already.
“For the love of Kerberos, man, stick it before it sticks you!” Keldren said, striding towards Silus, an ochre glow wreathing his right hand.
This creature didn’t deserve the pain of the death the mage would give her. As the orc leader leaned over her comrade in grief, Silus drew his dagger and cut her throat. The tide of blood splashed over the body beneath her and washed up against Keldren’s boots as he came to a halt. The wizard looked down with contempt.
“For a moment, I thought you were going to show pity for this mongrel.”
Silus looked down at the dagger, then up at Keldren. With a self-control that everything within him fought against, he sheathed his weapon.
Khula hoped that when they found her body she would be honoured with the rites granted to her predecessors — her bones boiled clean, dried and bleached in the sun, pounded into dust and smoked by the shamans of the tribe. Somehow, however, she doubted it. For wasn’t she as much a failure as that long-dead orc king? Hadn’t she led her tribe into death, rather than glory?
As the drumbeat of her heart slowed, and the flood pouring from her throat became a trickle, Khula wondered by what moniker she would be remembered.
The dragon roared, its cry echoing from the peaks and reminding her shamefully of that name she had desperately wished for, but would now never attain.
Khula the Dragon Slayer.
CHAPTER TWENTY- THREE
“I can’t help but notice that you suddenly seem a bit reticent,” Kelos said.
The dragon’s roar came again and Keldren took another step back.
“Surely you’ve fought dragons before?”
“Actually, no,” Keldren said. “And as such, my magic isn’t going to be of any use. But I’ve led you to the beast, so now — once you have acquired what you need — it will be down to you to uphold your end of the bargain.”
As they walked deeper into the shadow of the range, the azure disk of Kerberos was beginning to rise over the mountains behind them. Blue light washed over the peaks, falling into crevasses and filling hollows, moving down the mountain in a brilliant waterfall of light. This time, when the dragon called, there was music in its voice, as though it were greeting the dawn with song. Besides Silus, Emuel gasped as the tattoos that covered his body began to move.
“Dragons are not just a source of magic,” Kelos said, seeing the change in the eunuch. “They are magic.”
“I wish I understood what you just said,” Katya said. “But if it’s going to help us return home faster, I say we kill the thing and get out of here.”
“Silus, you should probably hang back,” Dunsany said. “We don’t want any of the creature’s blood touching you. Not after what happened last time.”
“So, it’s just down to you and I?” Kelos said. “No offence, my friend, but, somehow, that doesn’t fill me with confidence.”
“We’ll be fine. We already know where a dragon is most vulnerable. Just go for the throat sacks.”
“There’s something you don’t hear every day,” Katya said.
The light from Kerberos touched almost every part of the mountain, now, and as it flowed towards the foot of the slope, the shale shifted overhead, a small avalanche clattering towards them.
“As soon as it comes into view,” Kelos said, “we’ll try to flank it. I can shield us for a time but, Keldren, I’d appreciate it if you could also help out where you can; supply some magical protection, at least.”
“I’ll do what I can, but I’ve already used much of my power getting us here.” Keldren looked ready to run, and Silus made a promise to himself that he’d cut the mage down if he attempted it.
Emuel began to sing. Moving ahead of them, he started to climb.
“Emuel!” Kelos hissed. “Emuel! What in the seven hells do you think you are doing?”
The eunuch wasn’t listening, and his tattoos seemed to writhe with a greater urgency as he made his way up the slope. Dunsany was just about to rush forward and grab him when the dragon roared again, this time sounding as though it were just beyond the crest of the rise.
More scree shifted and Emuel fell onto his back. He lay spreadeagled on the ground, helpless as the dragon hove into view.
“Emuel, run!” Katya shouted.
“Run, Emuel!” Zac echoed, his little hands clapping together in anxiety.
But the eunuch did not appear to be afraid. Instead, as a great clawed foot came down next to his head, he opened his arms and smiled.
It was Calabash. His desert saviour; the creature who had led him to water when he had been on the verge of dying of thirst, who had protected him against the savage orcs and who had refused to join in with the slaughter of his companions, when its brothers and sisters had turned on them.
The black snout came in close, the jaws opening slightly as the creature inhaled the scent of him, but despite the sight of those scimitar teeth, he knew that he was perfectly safe.
Emuel got to his knees and, holding the dragon’s snout and gazing into its eyes, he sang the song that had called to him all that time ago amongst the shifting dunes. For a moment, the creature stared blankly at him, and a small part of Emuel feared that he had got it horribly wrong; that the dragon would open its mouth and roast them all, just as it had done with the orcs. But then, starting low and deep within its throat, Calabash joined in with the song, its voice harmonising with Emuel’s as the tattoos on his arms twined around each other in sympathy.
Emuel half expected their song to be joined by others — Calabash’s brethren emerging from the mountains, drawn by the music. But there was only Calabash, the last of them. This was the creature his companions would kill?
When he heard the sounds of swords being drawn, Emuel turned to see Kelos and Dunsany moving slowly out to either side, attempting to flank the dragon. So far, the creature was unaware, its attention focused solely on the eunuch.
“That’s it, Emuel,” Dunsany said in a low voice as he slowly approached. “That’s perfect. Just hold it for a few more moments.”
“Please, don’t do this,” he said. “You don’t need to kill Calabash.”
“Cala- what? You’ve named it, now?” Kelos said.
“Calabash saved me when I was dying. When the other dragons attacked, Calabash refused to join in. This creature has done nothing to deserve this.”
When it saw the two men moving towards it, Calabash hissed, sounding more like a huge predatory cat than a lizard.
In response, Kelos gestured and a blue-green aura shimmered into existence around himself and Dunsany.
“Just move slowly towards me,” Kelos said. “If you startle it, it may attack, and I don’t have the resources for another shield spell.”
“No,” Emuel said, stepping in front of Calabash and spreading his arms wide. “I refuse.”
“What? Emuel, you can’t be serious. You’ve seen what these things are capable of.”
“Not Calabash.”
“Don’t you understand? That thing is our only way home. If we don’t have the blood of the dragon, I cannot empower the spell and we’ll have to spend the rest of our lives here, thousands of years from our own time, powerless to prevent an apocalypse that will consume everything we love and care for.”
“Then that’s the way it ends. Is this world really worth saving, Kelos? Our Twilight is a cruel place, ruled over by tyrants, divided by war and populated by a people who meekly do as they’re told. Well, I’m done with that. I
