Fight And The Fury (Book 8) Read online

  Hoven returned with a small wooden chest in his hands. He handed it to Shum, whose chin rested on his fist and elbow.

  “Ah, excellent,” the Wilder Elf said. “Brenwar, come. This is for you.”

  Without looking up, Brenwar said, “I’m not interested.”

  “But you should be,” Shum replied. “It’s for you, from the King.”

  Brenwar perked up and said, “Is that so?”

  Shum nodded.

  “What is it?” Brenwar asked, making his way towards the table.

  “I don’t know. All he said to me was, ‘Give this gift to Brenwar with my thanks. And tell him job well done, but it’s not over. Do not fret. Aid comes. But this will help in the meantime.’”

  Brenwar set the box on the table and opened it, with Ben and Bayzog watching over his shoulders. His brows popped up. A pair of metal bracers woven in intricate patterns with lustrous metal gleamed within the velvety box. Rugged, but beautiful.

  “Whoa,” Ben said, “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  Brenwar rubbed his fingers over the smooth configurations of the polished metal. The craftsmanship was beyond excellent. He’d seen them in the Dragon King’s chambers and commented on them once, only to never see them again. He’d wondered what happened to them.

  He turned to Shum and said, “Everything is true that you said.”

  “Indeed, Brenwar. Indeed.”

  One by one, he snapped the bracers on his thick wrists. Power and security coursed through his skin and sank into his bones. The corner of his bearded mouth turned up into a smile. When he punched his fist into to his hand, it sounded like thunder in the room.

  “I like that,” he said, forming a battle grin. “Where’s the nearest outpost of Barnabus?”

  ***

  A larger fire had been lit in the chamber’s fireplace, and a deer was roasting. The Roaming Rangers had been in and out the better part of the day, while Ben, Bayzog and Brenwar made themselves as comfortable as possible. Bayzog had isolated himself in the farthest corner of the chamber, meditating on the jaxite stones he’d found on Nath. Brenwar, Shum and Hoven discussed other locations to take Nath Dragon.

  Ben sat at the end of the table, sharpening a knife with a stone, staring at Dragon.

  Wake up! Will you wake up!

  Over the past few months, his hopes had gone up. They were winning. Defeating the forces of Barnabus. It had seemed everything was going right, but now it had turned wrong so fast. And he knew in his heart that things truly did rest on Nath. With Dragon, victory was sure to come. He believed.

  He set the stone and knife on the table and dragged his chair closer to Nath. The dragon man’s face was bruised and swollen. His lips were cracked and split in three places, and two of his claws were broken. It hadn’t seemed possible that anything could hurt Nath before, but it was clear now that Nath suffered as much as the rest of them.

  “We can’t wait forever on you,” Ben said. “The war must be fought, with or without you.” He took Nath’s stiff paw and wrapped it around Fang’s hilt. “Whenever you wake up, you’re going to need this. Be ready.”

  Leaning back in the chair, Ben noticed something. The rise and fall of Nath’s chest was gone. His features were stiff and rigid. Ben shook his head, and with sadness he announced to the others what was going on.

  Brenwar was the first one there, and he said, “It’s happening again. He’s hibernating.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Nath dreamed. He stood in a cavern of darkness before a gigantic throne of stone. Two great urns glowed with wavering green fires on both sides of it. The walls howled and moaned. He tugged at his unseen bonds. His frozen limbs would not be freed.

  Where am I?

  His head twisted in all directions.

  What is this place?

  There were bodies strewn along the floor. All the races were represented. They were corpses, rotting flesh and bones. Their bodies were twisted and mangled. Their weapons shattered and broken. Everywhere.

  Nath screamed, but no sound came out.

  Something started laughing at him. Above him, high above in the darkness of the cavern, dragons hunched in the arches like scaled gargoyles. They laughed as only dragons can laugh. As only dragons can understand. They made it clear they were laughing at him. At his friends. At all of their futile efforts.

  “Nalzambor is ours,” they said in a ghostly form of Dragonese, “the Dragon Prince will soon be ours as well.”

  “Never!” Nath’s yell was stifled by silence again. He fought at his bonds with all the might in his dragon arms. He was strong, yet powerless. “Who are you?”

  A great colorful mist erupted behind the throne of stone. Something lurked inside the swirls. Its glaring eyes were bright suns. Its sharp teeth shone like stars. It emerged from the mist and took a seat on its throne. It was a dragon. One of the biggest he’d ever seen. Its horns were pointed and many, its head more skull than scales. Lightning danced all over its body and skipped between its claws. Its voice was greater than thunder.

  “I am Gorn Grattack! King of this world!”

  Its claws dug into the arms of its chair.

  “I’m coming,” it said. “I’m coming for you soon, little meddler.” Gorn lifted his foot and stomped it into the ground, crushing every fallen victim into powder. “I cannot be stopped.” It pointed at Nath. “And your friends will all die…” It stooped down its great head and opened its mouth wide. The fiery pit inside transformed into a vision.

  Bayzog’s body and staff were broken on the rocks.

  War Hammer lay in a pile of ashes shaped like Brenwar’s form.

  Ben swung from a tree with a noose around his neck.

  There were others, countless others, busted and mangled. Sasha. Pilpin. The Roaming Rangers. And hundreds of good dragons in bright shining colors.

  Gorn Grattack ran roughshod through every town and village. His breath and his stare turned everything to rubble and cinders.

  Gorn’s mouth closed, and the huge dragon resumed his seat on the throne.

  “I cannot be stopped. But you can save your friends and many others if you join me.”

  Nath’s shock turned to rage. He redoubled his efforts against the forces that held him. Smoke and flames frothed from his mouth. He screamed at full power.

  “Noooooooooooooooooooo!”

  Nath snapped up, bathed in sweat. His broad scaly chest was heaving. Blinking, he rubbed his blurry eyes. He was in a poorly lit chamber that looked in deteriorating condition. Fang glowed in his paw.

  Great Guzan! How long have I been gone this time?

  He tore off the sheet that covered him and rose to his feet, headed towards the warm glow of an orange fire in the corner, bumping the edge of the table. A wooden tankard clonked the tiled floor. A mass of nearby figures stirred. Silently, they rose to their feet and came straight for him. He cut them off with his sword.

  “Put that thing away before you cut my beard off!”

  “Brenwar?” he said.

  “Aye,” the gruff dwarf said. He stood with Shum and Hoven beside him. “And what are you doing up already?”

  “Already?” Nath said. “How long as it been? Years? Decades?” He swallowed hard. “Centuries?”

  “Perhaps you should sit down,” Brenwar said.

  Nath sat in a chair that groaned. It felt like it would give at any moment.

  Brenwar laid his hands on his shoulders. Looked him in the eyes and said, “It’s only been a matter of hours. Maybe a day or so.”

  “Are you jesting?”

  Brenwar offered the rarest smile. His stern expression was almost joyful.

  “Would I jest with a dragon?”

  “No,” Nath said, “but I’ve seen you joust with them.”

  Brenwar let out a gusty laugh and hugged him.

  “Come on! Let’s go tell the others. Ben and Bayzog will be as excited as a dwarf in an ale house.” Brenwar dragged Nath to his feet. “Let’s get some
air. Hah! Let’s get some ale!” He marched forward taking the lead, arms swinging.

  “Are you well, Nath?” Shum said, sliding in at his side with an easy gait. “You look flustered.”

  “I’m stiff and sore,” he said, moving his healed jaw in wonder, “but I’ve been worse.”

  “You’re sweating … like a fever,” Shum added.

  Nath recalled his dream. The dragon enemy Gorn Grattack. It was so real. So vivid. Images of his dead friends flashed inside his mind. Something else was eating at his mind as well. Something he’d forgotten. Something important.

  “Bad dream,” he said to Shum. “And I don’t often dream. Not like that anyway.”

  “Perhaps I can help,” Hoven said. “I have understanding of such things.”

  “Perhaps,” Nath said. Something gnawed at his stomach. “How far are we from the bull dragons I battled?” His mind was hazy about the entire thing. It had been so brutal. Why had he fought the bull dragons, anyway? It seemed like forever ago. He started to retrace his steps.

  “We are not far,” Shum said. “Why? We found the sword you’d left behind.”

  Then it hit Nath like the swipe of a dragon’s tail.

  “The gnomes!”

  “What gnomes?” Shum said.

  “The crystal gnomes I rescued from the Floating City!”

  CHAPTER 14

  “They’re gone,” Nath said, glancing back at the others. “We have to find them.” He reached down and touched the stone-hard face of Flupplinn. Why didn’t they take him?

  Shaking his head, he sauntered back to the rest of the party. After leaving the ruins of the fortress, they’d ridden a full day nonstop. Nath had run, keeping pace with the Elven Steeds that hadn’t broken from full speed. All rode but him.

  “Surely we’ll find them,” Shum said, “even if they have a day or two’s lead. We can find anything on two feet.”

  “That’s not what bothers me, Shum,” Nath said, looking towards the Floating City in the sky. Its dark towers shimmered in the morning sunlight, but not one single scaled monster could be found. “I fear they’ve been taken back there.”

  “Then we’ll just have to get them back,” Ben said to him. “If you did it once, you can do it again.”

  Nath rested his paw on the armored shoulder of his friend and said, “It’s not so easy, I’m afraid.”

  “Why?” Ben asked, glancing upward. “What is up there?”

  “Unimaginable terrors and perils,” Nath said, “and that was only a portion of what I found. I can’t risk the rest of you as well.”

  “But there are more of us,” Ben suggested.

  “True, but strength in numbers cannot overcome the overwhelming hordes of evil.”

  “Tell us about it then,” Bayzog intervened, holding the jaxite stones in the palm of his hand. “I need to understand more about what is up there. Tell me everything.”

  When Nath released Ben’s shoulder, the veteran warrior said with alarm, “Shades! Nath, look at your hands!”

  So concerned he’d been that he hadn’t even noticed the white scales that speckled all over. His palms were white, and there were white speckles and jagged lines around his claws. His heart started to swell.

  “You’re doing right, Nath,” Ben said, gazing in wonderment. “I knew you were.”

  There were changes to his hind claws, as well. He grabbed Ben’s shoulders and let out a joyous laugh. He gaped at the white scales and even counted each and every one. There were only two hundred and fifty-three white scales among tens of thousands of black scales, but it was a start. A good one.

  All who gathered there congratulated him: Brenwar, Bayzog, Shum, Hoven, and the other Wilder Elves. They slapped his back and shook his paw. One of the Roaming Rangers even hugged him. There was a great deal of excitement inside the throng of well-tempered men.

  “Nath,” Bayzog said, “tell us. What happened up there? Maybe that explains this.”

  His mind raced through everything from the moment he had left on his quest to save Bayzog: the bull dragons, the spiny back sand crawlers, the skeletons and ghost soldiers, and …

  “The Lurker,” he said.

  “The what?” Ben said, leaning closer. “What is a lurker?”

  Nath’s mind drifted, however. He still couldn’t shake the memory of that foul creature devouring him. The foul smell of its rancid breath still lingered in his nostrils. That had to be it. So many minds had been freed from the horrible being. Hundreds. Men, women, children of all the races, even dragons the lurker had devoured.

  Snap. Snap. Snap.

  “Huh?” Nath said, blinking.

  Ben was snapping his fingers in his face.

  “Are you still with us?” the warrior said.

  “Yes,” Nath said.

  “Well,” Ben said, hitching his leg up on a log. “Get on with it, unless you’ve lost your chattering tongue. And don’t leave out any details.”

  “Alright, Ben, alright.”

  Nath went through everything. The floating rocks. Spying from the towers. Fighting and then running from the skeletons only to have them almost catch him on the floating rocks. The inverted stairs. The fall from the cavern into the river before finishing his battle with the bull dragons.

  “You really plunged hundreds of feet with the gnomes attached to your britches?” Brenwar said, sniggering. “Tell me that again. I’d love to have seen their faces. Stupid gnomes. Always trying to be like dwarves without wits about them. Har!”

  “That’s quite a story Nath,” Bayzog said, holding the egg-shaped stones. “Now I just have to figure out what Otter Bone needed with these.”

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Nath said. “It is a shame what happened to him though. And it’s disappointing he was so deceitful. I’m glad you are well now, my friend.”

  “I just wish you hadn’t needed to risk your scales on my behalf. I don’t think anyone else could have survived what you did,” Bayzog said. “At least Otter Bone was honest about that.”

  “I would have made it,” Brenwar said.

  “Sure you would have,” Ben said, laughing.

  “Let’s go then,” Brenwar said, jumping up and heading back toward the Floating City.

  Nath walked over, grabbed Brenwar, and said, “You’d never make it up the floating rocks. Give me a moment, everyone.”

  Nath made his way through the forest to the spot where the bull dragons had fallen. The piney forest was a disaster. Huge divots were clawed up in the ground. Any trees not fallen or broken were burnt. If he didn’t know better, he would think an army of giants had stormed through there.

  “They should be buried,” he said, running his fingers over the great horns of one fallen foe dragon. Guilt seeped into him. A tear formed in his eye. “They’re still my brothers.”

  He could see poachers arriving after he had gone. Perhaps they lurked in the forest already. Dragon scales, horns, claws, teeth, and meat were individually worth a fortune. The lot would bring a small kingdom. He didn’t want to let the evil Clerics of Barnabus get their hands on it, but there were other things he had to do.

  He sighed.

  For decades, he had protected the dragons. They’d been nearly impossible to find. Now, they cropped up everywhere. And they wanted to kill him.

  Where in Nalzambor are the good ones?

  Again, he spied the city looming above the river, between the clouds. He could see the skeletons still searching the streets for him. Countless heads of the undead clawing for his throat.

  Perhaps there is another way. A flying potion, perhaps.

  His instincts fired. He wheeled around and found himself facing Shum and Hoven.

  “One of our brethren found tracks,” Shum said. “Gnome tracks.”

  “Up the riverbank?” Nath said.

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” Nath said, “they listened to me. How far?”

  “Two miles upriver, towards the River Cities. I’ve dispatched more
Roaming Rangers to follow after. He said the trail was only hours old, but that they moved in a hurry.” Shum said.

  “In a hurry how?” said Nath.

  “As in, something else was already tracking them. Big. Heavy. ”

  “What?”

  “Tracks he’d never seen before.”

  Nath’s blood raced. If anything happened to the gnomes, it would be his fault.

  “Let’s go then!”

  CHAPTER 15

  “Nath,” Bayzog said, “tell me more about the dream. What did you see?”

  “A moment,” Nath said.

  Bayzog caught him by the elbow.

  “We might not get another moment,” he said. “Let the Roaming Rangers handle this. They’re more than capable.”

  Nath pulled away with a fierce look at Bayzog. A dangerous element lurked behind his golden eyes. Power ready to lash out at any moment.

  “You have to be able to rely on others,” Bayzog said, easing the Elderwood Staff in front of his chest. He drew strength from it. Readied words of power on his lips.

  Nath avoided his eyes. “They might miss something.”

  “They won’t,” Bayzog said. “You know better than that.”

  It had been half a day since they departed. The gnomes’ trail drifted from the river and went deeper into the forest. According to Nath, whatever chased the gnomes wasn’t trying to kill them. It wanted to trap them somewhere.

  “We’re close,” Nath said, flaring his nostrils. “I picked up the scent minutes ago.” He’d been running hard, with Bayzog following on horseback. Brenwar, Ben and one more Ranger were behind them, somewhere. When Nath slowed, he clutched his side, wincing. He clutched at it again.

  “That shard in you,” Bayzog said, “it’s gone deeper.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Bayzog could see the weight of the world in Nath’s eyes. And something else. Worry.

  “No secrets, Nath. Tell me about the dream you mentioned.”