The Eve of the Maelstrom

9 A Fiery Trail

“They’re virtually blind.” Rig stood at the edge of the village, in the shade of the crumbling tower of Brukt. Fiona was at his side, watching the villagers who milled about. “All of them— except that man who says Dhamon cut off his arm.”

A few of the people were preparing a meal at a central fire pit, their sightless faces turned to fruits and vegetables they were awkwardly peeling. Some of the elves who had been rescued from the lizard creatures were helping the villagers skin a boar they had caught in a trap. Most were gathered at the large building.

A handful of the elves recounted the tale of their capture and rescue and listened to the villagers tell about the dragon.

Nearby, Jasper hovered over a female dwarf who seemed to be the leader of the place. She was sitting with her back against the trunk of a young shaggybark.

Jasper’s eyes were closed, his brow furrowed in concentration, his hands held inches in front of her face. Please, he mouthed, as he reached inside himself, looking for that healing spark that Goldmoon once had nurtured in him. Not for me, he thought to himself, not to heal my lung and make me whole, but to help this woman. If I can cure one person of blindness, perhaps I can help the rest. And then, maybe, I can help myself.

For several long minutes he listened to her breathing. He felt his heart beating in his chest and tried to draw strength from it. He searched for the warmth, touching her eyelids. There was no warmth in his fingertips. No healing spark. He tried again.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, tears spilling from his eyes. “I can’t help you.” This should have been easy, he added to himself. He’d done this many times before— before Goldmoon’s death.

Groller and Fury were watching him, the wolf leaning against the half-ogre’s leg. “Jaz-pear no longer good healer,” Groller said glumly “Jaz-pear has no faith in hiz-zelf.”

Feril stood apart from everyone. The Kagonesti had tended to the villagers’ injuries, and she had stopped the bleeding and bandaged the stump of the Solamnic spy. Her limited healing skills were enough for that, but she was not skilled enough to attempt to cure the blindness. She glanced to the east, where the swamp melted into the foothills of the mountains of Blöde Then she knelt and studied the ground, merging her senses with it.

“I wonder if the dragon blinded Dhamon too,” Rig mused, as he watched the Kagonesti.

“If he’s blind, we’ll find him easier,” said Fiona. “He’s only got a day on us, according to these people. That’s what the Master said too, when he contacted us last night.”

“Nothing’s easy, Fiona,” Rig chuckled. “At least where Dhamon’s concerned. Maybe when —”

“I’ve found his trail!” Feril exclaimed. Rig and Fiona reached her in several strides.

“I’ve been over every inch of ground where the villagers claimed Dhamon was,” the Kagonesti said. “Most of the tracks belong to the people who live here or the Knights of Takhisis who died. There’s even a couple of dragon prints. But I’ve found a few of Dhamon’s. I believe he went out the back of this building and came around to the side, right about here. Then he moved into the foothills. There’s a second set of footprints heading away in another direction: a woman’s.”

“The female commander the villagers mentioned,” Fiona said.

Feril nodded. “Probably. They said all the other knights were killed by the dragon.” The Kagonesti turned toward the foothills.

Rig shouted. “Jasper, we’re leaving!”

Jasper put his hand on the female dwarf’s shoulder. They exchanged words the mariner couldn’t hear. Then Jasper motioned to Groller and pointed at Rig. The half-ogre shook his head. He tugged on his hair, pointed to his ear, and waggled his fingers skyward.

“Gilthanas,” Rig muttered. “And the silver dragon. The Master told me they’d be coming to Brukt, to help us with Dhamon.” He turned to Fiona. “Don’t let Feril get too far ahead. We’ll catch up.” The mariner hurried toward Groller.

“Jasper,” Rig began, “Gilthanas and Silvara are on their way. They might be here sometime today. Or tomorrow. Who knows when, but it shouldn’t be too long. Someone should wait for them, but that someone’s not going to be me.”

“Nor me,” the dwarf returned.

Rig pointed to his ear, pantomimed brushing away long hair, like Gilthanas’s, pointed at Groller, then at the ground.

“No,” the half-ogre said. “Go wid you and Furl, wid Jaz-pear.”

Rig sighed. “Jasper, can you...” he gestured at the female dwarf, then whirled to catch up with Feril and Fiona.

Jasper turned back to the female dwarf. “Our companion will come here soon. Can you tell him where we’ve gone?”

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Yes, if you tell me what he sounds like.”

Jasper described Gilthanas in great detail: his voice, his height, his laugh. Then he added, “He’ll be accompanied by a dragon. She’s big. And silver. She won’t hurt anybody. Of course, she might not look like a dragon. She might look like an elf... Oh, never mind. It’s a long story, and we’ve got to hurry.” He smiled warmly at her. “I wish I could help you, but there just doesn’t seem to be anything I can do.”

“Jaz-pear!”

Groller and Fury were waiting for him. “Good luck to you,” the dwarf said, as he squeezed her hand. Then he joined his companions.

The sun was dropping toward the horizon by the time they stopped. They were only halfway up the side of a mountain. Still a good hour of light was left, maybe a little more.

Jasper’s chest felt as if it were on fire. The climb was tiring enough for people with two good lungs. Still, the dwarf refused to complain. He was just grateful they had finally decided to rest. “I thought we were going to take the pass through the mountains,” he said.

Feril knelt on the ground, her fingers sifting through the dry earth. “He went into the cave over there, but then he came out and continued up.”

“How long ago?” Rig glanced up the rocky incline.

“I’m not sure; at least several hours. I don’t think he’s blind. A blind man’s path wouldn’t be so confident. I’ll scout ahead and be back in a while.” Feril ignored Rig’s protests. Catlike, she scurried over the rocks, pausing at intervals to examine the ground.

“We should get a little rest.” Fiona peered into the cave. “I don’t think I can go much farther.”

“If you weren’t carrying all that armor, you wouldn’t be so tired.” Rig pointed to her sack.

“Well, I’m not carrying any armor, and I want to rest, too.” Jasper climbed into the cave, Fury and Groller following. Fiona smiled. “Join us?”

“In a minute.” Rig scowled, took another look up the mountain. Feril was kneeling next to a rock, her fingers dancing across its surface. “Talking to a rock,” he muttered. “All right. A little rest,” he said. “But just a little. When she comes back, we’ll set out again. Travel by starlight if we have to. Dhamon’s too close. He’s not going to get away from me this time.”

Beyond the narrow mouth of the cave was a large chamber that angled back and down into the side of the mountain. Its floor was covered with soil and leaves. Fiona sat against a wall near the entrance where light spilled in. Her canvas sack was between her legs, and from the bag she removed parts of her armor. She looked up and noticed Rig watching her. “Just checking it,” she said.

He sat next to her. The ground was comfortably soft. “They were going to have boar tonight in the village.”

“We could have stayed and waited for Gilthanas.”

“I’m not hungry anyway.” His growling stomach disagreed. He peered into the shadows. “Where’s Jasper and Groller?”

She nodded her head toward the back. “There’s a passage back there. “They decided to investigate. The wolf, too. Jasper said they’d only be gone a few minutes.”

“I thought Jasper was tired.”

“Dwarves are comfortable in caves. Guess it was too tempting.”

Rig was weary as well, but he was reluctant to allow the conversation to die. “It’s dark back there,” he said.

Fiona giggled. “Dwarves see very well in the dark. Where have you been all your life, Rig Mer-Krel?”

“On a ship mostly. No dwarves at sea.” She edged a little closer, and Rig felt the welcome warmth of her arm against his, then noticed her frown. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

She held up a small bowl-shaped piece of armor, one that was supposed to fit over her knee. “It’s dented. All that jostling around in the sack. I didn’t have anything to pad it with.”

The mariner reached to take it. His fingers brushed against hers, lingering, then finally moving to the metal, gently plucking it from her. “Shouldn’t be too hard to fix.” He turned his face toward hers. She was strong, as Shaon had been. But she wasn’t Shaon. She wasn’t a substitute for her, either. She was a knight: rigid, structured, and everything he wasn’t. But she was compelling in her own way. Red hair the color of sunset framed her face. And she was so very close.

Fiona turned her face close to his, raising her lips. He felt her breath against his cheek.

“Rig! Get out here. Hurry!” Feril stood in the cave entrance.

“You found Dhamon?” The mariner pushed himself to his feet, handing Fiona the armor piece.

The Kagonesti shook her head. “No. I lost all trace of him. But I found trouble.”

Feril led them up a steep rise, difficult to climb. The Kagonesti moved fast, waiting for them at the top. She didn’t give them time to catch their breath, however, as she led them through an uncomfortably narrow gap in the mountains.

From their cramped vantage point they stared out over a gravelly slope and into a small scrub-dotted valley painted orange by the setting sun. More than two dozen creatures the color of flame meandered across the floor, stopping to poke at patches of dirt and craning their necks to spy into crevices.

“Red spawn?” Fiona whispered.

Feril nodded. “I’ve never seen any like these before, but Palin told me they existed.”

“Probably Malystryx’s brood,” Rig said.

The creatures’ legs looked like columns of fire; their scalloped wings were the color of blood, their faces humanoid, with protruding jaws. A spiked ridge ran from the tops of their heads to the tips of their tails. The creatures looked similar to the blue spawn Rig and Feril had battled months past in Khellendros’s desert, but their shoulders were broader and their chests more muscular. Even from this distance they looked more intimidating than the blues.

“They breathe fire,” Feril said. “I saw one burn a bush just by opening its mouth.”

“Too many for the three of us.” Fiona kept her voice down. “But with Jasper and Groller, and Fury, maybe we could take them.”

“But what about the others?” Rig gestured toward the end of the small valley, where a dozen more red spawn milled about. Then he pointed to a crevice on the slope across from them. It was a cave opening, and other spawn were standing in the shadows. “Mountain’s crawlin’ with them. Bet they’re looking for Dhamon.”

Feril’s voice grew even softer. “There are a couple more not too far below us. They’re coming up. We can’t stay here long or they’ll see us. Dhamon doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Maybe they’re not after Dhamon.” Fiona tapped Rig’s shoulder. “You said Dhamon was being controlled by the red dragon. If that’s the case, the red dragon wouldn’t send her brood out looking for him, would she? She’d know exactly where he was.”

“Then what do you think they’re after?” Rig asked.

Fiona shrugged.

A dozen spawn in the center of the small valley were conferring, gesturing with long arms, sharp claws glinting. One of them pointed up toward the crevice.

“Maybe we should get out of here,” Feril suggested.

A half-dozen spawn took to the air just as Rig, Feril, and Fiona scrambled out of their hiding place. They hurried down the rocky slope, half-running, half-sliding, gravel rolling all around them. Their hands became scratched and blistered as they reached out to keep themselves from falling.

“Think they saw us?” Fiona asked.

“Maybe,” Rig grunted.

“Yes,” Feril insisted. The Kagonesti pointed up at a pair of red spawn who had materialized above them.

“Damn,” the mariner swore. “They’re fast.” He drew his cutlass. “Get back to the cave!”

There was a hiss of another blade being drawn. “I’ll fight alongside you,” Fiona declared. She glared up at the creatures.

“Come on, both of you!” Feril spat. “You’re too much in the open here.”

Fiona and Rig started to run, but by the time the cave mouth came into sight, a third spawn had joined the chase.

“Inside!” Feril darted inside the cave mouth.

Rig and Fiona took up a position just outside the mouth.

“Inside!” the Kagonesti repeated. “Rig, don’t argue with me. Hurry!”

The mariner was too busy plucking daggers from his waistband. He held three in his left hand, clutching the cutlass in his right. One of the three spawn was diving at him as he loosed the daggers.

The daggers passed through a ball of flame that erupted from the spawn’s mouth. The fire engulfed the spot that Rig and Fiona had vacated moments before.

“Couldn’t see if I scratched ’im,” Rig huffed as he slid into the cave a second after Fiona.

The Solamnic knight risked a glance. “I can’t tell. But all of them are still out there. And there’s more of them coming.”

“We’re sitting targets,” the mariner snapped. “Gonna be cooked worse than that boar in the village.”

Feril was hugging the shadows, her fingers splayed against the rock. She felt its coolness, its smooth and rough textures. Once before she had merged her senses with the stone floor—in Khellendros’s cave several months ago—causing the rock to run like water and flood the blue dragon’s guards. Now, once again, the stone felt liquid, pliable as clay. She began to shape it with her mind.

“Move,” she whispered to it. “Flow like a river.” She poured out her strength. Her senses separated from her body and merged into the cave wall. “Move. Flow,” she ordered.

Rig darted outside again, released three more daggers at the lead spawn. This time he knew he hit the mark. The creature bellowed and clutched its chest, flapping its wings furiously to stay aloft. Its claws frantically grasped at the hilts. It screamed once, then exploded in a great ball of orange flame. Though he was several yards away, the mariner’s skin blistered.

Two spawn immediately behind closed the distance and landed just outside the cave. Rig slashed at the one on the right, slicing through red scales, and drawing a line of brighter red blood along the spawn’s abdomen.

Fiona was suddenly to his left, thrusting forward with her sword. She heard the creature inhale, felt the rush of heated air, then heard the crackle of fire above her. She leapt forward, barreling into the spawn, knocking it back, and narrowly avoiding the ball of fire it had loosed behind her.

The mariner wasn’t so lucky. His spawn opened its mouth and breathed, just as the mariner plastered himself against the side of the cave entrance. Rig felt the searing heat against his legs. He screamed and dropped his cutlass, batting at the flames. Then he screamed again as red-hot claws raked his back. The spawn had jumped on top of him and was pressing him to the ground.

“Rig?” Fiona risked a glance over her shoulder as she brought her sword up to defend against her antagonist.

“I’m all right,” the mariner said between clenched teeth, as he pushed up, managing to knock his spawn off balance. His fingers fumbled at his waist for more daggers, tugging them free, and he hurled them without further delay. One struck his spawn in the chest. The other two flew wide of their mark.

“Rig, Fiona! Get in the cave!” Feril called. “Now!”

The Solamnic knight slashed with a frenzy belying her fatigue. She drew blood from the spawn, forcing it to keep a respectable distance from her.

The mariner glanced into the opening. It seemed somehow smaller. He reached down to his charred boots and plucked two more daggers free. The pommels were fiery to the touch, so he loosed them at the nearest spawn. Both found their mark this time, one in the creature’s throat, the other in its shoulder.

Its scream was inhuman and was answered from somewhere overhead by snarls and hisses—a dozen more of the things were descending. The spawn flailed at the daggers, sizzling red blood flowing over its talons. It opened its mouth wider.

“Fiona!” Rig called. “Get into the cave, now!”

Again the Solamnic jabbed at her target, her sword cutting through red scales and lodging deep in the creature’s belly. Not waiting to see if she’d dealt it a mortal blow, she tugged her sword free and retreated. Rig darted into the cave close behind her. The air at the opening was instantly sulphurous, as one of the spawn exploded in a fiery burst.

“Hot!” Fiona gasped, trying to catch her breath. She fumbled at the catches on her breastplate, fingers flying over the shoulder ties until the armor fell free. “Really hot!” Her arms were blistered from the heat, her shoulders raw where the metal of her breastplate had burned her.

“My cutlass is out there,” Rig said. He thrust two fingers up the band of his sleeve, pulled out another dagger and crouched at the opening. He let out a low whistle and scooted back. “And it’s staying where it is. We’ve got lots of company. There’s an army out there.”

Fiona moved forward and stood next to him, watching the cave grow darker as the stone beneath the Kagonesti’s fingers shimmered. The rock seemed to melt into gray butter and then billowed to fill the opening. Through the small gap remaining, a spawn’s face appeared. The creature inhaled. “Move. Hurry,” Feril implored the stone. “Like water.”

The stone flowed together, sealing them inside the cave. It blanketed them with a cocoon of impenetrable darkness, protecting them from the blast of fire the spawn had loosed. The Kagonesti slumped against the wall, out of breath from the effort.

“I can hear them outside,” she whispered. “Their feet are clicking against the rocks. There must be dozens now. They’re talking. But I can’t quite make it all out. There’re too many voices.” She drew in a deep breath. “Wait. Something about a man the color of mud, about wanting him. One mentioned Malystryx. Malys wants the mud man and his friends. Dead.”

“A black man,” Rig said finally. “Me. The spawn weren’t looking for Dhamon. They were looking for us.”

“That’s impossible,” Fiona replied. No one knows we’re here or what we’re up to.” She was running her fingertips along her arms and shoulders, testing her blisters and burns.

“Except the villagers. They knew we were coming into the mountains,” Feril said.

“They wouldn’t have betrayed us,” Fiona snapped.

“Unless the spawn didn’t give them a choice,” the Kagonesti countered.

“But the spawn were ahead of us, not following us.”

The Solamnic thought a moment. “From Dhamon?”

“He couldn’t have known we were following him. At least I don’t think he could have. Besides, he would’ve fought us himself. He wouldn’t have needed the spawn. Not with that glaive.”

“Then who? How?” Fiona persisted.

“I don’t know.”

“We’ve got to slip out of here and get back to Brukt,” Fiona said. There was fear in the Solamnic knight’s voice. “The village is unprotected, unaware of the spawn. We’ve got to do something so the monsters don’t destroy those people.”

Rig groaned softly as he shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. His legs throbbed. “If the spawn are after us, running to Brukt will only endanger those people. We’ll lead the spawn right to them.”

“The spawn will kill them,” Fiona added.

“And us, too, if we lead them there,” Rig continued “There were at least forty spawn out there in the valley, Fiona. And those were just the ones we could see. We can take a hobble—a small number—sure; bring ’em on. But not an army.” The Solamnic knight leaned against him, and he drew an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll leave when Feril’s certain they’re gone,” he said. “We can check on the village, then.”

“That could be a few hours,” she said.

“Several, at least,” Feril interjected. Her voice was soft. “I’m exhausted. We’re stuck here, unless you can find another way out of this cave. I can’t make a hole in this rock until I get my strength back.”

“It’s darker than night in here,” Rig said. “It feels like a tomb.” He and Fiona groped their way toward a wall and slid down it. She put her head on his shoulder, leaning into him. In the still air, they could hear the persistent clicking of spawn’s claws beyond the sealed entrance.

“Hey, I wonder where Groller and Jasper are?” Fiona mused. “I can’t believe they didn’t hear all this. And they should have been back by now.”