Jean Rabe - Dragons of a New Age

“I think the rain feels good. It makes me feel clean,” Feril told Shaon. “But the mares are complaining about it.” She had to practically shout to be heard above the incessant rain and clomping hooves.

“You haven’t heard complaining until you’ve heard mine!” Shaon retorted. “If I’m going to get wet, I’d rather be at sea. Water doesn’t mix too well with dry land. And land—dry or muddy—never agrees with me.”

“Then why’d you come along?” Feril wondered.

Shaon shrugged. “The sooner Dhamon finds what he’s looking for, the sooner Rig and I can reclaim our ship and leave.”

Blister was miserable too, but the kender kept uncharacteristically quiet. Grousing wouldn’t make her any drier. She couldn’t decide which she hated worse—-the extreme heat of the midday sun or this driving downpour. At least she was getting to see some of the countryside. She gritted her teeth and reached into her pack. It took a little work, but she managed to pull out a pair of sealskin gloves to help repel the water a little.

Less than an hour later, the rain stopped. The sky was still black, but there were thin spots in the clouds here and there, and a few stars shone through. A breeze had picked up, and it blew over them, drying them a little.

Dhamon frowned and pulled on the reins, bringing his horse to a stop. There’d be no sky monsters tonight, not with the storm ending. He glanced at his companions, who had likewise halted. Shaon and Blister were grinning, pleased at the improving weather. Water ran in rivulets from Feril’s tight curls. She offered him a weak smile as she patted her horse’s neck.

“The next village is still a few miles ahead.” He pointed a finger toward the northeast. “Somewhere over there.”

“Somewhere?” Shaon laughed. “It’s so dark we can hardly see where we’re going. Who knows if we’re even headed in the right direction?”

“But it will be getting lighter shortly,” he said. “The clouds are thinning, and dawn’s not far away.” Dhamon shifted on his horse’s back, peering to the north. Among the varying shades of gray and black, he spotted a low rise. He nudged his horse, which started off again slowly.

Feril was quick to catch up, and Shaon grudgingly trailed behind. “I’m not getting left alone in this place,” the sea barbarian muttered. “And Rig had better be waiting for me.”

“Sorry, can’t hear you,” Blister said.

“I said it’s great it stopped raining.”

“The rain is good for this land,” Feril was saying to Dhamon. “The ground was so dry back at Dolor. By the way, my arm is feeling much better. Thank you. Where did you say you learned how to heal people?”

“Several years ago, just east of Solamnia.” Dhamon paused. “I was traveling with an army, and the commander saw to it that everyone in his unit knew how to dress wounds. It’s a skill that comes in handy on a battlefield.”

“So you left the army, obviously. But what brought you here?”

“It’s a complicated story.”

“I’ve got time,” she coaxed. “You said it’s going to be a long ride. Were you ever in a battle? Was...” Feril’s words faded as her horse whinnied loudly. Her mare stopped, its eyes widening.

Dhamon and Shaon’s horses stopped, too. They snorted and nervously pawed at the ground, shifting back and forth. The sea barbarian’s mount seemed especially jittery and was tossing its head from side to side.

“What should I do?” Shaon blurted out as she fumbled with the reins.

Blister grabbed the horse’s mane to keep from falling off. The sea barbarian struggled to remain erect behind the kender.

“Something’s wrong,” the Kagonesti said in a hush. “The horses smell something.” Feril’s nostrils quivered, trying to pick up the scent that was making the mounts nervous. She did smell something odd, something unfamiliar.

Fury sensed a problem, too. The wolf threw back his head and howled, just as a bolt of lightning cut through the air—sideways, like a thrown spear. It pierced the neck of Feril’s horse, which slumped and died before it even hit the ground.

The Kagonesti vaulted from her saddle as the horse fell. Agile as a cat, she landed on her feet in a crouch. Her eyes scanned the horizon to the north, but all she could see was darkness, shadows, and low-hanging clouds. Fury crept up beside her with a growl. His coat of red hair stood in a wet, spiky ridge along his back.

“Down!” Dhamon barked to Blister and Shaon. He too leapt from his mount and drew his sword.

Shaon slipped on the wet saddle and fell hard to the mud as another bolt of lightning flashed through the air, just missing her. The horse reared back and Blister was thrown from her perch. The kender whirled head over feet and landed on top of the sea barbarian, leaving both of them momentarily dazed. The mare bucked madly and dashed headlong into the darkness, churning up ciumps of mud in its wake. Dhamon’s horse followed.

“I saw where the bolt came from,” Dhamon hissed. “Over there, that small hill.” He crept toward the Kagonesti. “You all right?”

Feril nodded, then looked where he had pointed, slightly to the east. She concentrated, and her keen elven vision parted the darkness, helping her distinguish the shadowy, moving shapes from the stationary ones of the low hills nearby. What she first thought were bushes were giving off more heat than they should. Then they started to move forward.

“There’s three of them, Dhamon! I don’t know what they are, but they’re coming closer!” She reached into her pouch, and her fingers quickly touched feathers and clay and passed over them, searching for something else.

Dhamon crouched and raised his sword, as one of the shadows stepped forward. Pointed white teeth stood out from the inky background. Blister and Shaon struggled to their feet. The sea barbarian drew her sword and ducked, just as another bolt of lightning shot overhead. It came from one of the grinning shadows! The sea barbarian hurried to stand with Dhamon.

More stars fought their way through the thinning clouds, shedding just enough light now for Dhamon to get a look at the approaching creature. Its shape was distinct.

“A draconian,” he whispered breathlessly. “Feril, be careful! These things aren’t sky monsters, but they’re dangerous!”

“Deadly,” the lead creature corrected Dhamon. It was larger than the other two, practically seven feet tall. “We are spawn. And you are ours.” It closed the distance to Dhamon, flapping its wings to speed its course.

Dhamon slashed at the thing, but it was quick and anticipated his move. It flapped its wings and glided above him, hovering, until suddenly it balled its fists and slammed them down into his chest. Dhamon fell backward, his sword flying from his hand. The thing jumped on his chest and pinned him to the ground. It brought its face close to his, and Dhamon watched in horror as tiny bolts of lightning flitted between its sharp teeth, illuminating the draconians features.

Its scales glistened in the scant light. Its sapphire arms and legs were muscular and thick, and its tail beat against Dhamon’s thighs. The draconians wings buffeted him, shooting a fusillade of mud at his face and momentarily blinding him. Its sharp nails dug into his collar bone.

Dhamon gasped as pain coursed through him, and he renewed his attempts to shove the thing away. It snarled at his feeble efforts and dug its claws in deeper. Suddenly the creature opened its black maw and screamed, jerking upward to confront a new foe.

Shaon had rushed forward and had brought her sword down hard across the thing’s back. She’d managed to slice through one of its wings, which now flapped uselessly, spraying blood and scales. It hissed and skittered toward her, no longer able to fly. Lightning arced around its claws, and its eyes glowed golden yellow.