Peril & Profit

by M. H. Johnson

  Sorn took satisfaction in this, never being one to make his dinner suffer needlessly. Nature had its savage rules regarding predator and prey, but he took it as a matter of pride that his kind were intelligent enough to comprehend their actions, and so could use their abilities to grant mercy where, in a simpler creature such as a hyena, none would be granted at all.

  For as sad a spectacle as Chestnut or another horse-lover might find it to see one of those fine mares shudder and gently collapse, it was infinitely more merciful than the agonized death of being disemboweled and eaten alive by a pack of jackals or the like. And such occurred by the thousandfold every day, in wildlands too countless to number.

  Most of his own kind, in fact, enjoyed enacting the hunt to the fullest, pouncing upon their freed livestock released for their pleasure, snapping it up still alive and squealing in a number of tremendous gulps. Often, like a cat, his people liked to play with their prey. Sorn's cousins hardly gave hunting the deep ethical consideration that he did, knowing only that Sorn was what was considered a merciful hunter, who taught his cousins to do the same.

  "Boy, Sorn," Fitz said, shaking his head wryly. "You sure treated those horses with a lot more compassion than you did Vorstice's men."

  "As is only fitting," Sorn said with a grim smile of his own. "Whereas the horses are innocent creatures, guilty of nothing other than being necessary food, the Empire’s soldiers are our enemies. As you know, it is our duty to bring to our foes the very pain and despair they would seek to inflict upon our own tribe. Besides being justice, it also serves as a deterrent. Were we to extend mercy to them, it would only encourage our foes to become more brazen. Our enemies would feel, if anything, at even greater liberty to threaten those we care for, knowing we lack the gumption to even make them pay for their crimes. It is at that moment that the mercy we evolved to have to strengthen our own clan's bonds of affection would suddenly become our downfall. For in extending mercy to those who would kill us, we only ensure our own destruction."

  Sorn's eyes flashed, fierce in his sudden resolve. "On this subject, at least, you will find me the most ardent supporter of our clan's most rigid elders. Death to our enemies! May they suffer, may they burn!"

  His cousins nodded dutifully.

  "You do the elders proud, Sorn," Lieberman dutifully declared, his brothers nodding their emphatic agreement.

  "Yes, Sorn, you sound just like Mother when she says the time for conquest is at hand!" Fitz assured.

  Sorn swallowed, not quite sure how he felt about that, before focusing once more on a far more tantalizing topic. "Well, kin? Shall we dig in?"

  His bright-eyed cousins nodded enthusiastically, the three shifting and rippling their forms in a sight that would have sent an already edgy populous into full fledged screaming panic had they but seen it, Sorn was sure. Within moments, three impressive looking young dragons appeared where Fitz and his brothers had stood moments before.

  Sorn couldn't help but admire the iridescence of their scales, the elegant swirls of gold, silver, and copper brilliance that bejeweled their forms and made them among the most beautiful of their kind. Such a mixture had never been seen before in living memory, a credit to the success of the incredibly complex and potent arcane experiment that had engineered their conception.

  Strangely, their gorgeous swirl of colors was absent even from their exalted elder brothers, who simply shown a brilliant electrum.

  It was only after taking a moment to preen before each other in their luminescent glory that they finally took note of Sorn's glower and turned themselves invisible, with far greater ease than they were able to in human form, fully immersed as they now were in their natural power.

  Sorn just shook his head, turning himself invisible before transforming as well, his internal harmony such that his spells could now fully carry over between forms, as he had discovered just that morning.

  It was a good thing too, Elthsiss reflected, seeing as how he was considerably larger than his younger cousins, and so would be highly visible to anyone even casually looking in the direction of Vorstice's property, so great was his size.

  Elthsiss rumbled in contentment as he dug ravenously into the equine meat before him.

  Out of courtesy for his curious culinary hesitancy, his cousins allowed him fully three of the horses, as that was all he ate, Elthsiss allowing his cousins everything else at their disposal.

  18

  "I don't see why he was being so picky, Kring." Elquit, who still felt quite like Fitz for the moment, commented to his brother in the high pitched subsonic cry of dragons. "He didn't seem to mind so much last night what he ate," Fitz continued.

  Lieberman, or Kring as he had been named in his true form, nodded his serpentine neck sagely, his sapphire eyes sparkling as if with hidden wisdom. Or perhaps it was just gas. Fitz wasn’t always sure with Kring.

  "Ah. That may be true, brother, but consider. He was not really Sorn then, but Elthsiss alone, since Sorn was so badly injured. Our cousin was acting on instinct only until he found the cove. The Sorn part of Elthsiss had nothing to do with it, though I am sure he may now remember what happened in a fuzzy sort of way."

  Fitz was comforted by Lieberman's insight, remembering that Lieberman had witnessed a pain-wracked elder slip into a wyrm-like state himself, after taking serious injury from an unexpected cave-in. The elder was found later curled up in a rocky niche near several animal pens outside their clan's cave network. The animals were in a frenzy, though the elder was by then sleeping deeply, one struggling sheep reflexively held in one of the elder's claws, as if for a midnight snack.

  It had been a life-altering experience for a very young Lieberman. He had been getting ready for one of his first hunts as one of their elven serfs prepared to free a sheep for him to hunt, when the roaring elder came sliding down the cliff face along with several tons of rock, diving straight into the sheep pen. Senseless with pain, the great wyrm had offhandedly crushed several elves in addition to numerous sheep when he dove into the pen; victims which he then voraciously consumed, smashing the remainder of that pen to ribbons as he did so. What sheep and elves had survived had fled for their lives.

  It was only Lieberman's draconic scent that had saved him, being recognized as not-food at a very primitive level, particularly since Lieberman had been so young. As a result of his experience, and the study this had inspired in a normally very flighty young dragon, Lieberman now considered himself an expert on the behavior of injured dragons.

  No longer speaking the common tongue of York and the adjoining kingdoms of the northern continent, the brothers communicated in a high-pitched cry originally evolved for echo-location, allowing one to both fly and hunt in pitch blackness, or deep within clouds.

  Indeed, nothing remained long invisible from a dragon's senses, one reason why invisibility spells had never been that popular among their people. So too, their ultrasonic vocalizations allowed for rapid high-frequency communication, though only over moderately short distances could it be used in this fashion.

  They could also communicate with a subsonic rumble so low in frequency only an elephant could pick up, which had far, far greater range. Yet this was best for sending short simple messages, not long dialogue.

  Though Elthsiss could appreciate all this in the abstract, he was, in fact, finding the voices of his cousins quite irritating as they tickled his ears and distracted him from the sleep he so desperately craved.

  "Kring, Elquit, shut up," Elthsiss hissed in a voice that would register even to a human's ears, as if to give his cousins a hint. "I'm trying to sleep."

  "Err… sorry, cousin," apologized an abashed Elquit. "I thought you were already asleep."

  “Obviously,” growled a tired Elthsiss.

  "But, Elthsiss," queried a worried Kring, carrying over a bit of the concern he would as Lieberman if his cousin was missing the obvious. "What if someone walks in?"

  Kring’s point was a good one, so Elthsiss forbore to hiss as he crack
ed one eye open, though something about the gesture, still quite visible in the infrared, gave his cousins’ pause nonetheless.

  "You make a good point, Kring, for all that we remain invisible to those that cannot see with sound or heat. So how about you go over and bend the iron gates shut so no one can open them, then come back here and get some sleep?" Elthsiss closed his eyes, pointedly ignoring the hissing snickers emanating from his cousins as Kring grumpily slithered over to the gate, offhandedly mashing the two adjoining metal bars together with one of his claws with such force that the metal became red hot, near instantly fusing together.

  Making his way back to his nestmates once more, quite visible as warm glows, for all that they were invisible to the blue-green spectrum of color, Kring almost immediately fell asleep against the soothing rumble of his cousin's large chest, head instinctively facing outward as did each of his relatives in one of the cardinal directions.

  And time gently passed, a weary Elthsiss slept the deep sleep of exhaustion. Once again he found himself visualizing his favorite creation in his mind's eye as his awareness gently raised up, like a bubble, from the deep caverns of luxurious sleep. He observed carefully the injuries that his alternate form had received and was pleased to sense that the narrow bolts of the Empire's soldiers had caused only minor damage to his form, easy enough to repair. Gently, Elthsiss sent into Sorn tendrils of power to knit together the fibers of his human form, pleased to see how readily Sorn's flesh knit and repaired itself at his behest.

  He found himself slightly concerned, however, to see that his form seemed just the slightest bit stressed as a whole, as if having been taxed by a burden it had not yet fully repaired itself from. Elthsiss assumed this was just due to weariness and decided that he simply needed to give his form more rest after taxing itself. Glad indeed he was that he had taken the time to sate his ravenous appetite and rest in his true form.

  It was then, gazing into Sorn's suddenly open eyes, their irises glittering a sapphire hue so like his own orbs, that he found himself confused as to whether he was Elthsiss gazing at Sorn, or Sorn gazing at Elthsiss, lost in the dragon's dreaming muse.

  It was then that Elthsiss's eyes snapped open, momentarily dreamy confusion giving way to exasperation as he realized by the pitch blackness overhead that he and his cousins, though intending only a quick nap, had, in fact, slept the day away entirely.

  “Guys!” An irritated Elthsiss hissed abruptly. “Wake up! It’s later than you think, we slept the entire day away! Six hours lost, at least.”

  With an almost eerie precision that Elthsiss was in fact quite used to, all three of his cousins’ heads raised as one, eyes snapping instantly open, only momentarily befuddled at Elthsiss’s abrupt summons from rest.

  “But Elthsiss, we’re tired. Can’t we rest for just a bit longer?” Elquit’s mew was plaintive, like a child’s, which in fact he still was.

  To which Elthsiss only snorted, twin jets of flame quickly searing the grass by his feet. "Clear the cobwebs from your mind, cousins. Halence was hoping to leave upon this night, and we still need to make sure all went well with his attempted audience with the king. We need to be certain that Caverenoc is sufficiently warned of the threat coiled like a serpent about its heart. No doubt Halence is worried about our well-being as well. Besides, I would not mind the chance to say my farewells to a… friend I made while at the palace."

  At which point a faint metallic creak could well be heard even without the gift of the wyrm's extremely acute hearing. Four heads snapped in unison to face the front gate. Their acute night vision easily made out the countenances of a number of Caverenoc's watchmen, several holding torches, as they tried, futilely, to lever open the iron gates that had been so well sealed earlier by Kring that they had effectively been fused into one.

  "Well, cousins, I do think that it is about time that we made our exit, don't you?" Elthsiss quipped dryly, getting three abashed nods in turn. And with the flaps of powerful wings, having paused only long enough to gather their treasure, the four immense figures launched themselves into the night sky, gliding upon the faint currents of mana their draconic senses alone could see, quickly gaining altitude to ride the more powerful etherial winds high above.

  Visibility being what it was that cloudy night, they communicated via sonic cries when not lost in the rapture of their glorious flight, short as it was.

  Carefully held in each of the foreclaws of the younger worms were the silk wrapped prizes they had captured from their enemy, treasure they fairly glowed with delight in carrying. Their dialogue was animated as they built up the story of their accrual to heroic proportions, as any good dragon would. Few wyrms indeed did not have stories to tell about the glorious exploits that had garnered them their hoards. For without question, one of the more enjoyable aspects of visiting one's friend's layers was being regaled by tales of trials endured and adventures experienced in acquiring their treasures. It was as close to bardic lore as dragons came.

  Elthsiss merely hummed contentedly, his mouth encumbered by one of the stone pillars from the cell in which the main portion of Vorstice's hoard had been sequestered, the better to anchor and mark their wealth should it need to be buried. For a dragon's instinct and prudence regarding the storage and safety of his treasure was all but second nature, including planning for contingencies as needed.

  "Look at that, guys!" Elquit keened to his brothers and cousin as they approached Halence's ship, still docked at port, many thousands of feet below. Peering intently below with vision sharper than any eagle's, they noted what looked like the king's men, torches raised in the growing dusk, surrounding the ship below. It appeared that all the sailors on board were being rounded up, at sword's point no less, though the soldiers appeared relaxed, and there was no imminent danger of mayhem. This in its own right was an alarming concern that set them to worrying about the well-being of Halence and the other sailors. Their alarm turned to instinctive fury, however, when other soldiers came out of the bulkhead moments later carrying what looked like the youth’s own gold-filled treasure chest.

  "How dare they!" Kring screeched. "I could kill them!"

  Sorn understood his cousin's reaction completely, since at the moment he was Kring the dragon with all Kring's instincts and passions, far more than he was Lieberman the boy. And what Sorn and his cousins felt first and foremost at that moment was outrage that these small little humans had the gall not only to betray the magnanimity of their friendship, but to steal their hoard as well.

  Whether or not Lieberman's fondness for people would have been sufficient to deter Kring from transforming those oblivious guards far below to puffs of super-heated ash was fortunately not put to the test. For his cousin's warning growl, a signal that caused instinctive deference far greater in their present form than it did when they were human, immediately curbed Kring's wrath. After all, not only was Elthsiss the closest thing to a father they had, he was also many times their mass, and not in the mood for any foolishness, for all that he sympathized with their outrage just the same.

  Fortunately, Elthsiss's growl was no less effective, for all that his teeth were presently clamped upon a slab of stone. His cousins backed off from the alarming sight below, instead following their cousin as he gently dipped into the water some hundred yards away from the ship. The resulting splashes garnered the attention of crew and soldiers alike even from that distance, though there was, of course, nothing for them to see. Quickly Elthsiss swum with the effortless sinewy grace of a sea snake, arms pressed tight to his body, until he was by the ship, his cousin's right behind him. He then dived under, quickly borrowing a great hole with his claws by the large wooden log supporting the end of the pier to which their ship was tied to. His cousins then proceeded to delicately place the tightly secured sacks they still carried in their foreclaws inside the hole, each filled near to bursting with the impressive hoard they had claimed from Vorstice's residence. Elthsiss then proceeded to carefully cover up the mound, wedging the slab o
f stone he had carried in his mouth on top of it. The heavy stone was intended to help secure their hoard even though it was buried deep enough to stay put in even the fiercest of storms, as well as to mark the spot where they had buried it. This despite the fact that it was already marked by the last stout oak log that supported the end of the pier.

  A dragon was nothing if not cautious with his treasure. And certainly they dared not put it on the ship now. If anything, Elthsiss thought as he went up for air, though by no means short of breath, he should have buried their treasure chest under the ship while he had the chance, just in case something did go wrong. Now, of course, it was too late.

  "Well, my cousins," Elthsiss rumbled as their heads broke the surface of the water in tandem, "it looks like something unforeseen has occurred. No doubt Lord Vorstice has pulled some clever gambit out of the air and we, once again, must needs be on the defensive."

  Elthsiss's eyes became half-lidded as he immersed himself in a moment's deep thought. "Let's assume the worst. Let's assume that he has made it appear as if we are the criminals. Or worse, perhaps he has somehow blackmailed the king. In any event, we must assume he has power and men at his disposal. Though it seemed a dark secret he would share with no one not already in his camp, it is altogether possible that he will, or has already, sent a man to warn his vile conspirators resting even now in those warehouses. Thus we need to set up a watch, in our human forms of course."

  Visible to Sorn as exquisitely detailed infrared glows against the dark backdrop of a far cooler sea, his cousins nodded their understanding, sapphire orbs still focused on the soldiers taking crew and treasure both up the pier towards the palace proper, their night vision the equal to any owl’s.