Chasing the Dragon

by Jason Halstead

  The mountain man looked at him and nodded a greeting. "Remember you, too, but can't place your face with a name."

  "Sir Celos," Aleena said.

  "Yeah, that's it," the man grunted.

  "And you are?" Celos prompted.

  "Sorry, can't be too careful these days. Name's Ketten."

  Aleena and Celos turned their heads to look at one another. "We were looking for you," Aleena said after she turned back to face him.

  "Well, you found me," he said. "Pity, though. I've got a job these days. Don't have time to take any others."

  "What are you doing in the mountains?" Celos asked him.

  "You first," Ketten said.

  "No." Aleena shook her head. "Why are you here?"

  "I live here now," Ketten said. "And you've got no right to be here."

  "No right?" Celos repeated. "We have every right!"

  Ketten shook his head. "'Fraid not."

  Aleena saw that her mentor was close to losing his temper. He wasn't a morning person and Ketten's surly attitude wasn't helping. "Last anyone in Highpeak saw of you, you'd taken a woman into the mountains. Have you built a home up here? Was that your wife?"

  Ketten laughed. "You could say I've found a home, but she was no wife."

  "Who was she? Is she all right?" Aleena asked while Celos stewed silently beside her.

  "Since you two got no right being up here and since you're so interested in meeting her, how about I take you to her?"

  "What?" Celos asked. "She's still here?"

  "She is," Ketten said. "And without me, you stand no chance of ever reaching her."

  Aleena frowned. "That's a bold claim. Is she in peril?"

  "No, I mean her guards wouldn't let you near her."

  Aleena and Celos traded another glance. "Her guards?" Aleena asked. "Who is this woman?"

  "She's the Queen of the North," Ketten said. "Queen Rosalyn."

  "Queen?" Celos repeated. "There's no nation this far north, just scattered tribes of barbarians north of the mountains."

  "You forget the Northern Divide," Ketten said. "It's a realm unto itself. Always has been, but before that dragon, nobody gave it any respect. No, Rosalyn has pulled the creatures of this land together and organized them."

  "Organized the creatures? What organization can there be among goblins?"

  Ketten chuckled. "Lot more than goblins in these hills. I'll be the first one to tell you ogres get a bad rap. They're not as dumb as we think they are. Some are close to it, I admit, but others could give most men a run for their money."

  "She consorts with ogres and goblins?"

  Aleena glanced at Celos, trying to warn him to be quiet with her eyes. He ignored her.

  "If by consort you mean rules over, then yes. If you're meaning anything else, I'll be sure to not tell Her Highness that you said such a thing. She's a witch, you know, and a powerful one from what I seen."

  "Is she evil?" Aleena demanded.

  "Evil?" Ketten mused. He tilted his head and considered the question. "To the common man, isn't every ruler some sort of evil?"

  Aleena's eyes narrowed but Celos answered before she could. "Only the self-obsessed and loathsome common man," he snapped. "A good and just ruler must at times do things his people do not like, but it is done with their best interests at heart."

  "Well, there you go," Ketten said. "The people of the mountains have been brought together. Some of them didn't much like it at first; they preferred being independent and fighting with their neighbors. There's less of that now, which some like and some don't."

  "What about all the men who have been hurt, killed, or just driven from the mountains?" Aleena asked. "And what about the kingdom mines that were overrun?"

  "Kingdom mines?" Ketten said. "The kingdom's border ends at Highpeak. The mines fall in Queen Rosalyn's realm."

  "This is an act of war," Celos seethed.

  Aleena held up her hand. "Please, Ketten, can you take us to her so that we might talk directly?"

  Ketten nodded. "Of course. I'd hate for you to end up being hurt or killed over a misunderstanding."

  "Is that a threat?" Celos snarled.

  "Sir Celos, I believe Ketten was only showing his concern for our well-being," Aleena said. She turned to her fellow knight and offered a quick smile before adding, "I'll gather up our things."

  Celos's eyes narrowed but he gave her a terse nod. She moved past him and began to pack up their camp. While she worked at slipping her pack back on, she heard Ketten whistle appreciatively and say, "Is that a unicorn? Like the one that lady from the kelgryn had?"

  Aleena felt a warmth in her stomach that was kicked a moment later at the reminder that Alto had given Patrina a unicorn. Before she could begin to address her feelings or Ketten himself, he continued.

  "I seen one of them winged horses once, years ago. Was in the western mountains. Couldn't believe my eyes at first. I didn't think they existed really, but I guess I was wrong," he said.

  "A winged horse?" Celos asked. "They've been gone for generations."

  Ketten shook his head. "Seen it with my own eyes. Had a rider on it, too, and they was flying around over the forest west of here."

  "A pegasus with a rider?" Celos sounded doubtful.

  "On my mother's grave," Ketten said.

  Aleena walked up, leading Celos's stallion. Moonshine came of his own free will. He stopped and snorted as he neared Ketten.

  "A man on a pegasus." Celos shook his head. "Those were once mounts used by favored paladins of Leander."

  Aleena nodded. She knew the history; she'd read it the same as he had. It was also a history that was over five hundred years old, even before the time of Sir Gareth. "We are ready," Aleena said.

  Celos turned and inspected his horse. His eyes went to his own pack secured to his steed, complete with the mace jutting from it. He nodded. "Thank you," he offered.

  Aleena smiled and turned back to Ketten. "Will we have any trouble with the trail?"

  The guide shook his head. "Keep an eye to the ground and you should be fine," he said. "It's narrow at parts but not so bad Her Highness and I couldn't make it through on our horses."

  "Lead the way," Celos bade him. "I'm anxious to speak with this queen of yours."

  "As, I'm sure, she will be to speak with you."

  Chapter 9

  The trek through the city carrying Patrina didn't end until the sun began to crest the ocean in the east. Alto carried her the entire way, though his arms and back screamed at him long before they reached the kelgryn ship, the Kraken.

  Taldar, the ship's captain, rushed through the sleeping bodies of the crew on the deck of the longship. "What's happened?" he asked, his face white with fear.

  "Patrina's been poisoned," Alto said. He shook his head, spraying the sheen of sweat that dripped across his face. "We need to find a cure for it but she needs to be left someplace safe. This is the only place I trust."

  "Every man on this boat will give his life before she's allowed to be touched," Taldar swore. "We failed you once, Thane; it won't happen again."

  Alto nodded and took Patrina into the small cabin that had been built on the deck for her. He placed her on her bed and sat down next to her, and then ran his fingers across her cheeks and lips. Karthor's magic had healed the cut on her arm but the poison that raged in her system even Leander's blessing couldn't mend.

  Alto leaned over and brushed his lips against hers, remembering the kisses they'd shared before the Stalkers attacked. "I'll find help," Alto whispered into her ear. "You saved me; now it's my turn again."

  He rose up, grimacing at the heat in the room and how cramped his muscles still felt. He stretched his neck and walked out, pausing only to stare at the room and then Captain Taldar. "You might want to leave the door open," Alto suggested. "Or at least a window. It's stifling in there."

  Taldar frowned and looked at Alto, and then into the dark cabin. "It's been a cool night. The heat's only just beginning to come with the sun
."

  "You look flushed. Are you feeling all right?" Carson asked the warrior.

  "Just warm," Alto said. "Thirsty, too. Where's my water?"

  "Here," Taldar said as he stepped aside. "Here's a barrel."

  Alto stepped over, his legs stiff from the cramping in them. He took the cup floating in it and drank deeply, and then returned it and drank twice more. "That's better," Alto said. "But I still feel parched."

  "Karthor!" Kar snapped as he stepped up to Alto. "Come have a look at our fearless leader."

  "What's wrong?" Karthor asked as he moved between bodies on the ship so he could approach Alto. The priest frowned and reached up to touch Alto's sweaty forehead. He shook his head. "You've a fever."

  "Oh," the warrior said. "That explains it."

  "Explains what?" the priest asked.

  "Thirsty and my arms and legs are cramped up."

  "Alto," Kar spoke sternly and forced the young man to look at him with his gaze alone, "did those Stalkers cut you at all?"

  Alto shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I'd have felt it."

  "I was there," Carson said. "He killed the one and the other tried to get at him but I ran him through before he could do anything."

  Alto frowned and swayed on his feet. He shook his head, sending more droplets of sweat flying. "Wait, my pants!" He tried to twist around and look at his pants but a sharp pain from a cramping muscle in his back stopped him.

  "They look fine to me," Carson said from behind the warrior. "What about them?"

  "I felt a tug, then you killed the man."

  "His dagger was nowhere near you," Carson said. "He reached down to grab at you, but his dagger was above him. I killed him before he could use it."

  "Alto, step into Trina's room," Karthor suggested.

  "Why?"

  "Please. I want to check something."

  Alto turned and stepped into Patrina's cabin. The priest followed him, and then began to chant so that his holy symbol glowed and lit up the room more than what the dawn light coming in through the door allowed.

  "Turn around. I want to check you."

  "Check me?" Alto asked, confused.

  "For injuries," Karthor explained.

  "I'm not injured! I told you that."

  "Humor me," Karthor said. "Patrina needs you. This isn't the time to take any unnecessary risks."

  Alto sighed. "All right, what are we doing?"

  "I need you to lower your pants."

  From outside the cabin, Kar's voice could be heard. "Saints above and below! So this is what he learned at the church?"

  Karthor and Alto ignored the wizard while he untied his breeches and lowered them. Karthor bent over and then knelt down behind him. "Break wind and I'll never heal you again," the priest whispered.

  Alto grunted, unable to laugh.

  "You've been stabbed," Karthor said a moment later. "Hold still."

  The priest chanted some more and Alto felt a warmth surge in him, causing fresh sweat to break out on his skin. Karthor rose a moment later and cursed under his breath.

  "What is it?" Alto asked. He pulled his pants up and tied them, and then turned to see Karthor shaking his head and scowling.

  The priest stepped out and motioned for him to follow. "You might as well all hear it," Karthor said. "Alto's been stabbed. Something tiny. It was just a pinprick of blood, like that from a seamstress's needle. There was more, a hint of green around the hole. You've been poisoned."

  Alto stared at Karthor and then looked at the gaping faces of his companions. He shook his head. "I'm not tired," he said. "Hot, but not tired."

  "Different poison," Karthor said. "There was no green substance near hers."

  "I didn't find any poisons on them," Carson said.

  Mordrim grunted and dug into one of his pockets. He pulled out the Stalker's ring and stared at it, and then he began to toy with it until he twisted it and a needle sprung out of the end of it. The dwarf peered at it and then sniffed before he held it up for them all to see. "Their rings," he said. "Still some of the poison on this one."

  "Let me take it," Kar said. "Having some of it will help the wizards I speak to identify it."

  "That's not what's killing Patrina," Alto said.

  "No, it's what is killing you," Karthor said. "I healed your injury but the poison resisted the light. It's deep inside you, hiding in dark places and working to make you sick."

  Alto let his head drop. He stared down at himself and then raised his hand up to curl it into a fist. He relaxed it, grimacing at the spasms the muscles in his arm continued to suffer for several seconds. "I'm not dead yet," he said.

  "No, but it will get worse," Karthor promised.

  "Can you help me fight it?"

  The priest shrugged. "I will try, but much of it will be up to you and your will to fight it."

  "No worries there," Alto said. He turned and looked at the rest of them. "Kar, take Garrick and Mordrim and visit your wizards."

  Kar looked at the two men and then back to Alto. "Garrick and Mordrim? Has the poison gone to your head already?"

  "You can fight magic; they can fight everything else," Alto said. "Karthor, do you need to be near Patrina to help her?"

  "Once a day for now, until she weakens," the priest said.

  "All right, then you and Carson come with me."

  "Where do you think you're going?" Kar demanded.

  "I'm going to the palace," Alto said.

  "The palace?" Carson asked. "Why?"

  "That's where Sulim lives when he's here."

  "But he's not here—we already learned that," Kar snapped at him.

  "No, we were told they went on a retreat. For all we know he could be here. If nothing else, Jakar is there and I will make him tell me."

  "How?" the wizard challenged.

  Alto shrugged, the movement painful in itself. "I'll beat it out of him if I have to."

  Kar shook his head and sighed. He gestured for Mordrim and Garrick. "Come along, boys. If I'm to be chaperoned, let's hurry along. Try to keep up with me."

  Garrick snorted. "Talk to the dwarf. My legs are longer than yours."

  "And mind who you're calling a boy." Mordrim reminded the wizard that dwarves live longer than humans.

  "So you're old and short," Garrick mused as they stepped onto the dock and headed towards shore. The dwarf's response was lost as they moved away.

  "Come, the sooner we do this the better," Alto said after he drank another cup filled with warm water.

  "We can wait for them to come back," Carson suggested.

  Alto shook his head. "Patrina can't wait," he said.

  Carson nodded. "For Patrina, then."

  Alto frowned. "Why don't I ever get anyone willing to devote themselves to me like they do her?"

  "You don't fill out a suit of armor quite as well," Karthor offered.

  Alto blinked and then looked at the slight smile on the priest's face. He shook his head and smiled. "I won't argue that. Come, my friends, let's go while I still can."

  The trip through the city was painful for Alto. The heat nearly overwhelmed him at times. When the heat wasn't so bad, he could think straight. He still had to contend with muscles that would cramp up if he stayed in one position for very long. Waiting on merchant caravans and royal wagons would have earned a curse from him if he'd had the strength to utter them.

  It was nearing midday when he staggered up the steps to the palace and strode past the guards who stood beside the main entrance. He turned and walked with as much confidence as he could muster to the wing where Sulim stayed.

  Two large men with bare chests and flowing white pants met them at the entrance to Lord Badawi's rooms. The guards had curved swords at their side, scimitars like Namitus's. It was a common weapon in Shazamir.

  "Jakar is busy," one of the guards told him.

  Alto shook his head. "I don't care. I told him I'd be back to check. I'm here. He said he'd be ready. Find him. Now."

  The two
guards looked at each other before the one who had spoken relented. "Lord Alto? Just you. Your friends must wait here."

  Karthor spoke up first. "I don't think that's a good idea."

  "It's fine," Alto snapped at him, afraid he'd lose his chance to question Jakar.

  Carson smiled at one of the guards and then gaped as a beautiful southern woman passed through two archways in the hall, wearing a long flowing loincloth and little else save an ornate necklace across her chest and shoulders. She carried a tray with a pitcher and some fruit on it. "I'll uh, I'll wait for you here. Give us a call if you need us."

  Karthor turned and glared at the woodsman.

  "I'll be fine," Alto assured them. He turned to the guard. "Take me to Jakar."

  The guard turned away and walked down the hall and through one of the archways. Alto passed through a couple of rooms and then an open air garden filled with lush plants that reminded him of the jungle on the island of Britanley, complete with trees laden with bananas, pineapples, and oranges. A few rooms later and Alto was taken into a room with couches filled with pillows. A table in the midst of the couches had a gold platter with a jug and two cups, as well as several ripe fruits sitting around it.

  "Jakar will meet you here," the guard said.

  Alto watched him go through narrowed eyes. For showing up without warning, Jakar seemed to have a plan for how to meet him. He wondered if their long walk through the palace had allowed someone to warn him, or if he'd been suspecting a visit since the attack the night before?

  Alto glanced down at the jug and the fruits. He swallowed, trying to ease the dry ache in his throat. The liquid looked like water or wine; he couldn't tell without getting closer to it. He steeled himself and turned away, not trusting the questionable hospitality.

  Jakar entered the room a few minutes later. Two men, both larger than the ones at the front entrance to the wing, waited outside the open doorway. "Lord Alto, you honor me with your presence."

  "Then you may honor me with giving me word of my sister," Alto tried after clearing his throat.

  "But my lord, I've only sent a messenger this morning. It will take days to get word there and back, perhaps longer," Jakar said. He moved past Alto to the table and sat down. "Come, sit. You sound parched. Drink with me."