The Blood Stone

by Jason J. Nugent

  “The Blood Stone?”

  Lailoken nodded. “That’s what he said.”

  Driano stroked his chin absently.

  “We do this and we’re set for life?” Jor asked, sloshing her ale.

  “Aye, for life!” Lailoken replied raising his mug high.

  “For life!” Jor replied, smashing her mug against Lailoken’s.

  “Come, let’s get going, then. Before the both of you make fools of yourselves,” Darlonn said.

  “Let me ask around first and see if my friend is still here in Woodpine,” Driano said.

  “Another mug wouldn’t hurt. More ale!” Jor shouted, the group cheering her call. Darlonn shook his head and smiled.

  “Do what you must, Magus. You have until we finish this drink,” Lailoken said.

  Driano left the table and began asking around the tavern. Finally he ended at a table at the far end. A man looked past the Magus toward Lailoken and the group, making him squirm. They weren’t supposed to share their hunt. Hopefully Driano could keep his mouth shut. He watched as the Magus pointed at them and nodded, reaching into his robe and handing the man a drac. The man grinned and left the tavern.

  Driano returned to the table to find Lailoken nearly done with his ale.

  “He is still here. My new friend is off to fetch him for us. It’s best if we don’t do this in here.”

  Driano led them out the tavern and across the dark street near the boarded-up bakery.

  “My new friend asked us to wait here.”

  “I don’t like this,” Darlonn said, reaching into his belt for his knife.

  “I don’t think we have a choice. If we can get any clue, it’s better than what we have now,” Driano replied.

  Moments later, the man from the tavern approached, leading an older man in a tattered robe behind him.

  “Here he is, like I promised,” the man grumbled, his voice like rocks. Driano gave him a drac and the man left, whistling at his good fortune. When he was gone, they turned to the frightened old man.

  “Frendule?” Driano asked. “Frendule, is that you?”

  The old man’s wild eyes darted back and forth, peering at the group. “Aye, Frendule, I am.”

  “You were exiled from the Black Tower years ago,” Driano said.

  “Driano? Are you him?”

  The Magus nodded.

  “I bear no ill will to you, Driano, nor the Order. I did what I thought right and still follow my wit. No matter, no matter.”

  The man’s nervous tics caught Lailoken’s eye. “Why are you afraid?” he asked, his words barely audible. His world was spinning and he saw two of the old man standing in front of him.

  “I fear he’s after me.”

  “Who?” Darlonn asked.

  “Menos. He’s angry with me. I went south across the mountains.”

  Lailoken laughed. “Menos would be angry with many Tregarons, if that’s the case!”

  “Aye, that be true, but I was one of his chosen.”

  “Frendule, do you know of a place called the Opaline Mountain? I assume it’s a peak within the Dragonback, but which one? Surely someone as wise as you has heard of such a place,” Driano asked, wasting no time.

  Frendule’s eyes widened.

  “What do you ask? What do you seek? Terror! Terrible things. Menos preserve us!”

  “Calm yourself, old friend. We seek—”

  “We hunt a dragon,” Lailoken interjected, aware enough to know Driano nearly shared their secret.

  “A dragon? In the Opaline? You seek something worse,” Frendule whispered.

  “Please, my old friend, can you help us?”

  He looked around and quietly spoke. “The Opaline Mountain. I know what you seek. There’s only one reason to go there.”

  “You know?” Driano asked. “Tell us, man!”

  “It’s wrong. No man should have that power. None!”

  “Stop the games. If you have something to share, share it. If not, let us be on our way,” Darlonn said, a touch of anger in his voice.

  “Come on, old man; no games,” Lailoken added.

  “It’s no longer Opaline Mountain. It no longer shines bright. It’s stained with the blood of the dead.”

  “No riddles! Tell us what you know,” Driano said. He approached Frendule and grabbed his robe. “Tell us now.”

  “That’s all, nothing more. I must go,” he said, looking past Driano’s angry face to the rest of the group. “I can’t stay. I must leave now!” He wrestled his robe free of Driano’s grip and scurried away, fading into the darkness

  “Hey, wait!” Ori called and ran out after him. A few moments later, he reappeared. “He’s gone. What did all that mean?”

  “It means we have work to do in the morning, after these two sober up,” Darlonn said. “Come, let’s put this aside and find rest for the night.”

  Darlonn helped Lailoken to the Inn while Tozgan kept Jor upright until he could drop her off at her room. The slayers and the Magus retired to their rooms for the night.

  CHAPTER

  Fifteen

  The next morning rose with a crispness in the air. It was late summer but already the days were turning. It was an unusual break in the weather, but it was welcome, nonetheless. The stifling heat drained their energy and they needed everything they had if they were to endure what lay ahead.

  Lailoken’s head pounded. The ale from the previous night had flowed steadily, and for once, he let it. There were too many thoughts swirling in his mind and the ale numbed them all in a welcome respite. However, he was paying for it now. Jor looked to be in the same situation, moving slow with her head hung low. He entered the common room and sat at a table with his group, a warm cup of tea placed in front of him by the innkeeper.

  “Let’s get moving. We have a gem to find and dragons to slay,” Lailoken said to the rest as they were in the common room eating warm bowls of porridge and enjoying imported fruit from the south. Most of Tregaron avoided trade with the south, but Woodpine, the last town before the mountains, had enjoyed a brisk trade with them since well before the reformation. The Verdant Tower defied the rest of the Order by their continued contact with the southern lands. They were also the chief supplier of available food for most of Tregaron because of the Green Magus’s abilities with nature, something that had been pushed to its limits in the past few years.

  “Where’s Driano and Belthos?” Lailoken asked, rubbing his temple. How much ale did I drink? he wondered.

  “Went to the Tower. I guess they’re trying to sell those gems,” Tozgan said.

  “If they delay us—”

  “We won’t,” Driano said entering the common room. “Though, if those damn Verdant Magus would pay fair price, I wouldn’t have had to haggle as much as I did. No matter, it’s done.”

  “Gather your things. We leave within the hour,” Lailoken said. He drank the rest of his tea and went to his room, his stomach not agreeing much with anything at the moment. After he packed his bag and strapped on his sword, he met the rest of the group outside the inn.

  “We go through the wall and into our destiny. Come, let’s go.” Lailoken led them across the slowly wakening town toward the large wooden wall that stretched from sea to sea across the southern border of Tregaron. Woodpine anchored the western end and Fearglen was at the eastern end. Guards from both towns patrolled the wall, expecting an invasion from the south at any time.

  “You sure you can lead us?” Darlonn asked with a smile. “You were pretty drunk last night. Same with you, Jor. How’s your head this morning?”

  Jor growled her answer and Lailoken continued along the streets.

  “I’m leading us now, aren’t I?” Lailoken replied. Darlonn laughed and said nothing more.

  They approached the gate leading out to the mountains, and after Driano was forced to give up a few of the coins he’d earned from the sale of the gems, they were through the gate staring at the mountain range ahead.

  “I swear, if I lose all
my coins to this expedition, I’ll make the Kull repay me with interest,” Driano grumbled.

  “I’m sure he’ll have plenty to give,” Lailoken said. “This way.” He led them toward the main pass leading through the plain into the forest at the foot of the mountains. The snow-covered peaks rose high above them as they grew closer to entering the majestic region where dragons lurked and man hunted. Dragonfire Peak loomed high overhead, a beacon for weary slayers.

  “This is our destination,” Lailoken said, waving toward the mountains. They stretched east to west for as far as they could see.

  Ori spoke. “How will we find a cave in that?” He pointed at the mountains looming before them.

  “I never said it would be easy. It will be difficult, but we’re the best and the best don’t give up,” Lailoken replied.

  “Nor do we wait for a hangover to pass,” Jor said, making Belthos laugh and earning a swift backhand from Driano.

  “Where in that is Opaline Mountain?” Darlonn asked. “It could be any of those.”

  “According to Frendule, it’s no longer called Opaline Mountain. He says it’s stained with blood,” Driano said.

  “Dragonfire Peak,” Tozgan whispered.

  “You mean you believe that crazy old man?” Jor asked.

  “Before he was exiled, that ‘crazy old man’ was a librarian in the Verdant Tower. He knew our history better than most. He spent days in the library reading ‘til he soiled his own clothes because he wouldn’t leave,” Driano said.

  Belthos wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

  “But why listen to him now? He doesn’t seem to be in control of his mind. Did you see him?” Jor asked.

  “True, he may not have all his faculties anymore, but from what I remember of the man, he had a head full of useless knowledge that might just have been useful to us. I think the young crossbowman is right. Dragonfire Peak is our most likely destination.”

  Lailoken ran a hand through his long hair. “Unless anyone objects, I think that might be the best place to start.” None voiced dissent. “To Dragonfire Peak, then.”

  A wide-open field ran along the southern side of the wall creating a clear line of sight for those that patrolled it above. On the other side of the clearing was a forest stretching far beyond their view.

  The dense forest took most of the day to travel and teemed with life. Rising from the green was a rocky path that twisted around the mountain’s base. They entered the base of the mountain, the forest giving way to barren rock.

  The treacherous path was lined with loose stones and sheer cliffs. The ground was hard and the air grew colder. It wasn’t long before they were shivering from the vicious winds swirling through the towering mountains. Lailoken looked back and barely made out the wall on the other side of the forest. Driano grumbled and moaned, Lailoken scolding him several times to quit complaining.

  “Would you rather be home sucking on the teat of a boar?” he called behind him. The man was relentless in his whining. He could have sent me someone other than him, Lailoken said to himself then gave up the thought. It was no use complaining or wishing for what he didn’t have. Wishes didn’t come true. Only actions with a purpose achieved anything.

  Higher and higher they climbed, leaving the warmth and comfort of Tregaron behind for an unknown and frigid future.

  Lailoken pushed them hard, not allowing many breaks. He wanted to reach a plain Jor spotted before nightfall. Otherwise, they’d have to navigate the tricky passages in the dark. Even with moonlight to guide them, it was far too dangerous to try their luck.

  When they finally approached the plain, sunlight barely clung to the land. “Thank you, Menos,” Lailoken whispered.

  “I’ll take Ori and find wood for a fire,” Darlonn said.

  Lailoken, Jor, Belthos, and Tozgan busied themselves with setting up camp while Driano watched the activity.

  “You could always help you know,” Jor grumbled.

  “That’s why I have a novice. He’s learning our ways and takes care of trivial things such as this.”

  Darlonn and Ori returned and soon made a fire large enough to warm them. When it died down a little, Darlonn prepared a quick meal of porridge.

  Afterwards, they sat around the fire warming themselves. They were quiet, as though the gravity of the situation was finally weighing on them. Lailoken stood, intending to break the mood with a joke when a terrible familiar sound interrupted him.

  “A dragon,” he whispered. The beast roared again and the slayers jumped to their feet and scrambled for their weapons.

  “Careful, we may have company soon. Crossbowmen, to me. Everyone else, spread out. We may yet have a kill this day.” Ori and Tozgan took their positions to either side of Lailoken as Darlonn went right and Jor, left.

  The dragon roared again, circling them.

  “Tozgan, be ready. Ori, watch your side. The moment we see it, fire. I won’t let it get the better of us.”

  A streak of fire suddenly burst forth above them in the night sky.

  “Driano, enchantment!” A slow warmth spread over them. Lailoken only hoped it prevented the dragon flames from burning them alive.

  “Fire, now! Shoot the Garnet!” Lailoken yelled. Both crossbowmen let loose their missiles. Ori’s went wide to the left and Tozgan’s punctured the dragon’s wing, causing it to spiral downward.

  “Great shot! Ready your weapons for another!” Ori and Tozgan quickly reloaded their crossbows and cranked them back, preparing for another chance at glory. The dragon righted itself and sounded more furious than before. It roared and spit flame in the sky, twisting its head back and forth and turning the black sky into flame. Fortunately for the slayers, it illuminated its position.

  “Fire now!”

  Tozgan shot first, then Ori. This time, Tozgan’s shot nicked the dragon’s wing, but Ori’s missile pierced the dragon’s abdomen, the heavy bolt lodging within its thick hide.

  The dragon bellowed a loud, painful roar, clutching at the wound. It fell from the sky in an enormous crash to the field before them.

  “Now! Earn your glory! Go now!” Lailoken shouted. He raced toward the downed dragon as did Darlonn and Jor, ready to converge on the Garnet dragon to claim their prize.

  Jor reached it first, her blade raised to strike when the dragon breathed flames at her, forcing her back. Darlonn was next, Lailoken barely able to tell what their plan of attack was. Darlonn slashed with his sword in a weak blow and the dragon shrugged it off. Racing around the flames, Jor followed with a vicious slice of her broadsword, and their tactic paid off. While the Garnet was busy deflecting Darlonn’s strike, Jor’s was left wide open and easily slit the dragon’s hide along its back. The Garnet turned and exhaled fiery fury, narrowly missing Jor.

  Lailoken drew closer to the dragon and it breathed an immense wall of fire between itself and the three slayers. Then, a brilliant flash of white erupted behind the flames and the dragon’s roar ceased, replaced by the howling of a man.

  “Stop, stop. I yield! I ask mercy! Stop this at once!” the man screamed in pain.

  Darlonn turned to Lailoken. “It shifted?”

  “I yield! Call off your attack. I’m yours!”

  The flame wall dissipated and a naked boy lay on the ground, twisting and writhing in pain.

  “Please, call off the hunt. I yield. I relent!” The naked boy turned to face the slayers.

  “Who are you?” Lailoken asked.

  “Please, stop the hunt! I mean no harm. I was curious, that’s all.” The boy, maybe thirteen, clutched his side where the bolt had driven into his flesh, though now in his human form it no longer protruded from his body but lay next to him still covered in thick blood.

  “I ask again. Who are you? Say nothing and we will slaughter you.”

  Jor stood near the boy, her sword ready to sever his head from his body.

  “My name…my name is Indrar, son of Etain.”

  Lailoken’s anger boiled inside. Was the boy trying to
ignite his fury? He was dangerously close.

  “I don’t know the names you speak of,” Lailoken replied.

  The boy pushed himself to sit upright, still clutching his side.

  “I think you do,” he replied.

  Darlonn and Jor were in shock, staring at the dragon-boy. Driano stepped closer, the gem around his neck glowing faintly.

  Indrar held out a bloody hand and a ball of flame ignited the night, hovering above them.

  “Please don’t make me. I don’t want to harm you. Any of you. I was only curious. I meant no harm.” His voice was weak and young.

  “Wait!” Lailoken called, forcing Driano to halt and turn his way. “What did you mean by curious? Why’d you come for us?”

  The boy shook on the ground, a large pool of blood growing around him.

  “My father told me I’d find my mother’s human mate in the mountains. He told me about…you.”

  Lailoken’s fury blazed inside and it showed on his face. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks.

  “How dare you say such blasphemy! My wife was no dragon! She was stolen by your kind!”

  Indrar stood on shaky legs, his entire body exposed. If any of the slayers had a desire to slaughter the dragon-boy, he was in no shape to stop them. “I know you men of the north find it hard to reconcile humans with dragons, but it’s not uncommon and it’s not an abomination. I was hoping I’d find information about my half-sister Alushia.”

  Lailoken could no longer control his rage and rushed Indrar, his broadsword raised to strike. Indrar took a step back and held up his hands, creating a shield of flames. Lailoken nearly ran into it, stopping just as his beard singed and smoked.

  “I’ll tear you limb from limb! How dare you speak lies to me!”

  “Sir, I mean no disrespect. I only mean to find the truth. I’m not here to sow discontent. Please, forgive me for angering you.”

  “Come out here and fight me! Die honorably!” Lailoken screamed, spit flying from his mouth. His arms shook; a vein stuck out on his forehead. The flames didn’t fade, and his sword reflected their brightness in the dark.

  “I cannot. I will not. Etain forbids us to harm you in any way. Even if I wanted to, I cannot touch you. One day, you’ll understand all of this. You’ll understand why we are who we are. And why Etain had to leave. I’m sorry, sir, I cannot tarry long.”