Jean Rabe: The Lake of Death

“I don’t drop my guard,” Dhamon growled softly, an old memory tugging at his mind, “and I don’t care much for the water. Even the bakali must know that.”

“The water hides your scent, so you were able to surprise them.”

“Sable’s minions are easy to surprise.”

The draconian shrugged. “Dhamon, sooner or later she will send an army here—an army so large that even you won’t be able to triumph.”

“Maybe because she’s waiting for me to accumulate more of a horde so she can swoop in and add it to her own. What little I have thus far…”

“…is considerable, Dhamon, and you gain more treasure with every force she sends against you. I don’t see the point of collecting all this stuff. Frankly, if we don’t do something with it…”

Ragh sat the globe of light at his feet, tugged off the backpack, and upended it. Pouches of coins and pearls spilled out, along with a small sculpture of a nightbird that Ragh suspected was magical, and two exceptional daggers with inlaid handles.

Ragh bent and picked up one of the pouches he remembered was filled with pearls. He hefted it as if to judge their value. Then he picked up his light globe again with his other hand. “This hoard is sure to attract Sable, mark my words.”

The dragon shifted his head and several coins rolled from the mound and clinked against the floor. The silver wisps brightened in the crystal ball and something indistinct appeared in the center.

“Let her send more bakali and knights against me, wherever she can find me. Let her send all the minions she has.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Dhamon’s eyes narrowed. “I do. Perhaps I want Sable to come herself.”

The draconian started pacing, the light globe in his hand causing the shadows to dance as he stepped past alcoves and overhangs. “You can’t mean that. You can’t possibly mean that. Tell me you don’t really mean that.”

Dhamon didn’t reply. He was studying the indistinct something in the crystal ball, cocking his head as if listening to another voice. “Where?” he asked the crystal. “Where?” His eyes narrowed as he leaned his head closer. “Just what is it?”

Ragh stared at him quizzically.

“You’ve told me the ‘where’ of it, crystal. Now tell me the ‘what.’ Saying what I seek is in a lake is not good enough. I repeat, I do not care for lakes, and I will not search one for a mysterious something . I need to know what is so important. What?” The object in the crystal remained indistinct. “Tell me!”

What is “what?” Ragh mouthed. It was all mysterious to the sivak, and he wanted to know what Dhamon was talking about, what Dhamon was searching for in the crystal ball, but he knew now wasn’t the time. The dragon’s rising irritation was already causing the cave floor to tremble ominously.

“What?” Dhamon repeated with a snarl. “What exactly do I need to find?”

Ragh studied his friend, relaxing finally when Dhamon appeared to give up the searching. The sivak had watched Dhamon use the crystal ball before, but he still couldn’t figure out how it worked—and neither could the dragon, Ragh guessed. Perhaps they should have left the sorcerer alive and had him work the crystal’s magic. Perhaps they should go find another sorcerer…

“I should look at that wound.”

Dhamon reluctantly glanced up from the crystal. “It will heal on its own. It’s not deep.” Dhamon idly stirred some of the steel pieces with a talon and drew back from the crystal ball. The silver wisps disappeared. He grunted irritably.

“We’ve got enough treasure, that’s for sure. Pouches of steel pieces, ivory buckles, pearls. We should get far away from here, take the treasure with us.”

“The treasure is meaningless,” the dragon said. “These steel pieces—as valuable as these things might be, they’re worthless to me, yet I find that I want ever more. More!”

The draconian was startled by this statement, and he nearly dropped the light globe and the pouch of pearls. The light flickered and Ragh had to concentrate to make it brighter again.

“I can’t walk into a town with a bulging coin purse and rent a room at an inn or buy a lady’s company, can I, Ragh? I don’t need expensive clothes. I certainly don’t need to buy fancy food. I can eat my enemies when I’m hungry, though the gods know those bakali tasted horrid. I can’t spend a single steel piece, no matter how many thousands upon thousands I hoard.”

“The places where I would he welcome to spend them, Dhamon, I no longer care to go either,” Ragh whispered plaintively.

“So why do I—why does any dragon hoard this stuff?”

Ragh padded over. “Dhamon, I…”

“I want more. Like a man who craves ale, I crave wealth.” He shook his great head, the barbels knocking loose steel pieces from the mound. The dragon stretched his neck and caught Ragh’s stare. Dhamon’s eyes held a great sadness. “Senseless for me to have bothered collecting all this from the men Sable sent against me, senseless for both of us. Whatever possesses me to want all of this?”

“Perhaps, Dhamon…”

“Maybe it’s a dragon’s instinct…this collecting. Maybe whatever shred of humanity is left in my soul thinks I will someday need these coins and jewels. The gods know that when I ran with Maldred we were always after treasure—never could get enough in those days either. Maybe that piece of me thinks that one day again I’ll be able to stroll into a tavern, drop some steel on the bar, and order a tankard of dwarf spirits.” He settled his head back down on the coins.

“Yes, maybe someday you’ll be human again,” the sivak offered consolingly. “There’s magic in the world again. You’ve been consulting the crystal ball about the possibility. I’ve seen you try it many times. Dhamon…”

Dhamon let out a chuckle, the harsh sound bouncing off the walls and causing the stone floor to shudder. A row of spears that had been propped against a wall shifted and a few of them toppled over.

“Ragh, my friend, I stopped being human almost a year ago, remember? You were there when it happened in the mountains, and you followed me here—you, my only friend.”

The draconian nudged some spilled coins with a foot. The light caught an old gold one and made it softly gleam. “Of all the places to settle, Dhamon,” he scolded. “You could’ve picked someplace far from an overlord’s land. There’s nothing special about this damnable swamp— except the constant danger.”

“Sable claims it. That’s special to me, and I’m claiming some of it as my own—more and more and more of it.”

“Stop raging against her, Dhamon. You can’t win.”

“At least I trouble her.”

“Dhamon…”

The dragon raised what amounted to a large, scaly eyebrow.

“Dhamon, this swamp isn’t safe anymore, if it ever was. Isn’t there someplace you’d rather be? Let’s leave this place. Let Sable have her damned swamp.”

“As I said, I didn’t force you to follow me here.”

The draconian dropped the pouch of pearls and shifted the light globe to his other hand. “I’ve no friends either, save you. Where else was I to go?”

Dhamon wrapped his tail around his side, the gesture oddly catlike. After a moment, the sivak tried again.

“You’ve got wings, Dhamon. You can go anywhere. Don’t you want to explore the world? We could go to the Dragon Isles, visit places I haven’t seen in decades, places you have never seen—maybe places where even a dragon and a draconian can spend some of this wealth.”

“Places that are safe?”

“Places that are safer than this.”

The dragon’s expression made it clear he was tiring of the discussion. “I have no intention of leaving because of Sable. In fact, I think I’ll start expanding my territory some more tomorrow.”