Dream Magic (17 page)

“The
dragon—did another escape this plug?”

“No, fool,”
Harrdin said. “It was not escaping. It was clawing its way back
into
the cavern below us. Not out of it.”

“I thought the seals could not be broken by a
dragon. Isn’t that why you people place them over entrances like this?”

“Not exactly,” said Harrdin, seemingly in good mood for once. As he spoke further, he dug in his pack for something. “Y
ou see, the plugs can’t keep a determined dragon at bay. They can keep other things from slipping in and out, however, like kobolds, dragon young and the like. But they let the dragons know where the boundary lies, where Kindred territory begins. They usually respect that boundary.”

As Trev watched, Harrdin found some pitons and a hammer. He went to the wall of the tunnel on either side and drove a spike into the rock. Then he looped a rope over each
spike and threw the cables of Trev’s net over the rope.

“You intend to lower me into that hole?” Trev asked with eyes wide and a voice that broke high.

Harrdin chuckled. “I suppose I could just kick you in, if you’d rather.”

Trev gazed at the hole with grim fascination. Wisps of smoke and an unpleasant smell that reminded him of burnt matchsticks rose up from it. The hole in the plug was as dark as midnight at the bottom of a well.

Before he could speak further, he was hoisted up and lowered unceremoniously into the hole. He squirmed and slashed at the rope at the last moment, desperate to do anything to take charge of his fate, but the effort failed.

When the cables were at full length, the grunting Warrior above him
moved about, causing shifting shadows and light. Trev felt helpless. He had no idea how deep the hole was. When at last Harrdin dropped him, would he fall a foot or a mile? It was so dark down here, hung and suspended over nothing, he could not tell what the truth might be.

Determined not to beg or cry out, he only sucked in his breath in
a hissing gust when the cables ran out and Harrdin got tired of lowering him gently. Trev felt himself falling. He crashed down on the rough stone a good ten feet farther below.

With the wind knocked out of him, he struggled to get to his knees. Frantically, he worked at the steel net, but it was beyond his strength and skill in the blackness to open the tightly cinched
bag-like entrance.

Above him, Harrdin had hooked another cable and was lowering himself by rasping inches. When at last he stood near Trev, the half-elf lunged, thrusting his dagger for the legs again. But the Warrior was wary this time and avoided the attack.

“Huh, you’ve still got some fight in you, I’ll give you that much,” Harrdin said. He then proceeded to kick and cuff Trev until he lay panting on the floor in his net.

The cables were drawn taut again, and the dragging went on. Now, however, Trev was beginning to feel real fear.

There was a sense of unnatural doom about this forbidding place. He’d never been in the lair of a great beast before, and so he had nothing to compare it to. But he did think to himself this must be how a cow felt when it entered the butcher’s abattoir.

The floor of the tunnel was slick, rather than dusty. It felt like smooth, melted glass. Fused into the glass were strange artifacts which he bumped against as they passed by. Boots, melted right into the stone. Bone shards sticking up at odd angles. Everything was burned and smelled of melted fat, brimstone and sulfur.

Ahead, a light source grew as they passed a kink in the tunnel. This light source was a lurid red in color, and the sensation of fantastic heat just around the corner grew and grew until they rounded it—and he felt the full, searing effect as if a blast-furnace door had been opened and his face was shoved close to the breach.

There, that had to be it
! A huge shape that glimmered like a giant dying coal the size of a cottage. Was it made of stone, metal, or flesh? How could the dragon stand its own heat?

“Hail,
dragon!” Harrdin shouted, his voice echoing and loud in the still chamber, “I’ve brought you the half-breed, as I promised.”

“I smell it,” said a
deep voice.

At first, when the
dragon spoke, Trev could not understand the words. They were
too
bass, too resonant. Each word sounded as if fingers had been drawn across a bowstring. But after the words were uttered and his mind was given a moment to digest the sounds, he found he could separate the tones into words.

“Bring it to me. Fulfill our bargain.”

“Hold Lady,” said Harrdin. “Tell me what I must know.”

Lady?
thought Trev. It was only at that moment he realized the dragon was female.

There was a stirring in the chamber. A plume of hot ash rose up, and Trev felt it touch his skin and burn there. The
dragon had shifted and turned.

There! Eyes like
green jets of flame, scales shining blue.

She
regarded them both. The intellect in that alien face was terrifying. In that single instant, Trev was sorry he’d ever left his mother’s house. He was too young, too inexperienced. It was just as the adults had warned him. He was ashamed, and angry.

“I will tell you of the Jewels,” said the dragon. “
One by one. But you must come closer, and bring my prize.”

“Humph,” grumbled Harrdin. “I see no point to these shenanigans.
Tell me something first.”

“
As a sign of good will, I’ll begin,” she replied. “The first Jewel to appear in recent times was that of Vaul, the Green. A good soul—some say the best of us.”

Trev frowned at this.
The best of
us
? Did the dragon think she was somehow related to the Jewels? He’d been given to understand this was a twisted myth from the past.

Grumbling, Harrdin hauled Trev closer with ill-grace. “On with it.”

The dragon mentioned each of the Jewels in turn. Lavatis the Blue, which powered the skies and the rains, and which manifested itself as a rainbow from time to time. That was in the hands of Tomkin now, but the Blue had languished in Trev’s grandfather’s possession for much longer in the past.

The dragon continued her list
, speaking of each Jewel at length. There was Ambros the Golden, which powered Brand’s Axe and filled its wielder’s eyes with the madness of battle. Osang the Lavender, which Old Hob used to sail silently through the night. The Red Jewel, which always appeared as a tiny bloodhound and thirsted for the blood of all living things. That monstrous Jewel sought to re-form life into abominations of a twisted nature. Pyros the Orange could burn stone. Necron the Black ruled over the Dead—

The
dragon stopped speaking, and Harrdin stopped approaching the blazing green eyes. Trev had been listening to its words with fascination. Along the way, he’d learned the name and power of each Jewel, and who carried them now. He was fascinated despite himself. There were details to the lore he’d never heard from any other being. He learned, for example, that the Black Jewel was now in the possession of a young necromancer named Slet. He’d always been told the Black was entombed in the Drake Crypt. How had it gotten out and when, he could only wonder.

“Don’t stop now,”
Trev said suddenly. “There are only two left. Tell us of them.”

Both Harrdin and the
dragon regarded him in surprise.

“I’d thought the creature had been knocked senseless,” the
dragon said. “But it squeaks with vigor. You’ve done better than I’d hoped you would, Kindred traitor.”

“Traitor?” barked Harrdin suddenly.

“What else would you call one that waylays a friend and drags him to his death?”

“This half-breed bounder
was never a friend of mine!”

“
A dupe then, a kidnapped babe?”

Trev wondered at the
dragon’s reluctance in discussing the last two Jewels. He almost opened his mouth to ask again, but kept quiet for once. His two enemies seemed to be antagonized with one another and even he could see it was time to leave them undistracted.

“He
was
never
a friend of mine!” insisted Harrdin.

“Ah, does
a lack of friendship make it acceptable to break a bargain? To go back on a deal arranged and agreed to?”

“What are you getting at,
dragon? Fulfill your sworn words! Tell me of the last two Jewels! Where are they, and who possesses them?”

“
First, I would understand Kindred honor,” the dragon said. “Just consider it a courtesy on your part to explain it to me. I’m giving so much—surely you would do this one thing for me in return?”

Harrdin stood tall and straightened his cloak. At his
belt hung the traditional battle axe of his folk. Trev eyed him and sensed he was still prideful, despite his trespasses against his own code of honor.

“I told the manling I would bring it to a
dragon who would tell us of the Jewels. That is happening even now. I’ve broken no deals with it, as I did not guarantee its safety, nor pledge to protect it.”

“
Manling…It…”
echoed the dragon. “Very curious wording.”

“Why?”

“Because twisted words such as these are the marks of the eighth stone, which I will now tell you of: The White. It is a shard of the original whole Sunstone, you see. Among all the Jewels, it is the most pure. Unlike the rest, it is a blend of all. It shines with all colors, and none at all. The White has the unique power to bend the mind of any living creature. Clearly it has bent yours, Harrdin of the Warriors.”

“I deny your
accusation. But tell me where the White is now.”

“In the Deepwood. Standing upon a mound,
hanging from the neck of its mistress. For it disguises itself as a clasp on a shimmering robe.”

Harrdin frowned. “Why does she stand upon a mound?”

The dragon laughed. The sound was like that of a boulder rolling down a mountainside. “Now you ask too much, for I know not. Maybe she awaits Twilight, so she may walk around the mound and travel someplace, or somewhen, else.”

Harrdin seemed upset by this answer. “She was to mee
t me in the Deepwood. She wasn’t to go anywhere.”

“
Perhaps she’s meeting another star-struck mooncalf like yourself. She has many suitors, you know.”

Harrdin lifted his battle
axe and shook it. “You’d best keep a civil tongue!”

The
dragon laughed again. “She shows vanity there! Let me guess: No one can offer her insult? You’ve been commanded to defend her honor as well as do her bidding? She takes things too far. Arrogance and pride proceed every fall. It’s a trait we dragon’s know all too well.”

Harrdin sputtered. Trev had listened at the feet of the other two for as long as he could stand it. Now, he spoke up at long last.

“Please great Lady, could you tell me of the last Jewel. What of the Quicksilver? Where does it lie, and who is its master?”

“Hmm,” said the
dragon, turning its head to look at Trev again. “A delicate question. But I’ve made no bargain with you, elf. I will not answer at your whim.”

Trev opened his mouth to ask another question, but an explosion of light bloomed in his head. Harrdin had brought the haft of his battle
axe down upon this crown.

Trev slumped and felt blood trickle into his mouth. He retained consciousness, but only barely.

“Talk to me then, as we agreed,” Harrdin demanded of the dragon.

“Very well, puppet,” the
dragon said. “But first, I’m afraid I must cut your strings.”

W
ithout further warning, the dragon’s huge claw plunged down and stepped on Harrdin. Raging and gasping, he was driven onto his back. The dragon leaned forward, dipping its great head. It stared into the Kindred’s face, and Trev thought to himself that the heat of that face and the weight of that foot must be unbearable.

Harrdin’s axe flashed upward toward the long, sinuous neck. The blow was a mighty one, but it sparked against the
blue scales and bounced off. Numb fingers lost their grip upon the weapon. It fell with a clatter into the bed of ash and stones that littered the lair.

“You seek to slay me?” asked the
dragon in mock surprise. “Don’t you wish to know where the last Jewel lies?”

“Speak then, honorless Beast!”

“Honorless? Where does this insult come from? We agreed you would bring me the half-breed, and that I would tell you of the Jewels in turn. No one said anything about leaving.”

“You clearly plan to devour me,” said Harrdin, breaking off
into a coughing fit, “the moment you tell me your last secret.”

“That’s true,” admitted
the dragon. “But I was under the impression that would fit with your code of honor rather nicely.”

“You twist my words and will be known to all as an oath-breaker!”