He sat up at once, a hundred questions on his lips, but Inri cut them off with a silent command to follow as she started away. The bard stood, finding his body aching but whole, and made his way after the sorceress. She mercifully slowed her walk to allow him to follow.
When they arrived back at the spot where the dragon had come upon them, Alin was chilled to the bone. Thard peeked from beneath a bloody bandage across his forehead and leaned heavily on a long shovel. Arms crossed, Ryla seemed unhurt-causing Alin's heart to leap-but wore a grim frown. Even Inri had not escaped unscathed; she wore one arm in an improvised sling.
It was the fifth member of their party who caused Alin's breath to catch.
Delkin lay half buried in a shallow grave. His face, burned black by the dragon's breath, was unrecognizable- Alin could only tell it was him by the honey-gold curls.
With a strangled cry, Alin dropped to his knees by the priest's grave.
'Don't touch him!' Inri shouted. 'The acid will burn your flesh as well.'
Alin might have ignored her and reached for his friend, but Thard caught him in time. As it was, he merely wept into the barbarian's strong arm.
Ryla gave an exasperated sigh. 'I told you we didn't have time to bury him,' she said. 'The night is coming, and when the dragon wakes-'
'For pity's sake,' Inri begged. 'Just a few more minutes.'
The dragonslayer rolled her eyes but shrugged in acceptance.
Alin stood and walked toward her. He looked at Ryla with a shocked expression, and she flashed him a seductive smile. When he gave no response, she turned and pointed.
Just up the path, a bloody ruin decorated the small clearing: the remains of the green dragon. Dozens of tree trunks lay snapped and splintered on the ground. Some trees even lay pulled up by the roots. Blood and bits of dragonflesh spattered the trees that were left standing a sickly green color. The creature looked as though it had been torn in half lengthwise, and huge gashes had torn its thick carapace to ribbons. Many of its exposed bones were splintered, as though some great force had thrown it against those broken trees.
Alin's thoughts leaped to Ryla-he had known the dragonslayer was strong, but how strong was she?
The bard looked back, a question in his eyes, and Ryla smiled.
'And I know where its lair is,' she said.
The dragon's lair was huge, a yawning cave bored in the side of a small volcano. Two rotting green dragon carcasses lay outside, grim watchguards that delivered a dark message to any brave or foolish enough to enter. The bodies were fresh, and assailed the cave with a foul odor.
'At least he won't smell us,' Alin observed to no one in particular.
Ryla smiled and waved the party of four forward. Thard, axe in hand, took point, with the dragonslayer and Inri following close behind. Alin, rapier drawn, took up the rear, but he didn't know how effective he would be in an attack. His sword seemed woefully inadequate compared to the others' weapons.
Entering the place was a shock, for the cave's darkness was much warmer than the light outside. The adventurers could see nothing in the blackness, and Alin recast his light spell. The light extended only a few feet in every direction, and the darkness pressed upon it like a living, breathing foe. Unrecognizable bones and bits of arms and armor littered the wide tunnel. The occasional snap of bones or metallic rustle of armor was the only sound. No rats, spiders, or other vermin scuttled by their feet. Alin suspected that few living creatures would survive long in the lair of a dragon.
They didn't have far to go through the oppressive blackness to reach Tharas'kalagram's inner lair. Less than a hundred paces in, they came upon a glowing cavern. Peering over the lip of a higher ledge, the four could see a gargantuan serpentine beast slumbering amidst piles of gold and gems. The horde was huge, a treasure out of a bard's epic tale. Gold and silver sparkled and dazzled, threatening to blind any who looked upon it at the wrong angle. The dragon that slept upon it was even larger, at least double the size of the green wyrm that had attacked them in the forest.
'Good, he's asleep,' Ryla whispered. 'Let's go.'
With that, she disappeared into the forest of stalagmites.
'Ryla?' Alin asked. 'Ryla!'
He slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his shout when they all heard a rumbling sound from below. They didn't have time to look over the edge, though, as another earth-shaking snore came up from the lair.
'She gives us no strategy?' Inri asked. 'What…?'
Ryla reappeared from behind the stalagmites, an irritated expression on her face.
'All right, all right,' she growled. 'Thard, you strike from hiding, then run-that rocky outcropping there.' She pointed down in the dragon's lair toward a smaller tunnel and fallen boulders that would provide cover. 'Inri, you stay up here and hit the beast with all the magic you can muster. Alin, help Inri.'
'What about you?' the bard asked.
The end of Ryla's mouth turned up in a smile. 'Once Thard hits him, Kalag-the dragon-will awaken. When it attacks him, that's when I go on top of it and take out its eyes. When the dragon is blinded, we have the advantage.'
Thard and Alin nodded. Only Inri looked unconvinced.
'Magical protections?' she prompted, as though reminding a youngster.
A flicker of something passed over Ryla's face, but it was gone before Alin could read her features.
'If you must,' she said in apparent exasperation.
'Thard will need the most,' Inri said.
She began casting spells upon the barbarian, keeping her voice low. Alin did the same, ransacking his brain for spells he knew that might help the man. Finally, he settled on one of his most powerful charms-a spell of invisibility.
Inri nodded as he cast it, as though grateful.
'Take this spell too,' said the sorceress. 'It will allow us to converse without speaking.'
She chanted a few arcane syllables under her breath, and a silvery radiance fell over them. Ryla flinched but grudgingly remained in the aura of radiance.
Gods! Alin said through the bond.
Yes, came Inri's voice in his mind. Try not to fill our minds with meaningless exclamations, though.
Instead of shutting his mouth, Alin emptied his mind, suitably chastened.
When they were finished, Thard picked Inri up so they could share a kiss. Cheeks flaming from embarrassment at the passionate feelings he felt through the mental bond, Alin stole a longing glance at Ryla, but the dragonslayer looked preoccupied with planning. He could also feel no thoughts coming from her-perhaps she knew how to hide her thoughts from others, even with Inri's spell. He turned away before she could read his thoughts.
The Moor Runners took up their places, Thard heading down closer and Ryla disappearing up the wall. Excitement shivered down Alin's spine as he waited. Thard looked like a hero of legend, picking his way between stalagmites as effortlessly as though they were tree trunks. All the while, he kept his eyes fixed upon the dragon's slumbering form and his hand on his axe handle.
Is it asleep? Inri asked Thard.
They could feel the barbarian's mental confirmation.
Alin clutched his rapier hilt firmly but dared not draw it, for he feared the sound it would make. Besides, he reminded himself, such a tiny blade would be nigh useless against the colossal dragon that awaited them. He called to mind his bardic tricks and the magic that would summon them, but even there he could do little but conjure dancing lights or perform feats of legerdemain. Once again, he felt useless in a fight, but he didn't feel out of place. Rather, he was there to bear witness to the epic battle sure to unfold-he would write it into The Ballad of Dragonclaw and-
Then they heard Thard's confusion in their minds. Wait, this is not the beast that attacked the caravan.
What? asked Alin. He could feel Inri's confusion and suspicion as well.
The scars are different.
At that moment, the dragon's eyes opened and its gaze fixed on Thard. Crimson, fiery death filled its mouth and its eyes were burning with terrible laughter.
Tempus!' the barbarian shouted, throwing himself forward.
