Zaria Fierce and the Dragon Keeper's Golden Shoes

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Zaria Fierce and the Dragon Keeper's Golden Shoes Page 5

by Keira Gillett


  “Aleks is right,” he said, brushing off the dirt and standing. “This is as far as we go. The ground is starting to get damp. Any further and we’re too close.”

  “Now?” asked Madam Brown, clutching the flashlight to her bosom. It lit up her face in a ghoulish fashion.

  Hector nodded and she handed Filip the flashlight. The brownie shook her shoulders and stepped forward to the precipice. She trembled a little, and Zaria felt bad that her plan involved using Madam Brown in this way, but what other way was there? Madam Brown had to get close enough to draw Vingar to the surface, which he’d only do if he thought he might be able to catch a meal.

  It looked like the plan would work. The shadow in the water moved a little faster, spinning in tighter and tighter circles. Zaria peered over the ledge, just as the water-wyvern exploded from the water. It leapt into the air, its jaws open wide – revealing rows and rows of gleaming, sharp, shark teeth.

  Madam Brown shrieked and dived away from the edge, hitting the quarry wall with a thud. As the water-wyvern flipped in the air, diving back into the water, his tail flashed, walloping Filip in the arm and smashing part of the ledge. He stumbled, arms flailing as dirt and rock rained down.

  “Filip!” Geirr and Christoffer shouted, each grabbing him by an arm. They hauled him back to safety as his sword fell from him, clanging down the wall until it plopped in the water.

  “Thanks, mates,” he said, holding them tight as he regained his balance. “Ow, that thing can pack a punch.”

  Filip stood up, clutching his arm. Blood seeped between his fingers. Hector peeled his hand away and assessed the laceration.

  “You’ll need a bandage, but you’ll be all right,” said Hector. “I have some in my bag. Water-wyvern’s skin is rough, like a shark’s. When prey run into it, they wound themselves, and become an easier meal to grab.”

  “I think I prefer Norwick,” Geirr said, glancing over the edge.

  “Me too,” Filip agreed as Hector finished wrapping up his arm and secured the bandage. “Too bad about the sword. Do you happen to have any spares?”

  “Those were the spares,” Hector said. “Let’s hope you won’t need one.”

  The water was a dark, navy blue. The surface still frothed in agitation from the water-wyvern’s reentry. Otherwise, there was no sign of the creature.

  “Do you think you can try again?” asked Aleks, who had been comforting Madam Brown.

  The brownie looked at him and then Hector with scared eyes. She seemed so small. Her nose quivered as her eyes ran over with tears. She wrung her hands and shook her head over and over again.

  “I can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “I – um – I can try,” Zaria said hesitantly. “I have magic, right? And, I’ve seen Madam Brown shrink and expand. Maybe… maybe I can do it? I can try.”

  Hector gave Madam Brown a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. He looked up at Zaria. “Yes, if you want, I think you should, Princess. You’re able to do this.”

  Aleks and Geirr shared a look of concern, but Zaria ignored them. She’d have to try to create magic or she never would. Christoffer gave her a thumbs up.

  “Let’s do this,” Zaria said, squaring her shoulders.

  She shuffled to the edge and peered below. The stars shone faintly on the surface of the water. A soft wind created gentle little ripples. She couldn’t spy the water-wyvern anywhere. It had finally grown too dark to see anything.

  Zaria stayed where she was, leaning slightly over the drop. She held her breath, looking for any sign of movement. When it came, she jumped in fright, and nearly fell backwards like Madam Brown had. Up Vingar flew, his jaws open, teeth gleaming, eyes wild. From his throat came a horrendous roar of rage.

  Zaria thrust out her hand, trying to picture him smaller, and yelled, “SHRINK!”

  She felt a little zing in her fingertips just as hands pulled her away from the water-wyvern. Vingar flipped over and swung his tail. She felt the air displacement from the tail as it sailed through the spot where she had been. More earth and rock tumbled from the quarry walls into the water below.

  “Are you hurt?” asked Hector.

  “I’m fine. I want to try again,” she said, scrambling up out of their hands. “Can I borrow the flashlight?”

  Filip handed it to her. “Be careful.”

  Zaria lay down on her stomach and peered over the edge. She aimed the flashlight down into the water. The beam of light glowed faintly on the dark surface. The wind tickled her face, sending wisps of hair into her eyes.

  “Come on, come on,” she murmured, angling the light a little to the left. “I’m here; show yourself.”

  Several minutes went by, but the water-wyvern remained stubbornly below. Zaria clicked off the flashlight and handed it back to Filip. She sat on her haunches and looked out over the quarry contemplating what to do next. She had felt magic in her fingertips. The thought caused a flurry of excited butterflies to lodge in her stomach.

  Hector tapped her lightly on the shoulder and offered her a hand up. She took it, scrambling to her feet and dusting dirt off her jeans. She surveyed the group.

  “I felt something. I think it was my magic. I want to get closer.”

  “Absolutely not,” Hector replied. “It’s too dangerous.”

  Zaria concentrated on the tips of her braids and worried her lip. “We need to get past Vingar. Maybe it will draw him out again, if I go lower.”

  “Or it might get you killed. Vingar is not Norwick, Princess,” Hector said. “If anyone is getting closer, it will be me.”

  “You can’t,” Madam Brown said shrilly, having found her lost verve. “You tis too important, Stag Lord. You can’t risk getting hurt either.”

  “I can go,” Christoffer offered, his white teeth flashing in the dark at the reckless idea. “I bet Vingar would jump again to get a taste of me.”

  “Children, none of you are going to get closer to him while the water-wyvern is full-sized.”

  “I’ll go,” said Madam Brown, her voice barely a whisper. She cleared her throat. “I’ll go,” she repeated when Hector made to protest.

  “Be careful,” he said. “I don’t want you eaten either. Princess, get ready to try again.”

  Filip gave Madam Brown the flashlight and she put it in her pocket. Zaria settled into place as Madam Brown scurried down the quarry another fifteen meters. The brownie stuck close to the cliff wall the whole way, careful not to stick a toe out of place where the water-wyvern might be tempted to snatch it. When she reached a slightly wider section of the trail, Madam Brown moved away from the wall and clicked on the flashlight.

  In the space of a breath, the water grew agitated as Vingar thrashed in eager anticipation. He knew his quarry was in easy reach. Zaria held her breath, hands out in front of her ready to try her magic again. She visualized the water-wyvern shrinking – envisioned what he would look like as the size of a small dog.

  When Vingar leapt at Madam Brown, Zaria was ready. She watched him emerge from the water as if in slow-motion. She saw him arc and spiral through the air, his teeth gnashing in expectation. She concentrated on what she had to do, and when the moment was right, she shouted, feeling a rush of magic leave her fingers.

  The echoes of her “SHRINK!” bounced chaotically around the walls of the quarry. It sounded like an invisible army had given the order. The water-wyvern screeched and thrashed in the air, his tiny limbs scrabbling for purchase, his tail whipping back and forth. Madam Brown ducked.

  She needn’t have done so because Vingar shrunk in size, and his tail missed the cliff completely. In fact, Vingar rapidly changed from his normal size into a small car, and still further down to the size of a motorbike. The water-wyvern shrieked and bellowed in rage. His mighty voice became smaller and smaller until it resembled nothing so much as an enraged squeak toy.

  When the magic had accomplished its task, Vingar was no longer the tyrant he had been. He was now the size of a small dog, just as Za
ria had pictured. He flailed in the air and plummeted, hitting the water with a loud splash.

  “I did it!” cried Zaria, excited. She almost didn’t believe she’d done it.

  “Way to go, Zar-Zar!” Filip said, clapping her on the back.

  Geirr watched the spot where Vingar disappeared. “Did you see that thing shrink?” he asked everyone. “I’d never believe it.”

  “I’m telling you, you won a freaking lottery,” said Christoffer. “I’m so jealous!”

  “It would be a useful power to have,” agreed Aleks.

  “Let’s get to the bottom,” Hector said, shepherding the children ahead of him.

  They raced down the trail, catching up with Madam Brown along the way. The brownie jabbered excitedly, pleased with her bravery. Zaria was pleased with herself too, because she’d done it. She’d actually done it. She gave a little skip of excitement, wondering what else she could do.

  At the edge of the lake the group stumbled to a stop. Hector took out a strange wooden object from his bag and blew into it. A soft, haunting, lament whistled out and blew across the water, sending a series of waves from the center outward. The waves grew larger as Hector continued to blow on the instrument. Then in the midst of the waves – in the middle of the lake, – a boat emerged from the bottom and eerily floated to them.

  “A ghost ship,” Christoffer said, his eyes lighting up. “Awesome.”

  “Ghosts aren’t real,” Zaria reminded him, rolling her eyes. “And that’s not a ship. It’s a boat.”

  “Don’t begrudge me this,” he said, laughing. “A ship just appeared out of nowhere and piloted to us without a navigator. I’m sticking with ghost ship.”

  She stuck her tongue out at him and gave him a small push. “All right, call it whatever you want. I don’t care.”

  When the boat arrived, Hector put down the object. For the first time Zaria could see it clearly. It appeared to be something between a conch shell and a flute, which might explain the haunting quality of its sound. He put it back into his bag and secured his hooded white cloak.

  He stepped into the boat and turned around to the children. “Climb onboard,” he invited.

  “What is this thing?” Aleks asked, covering his nose. “It reeks like day-old tuna.”

  “It’s our ticket into Malmdor,” replied Hector. “This is the only way in from the outside without a magic mirror. They don’t like visitors any more than Jerndor does. Less even. Just be glad there is a boat.”

  Geirr looked at the rotting siding and peeling paint. “It doesn’t look very sturdy. Are you sure this thing can support us?”

  “Come on Geirr, where’s your sense of adventure?” Christoffer said laughing. He followed Aleks onto the boat.

  “What the heck,” Geirr grumbled and clambered after him.

  He scooted over to make room for Zaria and Filip, who climbed in last after Madam Brown. The boat lurched, forcing them back into their seats. Zaria clutched the side for balance and then peered over the edge below looking for Vingar.

  The night sky overhead was the color of midnight, light enough to know the sun was nearby, but dark enough to see only outlines and shadows of things. The boat floated quietly, gliding smoothly back to the center of the lake.

  As they got closer, a roaring rush of noise greeted them. A huge whirlpool spun down and away into a bottomless pit. The boat was sucked in and sent spinning. Geirr clutched at Zaria and closed his eyes.

  “Don’t barf, don’t barf, don’t barf,” he chanted under his breath.

  Zaria rubbed his back soothingly. Geirr was prone to seasickness. She could only hope he wouldn’t barf as well. She was too close for comfort, if he did. The boat picked up speed, and Christoffer let out a whoop, raising his arms in the air like he was on a rollercoaster. Filip joined him and the two yelled in delight.

  Chapter Five: The Real Hart

  The boat came to an abrupt halt and Geirr threw himself over the side without even looking, landing in knee-high water. He stumbled around woozily trying to regain his equilibrium, almost falling twice.

  Overhead the funnel they’d gone through started to close, sending fresh cascades of water over the edge. Something squeezed through just before the last sliver closed. It fell with a terrified screech and landed in the middle of the boat, hissing and yelling.

  It was Vingar! He was on his back, unable to flip over. He thrashed wildly; landing another blow on Filip, who cursed and grabbed his leg, where fresh blood welled. The others drew back in alarm. Madam Brown even jumped out of the boat, disappearing up to her chest in the water.

  The water-wyvern scrabbled at the air with his tiny legs and eventually managed to turn over. He locked his evil black eyes on Zaria and bared his teeth. His tail slashed menacingly and the crown around his little neck puffed up in warning. He hissed.

  “Stop that,” she told him sternly, doing her best imitation of her adoptive mom, Meredith. She even waggled a finger at the creature.

  “Zar-Zar, are you trying to reason with it?” Filip asked, “because I don’t think that will work.”

  Vingar agreed, emitting another frightening hiss that raised the hair on her arms. Zaria crossed them to hide her anxiety, straightening her posture.

  “If you don’t behave I won’t change you back,” she said. “You’ll be little for the rest of your life.”

  He bared his teeth and thrashed his tail, screeching indignantly. He was not happy with her.

  “I mean it,” Zaria warned, her voice only quavering slightly. “You don’t scare me,” she added, her voice stronger. “Now be good.”

  Vingar tried to swipe at her and Zaria twitched her fingers, wishing the water-wyvern would freeze in place. The creature didn’t freeze and landed his blow. Zaria hissed and leapt back. When he made to do it again, Zaria flung out her hand to stop him.

  He didn’t stop and Hector grabbed him from behind, using leather gloves. That enraged Vingar more and he flailed and squirmed and wiggled until, with a dismal wail, fell still, panting from exertion. Hector gave him a pat, gentling him.

  “There, there, beastie,” the Stag Lord said soothingly. “It’ll be all right, you’ll see. You didn’t like being so big and trapped in that lake now did you?”

  Vingar thrashed half-heartedly and subsided, leaning into Hector’s touch. Christoffer and Filip stared agape as the horrible, terrifying, water-wyvern became as sweet as a puppy in Hector’s arms. Zaria could hardly believe it herself.

  “Now don’t fuss,” Hector said. “We’ll set you to rights in a nice, big, lake soon enough. If you’re an agreeable beastie we might even set you down in a place that connects back to the ocean.”

  After that statement, he placed Vingar in the water. Aleks jumped about a foot in the air as the water-wyvern swam at him. The creature diverted and nearly scared Filip flat on his back. Geirr and Zaria cringed as he swerved in their direction. Madam Brown had climbed up Christoffer’s back and hung there like a limpet.

  Vingar circled the boat and came back to Hector. He popped his head up and spit a stream of water, splashing Hector in the face. The Stag Lord swiped it off as the water-wyvern cackled. That was the only term Zaria could think of to describe it. She did not like that sound. The hairs on her nape rose in alarm.

  “Wow,” said Christoffer. “You’re like a wizard. I would not have thought the little monster could be tamed.”

  “I would not have believed it myself if I hadn’t witnessed it with my very own eyes,” Madam Brown said. “All the same, I think I will stay where I am.”

  “Sure,” agreed Christoffer, hiking the brownie up higher on his back. “I don’t mind.”

  “Why didn’t my magic work?” asked Zaria, frowning down at her hands. She wiped the thin line of blood from her thumb where Vingar had hit her. “Why could I shrink him, but not freeze him?”

  Hector, patted the top of the water-wyvern’s head as it circled him. “I don’t know, Princess. You should be able to do both. Do you know what
you did differently?”

  She shook her head miserably.

  “Cheer up, Zar-Zar,” said Filip. “You just shrank a fully-grown water-wyvern. You should be over the moon, not unhappy.”

  “You will figure it out,” said Aleks, pulling his backpack from the boat and shouldering it. He handed hers to her.

  “Exactly,” agreed Geirr, smiling. He’d recovered from the nausea. “And when you do, you’ll be damn good at it. Koll won’t know what hit him.”

  “I hope so,” Zaria said, worrying her lip. She hid her hands in her pockets.

  Hector pulled out his necklace again and shone the flashlight on it. Zaria shielded her eyes from the glare and looked away. The light contracted and focused into a single sharp beam. Hector clicked off the light.

  Zaria blinked a few times, clearing her vision. When she could see again, she saw that the antechamber they were in was shaped like the bottom half of an hourglass. The room was dimly lit by glowing rocks in the walls. A trio of tunnels led out of the room.

  “This place is fantastic,” Christoffer said, echoing her thoughts. “What’s glowing in the walls?”

  “Some kind of mineral or crystal, I don’t know which exactly. I’m more of a tree guy,” replied Hector, he pointed to the left. “We go in that direction.”

  “Lucky for us this is the opposite way of the great forges,” said Aleks.

  Geirr looked at him, confused. “How can you tell? Have you been here before?”

  Aleks pointed behind them. “I can feel the air is warmer in that direction. Also, the tunnel looks a little bit brighter.”

  Geirr grinned and held out his hand for a high-five. He said, “No crazy slave-owning dwarves to deal with then – finally, a stroke of good fortune.”

  Aleks high-fived him. “Now, let’s go rescue Hart.”

  The glowing rocks from the hourglass room continued to light their path, as Hector and Aleks led the way down the dark tunnel. Zaria slogged her way through the water, keeping up with Filip and Geirr. Christoffer followed behind, lugging Madam Brown on his back. She watched Vingar warily as he circled the group, jumping in and out of their wakes like a dolphin.

 

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