by H. A. Harvey
The little sprite flitted up in front of his face and zipped off a few yards ahead of him. Following the fairy’s light, Nian found himself staring up the outer wall of the basin. At this end of the valley, the sheer cliffs seemed to give way to more gradual, broken slopes. Eventually, they turned into a line of low hills of jagged rock, with a small span of level ground leading Clock-Spireward. It wasn’t long before Nian made out that the sprite seemed to be floating in front of a shadow. At the foot of the closest point along the rocky slope, a large cave looked to have been dug out of the solid stone. Nian gave Gatefyre’s ribs a gentle bump with his heels and the horse obediently sprang forward in a brisk trot.
Nian alternated between watching the cave and the sky as the ember stallion steadily carried him over the ominous landscape. Gatefyre seemed bright and alert, almost cheery, despite the foul odor. It occurred to Nian that the last few days of aimlessly wandering the tranquil woodlands and grazing on soft grass and wild grains might have been most horse’s idea of heaven, but perhaps not to one like Gatefyre. Specialist horses tended to be proud, even more so than their masters often were. The stallion probably felt it had been wasting time and getting fat, and Nian knew he didn’t like slogging through the marshlands. Having a rider again, especially bearing him through a place where the very air smelled of danger probably made Gatefyre feel useful again. For the first time in over a week, he had a purpose.
Nian found the horse’s attitude contagious, and before long he found himself whistling little bits he remembered of the Dwarven ballad he’d caught the end of two nights before. Nian’s musical talent was about as shoddy as his knowledge of court protocols, but he knew what he meant, and the only souls around to criticize were the horse and the sprite. They would just have to put up with him.
The creatures did not have to endure too long. As the cave drew nearer, Nian felt the need to quiet his whistling. He paused to drink a bit of water, then shared a handful with Gatefyre, guessing the horse’s mouth must be getting as dry as his own. Once he remounted, Nian drew his sword and covered the last few hundred yards to the cave at a slow walk, keeping his eyes glued to the entrance.
At the base of the slope leading to the cave, Nian dismounted and draped Gatefyre’s reins over a gnarled bit of charred stump. The stallion didn’t seem to have any arguments. Skittering up a steep slope of loose stone and climbing into a tight space with a dragon was hardly in a horse’s job description. Nian shifted his blade over to his shield arm and climbed as quietly as he could manage. He found himself eternally grateful to the queen for replacing his hard boots with silent moccasins, though thinking about it made him wonder if the queen had planned on roping him into sneaking into this cave all along.
As he approached the mouth of the cave, Nian decided to leave such issues a mystery for now and focus on paying attention and moving quietly. His one real hope of pulling this off was to come on the beast while it slept and hope his relic blade could pierce the thing’s brain. It wasn’t very sporting, and no one would likely write any songs about it, but the task would be done. There didn’t need to be any songs about Nian the Dragon-slayer, as long as there weren’t cautionary tales about Nian the dragon snack. When he finally eased his head over the rim of the cave’s mouth, his heart fell. The cave did not have a dragon inside, awake or asleep.
What he did find was that the stories of dragons, or drakes, keeping hordes were true. Well at least they were somewhat true. He was rather surprised at first to find very few bones of any sort, but he supposed that made sense. The beast likely crunched up most of his meals whole. If steel wasn’t a match for the thing’s scales, he doubted bones bothered its teeth much. However, there was a great collection at the back of the cave, but hardly a sea of gold and gems.
The creature’s horde looked to be little more than a conical mound of scrap metal. Nian noted with some dismay that a good portion of the pile seemed to be suits of mail or plate, sheered open by claw marks. The sight was disturbingly reminiscent of the lake shore at home when he and Rowan had one of their crawfish extravaganzas. Nian silently vowed to give up eating shellfish in the future.
Nian looked back outside toward the forest. The day was already wearing into late afternoon, and he had no desire to be caught by the dragon in the dark. Everything else in Creation seemed to see better in the dark than Humans, and Nian was fairly sure dragons wouldn’t be an exception. He sheathed his sword and started to head back toward the exit, but the sprite suddenly zipped into his nose so hard he thought for a second she might have squashed herself. The little fairy zipped wildly in front of his face before darting to the refuse pile, warbling like a drunken songbird.
Nian turned back and followed the sprite, carefully picking his way up the mound of corroded iron, steel, and tin, scattered copper and silver coins of varying ages. Reaching the top of the mound, about the height of two men off the cavern floor, Nian found that it was a ring, like a nest more than a mound. Inside the basin, at the heart of the pile, lay a great blue-green oval object that Nian first thought was a polished stone not unlike turquoise but slightly more blue in color, or even an impossibly large pearl. The stone sat upon a bed lining composed mostly of gold coins, statues, and jewelry, with a peppered mix of mythril, gem stones, and discarded blue-green scales, some as broad and long as his face. Had it not been for the uncanny matching hue between the stone and the scales, it might have taken Nian all of two heartbeats to realize he was looking at the beast’s egg.
As he stared at the egg, a thought occurred to Nian. He didn’t need to kill the beast to fulfill the queen’s geas. If he took the egg out of the valley, it . . . she was sure to follow. The only problem is where would he go to be sure the beast didn’t come back? Nian tried to think back to Kolel’s map. He hadn’t paid any attention to much beyond the Wheelward edge of Broadstone. The Avan Empire was somewhere Gateward, and the beast was likely no match for the will of their divine ruler . . . but he might not appreciate Nian dragging the thing there in the first place. Also, he wasn’t sure how many days’ travel that would take. Once the dragon got back and found her child missing, he was pretty sure she’d come fast.
Suddenly, Nian grinned. It all worked so well. The Brogan Vale bordered on the city-state of Kadisvale! He would drag the wrathful mother there, and escape with Karen while the locals worked out whether their mountain home was mortal or dragon territory now. The few hours before the dragon was likely to return from hunting should be enough of a lead for him to get there on Gatefyre . . . at least he hoped so, not really knowing how fast a dragon can fly or how hard he could push the ember stallion. Nian hopped down onto the golden bed and scooped the egg up to nestle in the crook of his left arm between shield and chest. No sooner had he stood upright than a distant, but still powerfully loud, bestial roar drifted from outside.
“That’s not fair!” Nian complained aloud to no one in particular.
Nian scrambled to the top of the nest where not one, but two images each signaled that his plan was going horribly awry. Out over the canopy of the woodland, he saw a massive eruption of leaves around a glistening core of blue-green that spread its wings to beat the air and climb rapidly as it closed on the cave. Much closer, at the entrance of the cave, stood the slender form of the last person he wanted to see at the moment. Autumn hurled Nian’s bundled cloak into his face.
“You just left?” She screeched. “I tell you that you’re the only thing keeping me sane. You tell me you love me. Then you just slip off in the night?”
Nian leapt down to the cave floor and hurried past Autumn, “I know, and I do love you, but you can’t be here right now Autumn. I have to go, now, and so do you, in the opposite direction as fast as you can go.”
“No chance!” Autumn replied vehemently, “I’m going with you, and there’s nothing--“
“You’re going to die, Autumn!” Nian whirled on her, “The fairy queen told me that you are fated to die, soon
. I’m trying to stop that because I can’t live without you. Now please go away!”
Nian turned and scuttled down the slope as fast as he could manage. He clambered up onto Gatefyre’s back, pausing to look back up the hill. Autumn stood looking at him from the same spot she’d stood since he first spied her. He shouted for her to run again and kicked the stallion hard into a gallop, reining toward the gap in the hills.
As they dashed onward, Nian wondered if Gatefyre would lose his nerve against a dragon. Ember horses were known for their fearlessness, but Rowan had said that the stallion had bolted when the dragon attacked in the forest. He soon enough had the opportunity to learn an answer as the enormous beast soared over the blasted plain at a diagonal to his own course. She sailed in to smash into the earth a hundred yards in front of Nian, sending a cloud of ash and dirt into the sky that made dusk seem to fall early and instantly. The beast turned to face the approaching rider and unleashed another roar of challenge and rage.
The dragon rushed forward, folding its wings along its side following a horizontal push to launch it forward with impossible speed. Nian set his jaw, drew his blade, and prepared to do something really, really stupid. He gave Gatefyre an urging kick in case there was any speed the beast was not already providing and leaned forward, low in the saddle.
Nian guessed the beast wouldn’t risk a blast of fire with her egg in the path. The sword seemed to pick up on his train of thought and added a vision of the dragon striking low. Of course, she would go for the horse with her first strike, hoping to avoid accidentally striking the egg with the added power of her charge.
As the creature swept low, the sword urged him to strike at the throat. Nian, however, was not prepared to sacrifice Kolel’s faithful mount so quickly. He reined slightly to the left and signaled a jump. Gatefyre gave a mighty diagonal leap, clearing the beast’s massive jaws by more than five feet as they soared over the scaled neck. Nian brought his blade down with all his might as the ember stallion’s fore-hooves kissed earth, whipping the blade down even faster. The point and six inches of the blade caught on the drake’s shoulder. Drake scale definitely gave more resistance to the Relic Blade than Baedic chainmail. The back-force on the blow nearly wrenched his shoulder out of joint, but the magic blade bit deep into the dragon’s shoulder and forearm. Nian ventured a triumphant glance back over his shoulder as the dragon coiled and craned its serpentine neck back to snap at where he had been a moment before, stumbling to stop its charge as it did so.
Shield!
Nian whirled back to face the front at the sword’s urging, lifting his shield arm as best he could without dropping its added burden. Gatefyre dipped his head and swerved out away from the dragon, but the horse’s efforts came too late to spare his rider. The dragon’s tail, adorned with wickedly long, sharp scales slammed into Nian’s shield with the force of a crashing wave. Had his arm alone tried to resist the blow, it might have snapped and let the shield finish the tail’s intended work. The egg’s presence was an unexpected boon, and kept Nian’s bicep from buckling. Instead, the force of the blow tore Nian from the saddle to bounce against the dragon’s side and crash to the earth with egg and blade flying free of their own accord.
Nian forced himself to his feet and tumbled in whatever direction forward was, certain he didn’t have time to right his senses. His instincts proved correct as a deadly rear claw raked the earth behind him so narrowly that he’d have lost his cloak or been dragged back had he still worn it. The brush with death sent a surge of clarity through him. Nian finished the roll to his feet and cast about. The egg tumbled along down a nearby slope, coming to rest among some rocks. If not as hard as its mother’s scales, the egg was definitely more resilient than any other he had seen. The relic blade had driven itself point-first into the ground a few strides away, but the dragon’s powerful limbs crashed down on either side of the trusty sword.
The beast had already wheeled to face him, devilishly fast for its enormous size despite its wounded limb. She arched back her neck and Nian watched it begin to tremble. Guessing what was coming next, Nian started to raise his shield, though it was nowhere near large enough to shield his entire body. The next instant, a spark darted between him and the dragon, blasting a needle-thin beam of brilliant green light up at the beast’s face, striking her in the right nostril. The beast gagged and recoiled suddenly as thorny roses sprouted from its nose, the sprite emitting a mocking warble as she zipped triumphantly around the beast’s coiling neck.
Nian dashed forward and scooped up the relic blade. He spun on his forward foot with the momentum of the stop, bringing the blade around in a wide arc and slicing open a gash in the dragon’s left breast deep enough to expose a rib bone. The beast coughed out the fairy flowers as it stumbled backward in agony. She shot a leathery wing out that slammed into Nian unexpectedly as he pressed forward to capitalize on his success. The scaled back of the dragon’s wing struck Nian hard enough to again take him off his feet and send him spinning through the air, but the elasticity of the wing failed to daze him this time, and he kept hold of the sword.
Nian rolled to a stop as the dragon righted itself. His sprite guide danced merrily between them, still mocking the great beast. The dragon roared in outrage and the force of her shout sent ash whirling about and stones bouncing away from her.
Defend!
A vision of shield and sword crossed flashed in front of his eyes, and Nian brought his arms up to mimic the image as a wave of fire filled the air between the dragon and himself. A hemisphere of translucent blue light leapt from the surface of Nian’s shield just as the dragon fire was about to wash over him. The flame deflected up and over him harmlessly, though he felt an impact that slid his feet back several inches. The dragon roared again and unleashed a second, then a third wave of flame.
Nian couldn’t explain how, but he felt the blade beginning to weaken under the relentless assault, and the shield began to grow unpleasantly hot by the end of the third blast. Each blast also carried bone-jarring force, and he’d sunk to his knees under the cascade of the dragon’s wrath. The fourth blast struck and the sphere before him started to break down. Tongues of flame licked through, searing his left shoulder and singing his shaggy hair. Suddenly, Nian heard a short, croaking groan and the fourth wave cut short. He looked up from behind the shield to see the creature writhing and clawing at a tiny bit of leaf-green fletching protruding from her throat. A second arrow followed the first and found home in the beast’s left collarbone. The shot may have been headed for her heart, but the dragon’s contortions spared her if it had.
“Dragon fire is music right?” Autumn’s wooden voice called from a hill to Nian’s right, “Try singing with a thorn in your throat you stinking worm!”
Nian dashed for the dragon, dropping the searing shield to take his sword in both hands. “Autumn, get out of here!”
Autumn paused as she drew another mythril arrow from her quiver, “If it’s Fate, the last thing I do is not going to be leaving you.”
The dragon sprang into the air even as Nian drew near enough for a strike and he barely managed a shallow slice along her clawed foot. She spread her wings and dove at Autumn’s hilltop in blind rage. The Dryad let her bow fall and leapt at the last moment, tumbling up the creature’s snout and coming to rest on her knees atop the creature’s skull above the beast’s left eye. She grasped the arrow just behind the head and drug it across the dragon’s glaring orb.
Autumn was flung high into the air as the creature snapped its head back in pain. The dragon leapt into the air to follow the little Dryad. The beast snapped at Autumn’s flailing form, but lacking vision in one eye threw the dragon’s aim off. Autumn braced off the dragon’s neck to steady her fall and landed on the creature’s broad shoulders. The dragon whipped into a spiral to shake the Dryad free, but Autumn dug her arrow into the thick armor on the dragon’s back and drove Amalthea’s long fighting dagger into the open wou
nd on the creature’s shoulder.
Nian watched as the dragon climbed steadily, jerking in sharp turns and rolling frequently in an effort to dislodge her tenacious assailant. Autumn capitalized upon her compact size and uncanny balance, shifting positions on the dragon’s back every time the beast tried to steady itself in the air. On rougher turns, Autumn dug into the dragon’s hide, making new holes with her mythril arrowhead and using the steel dagger to bite deeper through the arrow slits and act as her anchor.
The oddly matched grapple climbed high enough that it became impossible to see much detail. Autumn worked her way down the dragon’s back to the false shoulders that sprouted her wings. The dragon let out a hoarse cry as it faltered in the air, then suddenly changed tactics and craned its neck back to snap at her little tormentor. The dragon’s vision and rage again worked against her, and her mighty jaws closed upon the forward bone of her own wing as Autumn rolled out onto the back of the wing in momentary escape. As the beast recoiled in pain, her bladed crown swept the Dryad off the creature’s wing with a spray of bright red dancing in the golden light of dusk.
The aerial fight had drifted back over the woodland, and Autumn dropped like a stone toward the canopy below. The dragon gave two feeble flaps before her injured wing snapped and she plummeted after the Dryad. Seeming to give up on flight, the dragon used her fit wing as a rudder, guiding her fall after Autumn’s own descent. Autumn vanished into the bog’s canopy just ahead of the dragon, who drove into the greenery like a spear. A geyser of muck and leaves erupted from the impact, and the ground shook like a beaten drum.
Nian staggered to a stop in his pursuit of the chase. His heart stopped with the resounding finality of the crash. The strength left his legs and he sank shakily to his knees. As he sat on his haunches, letting the ashen wind blow away pieces of his soul, the woods echoed again with a crackling. It wasn’t long before the trees beyond the hedge shook and the dragon came tearing through the wild tangle of the briars. Her crown was more than half broken, and it looked like her fall had driven several of the shards of her own bladed armor into her back and side. Mud, chunks of timber, and tangled ropes of bramble vine clung to her from head to foot. Her broken wing drug limply behind her as she cast about with her one good eye until it fell on Nian.