The Dragons of Decay

by J. J. Thompson

  “You're right,” Simon said to Kronk solemnly. “He is gloomy.”

  “What? I'm, I just...argh!”

  The wizard laughed shortly and grinned at him.

  “Easy, Aeris. Don't burst anything. I'm just kidding.”

  The air elemental subsided with a grumble but looked a little less tense.

  “There, that's better,” Simon said. He leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands.

  “You are quite right though,” he said thoughtfully. “Obviously our enemies know that I'm back. The goddess warned me that they would and it seems that she was right.”

  He looked around the room vaguely, the light from the candles on the desk making the shadows dance. The daylight from outside struggled to get through the ice coating the windows and the study was quite dark.

  “I think that the tower is as secure as I can make it. We know that it can stand up to a dragon attack; it's already done so. But the new town is a different story. Walls won't keep out a dragon, even if they are warded.”

  He looked at Kronk who was listening closely.

  “What they need down there is a central structure, like the tower here, where I can place a ward that will connect all of the other wards together to shield the entire town.”

  “It would have to be a very powerful one, master,” the earthen said, stroking his chin. “The ward on the top of this tower connects all of the others along the outer wall, but the grounds here are not nearly as large in size as those of the new town. I do not know if such a thing is possible.”

  “You don't need to protect the entire town,” Aeris said as if stating the obvious.

  “We don't?”

  “Of course not. If the townspeople rebuild following the pattern of Nottinghill, which I'm guessing they will, they will build a central town hall. You only need to ward that structure. The town's outer wall will repel a ground-based attack and, if dragons attack from the air, the community can retreat into the warded hall and wait out the assault.” He shrugged. “The town itself would probably suffer significant damage, but the people would survive.”

  “Damn,” Simon said heatedly. “If only I'd warded the town hall in Nottinghill that way, maybe the people wouldn't have had to move after all. Or die,” he added grimly.

  “You could not know that wights would overcome the town's defenses, master,” Kronk told him. “When we travel down to the new settlement, my brethren and I will add arches to both gates and you can ward them properly. That will stop almost anything from breaking through. And if Clara agrees, we will construct a town hall that you can ward as well.”

  “You look quite pale at the moment, my dear wizard,” Aeris said abruptly. “You need to eat something. This casting is draining your rather thin reserves more quickly than I imagined it would.”

  He floated over to the doorway.

  “I will warm up some stew. Kronk, don't let him use any more magic and get him downstairs as soon as you can.”

  “Agreed,” Kronk replied with a glance at Simon. “He is looking a bit peaky, isn't he?”

  “He is, so get him moving. And put out those candles before you come down. The last thing we need is another fire in the tower.”

  “Um, guys? I'm not a child,” Simon protested. “Stop talking as if I'm not in the room.”

  Aeris just shook his head and went out, leaving Kronk to meet the wizard's frown with one of his own.

  “Master, you know that we have your best interests at heart, do you not?”

  “Yes, of course you do. But...”

  “And you have never been the best gauge of your own physical condition, yes?”

  “Well, yes, only...”

  “Then please allow us to help get you back to your old self. We want to do it and your friends need you back in fighting form, so do not argue, master. Just accept the help knowing that it is for your own good.”

  He stopped speaking and his red eyes widened as if he was surprised at his own boldness. But before he could apologize, Simon held up a hand.

  “Don't be sorry for setting me straight, Kronk. I need that sometimes. You two are amazingly patient with me and, although I may not always show it, I really am grateful for it.”

  “Then in that case, master,” the earthen said with a little smile. “Get downstairs and eat!”

  And he making little shooing motions toward the door.

  “Yes sir!” Simon replied, laughing, and he got up and left the room. Kronk pinched out the candles and followed him, looking decidedly pleased with himself.

  Chapter 21

  The next day dawned heavily, with puffy, gray clouds choking the sky. Simon looked up at them nervously as he hurried to the outhouse. They looked ominous.

  When he went back into the tower and asked, Aeris confirmed the worst.

  “Yes, a storm is approaching,” he said with a shrug. “But it is not anything violent, my dear wizard. I feel a lot of heaviness though, so I believe that there will be a significant accumulation of snow.”

  Simon sighed and nodded.

  “Oh the joys of winter,” he said as he made his tea. Aeris had toasted some bread and he spread blueberry jam on it and then sat down to eat.

  “Unfortunately, we have several more months of this before spring arrives,” the air elemental said as he floated over to the table. “At the risk of jinxing us, we have to assume that, during one of the upcoming storms, there will be an attack on the tower.”

  “Hopefully not until I'm back to my old self,” Simon muttered with his mouth full.

  “We can only hope. Personally, I think the winter is also a bit of a blessing.”

  The wizard looked at Aeris skeptically.

  “A blessing? How is this damned weather a blessing?”

  “The red dragons,” Aeris replied. “You've been back several days and, after that initial attack on you after your rebirth, we haven't seen a single dragon. And I think I know why.”

  “Oh? Do tell,” Simon said with a touch of sarcasm.

  “The weather, my dear wizard. Red dragons hate the cold. Yes, you were attacked by them a few years ago during the winter, but that was a scheme to steal your magic. Now that the tower is more fully protected and you are wearing your amulet against such an attack...”

  Simon reached up and felt the piece of crystallized dragon's blood that hung on a chain around his neck. He had found it hanging in his closet, but couldn't remember having left it there. Yet another mystery.

  “Now that you are protected from them that way,” Aeris continued. “I believe that the dragons will not bother you here, at least not until the spring.”

  “Oh, I wish we could be sure that was true,” Simon said with a touch of hope. “It would be one less thing to worry about.”

  “I think we can be fairly certain it is. The lady paladin has not reported any dragon sightings over Moscow, has she?”

  “Lately? I don't know. But that last time we spoke? No, she hadn't.”

  “Exactly. Red dragons hate winter and it would take more than the urging of the dark gods to make them endure it to get at you or other humans. Their leader is one of the oldest of the dragons and, legend has it, is incredibly arrogant. That primal even goes against the wishes if its queen, when it disagrees with her.”

  “Wow, really? I thought that all dragons were under her control.”

  “Under her command, yes. But control? No. She may pass along the dark gods' wishes, but the primal red dragon does not always follow orders. Or so it was said back in the old days.”

  “Now that is interesting,” Simon mused. “I wonder if we can use that somehow?”

  “Possibly. Arrogance is a weakness, after all.”

  “Yeah, well, I'll think about that later.”

  Simon got up, washed his utensils, made a second cup of tea and sat down again. He picked up the mirror and gave Aeris a worried look.

  “What if something's happened while I've been gone? They are so isolated in Moscow, especially in the wi
nter, and there are so few of them. What if...”

  “What if's solve nothing, my dear wizard,” the air elemental said firmly. “Call them and find out.”

  “Right. Right, okay. Good point.”

  Simon held up the mirror, rattled off the Magic Mirror spell and focused on his memory of Liliana's face the last time they had spoken.

  The reflective surface misted over quickly and, just as quickly, cleared up again.

  “Wow, that was fast,” Simon said under his breath as Aeris moved to hover next to his shoulder.

  He was looking into the mirror at a darkening sky. Liliana was standing on the roof of a tall, battered-looking building and gazing upward. For a moment Simon was afraid that she was watching an attacker, but although the sky was dotted with fast-moving clouds, there were no dragons in sight.

  The paladin simply seemed to be staring blankly into space, lost in her thoughts. The wizard was reluctant to interrupt her, but he had to find out how she and the others she watched over were doing.

  “Liliana? It's Simon. Can you hear me?”

  “Why do you always ask that?” Aeris whispered with some irritation. “It's as if you think everyone you call is deaf.”

  “Do me a favor and be quiet, would you?” Simon snapped back, keeping his voice down.

  Aeris looked offended but didn't reply.

  “Simon? Ah so, the fallen wizard returns as promised,” the paladin said in a hollow voice. She sounded both exhausted and depressed and the wizard noticed how pale and gaunt her features were.

  Reminds me a bit of myself at the moment, was his worried thought.

  “Returns? So you know what happened to me?”

  Liliana nodded and her lips quirked with the ghost of a smile.

  “My patron goddess visited me in a dream and told me. It is quite an honor, my friend, to be given a second chance at life.”

  “I know. I just hope I don't screw it up.”

  “Oh, I doubt that you will.”

  She sighed and looked down from her high perch at the wreckage-strewn street far below.

  Simon watched her anxiously. He'd never seen the woman look so...lost, and a feeling of anxiety pinched his stomach.

  “What's wrong?” he asked abruptly. “What has happened?”

  “Happened?” She laughed, an unpleasant, hard-edged sound. “Am I that easy to read?”

  “Maybe just to me. I don't know. But I've seen that look before, in the mirror, and it usually doesn't mean anything good.”

  The paladin's dirty blond hair was loose and flew around her head like an aura. She pushed it back impatiently with one hand while her other hand held tightly to the sword on her hip.

  “They're dead, Simon,” she said in a flat voice. “All of my people. Dead.”

  “My God! What happened? Dragon attack or...?”

  “No, nothing so easy to fight against.” She frowned up at the merciless sky. “You remember that there were five others with me? All of the survivors that I could find in and around Moscow?”

  “I do, yes.”

  “Well, Nina, a delightful young girl and a dear friend, was out searching for supplies about two weeks ago and had an accident. She fell through the rotted floor of an old food store and was killed on impact when she landed in the basement below.”

  “Oh damn. I'm so sorry, Liliana.”

  “Yes, well, so am I. It was a waste and a tragedy for all of us. But something about her death seemed to cause a, I don't know how to describe it, a ripple affect among the others. The winter has been especially hard, as you know, and food has been scarce, so their spirits were low to begin with. Nina's death seemed to exacerbate that mood. I told them about our plan to join your friends in Florida, at least for the winter, but not even that was enough to pull them out of this deep depression that had set in.”

  “What happened?” Simon asked, a feeling of dread making the entire conversation feel nightmarish, unreal.

  “That's the problem; I do not know for certain.”

  She ground her heel into the roof under her feet and the gritty, squeaking sound made the hair on the back of Simon's neck stand up.

  “I left them in our shelter a few days ago, to do a patrol and see if I could find any supplies that we might have overlooked. The shelter was a new one. We had begun moving once a section of the city was picked clean of food and this time we found what I thought was an amazing new home.”

  She smiled into the wind, remembering.

  “It was under a private home on the city's outskirts. Maybe it had been the residence of one of Moscow's elite. I don't know. But it was buried deep, had its own water supply and even a large tank of propane gas that was still full! Perhaps the stove it was attached to wasn't considered technological enough to not work in this new magical world of ours, but it functioned! Gave us heat and the ability to cook what little food we had.”

  Liliana shook her head now and closed her eyes against the bite of the winter air that swirled around her.

  “Unfortunately, none of us were technical people in our old lives. We assumed that the system was fine because it worked, you see?”

  “Yes.”

  “But either the gas leaked accidentally while I was gone, and I had left in the early evening when they had already bedded down for the night, or they deliberately opened the jets on the stove but, either way, by the time I'd returned...”

  “They were all dead,” Simon said as the paladin covered her eyes. “Oh my God, Liliana. What a horrible thing to happen. But surely it was an accident?”

  “That's what I've been telling myself for the past few days,” she replied in a voice drained of emotion. “I can't believe that four rational, young people would throw away their lives to despair like that. But, maybe they did. Maybe I failed them, failed to see just how black their moods had become. Who can say?”

  She wiped her eyes impatiently and glared up into the now dark sky.

  “But whether deliberate or not, they are all gone now. Moscow truly is dead. I've buried them and marked the graves and now, here I stand, speaking to the sky because there is no one else to talk to.”

  “You're wrong, my friend,” Simon said hurriedly. “There's me. And Clara and the rest of her people. They would welcome you and, God knows, they could use your strength and your skills as they rebuild their lives.”

  Liliana smiled, a ghost of amusement moving across her face.

  “I'm not so sure of that. Misery seems to follow in my wake, sir wizard. I wouldn't want to bring that sort of bad luck to their new settlement.”

  “Nonsense,” he said harshly. “You've done as much as anyone could, given your situation. What's happened is tragic, yes, but all the more reason for you to have a new start, use your powers for the good of others, as you always have. They do need you, Liliana. Trust me, they do.”

  “Do they?” she said quietly, as if to herself. “Well then, if that is truly the case, then I will join them, if they will have me. When can I leave this city of sorrow?”

  “Soon, my friend. I'm not strong enough yet to Gate there and then take you to join the others. It may take me a week or so to rebuild my strength so that I can. Are you able to hold out that long, alone?”

  “A week? Of course I can. After all, I am still, in my heart, a Russian woman. We are strong because we've had to be. I will wait for you to be ready, Simon. Do not push yourself on my account. Get strong and fit and call me when you are. I will be waiting.”

  “Thank you, Liliana,” the wizard told her sincerely. “Again, I'm so sorry for your loss. But take your own advice and rest and regain your strength too. Your new job will bring its own set of challenges.”

  She raised her head proudly, staring into the darkness.

  “I look forward to it,” she said with new spirit. “Thank you as well, my friend.”

  “Any time. We'll talk soon.”

  And with that, Simon canceled the spell and put down the mirror. His hand was shaking and he looked at it
in surprise.

  “Why am I shaking?” he asked Aeris, who'd listened to the conversation without comment.

  “It's a mixture of fatigue and shock from what the paladin told you, I think,” he said calmly. “Finish your tea and try to relax. Now you have even more reasons to get strong and well again, so take your time and focus on that.”

  The following morning saw the heavy snow arrive in earnest and Simon had to slog though knee-deep drifts to get to the outhouse. Visibility was practically non-existent and he followed his own footsteps to get back to the door of the tower.

  “Well, that's just lovely,” he said to Kronk and Aeris as he stomped in, scattering snow everywhere. “How long is this supposed to last?”

  Aeris was carrying the kettle from the fireplace to the counter and poured water into the wizard's cup before answering.

  “Two days, perhaps three,” he said offhandedly. “But the worst of it will fall today, I believe, and the rest of it will only amount to flurries.”

  “Well,” Simon said as he pulled off his books and left them on the mat next to the door. “That's something, I suppose. Have I mentioned lately...”

  “How much you hate the winter?” Both elementals replied in unison and the wizard burst out laughing.

  “I'll take that as a yes. Okay, okay. It's not like I can do anything about it anyway, right?”

  “No master, you cannot. Once upon time, there were mages who could affect the weather, but they were rare indeed.”

  Simon hung up his coat and crossed the room to sit at the kitchen table. He looked at the earthen quizzically.

  “Really? There were actually magic-users who could control weather?”

  The little guy was carefully putting another log on the fire and Simon watched, fascinated as always, as Kronk stood in the center of the blaze to adjust the log to his own satisfaction.