by R. D. Henham
“Just get me up there!” Sandon jerked on the rope in eager rhythm. “We’ll see if the dragon can ignore me when I’m standing in its face!” The soldier, courage returned, scraped over the ledge. He gestured for Sandon to follow him up the gently swaying rope. When the boy was close enough, Kine gripped Sandon’s hand and hauled him over the edge and onto the hard stone lip of the cave. Sandon jerked off his climbing gloves and turned to look at their destination.
The stone cave beyond was rugged only in initial appearance. Through the wide opening, Sandon could see that the cavern was beautifully carved, with tall stone pillars holding up an elegantly shaped roof. The area inside was nearly as big as his father’s dining hall, and definitely bigger than any other room of the keep. There were wide, semicircular couches curled up against the pillars, wide tapestries of purple and blue decorating the walls, and a curved fire pit in the center that was big enough to roast a whole deer all at once. The cave faded back into the darkness, where something glittered like a cold, unwavering torch—but none of that held Sandon’s attention. His breath caught in his throat and his hand clenched in Kine’s thick glove when he first caught sight of the dragon.
It was massive—so big that no saddle Sandon had seen could ever harness it, nor could he think of a rope at the keep that would stretch from its nose to its tail. Sandon could sit inside its barrel chest easily, and the wings folded to either side of its body had enough golden sail to carry a galleon over the seas. Two large golden horns curled backward, arching down behind its cheekbones, past two smaller, straighter horns that spired back over the curve of its neck, small frills of sail bridging them like a dancer’s rippling scarves. Huge forelimbs ended in graceful claws, and the rear quarters arched back into a tail scaled with impossibly smooth, perfect golden disks.
The dragon lay perfectly still, eyes closed and body not moving, the sun highlighting every curve and facet of its glorious frame. Sandon saw no motion in its form, not even the light breathing of a creature asleep. In fact, it didn’t even move when Kine stood up and took a step toward it, the metal spikes strapped to his boots clacking loudly against the stone.
Sandon felt the breath empty out of his lungs in a pitiful, strangled moan. Had he been wrong after all?
Could it be possible that the gold dragon … was dead?
andon gingerly walked forward, feeling the dusty crunch of gravel under his boots. Behind him, Kine quickly stripped off his gloves and climbing spurs, then pulled up the rope and dumped everything in his backpack. A cold wind blew across Sandon’s skin, chilling him and giving him goose bumps. With every step closer, the dragon got bigger, and Sandon’s heart sunk lower. The dragon wasn’t moving. It wasn’t even drawing breath. It was completely, utterly still.
“Sandon …” Kine said, an air of warning in his gruff voice.
“There’s nothing to worry about. Look at it. It’s dead.” Sandon sank to his knees beside the gold dragon’s muzzle (it was nearly as long as Sandon’s torso) and stared at the perfectly still, closed eyes. He’d hoped for so much more than this unmoving lump of golden scales that it felt as if the whole world had betrayed him.
“Sandon …” Kine’s voice rose, a more impatient note.
“Kine, look. I’m not kidding. You don’t have to worry about it eating me.” Sandon reached out his hand to touch the dragon, placing his fingers hesitantly against its jaw. The golden-scaled skin was soft to the touch, colder than the wind that brushed him, and felt smooth like a serpent’s scales. Plucking up his courage when the creature still didn’t move, Sandon pushed against it. The head moved slightly, lolling away from him and then rocked back into its divot between the outstretched front paws. Sandon frowned. It shouldn’t have moved. It was far too big and too heavy to shift just because a kid pushed it.
He tried again, this time placing both of his hands against the ridge of the dragon’s cheek and pushing harder. The head tilted awkwardly and tipped to the side with a distinctly metallic clunk. The silky flanges along its neck shivered like the wings of a kite. Sandon reached out and touched them. They weren’t just silky. They were made of silk.
He blinked, jaw dropping. Scrabbling forward to hunch over the head, Sandon pulled one of the eyelids open. Within was a beautiful golden orb … made out of a solid piece of amber the size of his clenched fist. He bent down and stared closely at it, noting the cracks and small flecks of dirt caught in the stone. “That’s not an eye, that’s a rock!”
“I’m glad you found a rock that doesn’t move,” Kine yelled with amused annoyance. “But I just found one that does!”
Behind Sandon, Kine’s sword rang free of its sheath, and the boy turned swiftly to take in the scene. Two of the boulders at either side of the cave opening were moving. Short, stubby legs erupted from their bases, lifting them in unwieldy motion. The sides of the rocks had split away from the main body of stone. The creatures had no eyes or heads, per se, nor did they seem to have bones or organs. They were just … stone!
“They’re some kind of guard, I think. Sandon, get down!” A clang of steel against stone punctuated Kine’s warning, and the soldier shouted a primitive battle cry. Sandon jerked his head around to watch the fight.
Kine’s sword clanged again from the side of the one nearest him, making a tiny chip in the solid stone. “Sandon, try to get past me. The grappling hook’s still on the ledge, and the rope’s attached to my backpack. If you throw it over, you can climb down.” Kine’s words were clipped and brisk as he wove about just outside of the reach of the slow-moving rock creature.
“I can’t leave you, and even if I wanted to, I don’t even think I can get to it—that monster’s between you and me.”
“I’d be a pretty bad guest if I let you get turned into applesauce,” the soldier growled. “Do as I say!”
Sandon ignored the order—it was too late anyway. The creature shuffling toward Kine had already gotten between them, and any attempt to get to the ledge would mean running right into the creature’s stony fists. Beneath the cracks in the odd-looking arms, Sandon could see shining copper cogs and twisted wires. The stone part, however, ended in fists like sledgehammers that rained blows down on the stone floor of the cavern. He jumped back with a yelp as one of those fists nearly smashed him flat.
Kine dodged to the side again as the boulder’s fist punched forward like a piston, slamming with massive force into the floor. When it lifted again, the rocky earth where it had struck was spiderwebbed with deep cracks, and chips of stone skittered away from the motion.
“What is that thing?”
“I think it’s here to guard the dragon’s body.” Sandon ducked again as a fist passed over his head.
Kine ducked under a second punch and swung, his sword again clanging against the boulder that made up his opponent’s massive form. Kine was faster than the guardian creature and far more nimble, but he couldn’t get past it into the room, and with Kine’s back toward the ledge and open air, that meant the soldier was running out of space as the creature advanced.
By this time, the second of the two boulder guardians had reached the dragon’s head and was looming over Sandon. The boy yelped and jumped to the side, scrambling to his feet to avoid the guardian’s uneven tread. Unlike Kine, Sandon had been on the side of the dragon closest to the large cavern, and he had plenty of room to move about. Between that and the stone guardian’s awkward slowness, Sandon felt confident he could outmaneuver it for hours, dashing here and there around the big internal room.
He backed farther toward the big pillars that held the cavern ceiling aloft. It’s not like I can go anywhere, Sandon thought, so eventually—hours, maybe days—it’ll catch me. At least Kine can get away. That is, if he could get the grappling hook placed on the ledge again, or if he could fly …
Brave like a knight was one thing, but brave like a crazy person was another. Sandon wasn’t planning on going anywhere—least of all over the ledge to his distant doom on the rocks below. He gulped.
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br /> The stone guardian’s fists pounded the ground to either side of Kine, forcing the soldier back again. The man was like a bulldog, refusing to give up even against a much larger and stronger opponent. Sandon tried to take heart. If Kine could stand up to these things, so could he. He watched the soldier slip to the side, avoiding the stone creature’s blows, but Kine couldn’t get past the monster to the main room. Cursing, Kine continued to strike back when he could, trying to find joints, cracks, any weakness at all in the guardian’s rock armor. Kine ducked and dodged, jamming the end of his sword where the guardian’s arm had split from the body of the rock, and Sandon winced as he heard the bitter ring of metal on metal.
“They’re hollow inside?” Sandon called.
“More like a stone scarecrow,” Kine yelled back. “Can you see under that arm when it moves? The stone’s overlaying a metal frame. If I can just hit something inside that’s breakable …”
But that was easier said than done. The stone arms showed the opening beneath only when they were swinging, and when they were swinging, well, that was exactly when you wanted to stay away from them! Every time the guardian swung at him, Kine tried to jump to the side and take advantage of the opening, but since the fist was pointed at him, if he wasn’t careful, he’d end up jumping right into the blow. Clang, swish, went Kine’s blade. Bang, slam. The guardian’s massive fists churned the air as it slowly, relentlessly drove him back. Sandon ran from pillar to pillar, easily avoiding his pursuer. As long as he kept an eye on it, he had plenty of time.
Kine staggered back when his opponent’s fists caught his shoulder. The blow was so hard that it spun the soldier around, knocking him to the ground near the edge of the cave, his arm pinwheeling out over the cliff. Sandon screamed, and Kine rolled to the side, scrambling to get to his feet before the guardian could smash him flat. He was faster than the creature, just quick enough to get out of the way when one of its punches splintered a sliver of earth along the edge that promptly slid into the ravine below.
Although Sandon was screaming at him, Kine froze there, half standing, half crouched just a foot and a half from the stone guardian’s body, its arm swinging back from that massive punch. The soldier’s eyes widened, and his grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles turned white. Sandon had no chance to ask what the solider had seen.
“Kine, move!”
But the soldier had frozen stock-still, crouched on the thin ledge between the guardian and the cliff side. Sandon screamed at him again, but then had to worry about himself as the second guardian’s fist slammed into a pillar too close to ignore. Sandon dived forward, pumping his legs to cross the room again, back to the other side.
By that time, the guardian on the ledge had swung at Kine once more. The whistle of wind was audible as the guardian leaned into an almost assured punch, prepared to knock the soldier flying from the ledge. At the last moment, in a move almost too fast for Sandon’s eye to follow, the soldier rolled away from the punch, twisting beneath his opponent’s legs and landing on his back behind the stone guardian.
The guardian’s fist continued to swing, momentum pulling it forward toward the ledge and away from Kine. Before the guardian could recover, Kine placed both of his feet on its massive stone back, just beneath the shaped stone where the monster’s body had risen to uncover two stubby legs. The soldier arched his back, driving his shoulders into the ground. He let out a mighty yell and shoved his legs forward with the strength of his entire body. Off balance from the punch, the stone guardian tipped forward. It happened in slow-motion, tilting, tilting, tilting—and finally, falling over the ledge of the cliff into the valley. The last Sandon saw of the guardian was its little stone feet kicking desperately as the creature’s bulk and heavy weight dragged it into oblivion.
Too late, Sandon realized he’d stopped to cheer instead of keeping his eyes on his own enemy. A punch much like the one that had floored the soldier came out of nowhere, catching Sandon in the hip. It was like running headlong into a table, and the crack of bone meeting rock sent tremors through his body. He cried out in pain and was launched backward by the force of the impact. Sandon fell to the floor, skidding on his rear and side until he slammed into the bottom of one of the thick stone pillars. Pain lanced through his leg, red hot and twisting as he moved.
“Sandon!” Kine was racing toward him, sword in hand. The guardian swung again, and there was no way Sandon was going to be able to stand, or even roll, and get out of the way. Sandon watched in horror as the fist fell, aiming directly for his head.
Kine came out of nowhere, hurling his body through the air to collide with the guardian’s fist before it could connect. He grunted as the stone smashed into him. and his movement pushed the fist aside before it could connect with Sandon or the pillar. The guardian jerked its fist back and Kine slumped to the floor near Sandon, gasping for breath. His sword clattered next to the boy, the blue hilt with the kingfisher, crown, and rose ringing hollowly against the floor.
Turning to the more active of its opponents, the stone guardian pulled back its arm for another strike at Kine. When it did, Sandon saw what the soldier had been talking about—there was a slice on the torso where the stone had broken away to form the creature’s arm. Unlike the dark rock of the creature’s body, Sandon could see light, metal structures, and turning cogs and pistons. There, in the center, past the frame and the jointing, the boy spied something glowing faintly at the heart of the machine.
He didn’t have time to think. Snatching up the soldier’s long sword, Sandon gripped the hilt in both hands. When the arm swung forward for the punch, Sandon remembered his weapons training and struck. He thrust the sword forward with all of his might, slamming into the frame, cogs and all. The blade sank easily into the copper, piercing through the metal, diving in toward the glittering magical core. When it struck home, Sandon felt an electric jolt transfer through the metal of the sword up into his arms. His hair stood on end, and heat flashed through him like a lightning strike. Sandon yelped, releasing the sword, the force of the surge jolting him back once more against the pillar.
Something inside the guardian shrieked, the awful sound of metal on metal. A cog flew out of the opening, followed by the twisted end of a spring. The light inside flickered brilliantly, casting rays out through the frame, and the guardian’s outstretched arm shivered in the midst of its punch. The massive stone creature lost its balance, wobbling from side to side with the impetus of its own movement, and finally, the arm toppled, crashing into the floor nearly a foot short of its goal. Kine groaned, staring up at the massive rock figure above him through bleary eyes. It shuddered. It tottered. Arms flopping about and its body crumpling over its legs, the guardian hit the ground and went still.
“Kine!” Sandon pulled himself to his feet and limped over to the soldier. “Are you all right?”
The soldier rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. “I feel like I just got hit by a mountain.”
“Well … you sort of did.” Sandon crouched down beside Kine and pulled the soldier up to a sitting position.
Kine winced, gasping and clutching at his ribs in pain. “Ow,” he grunted. “Go easy, Sandon. I’m not made of putty.”
Sandon helped more gently, pulling Kine over to the stone pillar where the soldier could sit and lean. Placing the soldier’s sword beside him, he gave the grizzly man a smile. “Thanks. That was a really brave thing you did.”
“Don’t mention it, kiddo.” Kine sighed, then clamped his teeth together and closed his eyes. “You were the one who said you wanted to be brave. Did a good job of it too, if you ask me.”
Glowing at the compliment, Sandon looked over his shoulder at the unmoving lump of stone that had been so dangerous just a few moments ago. “What was that thing?”
“Some sort of golem, I think.” Kine eased back against the pillar. “A magical construct. Based on the cogs and gears, I’d say it was built by gnomes.”
“Do you think that dragon’s the
same sort of thing? A gnomish machine?”
Kine winced, gripping his side. “Probably. Go take a look at it.”
Sandon choked. “What if it comes to life?”
Matter of factly, the soldier replied, “Then it eats us both.” The smile faded from his face. “I think that if the dragon were going to move, it already would have, what with us running all over the place like rabid squirrels.” He pushed Sandon away gently. “Keep talking to me. Let me know what you find. I need to take a rest here and get my wind back.” His face was pale, and the hand he kept clamped over his rib cage was white knuckled. With a nod, Sandon rose. He tested his aching leg and found that it would hold. The muscle was bruised, but his bones weren’t broken. He’d have a heck of a blue and purple mark in the morning, but Sandon judged himself to be fine. He wasn’t so sure about Kine.
He walked over to the great gold dragon, circling it warily. Now that he was looking for them, there were several small signs of artificial construction—the even, perfect pattern of the tiny golden scales, the silken texture of the flanges that ran from the creature’s horned forehead down the topmost arch of its neck. The claws had faint creases, like forged blades, and when Sandon squatted down and looked at the shoulder jointing of the massive wings, he could see little cogs and springs set in perfect unison to make the wings flex. “It’s definitely a gnomish construct,” he called out to Kine. “I can see seams where the legs meet the body, and underneath the scaled skin, there’s some sort of smooth frame. There’s a little window here, in its chest. I can see inside!” Sandon ducked down under the gold dragon’s arched neck and peered into the opening. “There’s a chair in there, and a bunch of levers and stuff! Kine, I think someone used to fly this thing!”
“Gnomes,” Kine sighed. “Ingenious little creatures. It probably has a command word or a magical key or something in order to make it work. They’re all about protecting secrets, those gnomes. Too bad they’re not as concerned about safety.”