Thankfully, Sam only had good news to report. Timmy’s first impressions had been accurate. Nothing unusual had happened, and none of the binding magic needed further repair or monitoring. All of the truly powerful entities were still asleep although a few of them had begun to extrude their presences into other worlds and dimensions. Timmy honestly pitied whoever was in those worlds and dimensions. He’d glimpsed some of the greater things beneath the castle, and even with the resistance he’d built up to eldritch power and phenomena, he’d almost been driven insane. If those… things were extruding shards or pieces of themselves into other worlds and dimensions and those shards or pieces were awake, then those places were in for a bad, bad time. It was this overwhelming might that made waking them such a tempting prospect for many people. There was even a part of him that had considered doing exactly that, so he could point the newly awakened creature in the general direction of the empire.
It would work. He knew it would. The empire would be devastated by the attack of even a single one of the true horrors that lurked underneath the castle. The cosmic fungus that had withstood hours of constant bombardment from the Sky City and the naval base would not have lasted more than a minute against the beings that Sam ultimately answered to. The problem was that there was no way to control a fully awakened eldritch horror of that calibre. The magic that kept them asleep only worked because they hadn’t been fully awake in the first place. Once the horror was finished with the empire, it would undoubtedly turn its attention to the rest of the world – and the rest of the world would soon follow the empire into oblivion.
Setting aside the fact that he wasn’t insane and that butchering millions of imperial civilians was evil on a scale even his master might have baulked at, Timmy also enjoyed living. He was not going to go down in history – whatever was left of it – as the idiot who’d actually ushered in the apocalypse. People already disliked necromancers. Attempting to end the world would only kick off another purge.
The only trouble Sam had encountered was the wanderings of some of the hatchlings. A few of them had wandered as far as the magic of the castle would let them go. They hadn’t eaten any of the villagers – one of the older horrors had noticed and had intervened in time – but they’d given them a good scare. It was a bit troublesome. If Timmy got his pardon, he’d become a mostly law-abiding citizens, and having creatures he was responsible for eating random villagers would not be a good look. Still, they hadn’t done any permanent damage.
“Don’t worry,” Timmy said. “I’m not mad. They’re basically children. Heck, Spot almost ate a few of the villagers when he first met them. Just try to keep a closer eye on them.” Timmy grinned. “I know you’re eating cake right now, but we can have more after dinner. The dwarves have their own kinds of cakes, and I asked Gerald to save you some.” He grimaced. “But we need to talk about cosmic fungi. We had a pretty nasty encounter with some, and we’re likely to run into them again when we help the dwarves mop up some more goblins. I’d like to know as much as I can, so I’ll be better prepared the next time I see them. We can do that while we’re eating cake later.”
The protoplasmic horror made a gesture of happiness and agreement before phasing through the floor. Like Timmy, he had many things to do, but he wasn’t going to say no to more cake. As for the cosmic fungi, it was likely there were other horrors that knew about them too, so Sam would probably bring them along to enjoy some cake while they offered advice. Any countermeasures Timmy could come up with would be of great help to the dwarves. Without their eldritch masters and with so many of their leaders dead, the goblins should be less dangerous although their sheer numbers would still pose a threat.
With affairs of a more unearthly nature well in hand, Timmy turned his attention to a far more earthly concern: paperwork. And who better to help him than his apprentice? Over the next few hours, he and Katie worked through the piles of paperwork and administration that had built up while they were gone. It was at times like this that Timmy liked to give himself a self-congratulatory pat on the back with one of his favourite zombies. Few necromancers bothered to train their apprentices in paperwork lest they grow too confident and supplant them, but Timmy had no such concerns. Once the apprentice realised how onerous paperwork was, keeping their master around made perfect sense. Otherwise, they’d have to do it all themselves. Sure, paperwork was boring to teach, but it was also inevitable and absolutely relentless. Having two people to do it made it bearable if still highly unpleasant. The fact that Katie thought his handwriting was chicken scratch only motivated her to do even more than her fair share – and Timmy was only too happy to let her. His apprentice might be on the short side, but when it came to paperwork, she was a giant.
After a brief break for afternoon tea during which Spot had proudly shown off his latest treasure – a particularly shiny rock he’d found in a river while hunting with Chomp – Timmy sat down to talk to Daerin. The dwarf had been assigned to the castle for the duration of his rehabilitation period, which was a polite way of saying he was Timmy’s problem until he’d worked off his massive, massive debt to the Council. Of course, with war on the horizon, he’d have plenty of chances to get back into the good graces of both the Council and his brother. The king had actually given Timmy his blessing to cuff Daerin over the head if necessary, but Timmy was not keen on hitting the mechanically inclined dwarf. Daerin might not be as imposing as his brother, but he was no slouch in a fight either.
“So,” Timmy began. “You’ve had a chance to look around. What do you think?”
“This castle of yours is no mountain, but it’ll do.” The dwarf grinned. “More importantly, you’ve got plenty of space underground, and I can tell you’ve got a knack for logistics.”
“Did you have somewhere specific in mind?”
Daerin told him which cavern he wanted. “It’s secure but not too close to those… things you’ve got underneath the castle. I won’t deny how handy they are. Harvesting even a fraction of their power means you never have to worry about running out, but those cosmic fungi are still fresh in my mind.”
“I should introduce you to Sam and some of the others. The big ones – the ones that are sleeping – are truly beyond our comprehension, but some of the others are perfectly reasonable.”
“Well, give me some warning before you introduce them. Surprising a dwarf is a good way to get an axe in your skull. As for the cavern I mentioned, there’s plenty of air circulation, and it seems reasonably accessible. True, there are some bats in there, but I can live with those. They’re part of the charm, I suppose. It’s big, though, and that’s what matters. My equipment will take up lots of space, and I’ll be working on multiple projects too.” He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “I have plenty of ideas. Our battle against the empire and the cosmic fungi was… inspiring.”
“Keep in mind that if you want to test anything involving explosions, you should do so outside the castle. The demolition rats have a testing range you can use, and believe me, they’ve put it to the test.”
“Useful blighters, those ninja rats. They told me some of the ideas they wanted to try with my golems.” Daerin chuckled. “Golems that can shoot clouds of tiny explosives? It’s an interesting idea, and one that might succeed if I can work out a few kinks in some of their designs. I have to work out a deal with the star maiden and her dragon too although it’s probably best that we all keep calling her an elf.” He lowered his voice. “There hasn’t been a star maiden for centuries. It could be troublesome if the wrong people find out.”
“What do you need them for?”
“We dwarves are masters of metallurgy and smithing, but we’ve always been limited by the tools at our disposal, which is why we have crafted better and better tools. However, we’ve never been able to consistently reproduce the incredible heat of dragon fire. Oh, we can mimic it with the right magic and equipment, but only for a moment and not with the control we need to do our best work. But you’ve got a dragon and a star maide
n. There are things I can try now that no dwarf has ever been able to do more than dream about.”
Timmy nodded. He was aware of certain formulas – he’d paid handsomely to get them, in fact – that could supposedly create rare alloys using dragon fire. He had experienced some extremely limited success with the easiest of the formulas although he’d been forced to use his zombies to run the experiments. The handful of substances that could mimic dragon fire were extremely volatile to work with, and they were prone to exploding, melting, or otherwise fatally injuring whoever worked with them. More importantly, none of them could offer the sustained, controlled heat that Spot or Avraniel could manage with ease.
“What kind of ideas do you have?”
“Plenty. The first one I’d like to try concerns an alloy that the dwarves of the old spoke of, an alloy forged in the fire of a star-born dwarf. Such an alloy was used to create the axe my brother wields, which has never needed to be sharpened or honed despite being thousands of years old. Similar substances were used to make other legendary dwarf weapons, like the Mountain Cracker.”
“Interesting.” The Mountain Cracker was a weapon wielded by one of the legendary dwarf kings of the ancient days, Terin the Smasher. It was said to be able to crack a mountain open with a single blow, and it was supposedly responsible for the great fissures around Cavernholme. “Let me know if you need anything. If you can make something even a fraction as powerful as the Mountain Cracker, it could be tremendously useful in the war, especially if you can mass produce it.” The thought of a small army of dwarves attacking the empire with mountain-cracking hammers brought a distinctly shark-like smile to his face. He would definitely pay money to see that.
“By the way,” Daerin said. “Here is a list of things I need to get started. It’s been a while since I’ve had a permanent workshop. Can you get everything?”
Timmy scanned the list quickly. “Most of this is easy enough to acquire. I can either get it in Everton or have it brought in from elsewhere.” He continued reading. “But some of the more exotic metals are going to be harder. I can still get them, but the quantities you want will be difficult to obtain. With a war right around the corner, there has been a lot of hoarding and price gouging. I’ll see what I can do – and that’s assuming nobody tries to seize any of the major mines. As for the other things, gems and crystals should be relatively easy to get although, again, the quantities you want might be troublesome. I do have a decent supply of those, so if you can explain what you’re using them for, I might be willing to share. As for the dragon bones and scales, we have plenty of those.”
“Oh?” Daerin’s eyes gleamed. “From Black Scales, right?”
“Yes, and Spot sheds scales regularly. Since he’s part of the team, we pay him for them although he does give us a discount since he lives here and we are working with him to produce and market products that rely on dragon scales. We’ve only just started, but it should end up becoming extremely profitable. Dragon scales are incredibly rare – fresh ones even more so – and acquiring them usually means risking horrible, fiery death. Spot, however, offers a much safer alternative.”
Timmy was hoping Spot would have a better grasp of how finance worked by the time the money started rolling in, but knowing Spot, the only rolling the dragon would be doing would be in the pile of pile of valuables he had stored at the bank. Then again, Spot might be more interested in finance once he realised that he could use financial principles to turn a lot of money into an absolutely obscene quantity of money.
“Having a friendly dragon around seems very useful,” the dwarf mused. “Imagine what you could do with two.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, and if we did try to raise another dragon, Avraniel would be the one doing most of the work. She’s the only reason he didn’t immediately attack us after hatching, not to mention she acts like a dragon would, right down to giving him the occasional whack if he gets too rowdy. You don’t see it much because he’s well behaved, but it does happen from time to time. Obviously, it would be cruel for her to whack a normal child, but that’s how dragons deal with their young in the wild. Spot might be young but he’s already so tough and durable that a whack isn’t going to do any damage. In fact, it’s the quickest way to get his attention if he’s misbehaving, and trust me, letting a young dragon get away with bad behaviour is a recipe for disaster because he is going to get bigger – a lot bigger. There are numerous accounts of adult dragons biting and snapping at their young to keep them in line. The worst Avraniel has ever had to do was to give him a whack on the flank when he tried to take a bite out of one of the villagers. For the most part, Spot is a very well behaved dragon with a cheerful and friendly personality. There’s no guarantee we’ll be that lucky a second time. We might get a nasty one, and then what would we do?”
“Good point.” Daerin shuddered. Like all dwarves, he had a healthy respect for dragons. They had dealt with enough of them in the past to know how dangerous they could be. “To be honest, I can’t even imagine whacking a dragon. The only way I’m attacking a dragon is from inside a mountain with the biggest magical weapon I can build.” He extended one hand to Timmy. “This isn’t how I expected things to work out, but it might be nice having a place to stay instead of moving around all the time.” They shook hands, and his lips twitched. “You’re not bad for a necromancer. You clearly don’t have a problem with dwarves, and at least this way, my brother won’t have a chance to boss me around, that nit-picking bastard.”
“It’s the simple things in life, isn’t it?”
* * *
Timmy peered at Spot. “Okay… you’re definitely bigger than the last time.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Katie said as the dragon preened. Every inch he grew brought him closer to becoming a winged leviathan capable of incinerating entire nations.
“Given his age, it’s not surprising that he’s growing so quickly although I still can’t work out any sort of pattern. His growth will accelerate for a couple of weeks, ease up, and then accelerate again. Oh well. Draconic growth rates aren’t exactly well understood. There could be all sorts of underlying processes at work that we simply don’t know about.” Timmy rubbed his chin. He’d begun shaving regularly again now that they were no longer in the Broken Mountains. “I know you think this is boring, Spot, but you’re the first young dragon that anyone has been able to study – possibly ever – without worrying about being eaten. We need to properly document your growth in case anyone else ever manages to pull this off, and I don’t know if we’ll ever get this chance again.”
More dragons? Spot had noticed that most people had siblings. He didn’t have any siblings although Chomp was his friend and Katie was also a hatchling. However, she was Timmy’s hatchling. That sounds fun.
“For you maybe – and you’ll have to ask your mother about it.” The thought of having another dragon in the castle was both terrifying and comforting. Given how strong Spot already was, adding a second dragon would make his castle practically invincible. However, there were two potential problems: what if the dragon they added was not friendly, and what would they do when Spot and the other dragon got older and bigger? Timmy could extend the outcrop or hire other mages to help him expand it, but the food bill would be astronomical. He pursed his lips. He’d definitely have to keep the forest the way it was. It might be dark and scary in some places, but it was also very large and full of things that dragons could eat. “Okay. Let’s start off with some basic measurements.”
He had Spot stretch out, and Katie dutifully took careful note of his length with tape measure before measuring his wingspan and various other areas. Like any good necromancer, she had a deep appreciation for anatomy and physiology, and the odd developmental pattern Spot had display fascinated her, as did his changing proportions. Spot was around eight feet long now, and although his growth had slowed, at least for the time being, they were beginning to see a more streamlined shape emerge. Within a year, Timmy was certain Spot would
look more like a normal dragon rather than the caricature of one he currently resembled. Astral dragons, in particular, were known for their slender, graceful appearance although corruption dragons tended to have a stockier build.
Interestingly, Spot’s wings weren’t growing quite as fast as the rest of him, possibly because they were already bigger than they needed to be. However, they were changing in shape, adopting what Timmy felt was both a more menacing and more aerodynamic form. Spot’s tail had also begun to lengthen although it was still a bit stubby. As for his head, Spot was beginning to grow into his teeth, which still seemed a little too big for him.
“Let’s take a look at those claws of yours,” Timmy murmured. “And can you pass me the plaster, Katie?” She handed him the plaster, and he carefully took moulds of each of Spot’s claws. He also used a different mixture to take moulds of Spot’s extremely impressive teeth. Good grief. It was no wonder Spot could shred a cow. His teeth were incredibly large and sharp. “Well, your claws are as sharp as ever, but I’m starting to see more of the variable joint behaviour in them, which confirms a few theories I’ve read about.”
“Really?” Katie leaned closer to examine Spot’s claws, and she gave him a few cookies to keep him occupied. He was a bundle of energy, and feeding him was one of the few ways to keep him still. “You’re right!”
From what Timmy had observed – and Spot currently constituted a massive sample size of one – young dragons did not have claws that were well suited to holding things. It was largely due to how their ‘fingers’ worked. However, over the past month or so, Timmy had noticed a subtle shift in the way Spot’s fingers worked. The joints could relax, allowing Spot to make smaller, more precise movements. Spot’s fingers weren’t the same as human fingers, but they could get close enough to let Spot pick up and manipulate things like cutlery, albeit with difficulty. The default configuration of the joints was the one Spot used in combat, which made them far stronger and better for clawing, swiping, and stabbing. It was the equivalent of how a human could make a fist to do more damage except dragons started off that way.
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