Peril & Profit

by M. H. Johnson

  Lieberman gave Sorn a dark smile at that point, taking over the narrative. "And that's when the mage called us liars, and that's when I challenged him, and the king looked shocked but the mage jumped on it, saying a formal challenge had to be answered unless I admitted I was just an apprentice, in which case he would claim custody of me, and I would be forced to follow him around like a child and do what he said.

  "So I said I wasn't his apprentice, and he could go kiss his own rear, as far as I was concerned. Then he started screaming at my disrespect, but that's okay, Sorn, `cause that's when I got a really good idea, though I think it was your idea first. I asked the king what the rules were with a mage's duel, and he said we could use any magic that wouldn't kill or permanently maim the other, and we had to give each other a chance to yield, and I said did that include illusion magic and he said yes, so I said ‘Great, let's get on with it.'

  "But then the old wizard suddenly stopped his yelling and said we needed terms, and all mages had a day to prepare, and was I so foolish that I didn't even know that. I didn't mind his tone that time because frankly, I needed the rest. Fitz and Hanz were snickering, however, I think because the old geezer looked so surprised that I wanted to go ahead with it.

  "We thought he probably wanted to chicken out again, even though I'm ‘only' an apprentice. Then Fitz and Hanz started flapping their arms and making chicken noises, and all the knights started laughing again, and the old wizard got so red he looked like he was going to explode! Then the king gave Fitz and Hanz one of those looks. You know, the ones that grandfather used to give us after he caught us raiding the kitchens?

  "Anyway, the terms we agreed to were that if I lost, we would stay and teach his dumb wizards the mirror image spell, if they were smart enough to learn it. But if I won, not only would he have to treat me as an equal, he would also have to teach my master, that's you, Sorn, a spell that you wanted to learn. And the mage said fine, but the king said that no matter what happens, we all have to treat each other with respect, even if we did end up his apprentices, and that in any case, he wasn't allowed to yell at us and we weren’t allowed to make fun of him."

  Sorn smiled at that. "Okay, cousin, sounds great so far, but slow down, all right? You're talking a mile a minute."

  "You're not mad?" Lieberman asked in wide-eyed disbelief.

  Sorn chuckled softly. "Not at all, cousin, not at all. Pray continue."

  Lieberman flashed a relieved grin. "Okay. Anyway, there was the feasting and celebrating, and we agreed to host the duel in the large fields between the palace and the city wall. By the way, did you know, Sorn, that the gardens and the hedge mazes were once also part of the fields, and that it was all once a jousting area? Anyway, everyone looked excited and made it all a big party, and apparently, each mage gets to cast three spells before they fight each other, except invisibility. So I had my mirror image, missile shield, and mage armor cast. I don't know what the high mage cast, but then we faced each other from a hundred paces, and the first thing he did was throw this billowing cloud of green vapor at me, and I guessed it might be something that could put me to sleep, so I just charged right through it with my mouth and eyes closed, and the truth is I felt dizzy for a second, but then I was fine.

  "Then he cast this bolt of prismatic color at me, and I just barely closed my eyes, but it made me feel dizzy and woozy, but only for a second, and then he shrieked this keening sound and I lost my balance and felt a little bit ill, but that mostly stopped once he did, and I have to tell you, Sorn, his eyes were wide with surprise then I got back up. But I was actually feeling pretty dizzy, nauseous, and tired at that point. So then I yelled, "And now for the greatest illusion of all!" and cast the prestidigitation cantrip, so there was a lot of colorful smoke, and then I became Kring.

  "Then my thoughts got cold and gleeful, and for just a second I thought of eating him, but then I recalled that this was, well, I guess you could call it play, so I took a deep breath and breathed over his head. I think the fire was a bit too hot, because even though it was seven feet above his head and only for a second, his hair still caught on fire, and he started yelling, and I think I sort of maybe cracked some of the stone blocks in the wall behind him with the burst of heat. But don't worry, not too much melted, and there was only a little fire when some of it dripped on the shrubbery below. But that's okay, Sorn, because Elissa told us the walls were twenty feet thick.

  "Anyway, everyone looked surprised, and I said, "Sorry!" but it came out as a low roar, and I don't know if anyone heard me. So then the wizard cast a spell at me, I think it was some magic to separate the strands of an arcane web, but it just washed right over me, since it wasn't sleep magic or mirroring my body's natural inclinations like you said.

  "Anyway, he looked really surprised that I was still Kring and not Lieberman, so then I roared for dramatic effect, blew him over by batting my wings at him, pounced on him, and pinned him with one claw. Don't worry, Sorn, I was really gentle. And I could feel the kinetic ward spell he had on, kind of like yours, but different, so he does know some powerful magics, I guess. Then I roared at everyone, and I spoke using their words, but I had to pitch my voice really high so that they could hear me, and demanded that the wizard yield or I would swallow him with a single bite, and he screamed in a really squeaky voice that he yielded, and then I was going to say something to make everyone laugh, especially since Mr. High and Mighty high mage had just wet his pants.

  "But then I thought of you, Sorn. How you were always a gentleman, and would help the loser to his feet, and everyone thought it showed how noble and good you were. So that's exactly what I did, once I cast another prestidigitation cantrip and changed back to Lieberman, and I said, 'Well then, good match!' And I gave him a polite little bow like you would do. Then we both bowed to the king, and all the knights were cheering, so I walked off with them and Hanz and Fitz came with us, and we all got drunk and danced on the tables, at least that's all I remember, `cause the next day I had a bit of a headache."

  "I'm not surprised, good cousin," Sorn said with a warm chuckle. "Sounds like you three had and interesting week while I was indisposed."

  "Oh, it was fun!" Hanz said. “All these girls with fancy dresses and pearls in their hair, daughters of the lords, I guess, were giving us cow eyes all the time and smiling at us! I'll tell you Sorn, it felt good to have all these people paying attention to us, and females no less!"

  Sorn was not surprised to hear this, for even though his cousins were not physically mature as of yet, they certainly had the physiques of very healthy, if young, human adolescents. Though at present they had only the vaguest comprehension of the deeper associations between the two sexes, they could certainly appreciate the attention that they were getting. After all, females, whom in their own realm were far more massive than males and the masters of all they surveyed, would allow only the smartest and strongest of males the honor of siring their brood. A healthy male could easily devote his entire life to chasing after and attempting to please a single captivating female, lucky to be spared, after much effort, an appraising glance if that.

  Yet here in this realm, girls were all but chasing after his cousins! Lads whom in their own realm would be spared little more than the bemused glance one would give a toddler crawling under one's feet. Sorn imagined it had been a very sweet experience for them indeed, though he thought it would have frustrated the girls to no end to find out just how little interest his cousins had in exploring their deeper mysteries. After all, however much they may appear the sleek young fighters of ephemeral grace and beauty on the outside, physiologically, they were little more than children, albeit remarkably tall, fit, and strong for their size.

  "I'm sure it did feel good, cousin, of that I have no doubt!" Sorn smiled. "So. Was it hard to leave?"

  "Yeah, I guess it was." Fitz sighed. "It was nice to be the heroes once again, but Halence said that we would have to leave very soon, and the king actually said he understood. Those papers Halence is
carrying are vital to the northern kingdoms, the king confided to us. He also gave Halence his blessing to take along whatever noble chose to leave, and Halence had time to refit the cargo hold entirely, and we got more lords and their families than Halence had dreamed we would. And the long and short of it is that our share of the gold, in total, is right now five thousand three hundred and thirty royals, and that amount will be doubled, once we get back to York! And that's not including the ten thousand royals worth of gold and the bag of gems we got from Lord Vorstice, or the reward the king gave us!

  "We didn't even have to give the lords the thousand royals you had promised them, since Vorstice had escaped and they felt bad that he had tried to poison Elissa and the king, so they said we didn't owe them any of our gold. So we are rich, Sorn! We are utterly and completely rich!"

  Sorn was touched to see the warm glow of contented avarice in his cousins' eyes. He couldn't help smiling despite his fatigue, feeling good about this wonderful ending to their intense and peril-fraught journey. Sorn sighed with contented pleasure, thinking of their growing hoard, and how well this boded for catching the eye of future mates of their own.

  Until with an abrupt jolt, he snapped into focus once again. The stark reality of their own predicament was only made all the more apparent by their growing hoard.

  For there were no other dragons upon this world. No females of their kind venting their fierce cry in the skies overhead, hawk-eyed vision able to catch the glimmer of glittering gold and jewels melted into a craggy cliff face hundreds of miles distant, ready to investigate a potential mate worthy of her sleek and graceful form.

  In serving its most basic function, much like a crow would collect shiny objects to bring to its nest to attract a potential mate, their horar was worthless. For there were no females of their kind here bejeweling the skies with their sensual, glittering forms. No young dragonette questing for a mate of her own, whose keen eyes couldn't help but catch the glimmer of sunlight or moonlight reflecting off a cliff face bejeweled by the sparkling facets of hundreds of gems and polished gold. All painstakingly buffed in the hopes of attracting the eyes of just such a female, scouting the skies for food and companionship untold miles away.

  Sorn's eyes were close to tears with these thoughts, he himself having reached the cusp of manhood, and his ache for home and a mate of his own was as fierce as it was sudden. Oh, how he missed his home.

  Almost, almost he could see himself performing those dark deeds he knew would have to be done in order to open the gateway between this realm and his own. Through such acts, the skies would be flooded with the roaring forms of his own kind, bringing fire and chaos to these lands, establishing their unquestioned and utter dominion of this realm as they branded it their own.

  Then, at last, the skies would be filled with the sleek graceful forms of female dragons of a dozen tribes, all filled with a vibrant fertility as they prepared to colonize this fresh virgin world to hold clans of their own kind forever more. And he, forerunner of the clans, of royal stock, one of the four who shared responsibility for opening the portal entire, he along with his cousins would be sought beyond all others to father the new tribes of this land.

  Their hoard would sparkle from the tallest mountaintop this world knew, glittering with the combined wealth of a hundred raids and conquests. Jewels mounted in rivers of melted gold so rich as to cover craggy mountaintops entire, sparkling for thousands of miles in all its blinding glory. His hot breath melting all condensation off every morning, simultaneously buffering it to a glow unrivaled by any hoard ever gathered before. Steeped in glory, fathering the tribes of this world, Sorn and his cousins would become legends.

  Sorn sighed as the vision near captivated him, snapping out of it with a start when he registered the contented sighs of his cousins, realizing with some alarm that his vision had been so strong that he had unwittingly pulled them into it as well. The three sighed forlornly when Sorn’s abrupt snapping awake broke them of their reverie, having enjoyed the flight of fancy Sorn’s imagination had taken them on.

  Though they were too young to fully understand the mating instinct, admiration and glory they could appreciate as well as anyone, having had such a sweet taste of it but days before. So too the thought of becoming a legend would appeal to any dragon, young or old.

  For a second, Sorn just shuddered with a feeling near to loathing, chilled by how strong the ideation had been, how strong the instinct to rear and dominate was among his kind. Forcefully, he reminded himself of the terrible cost that conquest of this realm would entail upon the peoples of this land. Those all too often ignored tomes of history he had read had taught him all too well the pain, grief, and bloodshed that establishing dominion over this world would cause.

  Sorn's cousins shook their heads and blinked, giving him a look as if to question why he had negated that wonderful reverie they had all enjoyed, where everyone had admired and paid attention to them, where they were considered heroes by their own kind, no less. It was then that Sorn realized what he needed to do.

  Grimly, Sorn conveyed the scenes of horror and devastation that would be caused, should his people ever discover a way to this world that they could bridge en masse. Sorn's vision now rang with the screams of terror and desperate struggle for survival as people ran madly, futilely, through city streets, desperate to avoid the hideous flames raining down from the monstrous creatures above. Mothers desperately clutching their children tightly, in those last frantic moments vainly trying to shield their precious babes with their own bodies as the searing flames washed over them both.

  And so all the passions, hopes, dreams, and desires of an entire culture, an entire world, in many ways so very similar to their own, all obliterated in a searing wave of destruction, as fire rained down from above. Boys and girls, innocent dark-eyed gazes so very like Salrie's own little ones, moments before looking upward in awe or wonder at the strange visitors above, now twisted in horrific masks of excruciating agony as their burning bodies shrieked their last in the helpless arms of their dying parents. And such would occur, over and over again, in city after city, nation after nation, continent after continent. All laughter, hope, and music would be replaced by a final cacophony of shrieking discord, as all were consumed by an agony so sharp it was unfathomable to any who had never experienced fire's kiss.

  Yet Sorn, by the arcane burns he himself had suffered but days ago, was able to convey even this agony to his cousins. Even lost in his terrible vision, he could sense their hitched breathing as he compelled them to witness those terrible moments of agony and despair he could so clearly visualize befalling this entire world full of gentle souls who had done Sorn no wrong, save to live in a lush, fertile realm that his tribe would love to claim for their own.

  All too easily Sorn could visualize what would happen to their friends, should a portal be opened, unable to stop himself from visualizing the horrific final moments of Bates, Halence, Salrie, Lord Canterbier, Chestnut, everyone they had ever known or met here screaming their final moments in an agony of flame.

  It almost overwhelmed him, the flood of doubts and second thoughts he had begun to harbor from the moment he had first started to read the historical accounts of the campaigns of conquest his people had partaken of in realm after realm. Doubts that had eventually blossomed into grave misgivings as he had begun to discover fragments of the multitude of civilizations lost to his ancestor's flames.

  Ancient tomes, many barely legible despite the affinity his people had for languages, some even containing hastily scribbled, desperate accounts of the devastation of their world, frantically written down in those last hours or days. And now those misgivings Sorn had harbored for so long blossomed into outright horror under the certain knowledge of what would happen to this innocent, fragile world, should his people make their presence known.

  By the time Sorn thought to unclench the mental grip he had held on all four of them, pulling himself from the nightmarish reverie he had submerged them a
ll within, the room stunk with a scent he found tremendously disturbing, alarming him to no end. Only then did he note the ghostly pallor of his cousins' wide-eyed faces, their rapid and hitched breathing, the beads of sweat lining brows unfazed by heat. At last, he recognized the scent.

  It was a chilling thing, Sorn sadly reflected, to smell a dragon’s fear.

  39

  "Sorn," Fitz was the first to speak, voice quivering with the uncertainty of a wyrmling who had been forced to witness something truly awful. "I felt myself burn, Sorn. I felt what it was to burn."

  Sorn shuddered when he heard those words, viewing the tears in his cousin's eyes, knowing well he had given them pain, and not proud of it.

  Sorn's sigh was filled with apology and sorrow. "I know, my cousin, and I am sorry. For that is what I experienced when the magics I cast that night a week ago backlashed on me and caused the scars you see on my forearms even as we speak. And that, I fear, is perhaps only a taste of what a million innocents, just like those cute young girls who gazed at you with admiration and giggles in the palace, just like your warmhearted knight friends who drank you silly and danced with you upon the tables during your revels, would be forced to endure, should our people attempt to make this realm their own. All their happiness, all their joy, the lives and loves and families they would one day have, all would be destroyed in an agony of terror and flame, should we ever open the doorway between this world and our own."

  Sorn coughed at this point, a weak ragged cough, only just realizing how draining this shared resonance had been to his already depleted state, his mind swimming with his cousin's recent experiences, even as they reeled with horror still at the apocalyptic vision that Sorn feared might spell this world's doom.