Troy Denning - The Veiled Dragon

“Ruha!” Tombor gasped. “That hag!”

Cypress’s muzzle swung toward his spy, whose eyes suddenly grew as round as his face. The cleric began to stumble down the slope away from the dragon, and Tang felt like a new man.

“The Harper witch s-s-said they were the blossoms Hsieh b-brought,” Tombor stammered. “She tricked me!”

“How unfortunate.”

Tombor clasped his hands in supplication and craned his neck to look up at the dragon. “Please, l-let me go back! I’ll k-kill the Harper! I can get the b-blossoms you need!”

“If that is true, why did you not bring them in the first place?” A white glimmer flashed deep within Cypress’s empty eye sockets; then he said, “Perhaps you knew you had the wrong oil, hmmmm? Perhaps you were hungry for my gold?”

Tombor dropped to his knees and tugged at the silver chain around his neck, pulling a gray velvet mask from inside his cloak. He pressed the disguise over his eyes, then began, “Unseen Mask, Great Lord of Shadows and Master of Deceit, hear the prayer of your most devoted servant-”

“Why do you pray to the King of Betrayal?” Cypress lowered his claw and, with a single black talon, flicked the gray mask away from Tombor’s face. “Do you think he will give you your reward?”

Tombor threw his arms over his face and tried to turn away, but the dragon was already inside his mind. A terrified howl echoed off the cavern walls; then the plump traitor began to pack gold ingots inside his clothes, his stiff and jerky arms obviously moving against his will. Once his robe was loaded, he filled his arms and waddled down to the lake’s edge, then threw himself into the clear waters. He sank like a stone.

The cleric held his breath for a long time, and Tang could see him still clutching his armload of gold ingots. At last, a long stream of bubbles streamed from his nostrils; then he opened his mouth and filled his lungs with water.

Cypress turned away from the traitor and raised Lady Feng to his face. “Now, what shall I do about you? You knew when you opened the cask that it was the wrong oil.”

“It makes no difference-if you have confidence in your own spirit,” Lady Feng said. “After potion wears off, you can subdue Yanseldara’s spirit and make her your slave.”

It astonished Tang to hear Lady Feng toying so boldly with the dragon. She knew Cypress loved Yanseldara only because no one else had ever bested him in battle. Considering that the first combat had cost him his life, it seemed unlikely he would welcome another fight for an even greater prize.

Wisps of black fume curled from Cypress’s nostrils, but when he spoke, he sounded more apprehensive than angry. “I do not want to make a slave of Yanseldara.” He lowered the Third Virtuous Concubine to the ingot heap and allowed her to step off his hand. “I want her to love me, as I love her.”

“You want to absorb her,” Lady Feng scoffed. “She is stronger than you, and you want to make her part of yourself.”

“Yes, to make her mine. Is that not what love is?” The dragon glanced toward the cavern where Tang had first taken refuge. “I’m certain your son would agree-though I’m afraid I can’t allow him that chance.”

“You leave son alone!” Lady Feng warned. “If you harm him-”

Cypress whirled on the Third Virtuous Concubine so fiercely that Tang feared he would murder her.

“I will kill him, and you will do nothing!” the dragon roared. “I have allowed you both to grow defiant, and now I must teach you to obey.”

Lady Feng dropped to her knees, then surprised Tang by kowtowing to the dragon-dishonoring both herself and the emperor. “Please. He is only son. Punish me-”

“I need you.”

Cypress drew himself to his full height, then turned Yanseldara’s staff upside down and wedged the butt into a ceiling fissure. The dragon waded into the lake. Tang retreated deep into his worm hole, beseeching his ancestors to make his foe see only the cowardly prince he had been before entering the swamp.

As Cypress neared the cavern wall, his great bulk blocked the red light from the treasure chamber, plunging the prince into darkness so thick he could not see the stone beneath his nose. The cavern shuddered around his body, and the dragon’s voice rumbled through the very rock.

“… not changed after all, have you, Prince?”

There was a muffled whisper as the dragon inflated his chest, then a sharp hiss as he emptied it into the next tunnel. The exhalation seemed to continue forever, and soon a chorus of soft, eerie trills arose from the treasure chamber as the breath whistled through the network of passages and found its way back toward the lake. From deep within Tang’s worm hole came a muffled clatter of stones, followed by the sputter and sizzle of dissolving limestone. The prince smelled the caustic stench of acid and expected to feel a stinging wind tear over his body, but the wall had not collapsed entirely. He felt only the light nettling of a faint mist. He crawled forward as far as he dared, and at last the eerie whistle died away.

Cypress stepped away from the cavern wall and turned toward the ingot island. Lady Feng threw herself into the water, wailing in motherly grief. The show was so convincing that, had Tang not been raised in the palace of the Third Virtuous Concubine, he would have believed her anguish to be genuine.

Cypress waded across the lake in two strides and plucked Lady Feng from the water. “Be quiet! That coward is not worth tears. He was groveling in the corner like a frightened child.”

The report only drew louder wails from the Third Virtuous Concubine.

The dragon placed her atop the ingot heap, then circled to the far side of the island. “I will fetch the proper oil. When I return, have your ingredients ready to cast another spell-the permanent one.”

Lady Feng raised her head. “Never! I let Yanseldara make slave of you!”

Cypress’s claw swept down so swiftly that Tang did not see it move. It simply appeared beside Lady Feng’s body, trembling with the dragon’s fury, and the prince did not even realize it had touched her until he saw the blood seeping through her shredded cheosong .

“We shall see, shall we?”

The dragon dove into the lake and vanished from sight. Both Tang and his mother remained motionless and did not speak for several minutes. When it became apparent that Cypress would not return, Lady Feng turned toward the prince’s hiding place.

“Are you there, Tang? I know you are fool, but honored ancestors claim you are no coward.”

Tang pushed his head out of his worm hole. “I am here. I see you kowtow to Cypress!”

Lady Feng shrugged. “I must convince him of grief. Besides, shame is removed after you destroy him.” She craned her neck to look at the staff lodged in the ceiling, thirty feet above her head. “Now, Courageous Prince, please to honor humble mother by climbing up to retrieve spirit gem.”

* * * **

Ruha urged her horse forward, once again nudging it between the mounts of Minister Hsieh and the Lady Constable. Vaerana had been on her best behavior since departing the Ginger Palace, but with the wooded hills of Elversult rising ahead and the planning session entering a crucial phase, the witch thought it wise to put herself between the two stubborn personalities.

“Very well. We hide Lady Yanseldara and ylang oil beneath city prison while we search for lair,” Hsieh said. “But who stays to guard them?”

“It’s the Maces’ barracks,” Vaerana answered simply.

“Humble Minister begs to disagree.” Hsieh’s tone was anything but humble. “Maces know nearby lands. Perhaps they search for lair while Shou guard oil.”

Vaerana leaned in front of Ruha, her face already turning the color of blood. “If you think I’m going to leave Elversult in the hands of a bunch of slanty-”