Fight And The Fury (Book 8) Page 2

  “Go! We must have a burial, Rescue Murderer.”

  “There’s no time for a burial,” Nath said. “I’ll carry Flupplinn. We can bury him later.” He moved towards the fallen body that lay still on the ground. The gnome’s small form was like that of a child, and Nath felt sadness run through him. He started to stoop down, but the gnomes stopped him.

  “We’ll carry our own dead,” one said, “Rescue Murderer.”

  “Be on with you now,” said another.

  “Go, go away.”

  “Rescue Murderer.”

  “Safer with dragons, we were.”

  “The lurker was safer too.”

  The comments stung. Bit. But Nath didn’t have time for any of it. He didn’t have time to explain himself, and it wasn’t surprising that the gnomes didn’t see the truth of it. They’d gotten settled in their jaxite home.

  He turned and faced Snarggell.

  “I know this is hard, but it’s going to be much harder if you don’t come with me.”

  “Are you going to snatch me up like a child again?”

  Nath’s golden eyes flared. Smoke rolled from his nose.

  “Alright,” Snarggell said, eyeing the city in the sky. His ancient eyes narrowed a little. “We’ll go with you then.”

  “Good.”

  Nath led them along the river bank for about a half mile, keeping his eyes on the city behind him. The dragons remained still as gargoyles in their perches. Not a wing in the sky. His mind raced, wondering why they didn’t come. What were they waiting for? He glanced back at the gnomes. Four of them carried one dead friend. All of their faces were dour. It left a guilty feeling in him. But he hadn’t invaded the city to make friends. He had done it to put an end to the jaxite mining that allowed the Clerics of Barnabus to control the dragons. And to save Bayzog from Otter Bone’s spell.

  My friend had better be in good order.

  He pushed his way up the river bank, through the clinging briars, and into the forest. The frozen stares of the dragons were now gone from his mind. He focused on catching up with Bayzog, Brenwar, and Ben.

  A hundred yards deep in the forest, he pushed through the foliage and into a grove of pines. He came to a stop. The ground rumbled beneath his feet.

  “What is it?” Snarggell said, squinting his eyes in the growing darkness. “Why did we stop?”

  “Sh,” Nath said, staying the gnomes with his hand. He kneeled and put his palm on the ground. His nostrils flared. A moment later, birds exploded from the tree and the forest shook.

  Ear-shattering roars filled the valley like thunder. Nath shrank back. The gnomes fell to their knees, quivering.

  “What in Nuh-Nalzambor was that?” Snarggell said.

  “Dragons,” Nath said, unsheathing Fang. “Bull dragons.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “A mad elf,” Brenwar said to Ben, lifting his brows. “I thought I’d never see such a thing. The war’s gotten to him. He goes to feed himself to the dragons.”

  “Maybe he’s being brave,” Ben said. His strong features shone well in the dimming light. Rugged. Battle worn. He readied his bow.

  “An elf, brave?” Brenwar said. “A wizard, at that? You know this is not a time for jesting.”

  Ben shrugged and positioned himself for an open shot. Brenwar kept his eyes on Bayzog.

  The elf glided through the forest on cat’s paws, a shade of himself.

  He grunted. He’d seen elves move with plenty of stealth before, but not Bayzog. The part-elf was clumsy by such standards, except today. Today, Bayzog was as graceful as a ghost.

  “Magic,” he muttered under his beard. “I heard you use it, you tricky one.”

  Still, his heart pounded beneath his breastplate like a hammer. He wasn’t used to watching another take the heavy risk.

  “It’s not dwarven-like.”

  Bayzog weaved through the trees, blending in with everything he passed, becoming more difficult to see with every step. Straining his eyes, Brenwar lost Bayzog in the forest. At the same time, the copper dragons froze their wading in the waters. One barked an awful sound to the others. The others barked back. Their serpent eyes shone like yellow moons, narrowing while their necks swayed from side to side.

  Brenwar’s knuckles turned white on War Hammer’s handle.

  “What are ye doing, Elf?”

  He glanced over at Ben and caught Ben glancing at him. The well-knit warrior pointed at the stream, his lips mouthing the words, “He’s there. He’s there. Right in front of them.”

  Brenwar inched forward, squinting.

  There!

  Bayzog stood like a sapling on the edge of the stream, easing his staff into the waters.

  A copper dragon stood in the waters no more than twenty yards away, eyeing the spot where he stood. It barked. A sharp dreadful sound.

  Bahhhct! Bahhhct!

  It waded deeper into the waters.

  “‘Wait for my signal’ he says,” Brenwar grumbled. “He can’t signal if he’s dead.”

  ***

  With fire charging through his veins, Bayzog eased the Elderwood Staff into the waters. He could feel the power of the dragons, who were strong like iron, powerful like a gale, but little bigger than a large man. But he’d already seen one rip Horse Neck apart like a cat does a mouse.

  Don’t think about that. Block it out.

  He’d already used magic to conceal himself. An old elven spell he’d learned when he was young. But now, so close, there was only so much you could hide from the powerful sense of a dragon. The most excellent hunters in the world.

  Feeling the dragon’s eyes burning a hole right through him, he summoned his power and fed the Elderwood Staff that rested in the waters. The silvery stream burbled a bright spark of blue under the surface. The spark spread. The waters began to crystalize, crackle, and turn to ice. In seconds, the mystic power raced from one side of the stream to the other, forming a huge slab of ice.

  The dragons barked back and forth, thrashing in their frozen bounds. The giant ice slab held their legs and bodies fast. They roared at the frozen waters. One of the three’s neck was frozen under. The nearest dragon showed Bayzog a vicious stare and opened its jaws wide. A stream of acid shot forth.

  Bayzog dove, but failed to beat the acid, which burned into his legs.

  ***

  Ben heard the waters crackle and watched in amazement. The waters turned to a sheet of ice, damming up the stream in seconds. The cold expressions of the dragons he’d never seen on their serpent faces before. Surprise that quickly turned to anger. A black stream of liquid sizzled from the copper dragon’s mouth, and he heard Bayzog cry out.

  Twang!

  The first arrow went into the copper dragon’s neck.

  Twang!

  The second clattered off its horns. He reloaded and aimed. Brenwar charged between the dragon and his sight with War Hammer waving like a banner.

  “Shades! Get out of the way!”

  ***

  Brenwar barreled through the forest towards the river bank. His knees sprang into action the moment the dragon opened up its maw. Instantly, he knew he’d be too late to warn Bayzog to get out of the way. Instead, he watched the part-elf fall in a heap of agony.

  “I’ll give you a fight, Lizard!”

  Brenwar’s boots hit the ice, and Ben’s arrow whizzed into the dragon’s neck. The dragon’s head recoiled back. Another arrow ricocheted off its horns. Brenwar slid across the ice and swung.

  Pow!

  He caught the beast full in the chest, rocking it back. He drew his arms back to strike again.

  Whap!

  The dragon’s tail knocked him across the ice. He scrambled to his feet, slipped, and fell down again. He popped up just in time to see the dragon’s lungs fill with air.

  “Uh-oh.” It was one of those moments he wished he carried a shield. Flat footed, he curled up into a ball. “This is going to sting.”

  Twang!

  Boom!

  Brenwa
r’s head popped up. The dragon was in smoking pieces. He twisted his head around and saw Ben charging his way with the bow held high. He was yelling something, but Brenwar’s ears were ringing.

  “What’s that?”

  Ben pointed and waved frantically.

  Brenwar turned. The frozen dragons on the other side of the ice were breaking free.

  Brenwar huffed through his beard and said, “No you don’t.”

  He slung War Hammer across the ice with all his might.

  Kachoom!

  It blasted into the dragon’s chest so hard that it shook all of its scales. Its eyelids fluttered. Streams of acid exploded from its mouth. It struggled, squawking like a drowning animal. Droplets of acid showered the air, sizzling on the ice and everywhere.

  “Get away from there, Brenwar!” Ben yelled.

  “Stay back!” Brenwar yelled at the same time. He’d had enough of this. He was putting an end to the dragon. He stormed right into its path, ignoring the burning acid that sizzled off his skin. He snatched up his hammer and struck the wild beast again and again until it moved no more. He combed his fingers through the smoking holes that burned in his beard.

  “Drat!”

  The ice cracked between his feet, and the third dragon ripped its head out of the frozen waters. Its eyes locked on Brenwar’s. War Hammer locked on its eyes and sailed straight into its nose.

  Krang!

  The muscles in its steel-hard neck went limp and sunk onto the ice. Brenwar strode over, picked up his hammer, and finished it in one quick blow. He wheeled around. No more dragons. All three were dead. He saw Ben assisting Bayzog. The elf’s chiseled face was filled with pain. Brenwar headed over and kneeled down. The acid had eaten through Bayzog’s robes and into his flesh. Nasty bubbling wounds.

  “Yer legs never did you much good anyway,” he said. “I’ll get the chest and see if we can stop that.”

  “Thanks,” Bayzog said, grimacing. His face was beaded in sweat. “Feels like its eating right through me.”

  “Brenwar,” Ben said, eyes wide, “your head is smoking.” He started patting it out.

  “Stop that!”

  “But?”

  “It will go out soon enough.”

  “Doesn’t it hurt?” Ben said. “I would think it hurts.”

  “It doesn’t hurt as much as the sound of your yapping.” He eyed Ben. “Say, make yourself useful and fetch the chest.”

  ***

  “That was a good plan, Elf,” Brenwar said.

  “Thanks,” Bayzog said. He’d never been in so much pain before. “Maybe you can make me a suit of armor one day,” he continued, trying not to look at his wounds.

  “Maybe,” Brenwar said, peeling the remains of Bayzog’s robes away from his acid-burns.

  Bayzog sucked in sharply.

  “But, it won’t do you any good if you don’t fill us in on the plan,” Brenwar said. “No good at all. Why didn’t you just tell us something instead of running off like ye did?”

  “Well, I didn’t really have a plan. I just felt I needed to do something. I followed my instincts.” He surveyed the dead dragons. Ben had blown one up, and Brenwar had walloped the other two. Despite his burns, he felt good for playing a part in that. Too often, he felt like he did nothing at all. It was as if they were protecting him and he was never protecting them. “Seems it worked.”

  “Aye,” Brenwar said, unfurrowing his brow. He laid his hand on Bayzog’s shoulder. “Sometimes you have to trust your instincts. Yours are getting better. Much better. Just not better than mine. I shouldn’t have let you go. I shouldn’t have let Nath go either.”

  “You did right.”

  “We’ll see.” Brenwar dusted off his hands. He’d peeled all the robes away from Bayzog’s legs. The flesh was nasty underneath. “Well, at least we have plenty of ice to put on it,” he said, doing just that.

  Bayzog choked a laugh and wiped away his tears.

  “Where’s Ben? We’ve got to get moving, help Dragon.”

  “You don’t think there could be another dragon out there, do you?” Bayzog said.

  “No, not after all that squawking they made. Aid would have come by now. The forest covers the racket farther out. I think we’re safe.” He stood up and peered through the forest. “Where is he?”

  Bayzog scooted around. The movement made the pain worse, and the pain made him queasy. He squinted. Ben emerged from the overhanging brush. He had his fingers locked behind his head. Bayzog reached for the Elderwood Staff. Someone beat him to it.

  CHAPTER 6

  Things were coming together. It was no wonder the other dragons hadn’t come after Nath and the crystal gnomes. They were going to let the bull dragons do the dirty work for them. Nath wanted to kick himself. He’d forgotten all about them.

  “What do we do?” Snarggell whispered. His eyes blinked continuously, and his fingers fidgeted. “What do we do, Rescue Murderer?”

  “Stop calling me that,” Nath said, irritated. “Just be still.”

  The gnomes, typically chatter boxes, were silent. They huddled together in the brush in some sort of protective circle. Snarggell merged with them, whispering quickly in Gnomish.

  Nath paid them no mind. Instead, his thoughts raced through his memories of the dragons. He knew each kind’s weakness, most of them anyway, but the bull dragons didn’t have much of one. They were brutes: flying, fire-breathing juggernauts. Only the titan dragons, the hulls, were a greater match.

  It could be worse I suppose. It could be raining.

  The bull dragons had Nath’s scent already. He didn’t have much doubt that the other dragons had told them he and the gnomes were near.

  “I’m glad I have you,” he said to Fang. “And that you are cooperating. I need you.”

  The great blade winked blue. The hilt warmed in his hand.

  “Let’s not have that again.”

  The hilt stayed warm, not scalding hot.

  Nath focused. I have to help Bayzog. He’d defeated the grey scaler without a weapon. Could he defeat two bull dragons, even with weapons?

  Perhaps I can reason with them. He smiled. Bull dragons were anything but reasonable.

  Another pair of ear-shattering roars erupted, louder this time than the last. He could hear trees toppling. Branches breaking.

  “They come closer!” one of the gnomes squealed.

  Nath grunted. The bull dragons had the scent. They would be upon the party soon. He’d have to hold the dragons off until the gnomes made their way to safety. But where would that be? Up along the riverbank? He could at least catch up with them from there. If he survived.

  “Snarggell, lead the gnomes up river, along the bank,” he said, turning, “I’ll hold the dragons off as long as I can.”

  The gnome didn’t reply. None of them. Their bodies formed a tight knot of people.

  “Snarggell?” He reached over and grabbed one of the gnomes. Its body and clothes had turned to stone. He found Snarggell’s eyes twinkling at him. “What are you doing?”

  Snarggell’s stony lips retorted, “Surviving. Goodbye, Rescue Murderer.” His features solidified again.

  “Blast my scaled hide!” he said, staring at the statues of bodies. The crystal gnomes’ plan was a good one, assuming the dragons couldn’t sniff them out and crush them. But at least they were safe for now.

  I wish I could do that.

  A fleeting thought of running drifted through his thoughts. He was fast. But that would only endanger others. He moved away from the gnomes to another clearing in the pines. The great trees swayed in the darkness. Timbers cracked and groaned under the power of the scaled bulk that pushed through them. The claws on Nath’s fingertips tingled. He wasn’t scared of any man, dragon, nor monster. Nor of death. But one thing did scare him: failure. Especially when the entire world depended on him.

  Two pines crashed left and right, and the first bull dragon emerged. Huge. Bigger than a pair of elephants. The great horns twisted on its head like
spears. Its face was large. Fierce and terrible. Red-orange scales shimmered like steel armor. Its mouthful of teeth a bunch of giant white icicles.

  Nath felt its hot charred breath on his face. Heard its thoughts inside his head, in Dragonese.

  “Well, what have we here?”

  The second bull dragon pushed through. Just as big and just as ugly and terrible. The pair hemmed him in.

  “Why, it’s the precious son of the dragon ‘king’.”

  Bellies scraping the ground, they both came closer.

  “Doesn’t look like a dragon to me,” the first one said.

  Eyeing Fang, the other bull dragon replied, “Look, he brought us a toothpick. Now we can see if he tastes like one.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Bayzog’s lips drew forth powerful mystic Elvish words. The butt of the Elderwood Staff jammed in his throat and cut him off.

  “Uh, uh, uh,” said the tall figure that held his staff, wagging his finger at Bayzog. “Not another syllable if I were you.”

  Bayzog’s eyes flitted around. Tall stout figures held Ben and Brenwar at sword point. Their heads were all hooded, and they wore cloaks. Dark green and grey. One of them had Brenwar’s chest tucked under his arm, and another carried the bow, Akron. Bayzog couldn’t imagine how men so big had gotten the drop on them.

  The one above him said, “Did you kill those dragons?”

  Bayzog nodded, noting the strange accent.

  “We killed those dragons, and we’ll kill you too,” Brenwar said. “I suggest you move on, if you know what’s good for you.”

  “Says the fat bearded one,” the stranger said in a cool sanguine voice. “Are you a dwarf? You sound gnomish, but you’re too fat for a gnome.”

  Brenwar shook his fist, snarled, and pounced. He grabbed the first hooded stranger’s legs and drove him into the ground. His fist came up and down.

  Another cloaked stranger tackled him.

  Bayzog heard his captor chuckling.

  “Dwarves. Love a good insult. Love a good fight,” the stranger said. He eased the Elderwood Staff off Bayzog’s neck. “Enough!”