Dragon Slayer 4

by Michael-Scott Earle

  With a panther-like bound, Rizzala set off at a gallop down the hill toward the city of Whitespire. She was fast, running easily fifty or sixty miles an hour at top speed, but her stubby wings weren’t made for flying. Riding on her back felt like trying to stay in the saddle of an impossibly fast horse, but only her spiky horns to cling to instead of a saddle or stirrups. Thankfully, I’d had enough experience riding her the previous night that I could stay on without too much difficulty.

  I couldn’t deny how awesome it felt to hurtle through the medieval-looking city of Whitespire at motorcycle speeds. The houses, people, and horse-drawn vehicles were a blur as Rizzala bounded along the main avenue that descended toward the city gate.

  All around us, Whitespire had begun to come back to life. Women and children had emerged from hiding and were now playing in the streets, shopping at the few merchants stalls that still had merchandise, or working beside their men to repair the damage done to the city. The menfolk that hadn’t joined in the battle were tasked with restoring Whitespire to its former glory.

  I didn’t know how many casualties we’d sustained in the battle, but Zaddrith and Curym’s armies had taken their toll on the White Guards and untrained recruits that had protected the wall. Even after General Daxos had brought a company of Windwall Blackguards as reinforcements, we’d still taken losses. That was the price of battle. We’d defended our home, but not everyone had survived.

  Closer to the city wall, Whitespire looked more like a battleground than a civilized city. Surgeons and healers worked on wounded soldiers, and the cries of pain filled the air. The stone streets and brick houses looked like pincushions, riddled with nagia arrows and murloc spikes. The sound of hammering, sawing, and chiseling echoed loud in the morning as the reconstruction of Whitespire began.

  My heart leapt as Rizzala slowed in front of the command tent, and I caught sight of my friends. Sir Galfred the Bold, red-haired knight of Whitespire, looked exhausted and in pain from his not-yet-healed wound, yet he stood tall and strong as he organized the unwounded White Guards and recruits. Adath, my black-bearded Grey Hunter friend, hadn’t slept more than a few hours since the battle began, but somehow he summoned enough energy to shout orders to the builders leading the rebuilding efforts. Grendis, the leader of the archer company, sat sleeping in a camp chair, a forgotten loaf of bread half-way in his gaping mouth.

  “Adath,” I called out as I climbed of Rizzala’s back, “how are things going?”

  Adath turned and grinned at his dark eyes fell on me. “Could be worse. We’re short a few hands, but the people of Whitespire are a resilient and industrious lot. The city should be running smoothly in a few days, and life should return to something like normal within a month or so.”

  “Normal, minus the fact that we’ve got Blackguards fighting beside us,” Sir Galfred said. He shot me a friendly nod and came to stand beside Adath. “Fighting for us, at the moment.”

  “Oh?” I cocked an eyebrow. I looked around and saw no sign of General Daxos, my friend and commander of Windwall’s soldiers. “Where are the Blackguards?”

  “The General mounted up and rode out ten minutes after you left,” Adath told me. “Said he was going to pursue Zaddrith’s minions to the border of Elloriel just to make sure the land is safe.”

  “Took my best archers,” Grendis grumbled from his seat. Perhaps he hadn’t been sleeping after all. “Left me with a bunch of green recruits that can barely string a bow.”

  “To be fair,” Adath retorted, “your archers were some of the best hunters and trackers in Whitespire. Unlike their commanding officer, they wanted to do something to help, something that didn’t involve sleeping and eating.”

  “Officer’s prerogative.” Grendis shot Adath a wicked grin. “Rank and file do the hard work, while we leaders handle the business of organizing everything.”

  “Only thing you seem to be organizing is an army of ants.” Adath pointed to the abundance of crumbs around Grendis’ chair, then turned to the red-haired knight. “Might be time to put him to work, don’t you think, Galfred?”

  “Aye, I’d say you’re right.” Sir Galfred’s expression was somber, but I could see a hint of humor tugging at the corners of his mouth. “A man of your superior organizational talents should be the perfect candidate for organizing the removal and disposal of the enemy corpses.”

  Grendis gave Adath one of his trademark scowls as he climbed to his feet. “Yes, sir.” He bumped Adath’s shoulder as he strode past his bald, bearded Grey Hunter comrade. “Give a man a title,” he muttered, “all of a sudden he thinks he’s the Goddesses’ own mouthpiece. Jumped-up, scant-haired, cross-eyed--” His voice trailed off as he strode toward the city gate and out of earshot.

  Adath chuckled. “That ought to keep him out of trouble for a few hours.”

  “You know he’s going to find a way to repay you for that, right?” Sir Galfred asked.

  “Nah.” Adath gave a dismissive wave. “Not once I give him the one bottle of Kingswine that survived the battle.”

  “There’s one left?” My eyebrows rose at that. We’d used the bottles of potent liquor as improvised Molotov cocktails, and they’d worked wonders to repel the murlocs.

  Adath grinned. “I saw a twenty-year old vintage and thought to myself, ‘No way I can waste this on the frog bastards. Dragonrider’ll sort things out, and I’ll need this bottle for something after.’ Seems my instincts were right after all.”

  “Seems like,” I said with a laugh. “So you two will be leading to reconstruction efforts?”

  “I’ll be taking over that,” Sir Galfred said, then rested a hand on Adath’s shoulder. “He’ll be riding out with a company of White Guards to lend General Daxos a hand cleaning up Elloriel.” He turned a stern gaze on the bald Grey Hunter. “After a few hours of sleep, of course.”

  Adath shrugged off that last comment. “We’ll make sure all the frogs are out of our land, though it’ll take a few days of sweeping to be sure.” He shot me a curious look. “And what about you? Where’s the mighty Dragonrider off to next?”

  “Curym,” I told my two friends. “We’re going to put an end to her threat and claim her magical power. We’re going to need it, you see.”

  I explained about the magical door beneath the palace, and my conclusion that all eight magical powers would be required to open it.

  “Key to ultimate power,” Sir Galfred mused. “That sounds like a dangerous sort of magic, one we’d be better off leaving alone. Opening that door could be a bad idea.”

  “You ever heard the expression ‘better the devil you know’?” I asked. “I think we’d be better off knowing what sort of ultimate power it is. That way, if it’s dangerous, we can take steps to ensure no one else gets their hands on it.” I gestured to Letharia. “Zaddrith and Curym were willing to march across Iriador to claim it for themselves, clearly it’s something that others know about. I’ll rest easier once I know what I’m dealing with.”

  “I’m of a mind with Ethan,” Adath put in with a nod. “Easier to face a foe than wonder if he’s waiting for you.”

  Sir Galfred looked unconvinced, but he only shrugged. “I trust you know what you’re doing, Ethan. Goddesses go with you.”

  “You, too,” I said as I gave the knight a big hug, careful not to squeeze his injured ribs too tight. Adath got a hug as well, one he returned with ferocity.

  “Watch your back, Ethan,” he told me. “And take care of those women. Goddesses know when we’ll need them again.” He turned to Rizzala with a grin and an outstretched hand. “When you get back, I’d be honored to share a pint with you. Provided the Brewmasters’ Guild doesn’t run out in the next few days. Winning is thirsty work.”

  She clasped his hand. “Maybe keep that Kingswine hidden for when I return. Much better than whatever swill Grendis likes to drink.”

  Adath chuckled and nodded. “Will do.”

  At that moment, a huge shadow swooped by overhead. I looked up as I felt the fam
iliar surge of fire magic approaching, and my eyes found the massive red form of Irenya, my fire dragon, flying toward us. Instead of descending to land beside the command tent, however, she flew past and headed for the city gate.

  “Goddesses guide you on your way, Ethan!” Sir Galfred called as I turned back to Rizzala.

  “And you!” I shouted back.

  I clambered onto Rizzala’s back, and the black panther-like dragon bounded off toward the spot where Irenya had landed. She crossed the four blocks to the city gate in less than ten seconds, just in time for us to see Irenya’s huge red body landing on the cobblestone streets of the main avenue.

  Irenya landed in an almost protective crouch, her body a shield to cover the white dragon lying on the ground. Arieste had sustained a severe wound in battle the previous day, and only Irenya’s fire magic had stopped Zaddrith’s acid from doing serious damage to her rear leg and tail. However, Arieste was still weak, and Irenya had said she’d need at least a few days to heal.

  My gut clenched as my eyes fell on Arieste. She lay with her eyes closed, and her huge dragon chest rose and fell in the steady rhythm of sleep. Arieste was the first of my dragon woman, and we’d grown close in the last few weeks. I had felt a moment of very real fear that I would lose her. Seeing the once-mighty dragon so weak left me uneasy.

  I climbed off Rizzala’s back and went over to Arieste. “How is she?” I asked Irenya.

  “Resting,” the red dragon rumbled in as quiet a voice as she could manage. “She will require time to recover.”

  “Would she heal faster in her human form?” I asked.

  “No.” Irenya’s big dragon head shook. “The magic that created us will sustain and repair her form far faster.”

  I sighed as I rested a hand on the red dragon’s neck. Less than a week ago, the two had been mortal enemies. They had become friendly during our adventures through Windwall and Ironfast, and bonded as friends through the battle for Whitespire. They’d even begun to use their powers as a team, which made them all the more deadly and effective. Thanks to them working together, we’d had a fighting chance.

  It felt good to see Irenya’s concern for Arieste. According to her, dragons didn’t have friends, only allies and enemies. Yet Irenya and Arieste were both growing more human, which meant the human emotions that came with the human bodies. Emotions like friendship, love, and a desire to belong. The more time they spent together, the closer they’d become.

  “And wouldn’t you like that?” Nyvea purred. She filled my head with images of Ariesta and Irenya’s lithe bodies entwined, with me sandwiched nicely in the middle. “Things could get quite friendly, indeed.”

  I smiled, and at that moment Arieste’s heavy dragon eyelids opened. Her pale blue eyes peered up into mine and her lips stretched back in the dragon equivalent of a smile. “Ethan,” she rumbled.

  “How do you feel?” I asked.

  “Tired. Pained. But getting better, thanks to you.” Her eyes went to Irenya, who hovered protectively over her. “And you. Your fire magic, I felt it. How?”

  “Ethan’s doing,” Irenya replied. “He fed the fire through the gemstone.”

  “Of course!” I slapped a hand to my forehead. “Why didn’t I think of this sooner?”

  Confusion filled the eyes of the white and red dragons as I turned to Rizzala. “I need your magic back, Rizzala. I think…” I drew in a deep, excited breath. “I think I can use your magic to heal Arieste.”

  Chapter Two

  “Are you certain?” Rizzala asked, and her panther-like dragon face creased into a frown. “She is a dragon of ice, not of darkness. She has never used the magic before.”

  “I know, but I’m pretty sure it will work,” I told her. “When she was first injured, I used Irenya’s fire magic to heal her.”

  Rizzala and Letharia both looked surprised. “You did?” the dark-haired woman sitting on the black dragon’s back asked. “How?”

  “The gemstone.” I pointed to the black gemstone set into Rizzala’s neck. “They’re like conduits that the magic flows through. But it’s not just the magic that turns you into dragons. I think the gemstones can work with more than one type of magic. It worked with Irenya’s fire, so I want to try it with your camouflage magic.”

  “It’s worth a try,” Rizzala finished with a nod of her massive head. “I understand.”

  I offered Letharia a hand to dismount, then reached for the gemstone set into Rizzala’s neck. The black dragon gave a little rumbling snort as I touched the stone and drew the magic from within her. Slowly, her body changed from the panther-like dragon with thick, solid limbs, stubby wings, and a collar of spikes around her neck to the fierce, athletic warrior woman. I clenched my teeth as I felt the energetic magic shifting inside of me, and it seemed to fight with the acidic magic I’d taken from Letharia. I let out a breath as the power finally settled down the magic seemed to find balance within me.

  Rizzala straightened, unashamed despite the gauzy fabric that barely hid her strong, beautiful form. “I would like to see this for myself,” she told me.

  “Me, too,” I said with a grin.

  “You’ve got this, hero,” Nyvea whispered in my mind as I walked back to Arieste. “You made it work once before. Focus and you’ll get it.”

  I drew in a deep breath as I placed my hand against the gemstone in Arieste’s forehead and tapped into the darkness magic. Trying to control the energetic, shifting power felt like trying to grab fog, but I had grown accustomed to the strange sensation of the changing magic. With effort, I willed it to heed my commands and pushed it toward the white gemstone.

  Immediately, I felt resistance, and the stone seemed to recoil from the touch of the magic. The solid, slow-moving ice magic was like a barrier that the sprightly darkness magic sought to pass through. Yet the resistance wasn’t as strong as when I’d done this with Irenya’s fire magic the previous day. Again, I felt the audible snap in my mind as the white gemstone yielded to the force of my will, and the camouflage magic poured into Arieste’s body.

  The effects were immediate and startling. I heard gasps all around as Arieste’s icy white scales began to change color, the same way Rizzala’s did when the magic was hiding her. Arieste’s scales shifted to the grey of the cobblestone streets beneath her, then to a reddish brown that matched the blood-stained mud on the streets. Her huge dragon body twitched once, but this time there was no rumble of pain from her throat.

  Through my magical senses, I could feel the darkness magic slipping between the cracks in the ice power that made up Arieste’s body. The magic sought to change, to restore, and the moment it reached the wound in her hind leg, the very cells of her dragon body began to shift. The scales around her wound shifted between all the colors of the spectrum in the space of a heartbeat. My eyes flew wide as the puncture wounds left by Zaddrith’s teeth began to slowly close, one cell at a time.

  When I’d healed Arieste, I’d only had the little bit of fire magic I retained after transforming Irenya into her dragon body. With all of Rizzala’s magic, I had more than enough to keep up a steady stream of power as her wound healed. My heart hammered a furious beat as I poured as much magic as I could summon into her body. Slowly, I watched the puncture wound shrink until it closed, and only unblemished scales remained.

  I let out a gasp as the magic ran out, and I felt my energy draining with it. I had to hold onto Arieste’s forehead to avoid sagging to one knee. Nyvea had cautioned me against overusing my power, and that was as close as I’d come to burning out. After a moment to catch my breath, I reached for the darkness magic that infused Arieste’s body and pulled it out of her, one shadowy fabric of power at a time. The color-changing slowed as I drew out the magic, then her scales brightened to an icy white as I reclaimed it all.

  “How do you feel now?” I asked Arieste.

  “Wonderful!” The white dragon lifted her head and rose to her feet with her usual agility. “The pain…it’s gone.”

  “Can
you move your leg?” I asked.

  For an answer, she leapt high into the air, flapped her wings, and circled once high overhead before coming to land on the street beside us.

  “That was amazing!” Letharia breathed. “How did you know to do that? Did you read it in a book somewhere?”

  “No. It just came to me, like a whisper in my mind,” I said. Nyvea got the credit for that ingenuity, but no one else knew about the voice in the amulet. “I figured that the gemstones might be able to channel more than one type of magic. Call it a lucky gamble that paid off.”

  “And will that work for each of us?” Irenya asked. “Can you pass more of these abilities into our bodies through the gemstones?”

  “Let’s give it a try.” I reached up to touch the gemstone in her chest, and tried to infuse the darkness magic through it into her body. Where Arieste’s gemstone had been a solid ice-like barrier, Irenya’s gemstone raged like a fiery inferno that burned away any magic I poured into it. The red dragon let out a low rumble of pain, but I gritted my teeth and kept pushing in an attempt to force the darkness magic through the stone. It took far more effort than with Arieste, but I managed to infuse her with enough that the scales around her neck began to shift color.

  “It’s working!” Letharia cried out behind me.

  Irenya’s scales faded to their normal red as I pulled back on the darkness magic, but I tried again with the acid magic I’d taken from Zaddrith. This time, Irenya actually let out a loud hiss and darted backward.

  “Not that one!” she growled. “I do not like the way it feels.”

  I turned to Rizzala. “Want to give it a try?”

  The dark-skinned woman hesitated, but nodded. “I would know what it feels to wield fire.”

  “You got it.” I stepped toward her and touched the gemstone to her neck as I summoned the fire magic. The black stone flared a blazing red, then I felt it grow scorching hot in my hand. Rizzala drew in a sharp breath and stepped back to break the contact.