T Lain - Plague of Ice

A crossbow quarrel struck the dragon’s tail, penetrating its hide just deeply enough to draw blood. The creature reared about to find the source in time for another bolt to plunge directly into its gaping mouth. A flick of the pale, forked tongue dislodged the bolt, and the head swiveled to point toward a snowbank where Lidda crouched beneath the snow. She thought herself hidden and she might have been to human eyes, but one could not fool a white dragon by hiding under snow. The dragon turned in her direction while letting out a low growl that resonated off the frozen towers.

As the dragon wheeled above the towers, the duration of Sonja’s spell ended. The blue aura indicating magic vanished, taking any sign of the rift along with it, but it was still there, still invisibly pumping more and more snow onto this plane. It was easy enough to recognize where it was even without magic; it was the spot above which all the winds originated and away from which all the snow streaked.

Regdar, meanwhile, dashed about trying to find a safe spot for Sonja, who was still unconscious in his arms. Part of him wanted to set her on the ground, draw his greatsword, and plunge into the fray, but he could not abandon the druid. He watched helplessly as the dragon swooped toward Lidda’s position, until Hennet launched a magic missile that caught the dragon from behind. The beast swooped high up into the air this time, training its attentions on the scampering Hennet. Lidda fired another quarrel from her crossbow, but the dragon was too far above and the bolt, carried away by the crosswind, never reached it.

While other dragons breathed weapons of fire, lightning, or gas, a white dragon’s breath was a sustained funnel of ice. It was said to be more cold than any natural chill. Hennet wondered how much colder anything could he than what he’d already felt in the last days, but with the dragon hovering above him preparing to launch its breath weapon, he wasn’t anxious to find out. Aching and bleeding, he pulled himself to his feet along the side of the tower and crawled along its circumference to the far side, facing what had been the forest. He hoped to keep the tower between the dragon and himself, but the creature caught onto his plan quickly. It alighted vertically on the side of the tower. With its wings folded in, it scurried sideways down the glazed walled with perfect grace, rushing toward Hennet, moving to bring him into the range of its breath.

At this moment Hennet wished he hadn’t used up the only charge on the wand of fire. The dragon’s ability to scale walls was probably limited to those covered with ice, so even if a fireball didn’t kill it, a good blast of heat might still send it crashing to the ground. The wand was out, but the thought still gave Hennet an idea. He jogged away to put a bit of distance between the tower and himself, but did not flee. Instead, he fired a magic missile upward, not at the dragon itself but immediately in its path, against the white surface of the tower.

When the missile struck, it exposed a huge, black patch of the basalt surface in the dragon’s path. This barely slowed the dragon as it heedlessly crawled its way past, but a split second later, the impact of the spell set off a chain reaction across the tower. Portions of the ice coating the tower slid free, including the portion beneath the dragon’s claws. Unable to cling to cling to the sheer surface, the dragon tried to spring into the air but couldn’t manage to get off the slick basalt surface. Its outstretched wings sought the air, but too late. Headfirst, it plunged toward the icy ground.

This time Hennet ran not as a lure but for his life. He slid around to the opposite side of the tower and ran back toward the center of the tower cluster, in the direction of Lidda and Regdar. He heard a thundering crash behind him but didn’t turn back to look.

Lidda watched as the dragon thrashed on the ground, trying to untangle itself. Moments later, it swooped out of a cloud of snow and flew almost at ground level after Hennet. She readied her crossbow but then heard a strange noise from above her shoulder. It sounded much like a voice—a flinty, high-pitched, child’s voice.

“Don’t worreee about him,” it seemed to say, giving a strange trill to the r’s. “Watch.”

The dragon bore down on Hennet, teeth snapping and talons clutching forward. Just as it was about to snatch him, a dark hole opened at Hennet’s feet, and he was gone.

Above the wheeling, screeching dragon, emblazoned on the side of the tower where the ice had peeled away, stood the emblem of Wee Jas, rigid overlord of death and magic.

Regdar watched from around a corner, with Sonja still limp in his arms. She felt warm and soft, but he had little time to reflect on this. He blinked, trying to figure out where Hennet had gone. It had happened so quickly. Had he fallen into a hole in the ground? That was the best Regdar could figure, short of teleportation magic.

Cheated of its prize, the dragon snarled and circled back and landed to search the spot where Hennet disappeared. Its muzzle snuffled over the snow, trying to uncover a secret door. As long as it kept this up, Regdar thought, the rest of them were safe.

Then Regdar, too, heard a strange voice, accompanied by a fast buzz like the sound of a hummingbird’s wings.

“Look to the leffft,” it said. “Look to the tower.”

Regdar looked for the source of the voice but couldn’t find it. He did what it said and saw that a door stood open on one of the towers a short distance away. The dark hole beckoned him.

“Get to safety. Quickly!” the voice instructed him.

Regdar looked to Lidda and saw that she, too, was looking toward the open door. When their eyes met, they shared a look of puzzlement and concern, but their options were few.

The dragon shifted its attention from Hennet’s mysterious disappearance to the others. It spotted Lidda first and flew toward her. She scrambled for the open door.

“Hey!” Regdar shouted at the dragon. “Over here!”

The beast turned to face Regdar, then he, too, bolted toward the door. Sonja was light but Regdar felt her weight keenly as he pushed his legs to their fastest, kicking up clouds of snow as he ran. Regdar could hear the smooth beats of the dragon’s wings behind him, drawing nearer and nearer.

Lidda was almost at the door. Regdar was sure she’d be safe, assuming that safety actually lay through that door, but he couldn’t say the same for Sonja and himself. He thought he could even feel the dragon’s chill breath on the back of its neck. It seemed so close and the door so far away. Part of him wanted to turn back and confront the dragon, but he knew he couldn’t put Sonja down or draw his greatsword before the dragon would be on him. He ran on, and the cold along his neck was gone and the doorway yawned before him. Either he had outrun the dragon, or it had given up for some other reason. He raced through the dark opening just behind Lidda, and the door slammed behind them.

They were shut in the dark. For the first time in quite a while, they had real shelter. In fact, it was just as cold amid these ancient walls.

“What just happened?” asked Sonja, who slid groggily out of Regdar’s arms. She leaned against a wall to steady herself.

“We’ll tell you when we figure it out,” said Lidda.

“The dragon attacked us,” said Regdar. “There was an open door on one of these towers, so we ran inside. I heard a voice telling me to do it.”

“So did I,” Lidda said. “I didn’t know what else to do, so it seemed like a good suggestion at the moment.”

“And Hennet?” Sonja sounded desperate. “Where is Hennet?”

“Down below.” The voice was the same one both Lidda and Regdar had heard before. They jumped, shocked to realize they weren’t alone in the dark. Regdar’s hand went to the hilt of his sword, but Sonja put her hand over his.