what he was supposed to do, then he would be down before Pael arrived anyway. If that happened, she knew she would have to deal with Pael’s wrath, but she could handle that. She held out hope that she could get Gerard out of there safely, even if Pael did catch him unawares. It was a slim hope that would require a great deal of good fortune, and more than a little bit of skill on her part, but none of it would matter at all if they couldn’t get the dragon to come out of the lair to feed.
Once the snapper was in place, the gekas were ridden away. The stubborn hesitance they had shown only moments before evaporated when they realized that they were being directed to move out of the feeding grounds.
Now it was Greyber’s turn. He and his group charged out, and began hacking through the thick plated skin of the creature. When they were through it, they peeled back the hide to expose the fresh pink meat. Blood flowed freely. There was no shortage of fresh gore-scent to draw the dragon.
Just to be sure, Cole cast a spell that carried the aroma wafting right up into the dragon’s lair. It wouldn’t take long to arouse the great red wyrm. The Zard had been placing snapper here regularly for half a year, and those meals had been left plain and un-skinned. This offering was being prepared specifically to entice the dragon, and at an interval at least a week longer than usual. All that was left to do now was take cover and wait.
As if tempting fate, Shaella boldly walked out to the would-be-feast and began slinging some specially prepared liquid contents from a fat wineskin, over the most readily available meat. Only after the bladder was completely empty, did she join the others in the cover that surrounded the retched smelling bone-strewn clearing.
Gerard and Flick didn’t have to wait very long. A deep, rumbling roar sounded from above. It was so loud, that it could have come from an arm’s reach away. Gerard thought that he saw tiny ripples radiating away from the rocky formations he was about to climb.
When the dragon finally leapt from its lair, there was a moment of pause, as its wings unfurled, then a heavy whooshing “Thump!” as they caught air. It was huge. Far larger than Gerard had imagined it could be. It was easily a hundred feet long, maybe more. Gerard found himself trembling in place, and otherwise unable to move.
“I hope she can keep that away from here,” Gerard whispered in a quavering voice.
His mind raced for an excuse, any reason at all to back out of this madness, but his thoughts kept going back to all the macho bravado he had spouted during the planning of it. He decided that he would rather die than to face Shaella and the others as a coward.
The whole canoe was trembling now, and he was certain that it wasn’t just him. Only a fool wouldn’t be afraid of the sight of such a perfect predator, and Flick was far from a fool. Gerard found some relief in knowing that the mage was scared too. He took a few deep breaths, and decided that he was as ready as he ever would be. He shouldered the backpack into place then, and ever so gently, stood up in the canoe. For a heart stopping moment, the craft jerked and wobbled under his feet. Only after his hands found the rock face, and he gripped it tightly, could he still himself and let the flock of birds that were flying around in his rib cage settle down.
The hardest part was getting that first foot to leave the floor of the canoe. Once he managed that, it was all instinct. He was so intent on getting this over with, that he didn’t hear what Flick was saying. Apparently, it wasn’t that important.
Flick’s voice died away, as he watched Gerard racing like a madman up and away from him. He shook his head in amazement. He’d seen lizards that couldn’t climb as swiftly. He decided that Shaella couldn’t have chosen a better person for this task. The young man was amazing.
As Gerard had expected, the climb was easy. The weight of all that coiled line in his pack was the only inconvenience. He could bear the burden though, and the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to carry it all back down gave him comfort.
Each time he gained a new foothold, he found himself thanking his brother Hyden. The new horse-hide boots were gripping the strange black rock extremely well. The stuff was crumbly though. More than once, he had to resituate before pushing or pulling his body upward.
Thoughts of being roasted to the wall by spewing gouts of dragon fire came and went, as did thoughts of how pleased Shaella would be when this was all done. The physical and emotional rewards that she had already given him outweighed any amount of gold she could offer. He could only imagine how she would reward him later this night, when his body was too tired to move, and the dragon’s egg was safe in her custody.
He smiled as he climbed on. He’d learned long ago from his Elders and cousins that the only thing you couldn’t think about while climbing, was falling. He wasn’t afraid of falling. Falling didn’t hurt a bit. It was the sudden stop at the end of the fall that got you.
There was too much going on in his head for those sorts of thoughts to linger though. He began to contemplate Shaella’s army of skeeks. What was she planning to do? It was obvious that she was their leader. They were definitely planning something more than just stealing this dragon’s egg. The idea that Shaella might really be a lizard woman in disguise came to him. After he shivered the revulsion away, he stopped climbing, and laughed at himself.
When he started up again, he wondered what Hyden was doing these days. He was probably lolling around the clan village, or out roaming the hills with his bow. He definitely wasn’t doing anything this exciting. Maybe he was chasing the little hawkling around. It was probably big enough to fly now.
He wondered if Hyden had won the archery competition at Summer’s Day. If there was one thing that Gerard regretted about leaving the way he did, it was that he didn’t get to see the competition. He would’ve loved to stay and watch Hyden beat those snotty elves.
It was at that moment, in his thoughts, that he remembered the stupid, old fortune teller he and his brother had seen. He was just over half way up to the dragon’s lair. The climbing was so easy now that he barely needed his hands for more than balance.
What had that old crone said? His blood grew cold. Shaella was supposed to betray him up here. The old hag had almost choked on her own words and died, but he had seen the vision play out in his mind’s eye as the old woman was speaking to him. He had been watching Shaella, and some older, stronger looking version of Cole argue vehemently in a cavern. The dragon was there too. What else had she shown him? He searched his memory. He couldn’t give the crone credit for her prophecies. It was absurd. All those people couldn’t possibly be about to converge on the dragon’s lair. How would they get there? Suddenly, it came to him. He remembered the rest of the old hag’s words. He would find the power he sought in the depths of the dragon’s cave. Depths? He laughed. There were no depths at this height. The rest was just as silly. What was it? He would die, live again, then die and live again. Why had she said it twice, he wondered?
The question was still fresh in his mind when he pulled himself up into the mouth of the bone strewn dragon’s lair.
Shaella’s plan wasn’t going as well as expected. The dragon had already killed, scorched, or eaten half of the Zardmen in the troop. The beast was a thousand times more fierce and agile than any of the dragons written about in the accounts and stories she had studied. A beast such as this could destroy an army of men at its leisure. How the Giants of Afdeon had once killed such a creature without the aid of magic was beyond her.
Red scaled fury filled the clearing. Huge yellowed teeth and bright, backlit amber eyes glared and scowled as the dragon spewed forth gouts of flame. Crushing claws and a whipping tail came out of nowhere to dispatch any who were within reach; such was the wrath of the dragon.
Greyber was writhing on the ground, his screams slowly fading away with his life. He had lost his sword arm and most of his shoulder to a snap of angry jaws. As if to silence a pesky insect, the dragon stomped on the Seawardsman’s body with her huge hind claw, and ground him into the bloody mud.
The dragon seemed content to stand and battle with them all. It wasn’t the least bit injured, and was in complete control of the situation. In fact, like a cat toying with a mouse, the great wyrm seemed to be enjoying the sport.
That was the problem. The sleeping potion that Shaella had doused the meat with should have been enough to at least tire the ferocious beast, but it wasn’t so. The dragon was quite a bit larger than she had expected it to be, and it had charred the snapper meat to a sizzling crisp before tearing into it. The heat of the flames must’ve
