Draka Chapter 368: Obvious (Patreon)

The next morning, Mother and I were woken by Sandstorm’s impatience. She had Indomitable with her, looking amused and no less ready to go than his granddaughter. With no reason to hold us back other than spite over being woken in the early twilight, I told Mother to go back to sleep and to give Herald my love. Then the three of us took off. We had a long flight ahead of us.

We were a silent flight that day. Sandstorm was as serious as I’d ever seen her. I was used to her being a bit of a chatterbox ever since we really got to know each other, but now she was practically taciturn. Indomitable wasn’t much more talkative, content to cruise along with his eyes on the horizon. And I didn’t feel like being the one to break the peace and quiet. The rushing air and the rhythmic beats of our wings was a pleasant background to just zone out and watch the waves go by beneath us as the distant shape of Vanar grew larger and larger on the horizon.

The island of Vanar lay at a bit of a slant, south-west to north-east, and with us coming on from Malyon we reached the island somewhere along its north-western coast. The distance was a fair bit longer than that from Karakan to Tavvanar, and it took us about three and a half hours to cross the Sareyan Sea. But crossing the sea was only the beginning. I didn’t know how far from Vanar’s eastern coast Sandstorm’s island lay, but Vanar itself was about four hundred miles long from where Tavvanar jutted into the Sarey, to the oh-so-imaginatively named East Mountain that marked the extreme other end of the island. I couldn’t say quite where it was that we came in above the mountain range that ran along the north-west of the island, but at the speed we were going I was sure that it would be another four to six hours before we reached the eastern sea.

Not that it had to take that long. I could do it in two thirds of that time if I had to, and Sandstorm kept pulling ahead, then circling back impatiently, but we had Old Man Indomitable with us. I knew for a fact that he could outpace either of us, but he had a speed that he was comfortable with. I couldn’t say if he was still tired, if he was conserving energy, or if he was just messing with us. He certainly wasn’t saying. The reason didn’t matter — we kept his pace, no matter what that pace might be.

More hours passed. We left the mountains for the foothills, and then the vast plain that made up most of central and southern Vanar. We passed over villages and towns, low enough that we’d be silhouetted against the clouds; a deliberate choice on my part, which Sandstorm and Indomitable went along with sans comment. I wanted the people of Tavvanar to know that dragons flew the sky; and even if there was no chance of them recognizing any of us, perhaps it would be enough that they saw us coming from the west.

Not so long ago, this might have served as a reminder of what their ally on Mallin had at their disposal. Now it felt more like a reminder of a different sort: that no matter how faithlessly Tavannar and the League might treat Karakan, Karakan didn’t need them. That Karakan had other allies. Allies that could burn fleets and slaughter armies. Basically, that they should reconsider how they treated my city.

Of course, they knew all about me already. There was no possible chance that they didn’t. I doubted a couple of reports from the country lords about dragons flying over their estates would make a difference to the actual rulers of Tavvanar.

That didn’t matter. It wasn’t why we were passing by. As long as it made a single one of them consider that maybe they were doing something stupid, that was enough. A nice little bonus.

When Indomitable had us land on the eastern shore we’d been flying roughly another five hours, making a total of almost nine hours since we set out from Mallin. It was well past noon, and well past time for a rest.

An hour later we were rested and watered and ready to go. I’d even taken a little swim to cool off.

“The island lies sixty-five human miles east from here,” Indomitable said, then paused in thought. “Seventy, perhaps. This obsession with putting numbers to everything…” He grumbled for a moment in Draconic, then continued. “Draka. Sandstorm. You will approach the island as you see fit. I will remain out of sight between here and the island. Should you feel threatened, you will return to me without delay and at all speed. Is that understood?”

“Yes, yes,” Sandstorm said impatiently.

I understood. It wasn’t like there was much to misunderstand. But there was one thing that had been gnawing at me. “Granduncle,” I said, “I understand what you want us to do. But… why? Why are you and Mother letting us do this at all, if you think it’s so much more dangerous than we do?”

“Hrrm? I would have thought that to be obvious.”

“Well, it’s not,” I prompted him when he didn’t continue. “So why? I thought you wanted me to become some sort of savior for dragonkind. How can I do that if I get killed by underestimating the two who stole Sandstorm’s island?”

“How is a young dragon to build confidence and character, if not through bold action?” he replied. “You wish to raid the lair of a hated enemy. You know the place well, likely better than they do. Well, Sandstorm does. You yourself have proven that you can evade and hide from an adult determined to kill you. And with me here, you have somewhere to run, should things not go to plan. I believe that you have a greater chance of succeeding than you have of getting injured. Yes, there is a chance that you may be killed. That would be terribly disappointing, and should that come to pass, then I suspect I may fly into a rage and do my utmost to destroy both usurpers, no matter the cost to myself. But what sort of guardian would I be if I were to coddle you? If I let you grow weak? That would be a terrible disservice to you! The skies know that you will need to be both strong and clever to secure your place in the world — whatever your heritage.”

“Obvious,” Sandstorm agreed. “Now, can we go?”

“By all means,” the old amber said indulgently. “Lead on. I am here to follow.”

“Right. Right,” I said, thinking fast. “Sandstorm, here’s what we’ll do…”

*

Sandstorm’s island was small. Long and narrow, it was shaped rather like a comet a dozen miles from end to end and no more than two and a half or three wide at the rounded end, where a steep-sided dormant volcano stood. That, Sandstorm had told me, was where her father’s lair had been; there, in a smaller side chamber, was where she’d hidden her tiny starter hoard under some rubble. Not because she thought her father might take it from her, but because the island’s goblins and even the humans who lived there sometimes climbed up to bring tribute and pay their respects. You could never know with creatures that walked on two legs, her father had taught her. They often had far more greed than their meager bodies could justify.

Sandstorm had told me repeatedly that her father hadn’t had much appreciation for humans. There was likely a reason why the only visible human settlement was at the pointy end of the island, as far from the mountain as geographically possible.

When I’d asked Sandstorm how to get into her old home, she’d told me, “From the top, or from the side.” When I’d asked her to elaborate she’d slowly and very deliberately blinked her inner eyelids at me, then said, “Just go from the top.” Armed with that terribly helpful advice, I assumed that at least that entrance must be impossible to miss.

It was.

I approached the island at high alert, eyes constantly scanning the island for any sign of movement. Not seeing anything the size of an elephant or larger, I approached the mountain, skimming its tall sides until I reached the top. And there, as I flew low above the ancient crater, I understood.

From the edge of the crater was a drop of less than a hundred feet. The crater was filled with lush vegetation, but at some point in the past, there must have been magma boiling up here, solidifying into a plug. And in the center of that plug was a crack, like you might get in the crust of a loaf of bread as it baked in the oven.

I landed by that crack and looked down. The inside faces of it were lit, but twenty feet below, the rock gave way to nothing — a void that continued for Mercies only knew how far. I couldn’t see a bottom. I couldn’t see much at all; my eyes were adapted to daylight, and the light inside the chamber below was too dim. Switching to shadowsight simply left me in darkness. But there was a sense of vast space down there, and the faintest scent of precious metals, and that was all I needed to know.

This must be the lair of Sandstorm’s father. Mercies only knew how any intrepid humans or goblins bearing tribute could possibly make it in there. From the side entrance, I assumed, because there wasn’t a rope in this world long enough to let someone rappel down from where I stood. Or maybe there was; I didn’t actually know anything about ancient rope making. But the point stood; it was far, far down to the bottom.

I steeled myself before I Shifted and dropped. There was a reason I’d gone to scout ahead of Sandstorm. Behold Her hadn’t been able to sense me when I was Shifted; I was betting on the same being true for the two bastards who’d taken Sandstorm’s father and her home from her. If they were down there, I should be able to wait in the shadows then sneak out, either once they left or once it became clear that they weren’t going to. If they were gone, I’d simply fly out and fetch Sandstorm.

It was a simple plan, but it didn’t need to be more complicated than that. The shoulds were the part that worried me. Advancements and dragons both messed with shoulds in all kinds of ways.

I fell in silence — the kind of comfortable stillness that you only got when surrounded by a million tons of rock. I soon left the slant of afternoon light spilling in from above, and the chamber faded in from deepest pitch black, revealing an enormous chamber of faceted stone. Its shape was a blunt cone, four or five hundred feet deep and probably half again as wide at the bottom. The few stalactites I could see were long and sharp, but the stalagmites were blunted, like they’d been repeatedly snapped. Here and there, around the base of the chamber, tunnels led off to places unknown. Lava tubes, I assumed; they looked natural. A few were large enough for even an adult dragon to walk through without much difficulty; one of those must lead to Sandstorm’s side entrance.

It wasn’t completely dark down there; besides the tiny amount of light that leaked down from above, fuzzy gray patches along the curving walls and the floor showed that this, like most underground places, had been colonized by glowslime. There was even a glowing pool or two, like in the cavern where I’d first met Mak and Val. That explained how Sandstorm had been able to get around down there; it would still be dim enough that your average human would be functionally blind, but dragons had night vision on par with some animals. Not quite as good as that of cats or other nocturnal predators, but we were still clearly adapted to spending much of our time in places with little light.

I still had a significant advantage. Near perfect was quite a step up from pretty good.

I saw no piles of treasure while descending; more importantly, I saw no dragons. But that didn’t mean that they weren’t there somewhere.

Finding the hoard might have been as easy as Shifting back and following my nose, but I didn’t dare do that. If I Shifted back, I’d have a scent. And as stealthy as I was, I still made some sound as I moved, sound that would have been loud in the near total silence. So I remained in my shadow form, unseen, unheard, and unscented. I moved quickly and easily in the darkness. More easily than ever, as a matter of fact; the more magic I had in my Heart, the easier it was to move in that form, and the sharper my sight and hearing became. If only I’d had my sense of smell, I would have been the perfect infiltrator. That, or Life Sense. But this was no time for regrets. I had a job to do, and one that might, if I was careless and unlucky, come with a very literal deadline. 

Well, probably not. My shadow form was pretty damn amazing. But it was good practice to at least pretend that I might be in danger.

It took over an hour to find the thankfully unguarded hoard. Or hoards, plural; the treasure I found in a large side chamber connected by one of the wider tunnels was divided into two roughly equal piles on opposite sides of the chamber. It was a stunning find: two separate hoards, in sight of each other. I’d never even considered that such a thing might be possible. I’d figured that the two would have each had a completely separate nest within the greater lair, so that the temptation would be as small as possible. But, no. There they were, no more than a few dozen feet apart. The trust between this pair must be ironclad.

Another thing surprised me as well. Each of those hoards wasn’t much larger than mine, and that was after they’d presumably divided Sandstorm’s inheritance between them. No wonder the adults I knew only had two or three feet in height on me, I thought smugly. I may not be rich in years, but I was bloody loaded where it counted!

What didn’t surprise me at all was the powerful temptation to steal as much as I could carry. I’d prepared myself as best I could, reminding myself that we were here for Sandstorm’s hoard, and that if I took so much as a bent copper, the usurpers would know, and they wouldn’t rest until they had it back. Even if I claimed it by making it part of my hoard, I still would have shown them how to find my lair; only a direction, but still. Terrible idea. I did want to help Sandstorm get her revenge at some point, but that didn’t mean that I was comfortable with inviting them to attack me in my home, possibly forcing Mother or Indomitable into a life-or-death fight with an uncertain outcome.

I remained strong. I returned to the main chamber, and there, for the first time since I arrived, I Shifted back, launching myself toward the sliver of light far above. I shot out into the open air, expecting at any moment to hear a scream of outrage, but none came. They still weren’t there. No one had seen me.

It was time to fetch Sandstorm.

*

“And you are sure that they are not down there?” Sandstorm asked an hour later, as we stood at the edge of the crack. I’d suggested taking the side entrance, mostly because I was curious, but she’d rejected it as “Wet and annoying.”

“They weren’t,” I said. “And I’m going down first anyway.”

“Oh. Right.” That perked her right up. “Go on, then!”

I blinked my inner eyelids at her with exaggerated slowness, then dropped. Once at the bottom, after taking a good look around, I flew halfway up and called her down. And with me having tested the waters, she didn’t hesitate. I thought she might have. This place had been her home, but it must also have held some terrible memories. I hadn’t had the full story, but from what I’d pieced together she’d been trapped down here, someplace the two invaders couldn’t get at her for days, until Indomitable came to investigate what had happened to his great-great-great-grandson. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d found that she couldn’t enter again. But no, either she simply wasn’t traumatized, or the call of her hoard was strong enough for her to overcome her fear.

Down on the floor she moved with the familiarity of someone who had spent literal decades living here. When I looked carefully I could see her following a trail, the stone worn smooth by claws and scaled feet. “It smells wrong,” she complained as she approached one of the smaller lava tubes. “They are living here.”

“Yeah,” I said sympathetically. “Is your hoard in there?”

“You should not ask that,” she scolded. She threw a halfhearted glare my way, but she was too focused to put any heat into it. “Wait here. I will fetch what I can.”

I waited, and I forgave her for being so prickly. It wasn’t that I couldn’t imagine what she was going through, both in being here and in being so close to her hoard after months of separation. I could imagine all too well, and it made forgiveness effortless.

Something changed. A shift in the air, a subtle sound… I wasn’t sure what. I felt it in the back of my mind more than anything. It was subtle enough to make me look around, not sure that anything had happened at all.

Then I looked up. There wasn’t any light. By reflex I Shifted, and the cause became clear.

Two winged shapes were descending at speed. The invaders had returned.