Dragon Talker

by Anderson, Steve

  Selma coughed again. Hental asked, “Are you okay?”

  “I’m old and dying, Hental, but yes, I’m okay. Just hanging on to that cough for something to do.”

  “Well,” Hental thought about it, “I want you to stay around for a while. See me do a good job with the goats.”

  “I know you will, Hental, and when I am gone, and you’re up on the mountain, I’ll be watching out for you, and my goats.” Selma couldn’t help but tease Hental a little, “So, that means no more nicknames with ‘butt’ in them. You have to respect the goats, Hental. They will keep you alive, no matter what the season.”

  “I know.” Hental liked hearing Selma’s ideas, but only a few. He had his own ideas that he could only try out when he was up in the mountains, with the goats. “Time for the walk.”

  “Time for the walk,” Selma agreed.

  The walk, which Selma had specific ideas about, was taking the goats through the village on the way to the path to the mountains to the west. As much as Selma said she didn’t like the villagers, Hental thought, she seemed to care a great deal about how they saw her and her goats. If a goat was sick, or even recovering from an illness, it stayed back in the pens by the hut. They were trained to stick close together in the village, too. If a goat was acting up as she rounded them up, she made sure to keep that goat close to her to keep an eye on it. She was quick to prod it with her staff to keep it in line.

  Selma walked out with Hental to the pens in back and said, “I have something for you.”

  Hental looked around, but he didn’t see anything new that could be for him. Selma handed him her staff, the little bell tied to the top jingled as she held it out to Hental. The staff was a good two feet taller than Hental. Once he had his hand on it, Selma let go. Hental stared at the staff. He thought, this is the best staff in the world. It was also a clear sign for everyone to see that Selma supported Hental. Even the goats would respond to the bell they had heard all their lives.

  Hental didn’t know what to say. He felt full, of pride, of responsibility, of love, and of fear. All these emotions where tumbling around in his chest and stomach. Selma smiled, “Time for the walk, my boy.”

  Hental didn’t trust his voice, so he simply nodded and headed to the main pen’s gate. He both counted and looked over the goats as they came out. Primrose and Willow had recovered enough to make the walk, but Oak still looked a little shaky. He decided Oak would stay back, and since he seemed to get along best with Willow, he kept her back so Oak would have company. He was secretly glad that Oak, the goat he called Dragon Butt, was not going to be in the mix for his fist walk. If there was a goat that would try to cause a ruckus, he thought it would be him.

  Selma nodded approvingly. She also wanted his first walk to go smoothly. She wasn’t alone. Unknown to Hental, most of the village was aware that today was the day. Selma told Lindale earlier in the morning, and he was spreading the word, alone with a few cautions to Halagrin and Thomas, two boys who had a history of starting trouble. It didn’t hurt that he confiscated the boys’ slings for the day, and their spare leather, promising to return them, assuming nothing unexpected happened this morning.

  Lindale didn’t know about Piotr, though. He was a boy who couldn’t seem to stop harassing Hental whenever he got the chance, which was more often now that Yuri was gone. Agardia knew, and there was no way she was going to let this bully ruin her son’s first walk through the village. She and Tadeus had a plan that had both a carrot and a stick. They were prepared to use both if they had to. As Hental was rounding up the goats, Agardia was talking to Piotr’s mother and Tadeus was walking the path Hental would be taking, looking for Piotr and anything out of the ordinary.

  Unaware of his parents’ efforts on his behalf, Hental rounded up the goats amid sounds of his bell, their baas, and the clicking and clacking of the small dried pieces of wood each goat wore on a cord on its neck. He asked Selma, “Are you coming with?”

  “No, Hental, this is your work.” Hental frowned as she coughed again but smiled when she added, “I’m proud of you, my boy.”

  “I won’t let you down.” With that, Hental stamped the staff on the ground, jingling the bell, and started herding the goats through the village.

  Chapter 46

  Melanie reached her hand into her pocket occasionally to touch the jagged piece of silver. With all she had seen and experienced, she was surprised that she could still doubt what a mage could do, but she did. It felt good to feel the silver. A jaded part of her mind, though, wondered if she just wasn’t feeling an acorn that had been charmed to look and feel like silver. Still, there were a lot more reasons to believe it was real than that it wasn’t.

  The three of them, Melanie, Xeron, and Tail Biter, had been walking the barely cart-width path through the dense woods for nearly two hours. She thought about the life in Perantium that awaited her if she returned and the worrying her mother must be doing at her absence. She made up her mind, saying to Xeron in front of her, “I’ll do it, as long as I can get my mother to agree.”

  Xeron looked back, “Excellent. I was hoping you would.” With that, he turned his attention back to the trail and kept walking.

  “Okay,” she replied quietly. Looking at Tail Biter, she said lowly, “I guess we’ll talk more about it later.” Tail Biter wagged his tail in response. She scratched behind his ear. “All right, let’s go. It won’t do to lose the boss before the job has even begun.”

  A few steps later, Xeron paused for a moment, then resumed walking. “Melanie, I want you to listen carefully. This is a matter of some seriousness.”

  “I’m listening.” She looked at Tail Biter and rolled her eyes.

  “There may be times when Perante or some other mage may become interested in what I do. Those would be dangerous times. Times when I will have to act quickly.” His tone never changed as he spoke, but Melanie saw the hackles go up on Tail Biter, causing her to look around the woods for danger.

  “Is this one of those times?” she asked.

  “It will be, soon. When I tell you to do something, it will be crucial for your safety that you follow my directions without question. Do you understand?”

  “Of course I do. I’m not stupid.” She realized the last part might not have been called for. “I will do what you say, as long as my clothes stay on.”

  Melanie couldn’t see it, but Xeron smiled. He had no time for fools, and Melanie was obviously no one’s fool. He thought she would be a good assistant for what he was going to do, if they made it out of the forest alive. He thought leaving Perante’s chateau was too easy. He shook his head. I’m so stupid, he thought. I just about took down his castle. He wouldn’t attack me again at any place he wanted to keep intact.

  Xeron couldn’t figure out the point of taking him to the chateau, but Perante always had reasons for what he did. Right now, Xeron’s personal charms designed to warn him when someone had hostile intent against him were burning his arms. More than one person was out to harm him, and they were nearby.

  “When I say now, I want you to grab Tail Biter’s collar. Do you understand?”

  Melanie bit back a retort, knowing that things were serious. “Yes,” was all she replied.

  Xeron ran through his options. Without knowing exactly what he was up against, he didn’t want to tip his hand too soon. On the other hand, if he didn’t do anything he would be reacting to their move. He wanted space and high ground, and the time to get there. He bent his wrists, bringing his hands parallel to the ground.

  Melanie was grabbing the collar before he had finished saying, “Now.” Kneeling down, Xeron cast a numbing spell downward and out, bouncing off the ground and expanding in a circle around them. Tail Biter’s collar protected him from the spell, and Melanie was protected because of her contact with it, too. Still, she felt the spell pass over her like a strong wind.

  The burning of his arms lessened, but only slightly. Either the men planning to attack him were protected from the spell or the
re were more than he realized. Either way, it did not clear a path for them as he had hoped. “Come stand by me,” he said to Melanie.

  “We’re not running?”

  “No, there are too many, or a few too well protected.” He scanned the woods with his eyes and magic.

  Melanie looked, too, but didn’t see anything. “Are you sure that there is anyone out…” She stopped talking as the men started appearing out of the woods. At first, she wasn’t even sure they were men. Their camouflage made them look like parts of the trees around them.

  The men formed a circle around them. Xeron counted ten. If he didn’t put all his attention on the men he could see, he would have realized that another six were lying on the ground, knocked out by his spell. “Do you know who I am? Or are you just following Perante’s orders to catch some mage in the woods?”

  A tall, broad shouldered man smiled, saying, “What’s it matter?”

  The leader, thought Xeron. He looked around, looking for the weak links. “Well, if you know who I am, you will know that I cracked Perante’s castle, and it just might not be worth your pay to get in my way.”

  “Hear that, boys? We’ve got ourselves a powerful mage here. Maybe we should just quit and go home.” The circle tightened around them.

  No one talked. Xeron realized he was dealing with a disciplined group. His anger rose. This was no random group of men. These were mage-killers, men for hire with enough spells and protections given to them by a mage like Perante to take out other mages.

  Melanie stepped closer to Xeron. Xeron smiled, “Do you think they look thirsty?”

  Melanie was afraid, but his smile gave her confidence. “Yes, yes I do.”

  A shimmering protective sphere formed around them. The men stopped moving in, taking time to examine the sphere. There were different types, some more for show than protection. They were trying to figure out which kind this was. Xeron didn’t plan on giving them time to do that. He turned his head to Melanie, telling her, “Whatever you do, don’t let go of Tail Biter’s collar and stay behind me.”

  Melanie nodded, “Believe me, I won’t. And will.”

  To the men surrounding him, he said, “You are going to die now. That is your choice. If you want to change that decision, now is the time to do it. Anyone who leaves now can live, unless I see you again.” He closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind to the trees closest the men. Four of the men were close to trees, close enough that he hoped the explosion would kill or seriously wound them. Now that he knew what he was doing, it was easy, even though he was working four trees instead of one.

  How much power is in the earth? he wondered as the trees started to crack and moan. The men looked around at the trees, moving away from them, but it was too late. Four trees exploded from the inside, launching large chunks of wood out into the forest as geysers of water soaked the surrounding area. The four men near him went down, but Xeron couldn’t be sure if they were knocked down and out or simply ducking debris.

  Three of the six remaining men pulled out swords from their scabbards. By their looks, Xeron assumed the swords were coated with a thin layer of silver. No one knew why, but silver had a way of penetrating magical spells. Gold was just the opposite, as if magic had a special ability to repel it. Tail Biter was growling and Melanie was gripping the back of his coat tightly.

  “There are three behind you, and they have swords,” she warned.

  “So you got us a little wet. How terrifying. You may want to make a run for it, little girl,” the leader taunted, “we’re not here for you.”

  Xeron didn’t say anything. Instead, he thought of silver. He closed his eyes, trusting Tail Biter to let him know if anyone was able to penetrate the sphere. He knew the other men had armed their bows, but he knew they were waiting for the men with swords to pierce the sphere before they would launch their arrows. His brows narrowed as he searched the ground for metal.

  The sensation of being the roots in the ground washed over him, and he changed track. Feeling stones under the soil and closer to the surface, he chose seven cannonball sized stones and brought them to the surface. He could have sworn he heard the slightest sucking sound as they broke free of the ground, as if the ground didn’t want to let go.

  “Hey,” one of the archers shouted, “he just brought up stones from the ground.”

  Before they could react, he sent the stones out at the men at chest level. The leader stood his ground, but one of the archers dropped his bow and took off running. The other four men tried to avoid the stones but were hit squarely in the chest or winged on the side as they tried to dodge the rocks. The leader leaned into his stone. It pushed him back when it hit, but he was still standing. He was obviously the most protected of the group.

  Two men remained on the ground. The others stood up quickly, but Xeron could tell they would be much more cautious. He wasn’t about to give them a chance. He closed his eyes and trusted the sphere to protect him as he searched deeper into the ground. The silver was deeper than the nugget he brought up for Melanie, much deeper, but he began calling it up as Melanie kept looking around at the closing circle of men.

  “I hope you have something planned and you’re not just resting.”

  She didn’t see the slight smile cross his face, but she heard him say, “This will be over quickly.”

  The silver was tumbling upward, carving its way through the soil and picking up speed as they did so. By the time they hit the surface, they appeared as sliver streaks exploding from the ground and disappearing into the sky. A few branches, hit by the pieces of silver, fell to the ground.

  Lowering his bow, one of the archers asked, “What was that?”

  “Silver,” Xeron said quietly. Melanie remembered the jagged feel of silver in her hand and closed her eyes as Xeron reversed the pieces of silver’s course, sending a nugget at each attacker. The silver rained down, tearing through any magical protections the men had and then went through their bodies.

  A few extra pieces of silver he didn’t use dropped to the ground around them. Melanie raised her hands above her head to protect herself, while Xeron cast a life force spell to see the condition of their attackers. All were either dead or dying, besides the archer who left early and the leader. He, Xeron realized, was quite well protected, though the silver had injured him.

  The leader was holding his arm across his chest and running as quickly as he could away from Xeron. Xeron sent a piece of silver into his leg. The man crumpled to the ground. Before walking over to him, he said to Melanie, “Stay here. You don’t need to see this.”

  “You’re going to kill him.” It wasn’t a question.

  Xeron looked at her, saying gruffly, “I’m not going to make him pancakes.”

  Melanie shook her head and raised her hands. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “We will. In a minute. I’ll be right back.” Xeron walked to the wounded leader. By the looks of him, his right shoulder was dislocated and his leg was broken. The silver in the wounds kept the man’s healing charms from working. Xeron studied the man in front of him and knew he would have done much worse to them. Anger was building in his chest. This was a professional mage killer.

  The leader spit out blood. Xeron added punctured lungs to his list of injuries. The man looked up at Xeron and said, “I was just doing my job. Nothing personal.”

  “My life is very personal to me.” Xeron took out his own small, silver blade he kept in a sheath in the small of his back. “Perante?”

  “Who else?” Coughing, the man added, “I know things about…”

  Xeron slid the blade between his ribs, piercing the man’s heart, killing him instantly. “That’s better than you deserve. And I know all I need to know about Perante.”

  Wiping the blade on the man’s jacket, Xeron returned it to his sheath. He spit on the ground next to the dead man and walked back to Melanie and Tail Biter. Melanie was wondering if working for him would be such a great idea. “Does this happen a lot?”

/>   “It never happened before, but Perante is afraid of me.”

  Melanie thought about all she had seen in the last twenty-four hours. “Okay, I can see that. Um, how much danger would I be putting my family in working for you?”

  Xeron thought about it, “A lot, until I take care of Perante, though I could do a pretty good job protecting you. The archer will let him know what happened. That you’ve seen all this means Perante will want you no matter what. I’m sorry for that, but that’s the way it is.”

  “Yeah, that’s the way it is, everywhere.” She was momentarily resigned, then realized the new danger her mother was in. “Hey, that means he’ll take my mother!”

  Xeron snapped his fingers and flicked his index finger off his forehead. “Dragon’s tail! Sorry. I didn’t think that through. May I borrow Tail Biter for a little while?”

  “Yes, please do.”

  “He’s bonded to you, so grab his collar and give me your other hand.” As soon as she did, Xeron used her as a conduit for his message. Tail Biter took off running in the direction the archer left.

  “You can stay here. This might take a little time.”

  Melanie looked at the circle of dead men surrounding her. “I think I’ll go with you.”

  Xeron cast a gathering spell and all the pieces of silver flew to a spot in front of him, hovering in a cloud of silver nuggets three feet off the ground. Many of the nuggets were covered in blood. He saw the look on Melanie’s face and cast a cleaning spell. Dried blood fell to the ground as a polished shine spread over the floating pieces of silver. He collected the silver, placing it in an inner jacket pocket.

  They began walking. Melanie assumed correctly that Xeron could follow Tail Biter magically. An odd thought popped into her mind, but she was happy to be distracted. She asked, “If you can cast a spell to clean things, why do you need to hire servants?”

  Xeron stopped walking and turned to answer her. “Well, doing everything with magic is tawdry, for one.”

  “And…” she prompted.