the shield. “The magic of the shield is enough to stop a dragon’s fire blast,” Arieste explain. “But only one or two before the magic wears off, and the shield is nothing more than wood.”

  When I pressed the gemstone in the spears and swords, a coat of frost appeared along the edge of the blades. The ice was thin enough that it didn’t throw off the weapons’ balance, but there was no mistaking the magical pulses.

  “A strong arm like yours should be able to cut through Riamod’s scales with one of those,” Arieste told me.

  She actually helped me gather the weapons into a bundle and carry them back into the chamber where the Gray Hunters were preparing to leave. Adath and the others exchanged triumphant grins at the sight of our haul before they slapped my back and congratulated me. When I told them how Arieste had helped, they made sure she received her share of gratitude. The woman actually smiled a little at the Gray Hunters’ praise, but I guessed that she was just putting on an act so that they would not suspect who she really was.

  I helped a wounded Gray Hunter limp out of the cavern and back toward the horses. Even though we had lost a few men, our mission had succeeded. We’d taken down Frosdar and lived to tell the tale. Better still, we had the means to destroy Riamod once and for all.

  Best of all, it seemed like the beautiful dragon-woman was now committed to helping me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The journey back to Whitespire took a toll on us. One of the wounded Gray Hunters died within hours of leaving the mountain, and the other was still weak and barely able to sit in his saddle. The rest of the Gray Hunters weren’t much better off. Hard riding, hours of standing watch at night, and the tension of crossing Riamod’s empty charred plains and the ice land left them weary. Sir Galfred rode hunched over his wounded side, his face pale and tight with pain. Even Adath, ever-cheery, showed signs of fatigue in the slouch of his shoulders and the droop of his eyelids.

  If not for the ice magic coursing within me, I would have probably collapsed. The power fueled my muscles with energy and kept my mind sharp, but even magic couldn’t replace sleep, as Arieste had made abundantly clear more than once during her lessons when she pointed out how weak humans were.

  As we rode, I found myself more and more intrigued by the woman who had once been the white dragon. She hadn’t done anything to hint at a desire to flee, attack, or betray me, but she’d maintained a demeanor just on the warm side of icy. She was polite and friendly to me, Sir Galfred, and the Gray Hunters, but I knew it only went skin deep. Unless I made an effort to talk to her, she remained as cold and aloof as the dragon she had once been.

  Yet there were times when the new human side of her poked through the hard facade, particularly when she thought no one was watching. I caught a glimpse past her cold mask the first night out of the ice lands. I saw her sitting wrapped in furs with her arms around her legs and a haunted look in her pale blue eyes. She rocked back and forth as she stared back at the sharp white-tipped mountain peak that had been her home for half a millennium. I thought there was a tear on her cheek, so I left her in peace and went back to the fireplace. When she joined us half an hour later, her face was as cold as the surrounding land.

  As we traveled, I managed to see a little more humanity from the woman who had once been a dragon. We spent a great deal of time together as she trained me to use the ice powers, and I started to get the hang of the magic. She taught me how to form a shield large enough to protect two or three people, and I managed it after a few unsuccessful tries that left her grinning at my failure. We had to call it quits after a few hours each day because the efforts and lack of sleep had left us both drained.

  When Arieste finally relaxed around me,
Sir Galfred and the Gray Hunters enough to speak, I found she was funny, clever, and quick with a devastating remark that could put even the sharp-tongued Gray Hunter Renthar to shame. The few moments I made her laugh, there was a genuine sparkle of delight in her eyes. I couldn’t help but feel intrigued by her, and something about the way she stayed by my side told me she felt the same.

  Finally, we reached the outskirts of the kingdom, and everyone but Arieste seemed to relax in their saddles.

  Farmers and laborers glanced up as we rode past, and many stopped their work to stare and whisper to each other. A few called out to us and asked about the success of our mission, and Sir Galfred’s words of triumph brought smiles to the faces of everyone we passed. I caught a glimpse of one young man saddling a horse and galloping in the direction of Whitespire ahead of us.

  We wanted to return as quickly as possible, but we couldn’t push the pace too hard because of our wounded. When we reached the city an hour later and found the streets lined with cheering people, my fatigue melted away. We had done the impossible and eliminated a dragon, and the men and women of Whitespire were celebrating the accomplishment with us. I felt a smile on my face, and I raised my hand to wave to the crowd.

  “Hail Sir Galfred the Bold!” one man cried, and a hundred throats echoed the chant. “Hail, Sir Galfred!”

  “They’re cheering the wrong hero,” Nyvea told me, and I heard anger in her voice.

  “Come on, Nyvea,” I replied in my mind. “It doesn’t matter whose name they shout. I didn’t set out to do this to make the people love me, you know. I promised Barodan I’d do it, so I did.”

  “And that, handsome, is exactly why I say you’re the real hero,” Nyvea purred. “Humility is a truly heroic virtue, I hear.”

  “Thanks, Nyvea,” I said. Her words made me feel better. In all honesty, I did kind of wish they would cheer for me. When I’d chosen to be a firefighter, I’d gone into the job knowing I’d never receive public acclaim for my actions. Still, every firefighter liked to receive commendations or medals of merit in recognition. It would have been nice to hear the people chanting my name.