“All I have to do is bear down,” he said, “to crush you into jelly.”
She left the rest of the spell unspoken. The stillborn magic dispersed with a crackling sound.
Gaedynn jumped up and started toward Jaxanaedegor. The dragon’s head whipped in his direction. Wisps of yellow-green vapor fumed from the creature’s nostrils and between his fangs. Jhesrhi caught a whiff of it. It seared her nose and throat and made her cough.
Gaedynn stopped.
“That’s better,” Jaxanaedegor said.
“Let her up,” the archer said.
“Are you done lying?”
“Yes.”
“You’d better be.” The wyrm picked up his foot.
Jhesrhi sucked in a breath, then rose and scurried to stand with Gaedynn. She realized that putting a few paces between the dragon and herself meant absolutely nothing in terms of making her safer. But it felt better than lingering within arm’s reach.
“If I may ask,” Gaedynn said, “how is it that you know us?”
“For obvious reasons,” Jaxanaedegor said, “we in the north take an interest in the soldiers the war hero sends against us.” His breath weapon had stopped leaking into the air, though the little that had escaped was enough to fill the cave with an eye-watering haze. “I have an observer in Soolabax, and when he lost track of you, I told my people throughout Threskel to keep an eye out. Because you had to be going somewhere.”
To Jhesrhi it seemed, if not a false explanation, certainly an incomplete one. She could understand a lord of Threskel monitoring the Brotherhood of the Griffon as a whole, or its captain for that matter. But it still surprised her that the wyrm had taken such a close interest that he knew two lesser officers by name.
“Well,” Gaedynn said, “we’re honored to have snagged the attention of the terror of Mount Thulbane.”
“It could work out to your advantage,” Jaxanaedegor said. “You could attain eternal life.”
“As an eternal menial eternally creeping around in a hole in the ground, like these?” Gaedynn waved a hand to indicate the undead standing at the mouth of the tunnel.
“Servants with minor talents,” the dragon said, “must content themselves with minor roles. But you’re a skilled warrior, and your companion is versed in elemental sorcery. I might consider giving you the true Dark Gift of the Undying. To make you master vampires and knights of the realm.”
Jhesrhi took a breath. “We had an undead comrade named Bareris Anskuld. We saw what his condition made of him. We’re not interested.”
“You assume you have a choice.”
“I don’t assume I could hurt you or fend you off for any length of time. But I do think I could raise enough fire to burn Gaedynn and me to ash.”
Actually, probably not-not without her staff. But it was possible that despite his cunning, Jaxanaedegor couldn’t tell that.
The dragon grunted. “Well, don’t set yourself ablaze quite yet. I’m still deciding what to do with you. Tell the truth, and I might show more mercy than a spy deserves. What were you looking for in Mourktar?”
Gaedynn cocked his head. “Didn’t your own spy tell you?”
“He reported you were asking about rumors of a dragon somewhere in the Sky Riders. I want to know why.”
“The stories suggest the wyrm in question is inconvenienced in some way. We hoped that would make it possible for us to pilfer from its horde.”
“And how would that help Chessenta?”
“It wouldn’t. Jhesrhi and I have parted company with the Brotherhood of the Griffon. Deserted, if you want to put it unkindly. We just want to get our hands on enough coin to keep us in comfort for the rest of our days.”
“I find that difficult to believe. By all accounts, both you and the wizard have been loyal members of Aoth Fezim’s company for several years.”
Gaedynn grinned. “I don’t know what accounts you’ve heard, but I’ve never been loyal to much of anything but my own self-interest. Now, Jhesrhi-I admit-is somewhat more prone to that particular weakness. But not to the point of stupidity. Captain Fezim led us to near ruin in Thay and again in Impiltur. Now he’s dragged us to a kingdom where mages like her are pariahs. She doesn’t trust him anymore, and wants out just like me.”
Jaxanaedegor pounced as he had before. Only this time, it was Jhesrhi he flicked through the air and Gaedynn he pressed beneath his forefoot.
As Jhesrhi clambered to her feet, the dragon glared at her. “Your friend is nearly as glib as a dragon,” he said. “Unfortunately for him, I am a dragon, and my instincts tell me he’s still lying. Perhaps you’d care to speak the truth.”
“Gaedynn already did,” she replied.
“I don’t think I want him as any sort of servant,” Jaxanaedegor said. “I suspect that even bound to my will, he’d find a way of getting into mischief. But that’s the point of taking the heads off-so they don’t rise.” He opened his mouth, and two of the upper fangs lengthened.
“Don’t!” Jhesrhi cried. “I’ll tell you. Nicos Corynian, the Brotherhood’s employer, believes the dragon in the hills is Tchazzar.”
“Tchazzar!” Jaxanaedegor said. “Why in the Dark Lady’s name would he think that?”
“I’m not sure we know, entirely. Lord Nicos may have held something back. But the last anyone in Chessenta saw of Tchazzar, he was headed into Threskel. And the wyrm in the hills is supposedly a fire-breather.”
“And if it is Tchazzar, you’re supposed to bring him back to fight for Chessenta in her time of need.”
“Gaedynn and I are just supposed to investigate and report. But if it did turn out to be Tchazzar, I suppose someone would try to retrieve him. Now, please, I’ve given you what you wanted. Let Gaedynn up.”
“I suppose I might as well,” the dragon answered. “I’ve already drunk well tonight. It makes sense to save the two of you until I’m thirsty again.”
The lesser vampires started toward Jhesrhi. She cried to the stone surrounding her, raised one hand high, closed her fingers like she was clutching something, and whipped her arm down. Chunks of granite rained from the high domed ceiling.
But only enough to smash down on top of one of the undead. The others broke into a run that brought them into striking distance an instant later. One lashed her across the face with the back of his hand, and the blow knocked all the strength and much of the sense out of her. The world suddenly seemed a distant and meaningless place, and that kept her from resisting any further as the dragon’s minions hauled her and Gaedynn back into the dark.
Cera Eurthos waved her hand, and sunlight pushed back the night to reveal shrubs and blueleaf trees putting forth new growth, pebbled paths, a marble bench, and what Aoth supposed was the inevitable sundial.
“Do you like it?” Cera asked.
“Yes,” he said, and he didn’t bother to mention that his fire-touched eyes had seen the temple garden clearly even before her magic illuminated it.
The golden glow faded and night returned. “I’m afraid I don’t tend my personal patch of it very diligently. Just when the mood takes me.”
They sat down on the bench. He noticed she didn’t leave much space between them, and set his spear on the dewy grass. He wasn’t sure how the rest of the evening would unfold, but it wouldn’t hurt to put the weapon where it was out of the way.
“How did you think the banquet went?” he asked.
“You were the very model of a courtly gentleman soldier,” she said.
He smiled a crooked smile. “If so, it didn’t keep them from making signs to ward off evil when they thought I wasn’t looking.”
“Not all of them.”
“Well, I hope not.”
“Trust me. You won some of them over.”
