For the first few hours as we flew, the party chatted about this and that. At one point, Terry and Gregor got into an argument about the two-headed eagle. Terry had refused to let Gregor carry it after the fighter had accidentally suffocated Barnaby, which irritated the fighter. So they were snipping at one another for much of the flight. It was friendly, in its own way, but they were like little kids arguing over a new toy.
After a bit of arguing, Gregor flew over to chat with Burin, and Terry began trying to convince Shatha that he should join us permanently. I think it’s because he didn’t want to walk, to be honest. Though, if he was going through the same growing pains I did at that age, then I couldn’t blame him.
For my part, I didn’t chat much. I was focusing on the information flowing through my mind from my newly enhanced headband. Cortana had strengthened its ability to empower my intelligence, which meant my brain could now handle even more knowledge. So I’d loaded up a medical library on my phone and had studied for several hours before we set off, and now my brain was organizing and categorizing the knowledge.
After pulling an arrow from my gut – not to mention what had happened to Greta – I didn’t want to be without information on how to deal with wounds and illnesses. Terry seemed to be a pretty skilled surgeon, but what if he was the one who was hurt? And what if there wasn’t magic healing available to get the job done?
And I focused on enjoying flying. There’s something about it that’s unlike anything else in the world. People will often hyperbolically say that something is better than sex, but when it comes to flying under your own power, it might actually be true. There’s just something about soaring through the skies that lightens any burdens on your heart. At least, that’s been my experience.
After a couple hours of travel, we spotted something in the sky ahead of us. It was a giant fireball, streaking through the air. And it wasn’t making a controlled descent. It would crash full force, a few miles from us.
The shockwave of its impact hit us in the air, nearly sending an unprepared Burin from his saddle. “What was that?!” Bescaylie asked.
“I don’t know,” Burin said. “But it seems to be over now.”
“Let’s go check it out!” I said enthusiastically. I’d never seen a freshly fallen meteor before.
“It is a bit out of our way,” Gregor said. “Should we not hurry on with our mission?”
“He has a point,” Burin agreed.
“Oh come on!” I said. Then I remembered something Daddy had told me before. “Meteors like that often contain valuable materials. It could have something expensive, like mithral, or even adamantine.”
Terry’s eyes lit up at the mention of valuables. “We can spare a few minutes to go check, right?”
Gregor rolled his eyes. “Fine. Let us go. At least we can break for lunch when we land.”
“Race you!” I said to Terry.
“You’re on!” he shouted back, not counting on the fact that he had to convince Shatha now was the time for a race. In the end, it was probably too close to count, as we stopped a ways from the meteor.
Because the meteor was a thirty foot tall red dragon. “That looks pretty dangerous!” Burin said. He was right. The dragon was WAY out of our league.
“But look,” Gregor said. “It is already injured. And a dragon of this size could be a danger to Spurhorn if allowed time to recover.” And of course, him wanting to skin the massive beast had nothing to do with it. The dragon let out a terrifying roar that filled all of us with fear.
“We should still be careful,” Burin tried to say, but was interrupted as Gregor rolled off of Talsune’s back, transforming into a giant as he did so. He struck the dragon as he landed, his massive fist getting deflected by the dragon’s thick hide.
Terry pulled out his gun and began shooting. The bullets were more effective, but even so, they weren’t enough to but barely pierce the dragon’s scales and irritate it. Only the shots to the dragon’s snout did anything, both drawing blood and chipping one of the dragon’s massive teeth.
It was futile to try magic directly on such an ancient dragon, so instead I cast a spell to increase our speed in hopes that we could wear the wounded dragon down with bug bites, as it were. “I guess we’re doing this,” Burin said, leaping from Nevra and also growing in size as he plunged towards his foe.
His axe was also ineffective at piercing the dragon’s scales.
Just as I began to worry that we’d need to flee, something strange happened. Another, much smaller, ball of fire streaked through the sky. Inside the flames was a glint of silver. Over the roaring sound of the fireball, I thought I could hear words. “FOR IOMEDAE!” shouted someone, in Taldan.
I’ve seen weirder coincidences, but this one was definitely up there.
The flames burst outward as the shining silver figure crashed into the dragon with his shining blade. The dragon roared in pain, definitely feeling it. The half-orc leapt backwards and took one look at the situation. He then struck the beautiful sword in his hand – seriously, it was a work of art, at least as good as the ones that the Fairy Blacksmith crafted for her brother Cedwin back during the age of King Arthur – upon his shield.
“I will lend you my strength, warriors!” he shouted. “We will prevent this dragon from taking any more lives!”
His mere presence had comforted me, easing the gripping fear from the dragon’s mighty roar, but this filled me with something more. It was holy power, this man was a paladin, and an extremely powerful one at that. And I could see it upon the faces of all my allies. They were feeling the same power.
Not that it would help me much against the dragon’s resistance to magic. Still, it would provide some protection from its attacks. “For glory!” I shouted as I activated the power instinctively. Then I cast another spell, quickening the movements of the paladin and Gregor, who had been out of range of my first casting.
“GLORY!” my companions shouted as well.
“Gribbletoo!” the paladin shouted. “HEAR ME! I have caught up to the dragon, but there are civilians. We have a code boysenberry! REPEAT! CODE BOYSENBERRY!” I knew that name. He couldn’t possibly mean… no, it was impossible. At least, that’s what I thought at the time.
As we fought, there was a crackle of thunder in the sky and a gnome appeared in the sky. He was wearing some kind of dragon or serpent on his outside like a suit. In his hand was a blue metal scythe. Lightning danced across its blade.
But the weirdest part was that the gnome was wearing clothes straight out of the nineteen eighties, or maybe early nineties. He even had parachute pants. He waved his hands and light shimmered before him, creating the very realistic image of a record turntable.
Music filled the air, a breakdancing beat of some kind, and then he scratched the “record” with his scythe, and nearly a dozen lantern archons appeared in the air all around us. Then they began pulsing like strobe lights.
As that was happening, Terry was unleashing bullet after bullet into the dragon’s hide. Imbued with holy power, each shot was piercing deep into the dragon’s flesh. And Gregor was trying a new tactic. He had realized that his quick blows weren’t as effective as he’d hoped, so instead he tried hitting slower, but much harder. And he empowered his body with the power of his nanites, for extra oomph. And the dragon certainly felt that hit.
“Well done!” the paladin shouted. “But it’s time to end this! Gribbletoo!” He struck his shield again, and the lantern archons glowed with the same holy power he’d infused us with.
The dragon, not noticing the danger, sniffed the air and then turned on Burin, swallowing him whole without even bothering to chew. That dwarf has a problem with getting eaten. I tried hitting the dragon with a cold fireball to help Burin, but the dragon resisted.
The lantern archons thrummed with holy light and then the strobing stopped, and they unleashed massive beams all inward towards the dragon. The dragon had never had a chance against those two. We were merely active spectators.
As the dragon fell, the paladin nonchalantly walked over and carved Burin out of the dragon with a single deft swing. “Thanks,” Burin said.
“No problem,” the paladin answered.
“So,” Gregor said to him. “Falling from even higher increases your attack’s strength?”
“Yes,” the paladin answered. With that, Gregor pulled out his skinning knife and got to work on the dragon.
“THAT. WAS. AWESOME!” Terry said to Gribbletoo, who had landed on the ground and was doing a celebratory break dance. “I want firepower like that.”
“Maybe one day when you’re bigger, my boy,” Gribbletoo answered, reaching up and patting Terry on the cheek.
A look of recognition appeared on Terry’s face. “Wait, you’re the guy who gave me that syrup outside of the cave!”
“Have you tried it yet?” the gnome asked.
“No, sorry. I haven’t had a chance.”
“That won’t do,” Gribbletoo answered. He reached in his pack and pulled out a bottle and a mithral skillet. He then squirted the contents of the bottle into the pan, and it began cooking itself, even with no heat source.
“Are those pancakes?” Terry asked. Gribbletoo just nodded.
“It’s not every day that the Archwizard of Valor’s Triumph cooks you breakfast,” I said with a laugh. Though, in truth, he wasn’t technically a wizard, but a summoner, which is a similar yet very different thing.
“You know this guy?” Terry asked me.
“He and my godmother go way back. I’ve run into him a couple times in the Dreamlands.”
“How about the other guy?”
“I’ve never met him, but since he’s here with Gribbletoo, I suspect that must be Obrek.”
“THE Obrek?” Terry asked, mouth agape. “The Scion of Iomedae?!”
“Yup,” Obrek said, grabbing the first plate of pancakes and scarfing them down, barely even chewing. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten in over a month,” he explained. Gribbletoo handed him another stack, which he also ate.
Burin came over after cleaning himself off. “So, how did you two get here?” he asked.
“Magic,” Gribbletoo answered, handing him some pancakes.
“I saw that for you, but how about Sir Obrek?”
“That dragon attacked one of Iomedae’s temples. A lot of acolytes dead. It even killed some orphans. So I hunted it. Eventually, it fled to a mountain, where there were some ancient ruins. I arrived just in time to witness it activate some kind of magic device, which surrounded it in a field of energy and launched it into the sky. I could detect that the bubble would sustain it in the cold of the depths in the outer void.” He turned to me, “Samantha told me all about how there was no air out there and it was very cold.” He turned back to Burin. “So I tried activating the device to follow.
“Only, it didn’t work right, and instead of giving me full protection, it only protected me from cold. So I had to hold my breath. For a month.”
“Thirty four days, six hours and twenty two minutes,” Gribbletoo corrected, handing me some pancakes. I took a bite, they were pretty good, even without syrup.
“Wow, that beat my old record by almost a week,” Obrek said.
“HOW?” Terry asked.
Obrek shrugged. “My faith sustains me.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Terry said.
I decided to change the subject. “Do you think that’s how dragons got to this world?” I asked, thinking about the temple.
“It’s possible,” Burin asked. “It might also explain how my ancestor came here as well.”
“Your ancestor could hold his breath for a month too?” Terry asked as he tried and failed to feed the eagle any pancakes.
“He probably took the time to study and activate the device properly,” Gribbletoo answered. “Obrek was in a rush. It’s tree first, then star.”
“My bad,” Obrek answered, finishing off his fourth plate of pancakes.
“These are amazing!” Terry said, stuffing a third fork full of pancakes into his mouth. “What kind of syrup is this?”
“I don’t remember what it’s called,” Gribbletoo answered. “I acquired it in the depths of the dread place known as Aye-kee-uh.” Yeah, that’s how he pronounced it.
“IKEA?” I asked. “You’ve visited Earth?”
“Yes. Samantha went with me.”
I took another taste. “I knew this tasted familiar. It’s lingonberry.”
“When this is over, I want more,” Terry told me, a serious look on his face. “And I’d love a copy of this pancake recipe,” he said to Gribbletoo.
“Of course!” Gribbletoo answered, happy that someone was enjoying his creation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a napkin. On it was scribbled a detailed alchemical formula.
“What’s this?” Terry asked.
“Pancakes. Be very careful when you add the acid. It’ll burn your fingers if you splash yourself.”
“I don’t know what any of this means.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
“I think Cortana has my Introduction to Alchemy textbook in her memory,” I told Terry. “I could have her translate a copy into Taldan for you.”
“Thanks,” Terry said.
Obrek, finally done eating, turned to Terry. “If it’s alright, I’d like to look at that gun of yours.”
Terry shrugged. “Sure.”
The half-orc gave it a thorough inspection. “This is well made. A piece of art, in fact. I have a friend who would love to have a gun this fine.” He handed the rifle back to Terry.
Terry pointed at me. “I got it from her.”
“My father made it,” I filled in. “He wanted me to have something to use if I couldn’t use magic. Though I’m not a huge fan of guns.” Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any philosophical issues with them. They’re just not for me.
“Perhaps I will have my friend Oliver look him up then, when I have time,” Obrek said. “Samantha knows how to reach him, I trust?”
“Yes.”
“Good to know. Alright Gribbletoo, it’s time to get going. I’ve been away from the Worldwound too long. I should really get back.”
Gribbletoo nodded. “And it’s time to feed Stanley.” I tried to remember what I’d heard about those two. I think Stanley was Gribbletoo’s sentient golem, but I could be wrong about that.
They walked a few feet away and were struck by a bolt of lightning, disappearing in a blinding flash. “Now that’s style,” Terry said.
Suddenly, Gregor emerged from behind the massive dragon’s corpse, an immense folded skin in hand. “What did I miss?”
“Oh no!” Burin gasped. “We forgot to save you any pancakes!”
“Is fine,” Gregor said. “There is plenty of meat here. I will use my magical campfire and make my own lunch.” He carefully stuffed the skin in his magic bag and returned to the dragon’s corpse.
“What meat does he mean?” Nevra asked.
“I’m not sure you want to know,” I answered.
After Gregor had eaten and the dragonkin had been mollified, we set out once more. The massive, skinless dragon corpse left on the ground behind us. I was almost sad that we’d had to kill it, it had been such a beautiful creature, but it was highly dangerous and would have likely killed many good people if left unchecked.
Plus, it’s not like we were the ones who really killed it. That was mostly Obrek and Gribbletoo’s doing.
As we neared the hut, we spotted it up on its giant chicken legs, fighting with a group of elves. We flew in close enough to get a good view, then landed.
“My money is on the hut,” Gregor said.
“Don’t worry. The hut will win. I don’t think you’ll lose your money,” Burin said.
“Good,” Gregor answered.
“Hey,” Burin called out. “Can you please not do that?”
“Or do!” Terry chimed in. “It’s very entertaining watching you get your butts kicked by a chicken house.”
“Should we intervene?” I asked, concerned.
Terry shrugged. “The hut can take care of itself.”
“But what if the hut started the fight?” I asked.
“Then they can run,” Gregor said. “We told hut to remain here, so I do not think it would follow them far.”
“I’m gonna get a closer look,” Terry said, flying over with Shatha.
“You really should just walk away!” Burin called over to the elves.
“I’ll save you, hut!” Terry shouted, jumping from Shatha’s back onto the hut’s sloped roof. He landed poorly and slipped, sliding over the edge. He barely managed to catch the eave and keep from falling off. His guitar case stopped a few feet back, the eagle squawking with alarm with both heads sticking just out of the side of the case.
“I’m coming!” Gregor said. He teleported up and landed next to the case. “There, there, Barnaby Three. I’m here. Have some dragon steak.”
“You’re not going to help me?!” Terry asked incredulously.
“You are small. Not much weight to pull up. I believe in you.”
“Thanks,” Terry said sarcastically as he pulled himself up. “What are you feeding Barney and Bee?”
“Dragon steak,” Gregor repeated. “Though the head on the right is taking all of the meat and not leaving any for the one on the left.”
“Barney!” Terry shouted. “Share with Bee!”
This was becoming too much. “If I stop the hut from attacking, will you lower your weapons?” I called out to the elves.
“Yes! Please, help us!” the lone elven woman said.
I flew over and landed between them. “DOWN!” I commanded. The hut looked at me. “I SAID DOWN! AND PUT DOWN THAT ELF! You don’t know where it has been!”
The hut looked defiant, then cowed and drooped, like a dog scolded by its master. It set down the elf hanging from its beak and backed away a few steps before setting down.
“Thank you,” the elven woman said in draconic. “I admit, I was not expecting to humans here.”
“Who are you, and what happened here?” I asked.
“I am Jalathal and these are my retainers. We’re a diplomatic envoy from Sovyrian,” she said.
I knew that word. But it took me a second to place it. “From Castrovel?” I asked.
She looked startled. “You know of that?”
“Yes,” I said. “I read it somewhere.”
“You must have access to a very complete library.”
“I do. Anyway, continue.”
“We came to learn more about the peoples of this world, and to establish contact with the various kingdoms. We’d just come from one such place, the home of one who calls himself Warlord Yrax. But despite our various gifts, he dismissed us, calling our gifts ‘unworthy’. And that was after waiting two days in what he generously called ‘guest quarters’ until we could even speak with him.”
Burin gave her a look. “And so, you saw the hut and hoped it would make a more worthy gift?”
“I-“ Her shoulders slumped. “Yes. Sorry.”
I shrugged. “You were trying to complete your mission and took a poor gamble. Learn from it. And maybe don’t try to steal from witches. It makes them cranky.” I gave her a cold glare.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Please forgive me, benevolent Witch…”
“Lyriana,” I said. I’d let them think I was in charge for now. I then took a moment to introduce the others and she did the same for her party. “Okay, now that that’s out of the way, it’s almost night time, so why don’t we offer you the hospitality of our hut. There’s a magical wilderness inside, but it’s quite a bit warmer in there than out here.”
“We thank you, Witch Lyriana. I was not looking forward to having to sleep in a tent out here in the cold.”
I looked around. “Honestly, it’s not even that cold.”
Terry, now down off the hut, motioned me over. “Will the hut even let them inside?” he whispered.
“It should be fine as long as we tell it to do so.”
“Okay.”
“By the way, what is Gregor doing?”
“He’s translating everything you’ve been saying from draconic to Triaxian for Barney and Bee.”
“Why?”
“‘Of course eagle does not know language of dragons. I do not want it to be lost in the conversation.’”
“Right.” I started to walk back to the elves, then stopped. “Did he happen to say why he thinks that the eagle knows Triaxian?” Terry shrugged. “Right. Of course he didn’t.”
Burin stopped me as I was walking back. “I have an idea. What if you used me as the bait? I mean, we need to get into Yrax’s palace. So what if you claim to have captured the Dragonfoe? That should get us in the door with no problem.”
I considered it. “Let’s put that on the back burner for now. I like the idea of trying to sneak in as diplomats or something, but let’s try a tribute that doesn’t risk separating the group as you end up thrown in the dungeon. Or eaten. Again.”
He blanched. “Right. I wonder if being the Dragonfoe makes one particularly tasty.”
Terry and Gregor, having heard us talking, began listing off things that had eaten Burin. Terry then put his hand on Burin’s shoulder. “Well, at least a dragon is a step up from a hamster.”
We talked with the hut and got everyone moving inside. When it was just me and Terry left, something hit me. “Crap!”
“What?” Terry asked.
“Gribbletoo’s a powerful caster. A very powerful caster.”
“So?”
“We should have asked him to separate you and Burin!”
“Fuck.”
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