The Lake of Souls (17 page)

“Hey!” he protested.

“No more whiskey until this is over,” I told him. “You’re taking the next watch — and you’re taking it sober.”

“You can’t boss me about!” he griped.

“Yes, I can,” I growled. “This is serious business. I’m not having you fly off the handle like you did in the temple. You can have some whiskey before you go on watch, and when you come off, but between those times — not a drop.”

“And if I refuse?” he snarled, reaching toward his long curved knife.

“We’ll break the whiskey bottles,” I said simply, and his face went white.

“I’d kill ye if ye did!” he croaked.

“Aaarrr.” I grinned. “But that wouldn’t bring yer whiskey back!” Handing the bottle and sack to Harkat, I winked at Spits. “Don’t worry — when we’re through, you can drink all the whiskey you want.” Then I hurried forward to find a bush to hide behind and observe the dragons.

We kept watch for almost a week before accepting that we’d have to revise our plan. At least three dragons remained in the valley at any give time, usually the two young ones and a female, though sometimes the male took one of the youngsters hunting with him. There was no way of telling when the absent dragons would return — sometimes the male was gone overnight, while other times he’d sweep back to his family within minutes, a bleating sheep or goat clutched between his claws.

“We’ll just have to … sneak in one night and hope … they don’t spot us,” Harkat said as we debated our options. We were in a rough cave we’d dug in the soil of the hill, to hide us from the dragons when they took flight.

“Them dragons have awful good eyesight,” Spits said. “I seen ’em spot prey from hundreds o’ feet up on nights as black as a shark’s soul.”

“We could try burrowing to the Lake,” I suggested. “The soil isn’t hard-packed — I’m sure I could dig a way through.”

“And when you broke through … to the Lake?” Harkat asked. “The water would flood the tunnel … and we’d all drown.”

“We ain’t chancing that!” Spits said quickly. “I’d rather be ate by one o’ them demons than drowned!”

“There must be a way to get past them,” I groaned. “Maybe we could use the explosive Grotesque poison — wait until they’re grouped together, sneak up close and lob it among them.”

“I doubt we’d be able to … get close enough,” Harkat said. “And if even one of them survived …”

“If we had more’n one vial, we’d have nowt to worry about,” Spits sighed. “We could walk in and toss a vial at ’em any time they came near. Mebbe we should go back t’ the temple and search fer more vials.”

“No,” I frowned. “That’s not the answer — even if they didn’t blow up during the blast, they’d be buried under rubble. But you’re on to something. …” I took out my vial of “holy liquid” and examined it. “Mr. Tiny knew that we’d crash through the floorboards and make our way to the kitchen, so maybe he also knew we’d only grab a single vial.”

“Then one must be enough,” Harkat muttered, taking the vial from me. “There must be a way we can … use it to get to the Lake.”

“’Tis a pity Boom Boom Billy ain’t with us,” Spits chuckled. When we looked at him blankly, he explained. “Boom Boom Billy was a wonder with bombs. He knew all about dynamite and gunpowder, and how t’ blow things up. The cap’n often said Billy was worth his weight in gold.” Spits chortled. “Which made it all the funnier when he blew himself up trying t’ crack open a chest full of ingots!”

“You’ve got a warped sense of humor, Spits,” I sniffed. “I hope that one day you —” I stopped, eyes narrowing.
“Bombs!”
I exclaimed.

“You have an idea?” Harkat asked excitedly.

I shushed him with a wave of a hand, thinking furiously. “If we could make bombs out of the ‘holy liquid’ …”

“How?” Harkat asked. “We know nothing about … bombs, and even if we did, we don’t … have anything to make them with.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” I said slowly. Reaching inside my shirt, I took out the piece of cloth I’d wrapped my share of the gelatinous globes in, and carefully unrolled them on to the floor. Picking up a jelly-like ball, I squeezed it softly between my fingers, watching the thin liquid within ooze from side to side. “By themselves, these globes are worthless,” I said. “The ‘holy liquid’ is worthless too — by itself. But if we put them together …”

“Are you thinking of covering … the globes with the liquid?” Harkat asked.

“No,” I said. “It would drop off onto the ground and explode. But if we could inject it
into
the globes …” I trailed off into silence, sensing I was close to the answer, but unable to make the final leap in logic.

With a sudden grunt, Harkat beat me to the punch. “The tooth!” He dug through his robes for the bag of teeth he’d taken from the black panther.

“What’re they?” Spits asked, never having seen the teeth before.

Harkat didn’t answer, but sorted through them until he found the hollow tooth with the K carved on it. Holding it up, he blew through the tooth to make sure it was clear, then passed it to me, his green eyes shining brightly. “You have smaller fingers,” he said.

Picking up a globe, I brought the tip of the tooth close to it, then stopped. “We’d better not try this here,” I said. “If something goes wrong …”

“Agreed,” Harkat said, shuffling toward the mouth of the cave. “Besides, we’ll have to test them … to make sure they work. We’d best do that … out of earshot of the dragons.”

“What’re ye on about?” Spits whined. “Ye ain’t making sense!”

“Just follow close behind,” I winked. “You’ll see!”

We made our way to a copse of thick, stunted trees a couple miles away. Once there, Harkat and Spits huddled behind a fallen trunk, while I squatted in a clearing and laid several gelatinous globes and the panther’s tooth on the earth around me. With extreme care, I uncorked the vial of explosive poison. It smelled like cod-liver oil. I set the vial down, lay out flat on my stomach, and placed one of the globes directly in front of me. With my left hand, I gently jabbed the sharp, narrow end of the panther’s tooth into the globe. When it was sticking in a quarter of an inch, I picked up the vial with my right hand, brought its lip to the rim of the tooth, and poured.

I was sweating furiously as the first drops trickled into the tooth — if they exploded this close to my face, I was dead meat. But, like treacle, the liquid rolled slowly down the hole inside the tooth, then into the soft gelatinous globe.

I filled the tooth to the top — it didn’t hold very much — then removed the vial and waited for all the liquid to seep into the globe. It took a minute, but eventually the globe had absorbed all of the deadly poison from the tooth.

Keeping my hands steady, I removed the tip of the tooth from the top of the globe and held my breath, watching the jelly-like material close over the tiny hole, until it was no more than a pinprick in the skin of the globe. Once it had closed as far as it was going to, I corked the vial, set the tooth aside, and stood. “It’s done,” I called to Harkat and Spits.

Harkat crept over. Spits stayed where he was, eyes wide, hands over his head. “Take the vial and tooth,” I told Harkat. “Lay them where Spits is, so they’re out of harm’s way.”

“Do you want me to … come back to help?” Harkat asked.

I shook my head. “I can throw it further than you. I’ll test it myself.”

“But you’re a half-vampire,” he said. “You took a vow never to use … missile-firing weapons or bombs.”

“We’re on another world — as far as we know — and facing a bunch of dragons — I think this qualifies as an exceptional circumstance,” I said dryly.

Harkat grinned, then swiftly retreated with the vial, my share of the globes and the panther’s tooth. When I was alone, I crouched, took hold of the poison-filled globe, and cautiously picked it up. I winced as my fingers tightened around the globe, expecting it to blow up in my face — but it didn’t. I turned the globe over, to see if any of the liquid spilled out. Detecting no leaks, I stood, swung my arm back, then lobbed the globe at a gnarly tree in the distance.

The instant the globe was out of my hand, I ducked and covered my head with my hands, following the globe’s flight through the cracks between my fingers. It soared cleanly ahead, before connecting with the tree. When it hit the trunk, the shell of the globe smashed, the liquid splashed with great force over the wood, and the air was rent with the sound of a sharp explosion. My fingers snapped closed and I buried my face in the ground. When, a few seconds later, I raised my head and opened my eyes, I saw the top half of the tree topple over, torn to shreds in the middle.

Getting up slowly, I studied the shattered tree, then turned and smiled at Harkat and Spits, who were also on their feet. Taking a cocky bow, I hooted, “Move over Boom Boom Billy — there’s a new kid in town!”

Then Harkat and Spits were racing toward me, whooping with excitement, eager to make some bombs of their own.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

E
ARLY AFTERNOON THE NEXT DAY
. We’d been waiting for the male dragon to go hunting. Ideally, we’d like to have waited until he took one of the females or young dragons with him, but he usually only made short trips when accompanied. Our best bet was to make our move when he was off hunting by himself, in the hope that he wouldn’t return while we were in the valley.

Finally, near the end of my watch, the dragon unfurled his long wings and took to the sky. I hurried off to alert Harkat and Spits.

We’d filled the remaining thirty-two globes with liquid from the vial. The vial was still about a third full, and I carried it in my shirt, keeping it in reserve. Harkat and I had divided the globes between us, giving none to Spits, even though he’d argued bitterly for a share. There were two reasons why we kept the globes from him. First, it was our aim to scare off the dragons, not kill them. Neither of us wished to destroy such mystical, marvelous creatures, and we couldn’t trust Spits not to go bomb-happy. The second reason was that we needed him to concentrate on fishing. The pirate had held on to his net, despite all we’d been through — he had it wrapped around his chest — and he was the best qualified to fish for Harkat’s soul. (We weren’t sure what form the souls in the Lake would take, or how we’d recognize Harkat’s, but we’d worry about that when —
if
! — we got there.)

“Ready?” I asked, crawling out of our makeshift cave, four small globes cradled in my hands.

“Ready,” Harkat said. He was carrying six of the globes — his hands were bigger than mine.

“Aaarrr,” Spits growled, still sour about not being given any bombs. He’d been in a foul mood most of the week, due to the tiny amount of whiskey we’d limited him to.

“When this is over,” I tried to cheer him up, “you can drink all the whiskey you like and get steaming drunk, OK?”

“I like the sound o’ that!” he chuckled.

“Are you looking forward to … getting home?” Harkat asked.

“Home?” Spits frowned, then grinned sickly. “Aaarrr. ’Twill be great. I wish we was there already.” His eyes shifted nervously and he looked away quickly, as though he’d been caught stealing.

“We’ll go in three abreast,” I told Spits, shuffling to the top of the hill. “You take the middle. Head straight for the Lake. We’ll protect you.”

“What if the dragons don’t flee from the bombs?” Spits asked. “Will ye let ’em have it in the gob?” Spits thought we were crazy for not wanting to blow up the dragons.

“We’ll kill them if we have to,” I sighed. “But only if there’s no other way.”

“And only after they’ve … eaten you,” Harkat added, then laughed when Spits cursed loudly at him.

Forming a line, we checked ourselves one last time. Harkat and I were carrying everything we owned in our pockets, and Spits had his sack slung over his shoulder. Taking deep breaths, we shared crooked grins, then started down into the valley, where the four dragons were waiting.

A young dragon spotted us first. It was playing with its sibling — the pair often chased each other around the valley, like two overgrown kittens. When it saw us, it drew up short, flapped its wings and screeched warningly. The heads of the female dragons shot up, their hot yellow eyes fierce above their long purple faces.

The female with the grey head got to her feet, spread her wings, flapped them firmly and soared into the air. She circled around, screeching, then directed her snout at us and zoomed in. I could see her nostrils expanding as she prepared to blow fire.

“I’ll deal with this one,” I called to Harkat, stepping forward and holding up one of the larger globes. I judged my moment finely, waited until the dragon was almost directly overhead, then threw the globe hard into the earth and ducked. It exploded, sending soil and pebbles flying up into the dragon’s face. She screamed with panic and veered sharply away to the left.

The second female took to the air at the sound of the explosion, and the young dragons followed, adopting a position twenty feet above their mothers, who hovered side by side.

While the dragons hung in the air, we hurried toward the Lake of Souls, Harkat and I watching our every footstep, all too aware of the consequences if we stumbled and smashed the deadly globes. Spits was muttering over and over, “Better be worth it! Better be worth it! Better be …”

The female dragons split up and attacked us on two fronts at the same time, swooping out of the sky like a couple of comets. Harkat and I waited, then threw our globes at the same time, confusing the dragons with loud explosions and blinding geysers of earth and stones.

The dragons dogged our steps all the way to the Lake, attacking in turn or together every minute or so, only pulling clear when we launched our globes. One of the young dragons tried to join in, but its mother shot a warning streak of fire at it, frightening it back to its previous safe height.

As we progressed, I realized the dragons were intelligent creatures. After the first few explosions, they no longer flew into the blasts but pulled up short as soon as they saw us lobbing the globes. On a couple of occasions I tried to outfox them by just pretending to toss a globe, but they obviously saw through my ploy and only withdrew when I actually launched one.