Vosper's Revenge Read online

  “I know. I feel it, too. The dragon stone that I carry-the one I found in Darkmouth Forest-it vibrates when the storms come. I'm sure the storms have some magical origin.”

  Does that concern you? asked Nydeired.

  “A little,” said Elias. “But as long as Rali is at Mount Velik with Sela, I don't fret as much. It's our job to protect the king, and I know that Rali and Sela are safe among the dwarves.”

  What about Tallin and Duskeye? Do you think they realize that the sandstorms aren't natural? asked Nydeired.

  “Yes, they probably figured it out weeks ago, but they didn't feel like it was necessary to share the information with us. Tallin is quite guarded-about everything, not just about this. Tallin and Duskeye rarely share their thoughts with anyone, save perhaps the king. Did you see them leave? They flew into the desert tonight during the height of the storm.”

  How will they be able to see anything? The air is choked with dust, said Nydeired.

  Elias shrugged. “They'll manage. I stopped trying to second-guess Tallin a long time ago. I can't predict what he's going to do. The only thing I don't do is underestimate him.”

  Nydeired finished his meal and stretched, curling his white tail around his body. He burped, then yawned, revealing two rows of gigantic, razor-sharp teeth.

  The yawn was contagious, and Elias yawned too, flopping down on the bed. “It's still pretty early, but these storms make it impossible to do anything outside. There's not much left to do except sleep.”

  Nydeired craned his neck toward the tiny window and peered outside. I can't see anything. It's very dark outside.

  “It's the storm. It's a full moon tonight, but the city's under a blanket of sand. Duskeye and Tallin are out there somewhere. I wonder what they'll find,” said Elias.

  Aren't you the least bit curious? Why don't we find out for ourselves?

  Elias laughed and then stopped. Nydeired was serious. “Really? You're not kidding? You want us to fly into the desert during the storm?”

  Well… Tallin and Duskeye didn't prohibit it, right? said Nydeired.

  “No, no… not specifically,” said Elias. “But I can't imagine that they'd be pleased about us flying into the desert by ourselves, especially tonight.”

  Perhaps you're right. We should just stay inside, like baby ducklings, said Nydeired, cocking his head to one side.

  Elias stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He couldn't tell if Nydeired was being serious or not. Seconds ticked by, and they continued staring at each other.

  “Are you honestly proposing that we fly out into the desert during this storm?” said Elias.

  Why not? We'll only stay out for a little while. We'll come back before Tallin and Duskeye even realize we're gone.

  Elias smiled. “All right!” he said. “You've convinced me. We'll go-but not too far from the city. I know that you've practiced carrying me, but never during a storm. Are you sure you can do it?”

  Yes. I feel strong. I can carry you easily. But we should grab one of the larger saddles, just in case. It's safer that way. I'll feel more comfortable if you have proper stirrups and handholds. Nydeired paused, suddenly feeling more concerned. Elias, do you expect us to encounter any danger?

  “I certainly hope not. And if we do, I'd fear Tallin's wrath more than anything we'd encounter in the Death Sands.”

  Nydeired smiled, his teeth glinting in the dim light. Shall we?

  Elias chuckled, despite his apprehension. He learned something new about Nydeired every day. Today, he learned that his dragon was a thrill-seeker.

  “All right-let's leave before I change my mind,” he said.

  They headed to the sandblasted rooftop to fly out into the desert.

  The Dwarves

  Sela and Rali sat in the dwarves' vast mead hall at an arranged feast with the other clan leaders. The clan leaders all sat at the table, arguing back and forth. The rest of the table was occupied by members of the dwarf king's entourage. The dwarf king, Hergung Lindisfarne, sat at the head of the table, drinking mead from an ornate chalice.

  Sela leaned over to speak in her son's ear. “This is ridiculous. I can't believe we're still here,” she whispered with exasperation.

  “I agree, Mother,” said Rali, who was equally frustrated. “It's insane how stubborn they are.” The clans were no closer to signing a treaty than the day they arrived.

  Hergung seemed unperturbed by the chaos. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it.

  Sela slumped back in her chair, struggling to keep a pleasant expression. This was worse than when she went to Redmoor. The first week, they had feasted, and there had been no talk of a treaty or any other type of negotiation. The second week, there had been another celebration honoring the dragon riders. The third week, the dwarf king had finally addressed some of their concerns, but it had become apparent that this diplomatic mission was going to take longer than Rali and Sela had anticipated.

  Rali's guard, Aor, stood directly behind him, as erect as a statue. Aor was an imposing figure, even among humans. Compared to the dwarves, he looked like a tattooed giant. Some of the clansmen stared at him openly throughout the dinner. One dwarf was bold enough to approach him during the feast, reaching up to poke Aor's tattooed leg.

  Aor turned his head and stared silently at the dwarf, who gaped with awe until Hergung ordered him back to his seat.

  Thorin Ulfarsson, Elias' old friend, sat near Rali during the meeting, offering whispered advice and answering questions. Thorin had volunteered to act as Rali's guide. “This chatter is giving me a headache,” Rali whispered.

  The conversation at the table grew even more heated for a moment. Rali noticed that all the clan leaders were staring at him. A heavily-armored dwarf stood up to speak. Rali recognized this one-he was Sundergos, the leader of Odenskapr, the warrior clan. The members of Odenskapr wore armor all the time and spent most of their time sparring. Sundergos was taller than the other dwarves, although still shorter than a human.

  “Cousins, where is your backbone?” said Sundergos, waving his arms dramatically. “Our people are the noblest race in all of Durn! Our duty is to honor our alliances. Why tarnish our spotless reputation?”

  The lone female dwarf at the table lurched up out of her chair, shaking her fist in the air. It was Bolrakei, the leader of Klora-Kanna, the jewelcutters' clan. The fat on her arms rippled and her fingers glistened with goose fat from the feast. She gulped loudly, swallowing the food in her mouth before speaking. “Nay, nay!” she said. Her fleshy neck jiggled while she spoke. Despite her greasy arms and overall grubby appearance, her dress was made of fine silk, and she wore many pieces of fine jewelry. “I disagree with Sundergos! It is not our job to defend the humans!”

  Thorin leaned in and whispered in Rali's ear. “She's a salty one! All dwarves enjoy fine things, but ye'll never find a greedier clan than Klora-Kanna, and Bolrakei is the worst of them all. She'll never risk 'er neck to help anyone else, and she won't agree to anythin' that might endanger her livelihood.”

  Bolrakei ripped another leg from the goose in the center of the table, sniffed loudly, and then took her seat. She tore into the meat with relish, sucking loudly.

  Sundergos wagged an accusing finger at her. “Bolrakei speaks cowardly! If we fail to help the humans, who will come to our aid when Vosper attacks Mount Velik? Who will defend us?”

  There was a murmur around the table, and a few of the other dwarves nodded. Bolrakei rolled her eyes.

  “Sundergos, do you believe that we should send our armies to Parthos? What does our kingdom have to gain from such an alliance? What is Odenskapr's official position?” asked King Hergung.

  “My lord, we cannot ignore our human allies. Brighthollow is not a friend of our people. We cannot expect the elves to come to our aid. We know that Vosper is power-hungry. The emperor will never allow Mount Velik to remain neutral. Vosper will come: make no mistake.”

  “Sundergos glorifies battle!” said Bolrakei. “His clan
is bloodthirsty; Odenskapr craves only war.”

  “I would like to avoid bloodshed,” said Sundergos, “but it is inevitable.”

  “Foolishness! While the rest of the clans labor, Odenskapr fritters its days away in mock combat. They desire only the spoils of war.”

  Sundergos shot Bolrakei a withering look. “Watch your tongue, woman! It is the duty of my clan to defend this mountain. It is our hardship and our glory. We take our responsibility very seriously. In the last war, we lost thousands of good soldiers; I lost my own father and two of my brothers during the battle.”

  “Bah! This is fear mongering!” said Bolrakei.

  “I speak truly, and I won't be silenced!” Sundergos pounded his armored fist on the table. “We shall resist the empire to our last man. Odenskapr votes for a renewed alliance with the humans.” Sundergos sat back down, his armor clinking against the seat.

  “And what say you, Utan?” said Hergung, pointing to the leader of Vardmiter, the builders' clan.

  Utan remained seated, his muscled arms crossed against his chest. “Vardmiter abstains from opinion at this time,” he grunted.

  Rali observed Utan, trying to decipher his expression, but the dwarf's face was unreadable. Vardmiter was the largest clan in terms of numbers, but also the weakest in terms of wealth and political influence. Most of Vardmiter's members were desperately poor. They lived on the lowest levels of the mountain, some in caves and others in tiny stone houses. Many of them were mixed blood, cripples, or other social outcasts.

  Vardmiter had become the default clan for all the dwarves that nobody else wanted. Utan may simply be waiting to see which was the prevailing opinion, so he can go along with the majority, thought Rali.

  “And what say you, Akkeri?” asked Hergung, pointing to the leader of Strikeforge, the weaponsmiths' clan.

  Akkeri stood up. He was very small and stood noticeably shorter than the others. Akkeri was young, at least in dwarf terms. His face was smooth and reflected boyish good looks. Strikeforge's membership was composed primarily of highly skilled metalworkers. Akkeri must be a truly exceptional smith if he was elected to power at such a young age.

  “Strikeforge is sympathetic to the plight of the humans. The humans are, and always have been, our trusted allies. Of course, caution is warranted-assurances would have to be made, and oaths renewed. King Rali is young and untested-but weren't we all, at some point?”

  “So, what is Strikeforge's official position?” asked King Hergung.

  “Strikeforge supports an alliance with Parthos. My clan is receptive to a treaty with the humans.” Akkeri looked at Rali and nodded, almost imperceptibly.

  “Akkeri is young, but he's honorable,” whispered Thorin in Rali's ear. “He's the youngest clan leader ever to be elected, but ye should see his weaponcraftin' skills. Never in all me years have I seen such a gifted smith. He's a marvel to watch! Like a tiny genius, he is.”

  Akkeri sat down, and the last clan leader rose from his seat, stroking his grizzled beard. The old dwarf's skin was wrinkled like an old potato, a testament to a lifetime of hard labor. “That's Skemtun,” said Thorin. “He's the leader of me own clan, Marretaela. He's lived through two wars and countless skirmishes, so he's wary, but he also supports a treaty with the humans.”

  Skemtun's knuckles were layered with thick calluses, hardened from years of mining. He crossed his gnarled hands in front of him before he spoke.

  “My clan refrains from an opinion at this time. However, Marretaela supports a compassionate solution to this issue. That is all.” Skemtun stared solemnly at all the clan leaders for a moment, then sat down.

  The room fell silent for a minute. Then the prattle started again. All the dwarves talked over each other, arguing back and forth.

  Hergung stood up, striking his chalice with the back of his knife. Tap! Tap! Tap!

  “Everyone, please, please… quiet!” Once everyone settled down, Hergung cleared his throat and turned to Rali. “Your highness, it seems we are at another impasse. Our kingdom will come to an agreement on this matter, but it won't be tonight. I suggest we all enjoy the remainder of the feast and revisit this issue again in a few days.”

  Rali suppressed a groan. Blast! The next meeting will be another yelling match, with the same outcome as today.

  Rali glanced at Sela, whose mouth was set in a tight line. His mother didn't attempt to hide her displeasure. Neither said anything-their hands were tied. They needed this alliance, and they both knew it. Parthos could not challenge the empire alone-Vosper was simply too powerful. They were stuck here, at least for the time being.

  Rali and Sela suffered through another hour of idle conversation, then Sela rose to leave. “King Hergung, your feast has been wonderful. While I appreciate your hospitality, I must leave. Brinsop has not been fed today, and I must tend to my dragon's needs. Please forgive me.”

  “Of course, of course! No apologies are necessary. Mistress Sela, don't let us keep you from your important duties,” said Hergung.

  As Sela left the table, she turned to her son, addressing him formally in front of the other leaders. “King Rali, good evening. I shall meet you in your quarters tomorrow to discuss these matters.”

  Rali nodded, dismissing his mother with a nod. He knew that Sela had fabricated an excuse to escape. Rali would be stuck at the table until the wee hours of the morning, listening to endless petty quarrels. He envied his mother's escape, but there was no reason why both of them should have to suffer.

  In his peripheral vision, Rali noticed Thorin pop up from his chair. The dwarf bowed as Sela left the hall. Surprised, Rali spun around and looked at Thorin with a puzzled expression. Thorin was gazing wistfully at Sela's retreating figure.

  Was it possible? Was Thorin infatuated with Sela? thought Rali.

  As soon as Sela left the hall, Thorin sat back down in his chair, a dreamy expression on his face. “What a woman!” Thorin exclaimed softly. Rali locked eyes with him, and Thorin's hairy face turned a deep shade of red. Rali raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, turning his attention back to the ongoing argument between the clan leaders.

  Interesting, thought Rali. He had assumed that Hergung assigned Thorin to be their guide, but now he knew the real reason why Thorin was here. Rali tucked his chin down, hiding his grin. By Baghra's garters-Thorin is in love with my mother!

  The Elves

  Elias rubbed his eyes, which burned from all the dust in the air. “This sandstorm is awful. Even with the full moon, I can hardly see anything.”

  I'll try to get some more altitude, said Nydeired, straining against the wind.

  Nydeired arched his back and flew straight up into the desert sky. A few times, he slowed down or lost altitude suddenly. It wasn't because of weakness-quite the opposite. Nydeired's wings were so powerful that he had difficulty controlling his speed.

  Elias hooked his arm tighter onto the saddle's leather straps, trying to hold on. Nydeired faltered, dipping and weaving while he struggled to control his trajectory.

  “Nydeired, this flight is pretty rough. You need more practice flying, and that includes practice carrying a rider.”

  Sorry, friend. The sand isn't bothering me, but the wind makes it hard for me to maneuver. Shall I turn around? said Nydeired.

  Elias paused for a moment, looking out upon the horizon. They flew for another minute, into the stillness of the desert. The storm was now behind them, and the desert was beautiful. “No, let's stay out for a while. I don't want to return to that tiny room, just to sit and do nothing. We can explore the desert together. I just hope that Tallin doesn't spot us, or he'll be furious.”

  Tallin worries too much, said Nydeired. I wish he allowed us into the desert more often. How will we ever learn how to fly together if we're not allowed to practice?

  “In his defense, Tallin has valid reasons to worry. The Death Sands may be our home, but it's also a dangerous place.”

  They flew on, passing away from the sandstorm and into the desert
. “Hud-leyna!” said Elias, casting a concealment spell around them. “Nydeired, a year ago, it would have been impossible for me to maintain this spell around myself and a creature as large as you, but my powers have improved. Rali was right-it gets easier with practice.”

  It's an odd sensation when you cast that spell, said Nydeired. I feel like I'm back inside my egg.

  “Tallin explained it to me-the spell is actually an illusion. The magic creates an invisible barrier around us, and the shield reflects the environment.”

  Like a mirror? said Nydeired.

  “Yes, that's a good comparison. I performed my first concealment spell over a year ago. At first, I could barely hold the shield around myself, much less another person. Now I can easily conceal myself, as well as other objects.”

  They continued to fly north for about an hour and eventually came to an area with dozens plateaus. Elias noticed an outcropping that would conceal them somewhat. Elias motioned for Nydeired to land. “Let's stop here, underneath that rock.”

  Nydeired swooped down, his enormous white wings scraping the mountainside. They landed hard, and Nydeired stumbled into the dirt. Elias was thrown from the saddle, but he rolled and jumped up like a fighter. Elias was accustomed to these imperfect landings.

  Sorry about that. Are you all right?

  “I'm fine,” said Elias, dusting himself off. “Let's crawl underneath this rock; it's best for us to stay out of sight. I'm maintaining the concealment spell around us, but I need to rest for a minute.”

  Elias and Nydeired crept under the outcropping. Elias watched Parthos from a distance. Nydeired's white scales gleamed in the moonlight, casting gentle reflections on the rocks. “Look at the storm. It's not moving across the desert like a natural sandstorm. It's staying right above the city. That's definitely the work of a spellcaster. Tallin and Duskeye must be searching for the mage who's causing the storms right now.”

  Do you think they'll find him? asked Nydeired.