Jeff Crook - The Rose and the Skull

"I wish to protest this decision," Valian said.

"Your protest is duly noted. Now give me your rations. You can pick up more food at Isherwood," Alya said. She turned and grabbed the Highbulp by the collar of her dress and pulled her to her feet. "Come along, Mommamose."

Half-leading, half-dragging the Highbulp, she strode into the nighted desert.

Valian watched her until she was well out of sight, then he turned and looked at the puzzled faces of his companions. His lips were an etched line in his stony white face, but his almond-shaped eyes blazed with anger.

"Let's go," he growled.

Not too far away through the pines, the stream roared and fumed in its channel, filling the air with a cold damp mist, which the weak sun did little to dispel. Lady Jessica Vestianstone, Nalvarre Ringbow, and the two gully dwarves Glabella and Lumpo huddled together and shivered, their teeth clacking, while Valian struggled to nurse a spark in the damp clump of tinder in his hand. The others watched intently, as though willing the fire to burn in the stream-soaked tinder.

Finally, however, the elf's skill prevailed, and a small flame rose amongst the grass and shreds of cloth cupped in the palm of his hand. He lowered it quickly to the ground and set small, moderately dry twigs and chunks of pine bark around it, all the while blowing encouragingly at the growing flame. Soon they had a rather weak fire to huddle round, and they held their hands before it, rubbing them together, even though the fire's heat was barely enough to feel. It seemed to encourage them somewhat. Glabella, who'd been snuffling ever since her near-drowning, managed a smile. Lumpo's stomach began to growl.

"That-t-t was s-s-some s-storm last-t-t-t night," Nalvarre chattered. "I've n-never seen Ish-Isher Creek so sw-swollen and raging."

"Neither have I," Jessica agreed as she clasped her elbows and pulled them tight to her sides. "The ford has always been passable, even in the worst weather. I am sorry."

"It's not your fault," Valian muttered. "I should have known better than to trust it, but we had to get across. We've no time to waste."

"Lucky for us you had us rope together like mountain climbers," Jessica said. "When the streambed slid out from beneath our feet, I thought it would be the end of us all."

"Yes, well, it's over now. As soon as we are dry, we must get to Castle Isherwood," Valian said. "We need horses."

"And food," Lumpo added.

Despite the elf's best efforts, the damp wood burned coldly and smoked horribly, preventing them from getting near enough to dry their clothes in any kind of timely manner. It took hours for them to warm their streamchilled bodies and wring the water from their clothes. The gully dwarves looked particularly bedraggled, like drowned rats, and when their raggedy clothes finally did dry, they became so stiff as to be nearly impossible to walk in. There was also something else, some strange almost ethereal quality to their appearance, which none of the others could quite place, until Nalvarre finally put his finger on it.

"They're clean!" he said triumphantly.

Glabella tentatively sniffed Lumpo, then wrenched her face away. "You stink," she said, pinching her nose. "Smell like nothing."

"The air hurts my skin," he complained. "Clean not healthy."

The two set off to find some mudhole to wallow in. The others gathered their things and followed, kicking out the fire before leaving.

A couple of hours' hard marching through the rugged pine forests of Isherwood brought them eventually to a small hill whose top was bare of trees. Across the gold and crimson autumn valley rose another hill likewise bare of trees, but this one was crowned with the crumbling walls and towers of Castle Isherwood. Through the trees on the hill's slope, they saw the trail.

"Come along. We're almost home. There's still much to do," Nalvarre said.

He started off down the hill, while the others followed, but Jessica lingered a moment longer, drinking in the sight. She sighed, glanced at the sky to judge the time of day. Something rising above the far end of the valley caught her eye.

"Look," she pointed. "There's an eagle. I've never seen an eagle around here before."

Nalvarre squinted curiously at the eagle, while Valian glanced over his shoulder in the direction Jessica was pointing. He froze.

"Get down!" he snarled.

"What?" Jessica asked in astonishment.

"Get down, hide, all of you!" He grabbed the gully dwarves and pulled them behind a boulder. "That's no eagle. It's a dragon."

"What?" she said, confused. "Here?"

Nalvarre, who'd already fallen flat, pulled Jessica down beside him. "Lie still," he whispered. "It's too late to try to hide. He'll spot any movement."

It was a testament to the dragon's size that they mistook it for an eagle, for it was still some distance away. It took an almost unbearable amount of time for it to draw near enough for those without elven eyes to distinguish its features. The batlike wings, spreading impossibly wide, cast a shadow on the valley floor, while the tail trailed behind it, whipping, thrashing the air with a sound not unlike claps of thunder. Its scales, red as fresh blood, glistened in the sunlight.

What each person felt at that moment, watching the dragon glide impossibly slow upon the air, was beyond ordinary mortal fear. It was as though they were looking upon a god descending from the heavens, or more appropriately rising from the Abyss, seeing him in his true, undisguised form. His slow, deliberate flight and his tremendous size made them wonder if it was not his wings, but his indomitable and divine will, that held him aloft. They were horrified by his beauty, yet they could not look away.

"Pyrothraxus," Nalvarre whispered in awe.

As the dragon glided over the towers of Castle Isherwood, he began to drop. He descended upon the hilltop, the wind from his great wings ripping trees up by their roots and blasting them hundreds of feet into the valley. His tremendous bulk settled upon the fragile walls of the castle, crumbling them under his weight, and as he grasped two already ruined towers, his huge and powerful claws crushed them to dust. His tail toppled a third tower. Only the strongest tower remained, the one where Lady Jessica had her rooms.

"No!" she cried as she struggled to rise.

Nalvarre pinned her to the ground with his own body. "You mustn't," he said. "Be still. There is nothing you can do."

They heard horses screaming then, and looking they saw the dragon rip the roof from the stables and fling it aside. He reached inside the stable with two of his massive claws and plucked out a writhing, screaming horse. Tilting back his horned head, he dropped the poor animal into his open jaws, then returned to the stable for another, and then a third.

When all of the Knights' horses were devoured, the dragon turned his attention to the final tower. Again, Jessica began to struggle.

"Waterstone!" she cried.

"The dwarf!" Nalvarre gasped. "I'd forgotten about him."

The dragon's jaws gaped, his throat bulged, white hot liquid fire vomited forth, enveloping the tower. The ancient stones melted like wax, bubbling and popping so loudly that they could be heard even from across the valley. In moments, Jessica's home was little more than a pool of molten rock, the rest of the castle a scattering of stones. She wept, furiously struggling against Nalvarre, until finally she grew exhausted and lay still.

Apparently satisfied, the dragon raised its wings and leaped ponderously into the air. The great wings beat down once again, lifting the beast higher and higher as it swooped out across the valley. Jessica and Nalvarre suddenly became aware of their exposure as the dragon turned their way, but there was nowhere else to go. With nowhere to hide, they cowered together, while Valian and the gully dwarves tried to disappear behind their one, pitifully thin tree.