over what was in the way. The horses seemed to cause the biggest delay; even with Oof and Huffa herding them, they still managed to find dead-end pockets in the rocky valleys. One horse, carrying a trunk of books Phen had brought along, slipped on a loose patch of ice while edging the canyon. He slid over, rolled and thrashed for a heartbeat, then plummeted a few hundred feet only to slam with an audible thump into a huge slab of granite. Telgra screamed in horror when she looked over the edge. Dostin retched, and Oarly almost went over the edge after it trying to look down and see the mess. Luckily, it wasn’t the horse carrying Vaegon’s bow. From that moment on, Hyden slung the familiar quiver over his shoulder, strung Vaegon’s gift to him, and carried it at the ready.
The weather grew worse and the terrain more treacherous the deeper into the mountains they went. Blinding wind carrying sharp, abrasive granules of ice burned and stung their flesh. After a bitter week of it, it began to seem like the journey would never end.
Up in the higher passes, breathing became next to impossible. Snow drifts that were deeper than Borg was tall filled the crags and cracks. It was hard going, and cold beyond imagining at times, but finally they topped a ridge so high that they were above the the clouds. A sea of pillowy soft whiteness spread out across a great mountain-tipped bowl. In the center of this godly creation, rising up out of the clouds like some heavenly island, was a silvery gray castle of immense proportion.
“I give you Afdeon.”
“B- B- B- By D- Doon,” Oarly said in awe when his eyes took it all in.
“Doon had nothing to do with this marvel,” boasted Borg. “Dwarves aren’t the only ones who can work steel and stone.”
No one would have tried to argue, even if they could have found words, for the majesty of what was before them was truly indescribable.
Chapter 33
The sweltering heat that hung over the marshes was taking its toll on Bzorch and the other breed giants. They had large, bulky bodies and, though they didn’t quite have fur like an animal, they did have thick tufts of hair. Bzorch’s determination overpowered the fact that his body was made for colder climates. To him, it was merely an irritation, but to some of the others, the constant humidity and the stinging, biting insects were debilitating. Bzorch suffered the uncomfortable days without complaint, and with snarls and angry looks he kept his small group of breed from complaining, as well. At the moment, though, the sweaty discomfort wasn’t even on their minds.
The excitement of the chase had them alert and on edge. They’d worked for two full days, skirting low-lying land masses, and negotiating channels and shallow expanses of water that were hidden under a blanket of waist- high grass. Tangly patches of drooping trees rose up out of the ground that had managed to stay above the water line. The further they went, the more dense and abundant these islands became. By the time the curvy fang-shaped spire was visible in the distance, the world around the deep channels the boats were traversing had become a full and formidable jungle.
It was late on the second day when they saw the Zard nest. There were thirty, maybe forty Zard-men, all armed and wearing studded leather armor with Queen Shaella’s lightning star emblem emblazoned on their breasts. They were encamped in a clearing hidden by a densely treed tangle. Oddly, they didn’t attack when they were spotted. The Zard quickly climbed up on several of the large geka lizards they favored, five and six to a mount. It was then that the chase began.
Two boatloads of soldiers stormed onto the land, followed by a pair of breed giants, one carrying a dragon gun, the other carrying the long coil of rope that made the device so treacherous to airborne creatures. Bzorch commanded the rest of the group to stay on the boats. He told the men ashore to stick with their shipmates, but to each take a different way around the island. It was a wise decision for the men chasing the Zard on foot. They found that the terrain was littered with trap after deadly trap. Thatch covers fell away, revealing staked pits. Half a dozen men were impaled on sharpened bamboo spears that jutted up from the muddy bottom. Some of those who skirted the holes found their calves and shins sliced open by poisonous brambles that had been cleverly placed. The trail the group followed led right to a large snapper nest, and when the men were finally forced to retreat, swinging branches and sandy mud slops that swallowed one man whole, took their toll as well.
The dragon gunner got off a shot at one of the fleeing geka lizards. The forearm-length barbed spear arced through the air, trailing its unwinding coil behind it like a streamer. It struck true and the rope-man had the presence of mind to quickly wrap the free end of the tether around a nearby cypress tree before it snapped taut. The geka thrashed and screamed out when it was yanked to a stop. The four Zard riding it were thrown forward into the surrounding muck. An anxious snapper snatched one of them up in its jaws and slithered away. One Zard was left twitching and sputtering in the mud after smacking hard into a tree. The other two fled into the jungle on webbed feet, disappearing quickly into their natural habitat.
Of the thirty men who had started the foot chase, only ten and the breed giants returned.
Bzorch’s group was following the channel. He stood at the helm, holding one of the dragon guns like some great hunter. They didn’t see much. Eventually they had to turn back because the channel dead-ended into a cacophonous cove full of big, shrieking dactyls, who apparently nested there.
The other group had found the place where the gekas had crossed from one land rise to another. A small group went after them to more carefully follow their trail. Soon, though, daylight began to fade, and they were forced to rejoin the others where they had run the barge ashore and made a camp.
The geka the breed giant had impaled on his dragon spear was being butchered and roasted. Over twenty men had died on this first encounter, and a handful of others were injured. Bzorch had the wounded put on a small boat. It would start back to Settsted in the morning. Some of the men needed to be taken back immediately, but the breed giant knew that the boat wouldn’t get far traveling at night.
The returning trackers said that the geka trail led eastward, away from the Dragon’s Tooth. Bzorch grunted at this news and silently munched on a meaty haunch of geka meat by one of the large campfires. He was primitive, but he was no fool. He wouldn’t be tricked by the obvious misdirection. Already, the clever skeeks had bested them once.
There was no dry wood in these parts, and the grass that had been heaped on the coals created billowing clouds of smoke.
“Captain Hodge,” Bzorch said as he waved the thick smoke from the front of his face. “Is it a ploy to lead us away from the fang?”
“Aye, maybe so,” Hodge replied. It was clear he was beginning to respect Bzorch’s instinct about things. Being an alpha breed, Bzorch’s instincts were keen. He liked Hodge, because the man didn’t seem to fear his presence like most humans did. Hodge licked the grease from his fingers. “What do you suggest we do?” he finally asked.
“I say we split into two forces,” Bzorch said through a mouthful of geka meat. “One large group to move directly on the fang, and one smaller group to work out in flanks, just in case.”
“You want to attack the Dragon Spire?”
“If we chase these bands out here around the outer marshes, we just thin our numbers,” said Bzorch. “If there is a Choska roosting up in that hole, it will do what it has to do to keep us from finding it. They aren’t so easy to kill, and they can control the Zard.”
“You fought a Choska before then?” the captain asked.
“Killed one in the battle of Seareach,” Bzorch said, pounding his fist on his chest. “Killed a few hellcats and managed to get a barb in that nasty fargin black dragon, too.”
Hodge nodded respectfully. He hadn’t known. A flaw in Bzorch’s plan occurred to him, but it didn’t seem very probable that all the outlying bands of Zard would surround them and pin them in once they got to the dragon’s fang. He kept his thought to himself. Bzorch had probably already considered it. No doubt it was why he wanted to spilt the group in two.
A gasping murmur swept across the encampment. Men were pointing up at the sky and whispering nervously. Both Bzorch and Captain Hodge looked up, but nothing was immediately visible. Suddenly Bzorch growled and pointed directly above them. Hodge followed the breed giant’s finger. The dark shapes only became discernible because they eclipsed the stars as they circled.
