Heresy of Dragons

by Erik Reid

  “Why would your arms give up if you don’t want them to?” Franco asked.

  “Don’t yours?” Dani asked.

  “For a climb like that? No.” He turned to me. “Taker-Master-Kyle, should we bring you to the top?”

  “Kobold-Given-Franco,” I said. “Yes.”

  The red-skinned kid put his fingers in his mouth, whistled loud, and waved his brothers on. They brought their pickaxes, leaving a handful of weighty hammers lying around the tunnel, and they brought over ropes.

  First, two kobolds took the ropes we had carried along with us and scrambled up the vertical tunnel toward the sky. Others carried pickaxes and leapt the same way Clara had, quickly climbing their way upward with tools in hand.

  Kaylee bounced on her toes the whole time, watching with rapt attention as our kobold army pointed and climbed, chittered and squeaked. They all seemed to have different ideas about how best to arrange themselves, but they settled into spots along the mountain’s vent and perched there against the inner wall. Each sank the sharp end of their pickaxes into the solid rock and held on with one hand, extending a free hand toward the vent’s open middle.

  “Care to go first?” I asked.

  “Yes, please!” she said. She ran into the center of the tunnel’s opening, tilted her head back, and jumped.

  A red hand snatched her wrist and swung her upward, lifting her slender simki body and whisking her along the tunnel. Her yellow dress clung to her outline as she flew at a diagonal, tossed toward another kobold waiting to catch her.

  Only, he didn’t catch her. He reached out, flattened his palm exactly where Kaylee’s foot would land once gravity pulled her downward, then braced against the sole of her boot. He thrust upward then, propelling her toward the kobold waiting diagonally across and further up. She bounced with each firm thrust, rocketing in a zigzag that brought her toward two stretches of rope held taut over the pit’s mouth.

  In the span of three minutes, her outstretched fingers grabbed hold of those ropes and held tight. The two kobolds that held them maneuvered Kaylee’s dangling body toward the edge of the rock where she was able to climb to the surface with ease.

  “That was incredible,” Dani said, holding both saddlebags over her shoulder.

  “You go next,” I said. “So I can catch you if you fall.”

  “I do have wings,” she said.

  “Well,” I said. “Maybe I just wanted to enjoy the view.” I smacked her ass and she swatted at me with her tail, laughing and shaking her head.

  “You should have just said so.” She dug deep into the saddlebags and pulled a few items free. Her recipes, her ingredients, a few small candies that sat within their paper wrappers.

  “The rations are gone,” she said. “The horses, too. Seems silly to carry these old bags around just for a few odds and ends.” She tucked the small items between her breasts, then adjusted her top to ensure they would stay put. “Ready.”

  Dani’s trajectory followed Kaylee’s perfectly, bouncing from one kobold to the next and gaining altitude with each forceful catch-and-toss. In moments she grabbed hold of the rope bridge at the crevasse’s opening and pulled herself up.

  “Okay,” I said. “Beam me up.”

  The first kobold grabbed my wrist and hoisted me up, propelling me toward the next stop on my journey, then he yanked his tool from the small crack he opened in the wall and started scurry-climbing toward the top.

  I stiffened my legs and braced for the next kobold to thrust his open palm against the sole of my boot, then he took his mining tool and joined his brother in their ascent toward the sky.

  I felt like Donkey Kong, pinballing my way up from the depths of a cavern level one explosive barrel at a time. It was a blast. The quick burst of speed that turned the tunnel into a rocky blur; the slowing of inertia and momentary sense of weightlessness as I approached my next kobold-hand landing-spot; the unpredictable rush of accelerating air as I shot upward again.

  A dozen little red givens all clamored below me, chasing after me with the sound of their pickaxes assisting the long climb. I flew toward the final kobold, ready for the boost that would catapult me toward the ropes overhead.

  That little fucker missed.

  His hand reached toward my foot, but his pickax slid from its position, jostling his body and swinging his arm wide. As my ascent slowed, it quickly morphed into a terrifying plummet. My front smacked against the rock wall on the way back down, then I skidded downward with my arms and legs flailing, swinging wide for any semblance of a handhold or foothold.

  The kobolds below gasped collectively as I careened toward the crevasse’s floor. Then Oscar latched onto something.

  My body jerked to a stop as Oscar’s fingertips clenched onto the smallest rock ledge, holding my entire life by the grace of a half-inch seam of rock. My arm strained and my body dangled while the little kobold that had failed his taker scrambled to climb down toward me. His skinny legs were shaking and his long red ears flopped downward in apparent shame.

  There were no outcroppings or ledges for my feet to discover as they searched blindly below me. All I could do was reach up and hope the kobold overhead could keep me from falling.

  He couldn’t.

  As he frantically descended the rock wall, he did something I’d never seen a kobold do before: he lost his grip. First his feet slid too far to one side, splitting his legs uncomfortably apart, then his pickax arm came away from the wall, losing his grasp on the tool as his body lurched into a spasmodic mid-air meltdown.

  My outstretched hand snatched the pickax before it could sink its pointy end into an eyeball, and the kobold caught an arm around my waist to stop his fall, forcing Oscar to strain even more, holding up our combined weight by my fingernails.

  Fingernails which, by the way, I still hadn’t trimmed. Thanks, Oscar.

  “Hold tight, kiddo,” I said. I pulled my arm back slowly, aiming the pickax at the rock, and then slammed it hard. My whole body reverberated from the impact and I swayed perilously, rebounding in the opposite direction. When I came to rest again, I repeated the effort, chipping a hole in the stone just deep enough to sink the pickax blade into.

  I gave it a tug. It seemed secure.

  Lifting Oscar’s fingers one by one, I tested the pickax’s ability to hold a greater share of our weight and my other arm’s capacity to maintain its grip. So far so good. Then I let Oscar go completely. With that hand free, I was able to find a ledge, pull my body higher, and discover a foothold for one of my feet.

  The kobolds below cheered, although the one clinging to my back was starting to cry.

  “Do not throw off my center of gravity by crying,” I said. “I forbid it.”

  “But I…” he said, sniffling between words, “could have… annihilated my own taker.”

  “If we’re rounding up from attempted involuntary manslaughter,” I said. “Then yeah, you could have.”

  “H- h- how can someone attempt something they didn’t mean to do?” he asked.

  “You want me to show you?”

  “N- no.”

  “That’s what I thought. Now shush.”

  I chipped another hole into the rock, then continued my climb. Oscar’s improved Somatic Boost was a blessing, helping me hoist my body and the kobold that clung around my waist. His brethren had closed the distance between us now, cheering me on from a few yards below.

  With each passing second I ascended another inch, then another foot, climbing slowly and intentionally until I neared the mouth of the tunnel. A rope dangled against the wall, and Oscar grabbed it, allowing the twin kobolds on the mountain’s surface to reel us in the rest of the way.

  I climbed up and sank my boots into the snow, then pried the kobold from my back. He was a sniveling mess, falling back into the snow the moment I freed myself of his grip. When I stood up, Dani and Kaylee threw their arms around me and started kissing my face wherever they could — my cheek, my chin, my nose.

  “I thought I
was going to watch you go splat on the bottom,” Kaylee said.

  “I was seconds away from diving into the tunnel to catch you,” Dani said.

  “That would just get you killed,” I said. “Your wings are no good for gliding in close quarters like that. You’d smack into a wall. That’s why I waited to go last. So I could catch you. Just like I said.”

  “But—”

  “I told the truth the first time, Dani,” I said. “I always do.”

  The kobolds climbed up from the tunnel behind me and crowded around. Franco walked up to the one crying in the snow and frowned.

  “ ‘Off with his head,’ ” I said, “is a joke I would make if I thought you guys had any sense of humor. Seriously, give the guy a hug or something. He looks like he needs it.”

  My sentence trailed off at the end as I caught sight of my surroundings.

  This mountaintop was fucking majestic.

  A short distance away, no longer than a ten minute walk from where we stood, a massive shelf of rock extended from the mountain’s face, reaching in a perfect 45-degree diagonal toward the sky.

  The three inches of fresh, pure snow that covered the ground beneath our feet had a thin layer of crisp ice that hardened along its surface. That same smooth, frozen layer seemed to stretch across the high-rising spire of rock and toward its tip, coating it in a crystal shell that reflected back the faint light of Silura’s moon and stars.

  Even without torches to light our way, the reflective whiteness that coated this environ gave it a low, inviting glow. It would have been serene, if not for the infestation of demonspawn that claimed the mountain as their own. Instead, the quiet stillness of the mountain’s peak was unnerving.

  One of the kobolds reached down for a scoop of snow, then tossed it at his brother. Both boys were shocked when that projectile erupted in a burst of fresh white powder.

  “That’s not how you make a snowball, fellas,” I said, packing a dense sphere of it between my hands. I chucked it at a kobold and knocked him on his ass, eliciting wide eyes and broad grins from his brothers. They all started scooping up handfuls of it and throwing with excellent natural aim.

  Kaylee’s simki tail lowered against the unbroken layer of ice behind her and she crouched down, cupping her hands around her ears. “Do you hear that?”

  We all quieted and listened, shaking our heads as we strained to pick up any sound at all. She just smiled. “I think I hear the best of all of us,” she whispered. “I’m the best hearer!”

  “It’s those cute little half-moon ears,” I whispered. “Like radar dishes. Now tell us what it is.”

  “Feet,” she said. “Dani, can you stand very still for a second?”

  “I can,” Dani replied.

  Kaylee smiled wide.

  “Should I be worried?” Dani asked. “I feel like—”

  Kaylee leapt high off the ground and landed on Dani’s shoulders, standing upright while the draykin beneath her wavered to keep her balance. Kaylee stretched her arms wide and swung her tail while Dani did the same, like a tightrope walker walking a tightrope on top of another tightrope walker.

  When both girls gradually stilled, Kaylee scanned every direction, then hopped down. “I found footprints! They’re over there.” She pointed toward her left.

  “And there,” she pointed right.

  “And there, and there, and a whole bunch over there.” Her finger kept changing position. “They’re all half buried in snow though, so I can’t tell which ones are Clara’s. Should we check them all?”

  “They could be bloodhound footprints,” Dani said. “We should proceed with care.”

  “And we don’t need two dozen kobolds trailing behind us, making things conspicuous,” I said. “Guys, you’ve been great, but you can go now. As the taker who stole a bunch of money from the draykin queen and used it to buy your little slave allegiances, it is my privilege to set you free. Turn that tunnel into something cozy, boys. You already have a killer skylight.”

  A sea of red faces turned sour, and angry, and terrified. They let their half-formed snowballs fall from their fists while they squeaked in protest. They turned side to side, gesticulating fervently as they argued in words I couldn’t make out because they all came out as one.

  “They’re miffed,” I said. “I bet Abraham Lincoln never had this problem.”

  “You can’t just set them free,” Dani said. “They have no education, no exposure to the world, no way to feed and shelter themselves. You’re their taker. They need you to teach them, and guide them, and prepare them for an independent life.”

  “Ah,” I said. “So that’s the difference between ‘independence’ and ‘freedom.’ I wish Clara had spelled it out for me earlier.

  “Okay, sorry about that everyone, I hereby rescind my emancipation proclamation. Welcome back to ‘modified indentured servitude.’ But do me a solid and hang tight while we go look for Clara. If there are bloodhounds around, we’ll need some stealth.”

  I waved at Dani and Kaylee, leading the way ahead by following in a set of footprints that led through the snow toward the horizon. The girls followed suit, single-file. Two dozen kobolds, however, crept behind us in a tactless wave of bodies crunching ice and snow as they went.

  I turned back.

  “Guys,” I said. “Buds. Bros. Amigos. You’re noisy, bright red, and you smell bad. I can’t have you attracting bloodhounds. Go back underground. We’ve got this.”

  When we continued to stalk forward, following footsteps too large to be Clara’s, the kobolds crept behind us, making a childish effort to creep quietly that was not at all effective.

  “Seriously,” I said. “Scram. Don’t come back until I need you to. That’s an order.”

  Hurt faces and slumped shoulders would not sway my mind. They were inexperienced and conspicuous. Out here, that made them a liability. I stared them down until they turned and skulked toward the pit we had just climbed up.

  CHAPTER 29

  We kept the giant shard of sloping rock to our left and trekked across the flat, open snow toward a few smaller outcroppings. Unlike the diagonal rock shelf, those outcroppings were long and low, with ice riming their top halves and leaving the brown rock of their bases bare. Shallow depressions in the snow showed which direction the wind had blown, with those stone bulwarks blocking the ice from building up in their shadows.

  Kaylee made a game out of stepping from footprint to footprint, hunching low to minimize her profile. She never had to swing her legs very far apart, which meant those depressions in the snow weren’t caused by a bloodhound in a hurry. This was their casual stomping ground, their chilly, high-altitude home.

  They felt safe here.

  I reached out an arm to stop Kaylee in her tracks, then gestured toward the flat expanse ahead. A dark shape, vaguely like a person, hunched close to the ground with its back facing us. It dug with an outstretched arm in the snow.

  We crept closer, following Kaylee’s example and stepping only where the top layer of ice had already been broken by the footsteps that preceded us.

  Magnify, I thought, ignoring Oscar’s notification deducting some energy from his reserves.

  My vision swirled at the seams while the center of my gaze sharpened and expanded. The hunched-over shape before us was a bloodhound alright, but not like I was used to. Instead of the tattered, gray clothing that hung loose from a gaunt, canine body, this creature wore something red that looked oddly like human apparel. Stained and stretched out, yes, but still like something I could see myself wearing. It was even my favorite color.

  On top of that, it was doing something very un-monster-like.

  “Bloodhound,” I said. “Making a snow sculpture. I think it’s supposed to be a butterfly, but it looks more like Rorschach.”

  “Like who?” Dani asked.

  “From the Watchmen,” I said. “Nevermind. Spoilers.”

  Party Assist: 4 Degrees

  “Hmm,” I said. “Either Oscar thinks that bloo
dhound wants to become our new pet, or he’s just found Clara.”

  “Thermal on,” I said.

  The sky didn’t change much, its dark night chill casting my vision in a wide swath of dark blue overlay. The figure ahead was only a few shades lighter; definitely a bloodhound. Beyond it sat a smaller shape, crouched and perfectly still, half sheltered by a large rock. She was a hot little number, an orangey outline with a bright red center that spoke of life and warmth.

  “I see her,” I said. “She’s hiding behind a large rock further out. I don’t think the bloodhound has noticed her yet.”

  Low Energy Warning

  Energy Reserves: 2.0%

  “Thermal off.”

  “Clara!” Kaylee whispered. “Claaaaara. Come baaaaaack!” She waved her arms.

  “Kaylee,” Dani said. “We probably don’t want to attract its attention.”

  “Yeah, we do,” I said. “I want what’s mine.”

  Before Dani could inquire further, I stood tall, waved my arms around, and yelled. “Hey, blood for brains! Get your hairy gray ass over here. It’s time to give back my hoodie.”

  The creature snapped its attention toward me and smiled before charging at full speed. As it ran, its gait wasn’t the half-hunched shamble of a man-shaped creature with a quadruped’s hips. It ran like a human would, and smiled the same, gleeful smile of every over-confident sadist I’ve ever met.

  My sweatshirt sleeves hung past its wrists and the red hood flopped behind its head.

  “Stay with Kaylee,” I said. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  Behind me, Dani rested Kaylee’s head on her shoulder and wrapped her delicate, draykin fingers across Kaylee’s eyes. The simki’s cheeks hadn’t started to flush yet, but keeping calm was a strain on her and I didn’t want to tire out her willpower before we faced off with A’zarkin.

  When the creature closed the distance between us, I charged forward, pulling back at the last second to kick it in the chest just as it reached back for an attempted punch. The fiend flew off its feet and landed in the snow, but sprang up again quickly.