The Summer Dragon

by Todd Lockwood

  There was no time to stop and show him, or even explain.

  “By Korruzon’s blazing, sulphurous farts! You have a dragon in your pack!”

  An angry bellow turned our heads. Malik had backed down the trail, fending off the Horror with his talons and teeth, but the situation had changed for the worse. He gave ground with every exchange, and soldiers were creeping up on him.

  Keirr struggled and cried in my pack. Oh, High Ones, I thought. Malik.

  Darian did his best to lurch after me, half walking, half hopping. We turned a corner and lost sight of Malik, but the sound of other footfalls drew near.

  “Keep going!” I hunkered down with my crossbow. The silhouette of a man came around the bend and I loosed. He fell with a muffled cry.

  “High Ones.” Darian froze.

  “I told you to keep going!” I watched for a moment, as Malik’s roars and the scuffling, tearing sounds of dragons in battle continued unabated. I dashed forward, grabbed the downed soldier’s crossbow out of his hands, and tried to rip his quiver loose from his belt. It wouldn’t let go. The soldier stared at me with pale eyes, gasping for a breath that wasn’t going to come. I bent down and with my knife slashed the cords that held the quiver, then retreated with my stomach squirming.

  Malik backed around the bend, snarling, forepaws slashing in frenzy at the dark form of the Horror, just out of sight.

  “Dare—Malik is in trouble!”

  “Who is Malik?”

  “Malik! Keirr’s poppa.”

  “Who is Keirr?”

  “Avar, Darian! Don’t be so dense.”

  I grabbed his shirt under his arm and lifted, supporting him as best I could. He hopped and skipped after me, cursing.

  The cave narrowed as we descended, until at last we came to a slender passage with an ancient, crumbling dragon’s nest on either side. Freshly splintered wood blocked the way, and it took me a moment to identify it as the cart that had transported Keirr’s cage. The donkeys were nowhere in sight, but they had left the shattered cart behind.

  “Go, Dare—through here.” I handed him the new crossbow and quiver, then gave him a push. He stumbled over the debris and into the narrow defile without argument. Then I unstoppered the keg of lantern oil and backtracked a little way.

  The snarling and scuffle drew near. Malik’s roars sounded desperate. The light from the fire uphill was growing brighter, and smoke filled the upper cave.

  I hurried to pull wood out of the nests to either side of this skinny doorway, piling it together with the wood of the destroyed cart. It wasn’t easy; the dragons were good at building solid nests.

  Little Keirr protested with squeaks and squawks at the violent movement. “Hush, baby! Please hang on!”

  I poured lantern oil on the wood in front of the narrow opening and soaked the remnants of the rope that had bound Darian.

  “What are you doing?” he called.

  “Shut up. Just keep moving.”

  Keirr struggled and squawked in my knapsack. Malik backed into sight again, but two Harodhi warriors leapt past him, with crossbows leveled. I ducked behind a stony column as a bow cracked. The arrow shattered on the wall across from me, and I cried out in alarm. I stuck a bit of the rope into the bung opening of the oil keg, then turned the keg upside down until oil dripped onto the floor. Another arrow cracked on the wall opposite me.

  I peeked quickly around the corner. Two Harodhi soldiers were sneaking up on my position, one struggling to cock his crossbow, the other with his weapon leveled.

  I opened the shutters of the lantern to light the rope in the keg of oil. Then I jumped around the corner and took in the setting as quickly as I could. The two Harodhi warriors saw me and lifted their bows. I heaved the keg of lantern oil in their direction. It shattered on a stone in front of them, and oil splashed to douse the one in front. They loosed, but both their panicked shots missed me as I ducked back into cover.

  The oil didn’t ignite immediately, which wasn’t a surprise. I crouched down with my crossbow and pulled to cock it. The mechanism was stiff, and one of the Harodhi sprang around the edge of my cover, surprising me. There came a snap from behind me, and an arrow appeared in the man’s neck, dropping him. I glanced over my shoulder to see Darian, white-faced, lowering the crossbow I’d just given him. I left my bow and labored instead to ignite the last bit of oil-doused rope. It started to burn, and I tossed it onto the wood in front of me.

  “Come on!” Darian hopped away, into the narrow defile. I followed, looking backward.

  The oil burst into flames all at once, just as the other soldier stepped into the opening. The oil that had splashed on his robes ignited suddenly. He dropped his bow and threw his arms over his head, screaming. He slapped at himself, spinning about frantically, but the flames only climbed up his clothing to turn him into a blazing torch.

  Keirr screamed in fear at my back.

  I ran to Darian, wrapped an arm under his ribs, and together we staggered down a long, narrow passageway, shrieks of pain and defiant roars chasing us, and little Keirr screeching in my knapsack.

  Suddenly we burst out into a large chamber where the diffused light from behind us dissipated into denser gloom. Darian stumbled and cried out, and his echoes answered from far away. I hauled him to his feet and pressed forward.

  “Open the lantern wider,” I said.

  “How?” He stumbled again, barely managing to set the lantern down without dropping it. I collapsed next to him, grating my wounded palms on the stone floor. His shoulder was bleeding freely, soaking his shirt and mine.

  “Maia,” Darian gasped. “I hurt. I can’t . . .”

  “You have to.” I flicked the lantern doors wider, burning my fingers in the process. Then I pushed to my feet and helped Darian up. “We have to keep moving. Come on.”

  We had traveled barely fifty yards when the light coming from behind grew brighter. We crouched behind a rock and looked back.

  Malik burst through the opening with the burning corpse of the Harodhi warrior in his jaws. He dropped the lifeless body and licked a flame off his lips. Then he roared with unrestrained fury, upright and wide-stanced with the glowing tunnel behind him like a vision from one of Mabir’s most dour sermons.

  “Up, Darian! Up!”

  Keirr cried and whimpered as I hoisted Darian to his feet again. Then I once more shuttered the lantern down to its narrowest opening. The wheel track went down, and down, and down.

  TWENTY-ONE

  I STUMBLED ON, supporting and pulling Darian. He winced and sucked air through his clenched teeth with every step, but kept up with me as best he could. I was grateful for the downhill slope; it would have been impossible otherwise.

  Keirr struggled in my knapsack, crying to get out, and in the darkness behind us, Malik followed. I couldn’t see him any longer, but I heard his pained grunts and threatening whuffs and snarls.

  We struggled on through an alien landscape for what seemed an age. For the first time I was able to really see the strange shapes like melted candles. Stalactites hung from a ceiling out of sight above and stalagmites rose like waxen spires from the cavern floor. Many had joined to form the same sort of distorted, stony columns populating the outer caves. The shapes became truly bizarre as columns swallowed neighboring spears, suggesting deformed monsters or twisted trees. The careening light from our narrow beam gave the pillars an illusion of life, as if they marched off into the deep gloom surrounding us. The cavern was immense, the furthest walls invisible.

  Hollow echoes and the drip, drip, drip of water accompanied us at every step. Everything glistened with moisture.

  “I have to rest.” Darian panted.

  My legs burned and the straps of the knapsack cut into my shoulders. A rest sounded wonderful, but we couldn’t stop. Malik was keeping pace with us, and I feared what would happen if he caught us. “I know,
but we can’t.”

  “Mowp?” said Keirr yet again. It seemed that everyone needed something.

  “Keirr, Keirr. Yes. Mowp. But we have to put some distance between us and your poppa.”

  “Great—you’ll stop for a mowp, but your bleeding brother has to press on?” He meant it as sarcastic humor, but the truth was obvious: we were hurting.

  “Just for a few seconds, then. Let me take the lay of things.”

  Darian collapsed with a groan onto a rock and set the lantern on the trail at his feet. I carefully shrugged out of the knapsack and set it on the ground too. Keirr had managed to work her head out from beneath the blanket and blinked at me with her beautiful silver eyes.

  “Mowp?”

  “Avar, baby, but you do want what you want.” I fished into my pockets for a bit of venison. In the wild, she wouldn’t have been fed piecemeal like this. She’d have had one huge, satisfying feast off of fresh kill, and then she’d have slept. I held a steak out to Darian. “Feed her this. Please?” He looked up at me, then took the meat and held it for Keirr to gnaw on.

  I picked up the lantern and opened its shutters wide, pointing it back the way we came. Perhaps we’d gained some ground on Malik after all—he was nowhere in sight. He must be hurting far worse than we were. But I heard him still.

  Then, far up the trail, a pinpoint of light shined back at me. It blinked once, and then disappeared. One reflection.

  “Keirr!” Malik’s distant voice was now hoarse and pained. The echoes rang but then answered themselves from much farther away, repeating, Keirr! Keirr! Keirr! His baby looked up and made that peculiar poppa honk again. She had a name of her own for her sire that I wanted to be able to say. I tried to imitate it.

  “It sounds like you just stepped on a goose.” Darian tried to chuckle, but his voice was raspy and his face looked gaunt in the dim light.

  “He’s getting closer, Darian. We have to keep moving.”

  “Do you have water?”

  “Yes.” I passed him my waterskin. “But hurry.”

  He tipped it up and drank deeply.

  “Save some!” He lowered it again and handed it back to me without comment. I weighed it unhappily. It was less than a quarter full. I was thirsty and didn’t doubt that Keirr would appreciate a drink too.

  I held the lantern in front of me and peered into the darkness. Fifty yards or so ahead the track took a bend to the left and upward, the first upward track we’d come to. The rise would be difficult, but it might buy us some time against Malik.

  I handed the waterskin back to Darian, then cupped my hands under Keirr’s chin. “Pour some out, Dare. Please.” He did, and Keirr lapped it up quickly, with barely a drop spilled. “Mowp?”

  “Is there any left?” I asked.

  Darian shook the waterskin. “A few drops, maybe.”

  I frowned. It would be best to sate her needs, so she would remain quiet. Sooner or later, she had to sleep. “Give them to her.”

  He poured the last of our water into my hands, and Keirr took it all.

  “Mowp?”

  I pulled the blanket back over her head. “Not now, baby. Not now.” I checked the drawstrings on the pack, then shrugged back into it.

  Malik’s heavy steps and labored panting grew louder. He clicked once, loudly, and was answered with echoes.

  “Let’s go, Darian. Come on.” I knelt, he put his arm around my shoulder, and we resumed our halting progress.

  The switchback proved to be an ordeal. How did the Harodhi manage to move carts or wagons over this tortured, stony rise? It was more like stairs than a trail, and Darian had a difficult time with the bumpy ascent. He leaned heavily on me, grunting and cursing with every step.

  Suddenly I realized it was a stair. The path had been carved out of the strange, molten rock forms, and each step, though now decaying and overlaid with hardened flows of liquid stone, was spaced deliberately for a human stride. It reminded me immediately of Cinvat valley. What other features did I fail to observe before this? What might I see with my lantern opened wide? Finally we came to a flat space, and I opened the lantern shutters again to take a look back. All was still. Under a sheer cliff face, the trail below us where we had paused a few minutes ago was empty. I still heard Malik, but he had fallen behind.

  “Breather!” gasped Darian, and I agreed. I was worried that the climb might have aggravated his wounds. He collapsed to the floor, and I set little Keirr down beside him.

  “I need to bind your shoulder, Darian,” I said. “Your turn to give up a sleeve.” He didn’t move as I took my knife to the slash in his shirt and finished what the Harodhi leader started. The cut had stopped bleeding freely but still oozed bright red. He was dehydrated, making every drop of blood all the more precious. In the end, I needed both his sleeves in order to bind it securely.

  “Now let me look at your leg.”

  “Careful.” His face was deathly pale, his skin waxen. I hid my reaction as I inspected his wound.

  The arrow had pierced his leg completely, and the slender arrowhead protruded from his swollen shin, bright red blood oozing out. Bright was bad: rich blood from an artery. The fact that it merely oozed suggested that the artery wasn’t severed entirely, though for all I knew his boot was full of blood. I feared to touch it.

  “I have to leave it, Dare.”

  “Okay.” No argument.

  “I’m afraid what will happen if I try to pull it out.”

  “Okay.” His eyes were closed, as if he were about to fall asleep.

  “Get up. We have to keep moving.”

  He looked up at me, bleary eyed. “You have no idea where we’re going, do you,” he said, matter-of-factly.

  I swallowed. “Yes I do. I am following the Harodhi cart track.”

  “Great—back to Harodhi-land! Good thinking.” He gave a painful chuckle. “We’d better hurry then.” He struggled to rise, and I helped him up.

  I wanted to have a quick look at the trail we had covered already. “We’re about out of oil.” I started, as I turned the lantern to the trail behind.

  Malik was directly below us. When he saw my light, he leapt up at me with a roar and snarl, scrabbling with his talons on the slippery smooth cliff face.

  I screamed in surprise, and Darian shot to his feet, away from the edge. Keirr cried out in panic as I froze in shock at what I saw.

  Malik was a nightmare. He was covered with soot and smelled of smoke. The ferocious raking of the Horror had broken off many of the arrows studding his neck, chest, and forelegs. The deep gashes bled horribly, sticky and black. His face was crosshatched with bite-marks, and his left eye was gone, the socket clogged with thick globs of congealing blood.

  I cried out in horror, unable to move, caught between fright and devastated sympathy.

  He made one more lunge at the lip of the cliff, roaring in anger, but his bloodied and splintered talons fell short, and he slid back down to the trail below. He leapt again, scratching and clawing, but made even less progress. Finally he collapsed on the road beneath us with his head hanging, his wings drooping.

  Keirr cried and struggled in my pack.

  “Oh poor Malik!” I said, as he chuffed in agony below.

  Darian grabbed me. “Poor Malik? What is the matter with you?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand that he wants his baby back. How is that difficult for you?”

  I pulled away from Darian’s grasp and looked down at Malik, panting at the foot of the short cliff below. He barely moved. “You’re right,” I admitted at last. “He won’t stop. We have to keep moving.”

  “Yes, we do. Gods, Maia, he’s a wild animal.”

  “And you wouldn’t be here, alive, but for him!” My echoing words agreed with me.

  Darian’s lips drew tight and he said nothing more.
I put my arm under his again, tears rolling down my cheeks. My baby’s laments faded, and I felt her head—once again free of the blanket—resting on my shoulder. I didn’t have a hand to spare to give her a reassuring rub.

  We pressed ahead, yard by yard, in silence. When I stopped to look around or listen, I saw only distorted candle-wax architecture, heard only the dripping of water and the distant chuffing and snarling of Malik, still in pursuit. The track stayed more or less level for the next hour or so, and we followed it without a break, until the lantern flame started to gutter.

  “Oh no, Darian . . .”

  He looked at the lamp, then at me, then back the way we had come, and finally forward into the blackness. “Do you have any wood?”

  It seemed like a stupid question. The only wood we had with us was our crossbows and quarrels, none of which we dared sacrifice. But Darian was in bad shape. He had lost a lot of blood; his mind was slipping.

  I opened the shutters all the way. “We keep moving until we run out of light.” I cast the beam around us, but it didn’t go as far as I would have liked. On the trail just ahead I spied something that didn’t belong. Only then did the smell connect in my brain.

  “Donkey dung!” I said. “There in the road. The donkeys passed this way. How could they find their way in the dark?”

  Darian looked at me blankly.

  “Don’t you get it? If we can catch up to them you can ride.”

  I pointed the beam forward, but it disappeared into the gloom. I shifted slightly, and it fell upon a shape that struck me as odd. On second look, it became the statue of a man wearing strange, form-fitting clothing, half buried in a column of stone that had grown up around its legs and torso. There was a stump of a statue on the other side as well. I realized then that we stood upon tightly knit pavers, overlaid on either side with the solidified excretions of the mountain, like frozen streams at the feet of the spires. Looking back, I now spied columns and walls of obvious artifice, covered with friezes of ancient deeds and curiously garbed people, who disappeared behind frozen waterfalls of melted stone. I’d walked right past them.