Chapter Thirty
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Avar and his mama rattled in a snit in their own language for several minutes the next mornin’. The young bull pulled a backpack out of Kevick’s hands and drew it over his shoulders. He was gonna carry his share.
“Them goblins are stubborn,” Morgan whispered.
“Unlike ya ogres, ya mean?” I couldn’t hold back my grin.
“Ya’re my apprentice.” Morgan growled. “Treat me with the respect I’m due.”
“Due? I’d think you’d prefer him to treat you with a modicum of esteem,” Selene said.
Morgan flung the flat of his hand toward the back of Selene’s head but the wizard dodged it and hurried into his saddle. Goblin glances turned on the two, but Morgan strode west without lookin’ back. With a sigh, Selene nudged his mare to follow.
I enjoyed how Selene’s short braid pranced left and right across his back.
Avar fell beside me and the clan funneled into a line behind us, though scouts hurried forward to the left and right, quickly disappearin’ into the early mornin’ mist.
“Yar friends act oddly,” Avar said.
I shared a grin his way. “The ogre is overly stern. But he’s comin’ around with Selene’s constant teasin’.”
“Mama told me about his mate. He must be very worried.”
I resented the jolt in my chest. There had been few enough moments I managed to set aside the forebodin’ that stuck to me like pine tar. The mornin’ started in smiles, the clan ecstatic Avar woke refreshed, insistin’ he was ready to travel. After comin’ as close as he had to greetin’ a six-foot-deep hole, all took it as a miracle. Eyes filled with awe frequently darted toward Morgan.
“Louisa and Morgan aren’t promised to each other,” I said. “I guess ya could say they’re still courtin’. But yes, he’s worried.” I continued to tell Avar about my favorite ogre hen.
“Will these wizards treat her well?”
“From what Lucas could see from the air, she appears well, walkin’ on her own with no tether.”
Avar shook his head. “I don’t know if I could act as levelheaded, if it were my loved one held hostage. I think I would attack with no plan, blood in my eyes.”
I said, “Morgan has a horrible battle ragin’ within him, I imagine. The pre-sight I told ya about, tore him up a mite.”
“Goblins are raised to fear dragons. We’ve been on their menu as long as we have memory. But I’m excited about seein’ one of these Lake dragons—if they are as peaceful as ya say. I watched the sky all day yesterday. My neck aches.”
I was glad a smile pressed away a bit of my black mood. “Maybe Morgan can help you with that too.”
Avar chuckled, that high-pitched hiss that isn’t much like a human giggle. More a nail dragged across slate at steep angles.
I enjoyed Avar’s company, and the conversation, and I was sure Morgan appreciated the goblins’ long-legged, brisk pace spurred my own. Though Morgan would have been happier if I agreed to ride behind Selene. My stubborn challenge for them to go ahead left the ogre growlin’ at me, but he didn’t insist. The bull’s own distaste for horses won me that fight. But I figgered I better not make it a habit, disregardin’ his—preferences.
The easy conversation with my new friend continued nonstop through the mornin’. The terrain maintained its steady, crisscrossin’ rise. The air cooled, and the forest thickened. About three hours after breakin’ camp, Avar and I stepped out on a promontory. We looked east, and I blew out my breath, in awe at how high we’d risen above the eastern desert.
We walked on without a break. The goblins sure are tough, totin’ their enormous packs at nearly a jog, hour on end.
Midday, I was happy to see Selene stopped ahead. Finally, at least we’d break for somethin’ to eat. But the man wore a dark expression.
Reachin’ him, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Morgan has spoken with that queen dragon.”
“Ash’et?” I blurted.
“No, the young one, what’s her name?”
Taiz’lin gave me a rash of grief for forgettin’ his name. Should I clue in the wizard to help him avoid settin’ a dragon off on his wrong side? “Iza.”
The goblins grouped up behind us. They shrugged out of their packs without conversation, congregatin’ into small groups to rest, and eat. My stomach growled.
“Anyway,” Selene continued. “There’s supposed to be an open slide area just over this next rise where the dragons can land safely. Morgan’s gone ahead. We’re supposed to meet him there.”
“Will I see ya again?” Avar asked.
I tried to smile at him, but the wizard’s anxiety washed over me. I glared up at the man. Selene’s face gave nothin’ away. But why was he bein’ so tight lipped? He knew somethin’ he hadn’t yet shared. An eagerness to catch up with Morgan ripped me around to finish up my farewell.
I peered into the goblin’s brassy eyes. “If not, it won’t be because I didn’t look forward to gettin’ to know ya and yar clan even more.” I extended my hand.
The goblin took it in his much larger fist, held it tight. Reminded me, a handshake isn’t their common—thin’. “That sounds—is ominous the right word?”
Didn’t sound like any Standish word I’d ever heard. “It’ll work.”
“Aye,” Avar said. “I wish ya luck.”
“Thank ya. And with yar tradin’, too.”
I gave Avar’s mama a nod. My eyes welled, and I whirled around to follow Selene, angry over the willfulness of my emotions to roil so readily. I forced myself into a jog against the incline and sucked hard for breath. Comin’ abreast Selene’s mare, I shouted. “What is it ya didn’t say?”
Selene harrumphed. “Morgan didn’t say outright. He blanched after speakin’ with the dragon though. Refused to meet my eyes.”
Blanched? Another word I’d never heard.
A minute later we crested the rise and I searched through the trees for the open area Selene spoke of, but the thick trees restricted sight further than fifteen yards. The ground dropped away steeply, and the mare kicked up dust as it struggled with the grade. I turned my back to save my eyes, and Selene veered right, and worked the horse back and forth down the slope.
Each step seemed to drop me ten feet. I struggled to keep my footin’ in the thin, powdery topsoil, focused on the pungent odor risin’ in the air—somethin’ I didn’t think I would have noticed before my senses woke-anew with the ethereal.
A curse from Selene drew me up abruptly. The trees had thinned. A broken, gray landscape spread before us, of craggy granite, remnants of a rockslide an eon ago from the opposite cliffs, of almost identical boulders, eroded by endless weather.
I worked my way to Selene, who stood holdin’ his reins. “I can’t take my horse out on that.”
A hundred yards away, two dragons sunned, wings extended. I recognized Ike’s gray Taiz’lin, but not the other bull. There were no riders in sight. A third dragon, the golden, loomed however, her neck arched in the air, snout pointed at the ground. From where Selene and I stood, couldn’t see the ogre, but I had a good idea Morgan was pressed into the crags of the boulders by the angry, young queen.
“Hurry and see if you can calm her,” Selene said. “She’s partial to you, isn’t she? I’ll stay here.”
“Coward.”
“Ach. Got to stay with my horse.”
“Pathetic excuse,” I said, but I didn’t wait for Selene’s argument.
There was no runnin’ on the sharp-edged boulders, unless I wanted to kill myself. The weight of my pack made me top-heavy and I swung awkwardly like a disjointed—I had heard that word once—pendulum. The best I could do was leap from stone to stone. A dragon’s trumpet added to my awareness that Iza was indeed irritated. Despite my sympathy for the warlock, a grin crept across my lips. I squinted against the sun’s glare off the stones and pressed on. Did they have to land a hundred miles from the forest?
“Should I kill ya along with the ogre?” Iza shouted out.
I stopped, swayin’ over the stone I perched on. Dragons are ten times as gruff as ogres and even less reasonable, though I’d never seen one of their kind follow through with one of their stinkin’ frequent threats. Especially the queen. She often enough threatened to snack on Taiz’lin’s Ike. Now there’s a sarcastic one if ever one was born.
“If ya do,” I shouted in the angriest scowl I could manage, “I promise to give ya indigestion like none ya’ve ever dreamed of.”
The smaller, tan-colored dragon rumbled in a draconic laugh. Iza turned his way. Though I couldn’t see her expression, the bull must not have liked her manner, because he quickly quieted, and lay his head back down. That drew a draconic chuckle from Taiz’lin.
“Ya can shut up too.”
Taiz’lin reached out and nuzzled his mate’s neck. She pulled away from him, her head swayin’ back toward me. Like I wanted her attention.
“Ya know what he wishes me to do?” Iza asked.
I grimaced, anticipatin’ an angry trumpet. When it didn’t come, I answered, “Yes. To take us to yar queen.”
“And why should she care to face a snot-nosed boy, a bumblin’ warlock, and a filthy Northern wizard that I should have killed days ago?”
“Because the ethereal showed Morgan was to seek her wisdom.”
The trumpet made me lose my balance and I tumbled into the deep cracks in the rocks. My hip collided first, followed by my elbow. The impact replaced my vision with a star-filled blackness for a full two-count.
“Ya humans have no grace,” Iza muttered, her head swingin’ a tetch left and right.
A lot of room a dragon has to talk. I’ve seen ’em try to walk. I managed upright. “Why are ya dragons so disagreeable?”
“All of us aren’t,” the tan one said.
Iza swung her head and hissed, “Who asked ya?”
The bull sighed. “Can we get on with it?” He turned away from his sister and his eyes did that whirlin’ thin’ they do when dragons are happy. “I’m Tir, bonded mate of Asr the poet.”
Iza made a noise that mimicked a human shlocking up mucus. “Poet. Ogres don’t possess the wit to compose a cogent thought, much less verse.”
Cogent? Couldn’t any of ’em speak Standish?
Taiz’lin trumpeted—a laugh. Iza shot him a glare. I have to admit her remark was funny despite not understandin’ all of it, but I had the smile off my lips when the queen faced me again.
“Iza, can we focus on Morgan’s issue?” Tir asked.
“Ash’et will never allow a warlock to visit her lair, much less a Northern wizard.” She peered past me and said, “Speakin’ of the devil.”
I looked over my shoulder. Selene picked his way over the scatter of boulders. Iza emitted a gravelly sound, as though she cleared her throat, and I turned back to her.
“He’ll not need that equine of his any longer. It will make a nice snack.”
“Over my dead body,” Selene shouted.
I grimaced. Not the best choice of words to use with an irritated queen dragon.
Iza actually trumpeted a laugh, though I was certain it wasn’t for humor that benefited the wizard. She extended her neck, her head passin’ over me, and comin’ to a stop inches before Selene. I was thankful she hadn’t done that to me. Her breath has an air that turns my stomach.
“Iza,” Tir said, drawin’ out her name. “This belittlin’ of the lesser bein’s is becomin’ tedious. Can we get to it?”
She withdrew, but focused on me, though she spoke to Tir. “What do ya suggest, runt bull-sibling?”
“Do not be snotty with me.” Tir ignored the rumble of ire that radiated from her chest. “Ash’et will very likely kill them straight away without overly thinkin’ about their dilemma. They know what they face. It’s their decision. It’s no effort for us to carry them there. Seems the thin’ to do, if the direction came from the ethereal.”
Iza made that schlockin’ sound again. She reached inside a crevice and withdrew Morgan with one enormous, taloned fist. I jerked. I’d actually forgotten about the missin’ ogre. Iza gave Morgan a bit of a shake.
“He doesn’t know for sure it was from the ethereal,” Iza hissed.
“Ya all right?” I asked Morgan.
“Been better.” He was bent into an awkward backward C.
Iza flicked her claws open, droppin’ Morgan, and he blasted into the rocks. He didn’t make a noise, but it had to hurt. Bad. Morgan blinked several times, eased up, and moved away from the dragon, to my side.
Bacchus eased out of the crevice and floated toward Morgan. Iza must have sensed it, because her neck turned almost into a circle so she could see below her. Taiz’lin and Tir stared with her at the staff, followin’ it until Morgan grasped it. The three dragons blinked in unison, as though each pulled from the same wakeful dream.
“Then we go,” Tir said.
“I’m carryin’ no wizard or warlock,” Iza rumbled.
“I’m growin’ used to the boy, and the ogre’s smell,” Taiz’lin said.
“I’ll haul the wizard,” Tir said.
“That all sounds well, but what am I to do with my horse?” Selene asked.
Iza dropped her jaw in a draconic smile that made Selene step back. He hadn’t learned their expressions yet, but knew enough this one wasn’t for the best.
“Ya can’t eat her,” I shouted.
The jaws clamped shut with a snap. Iza’s eyes turned dark as she regarded me.
“Don’t even,” I mumbled.
“Even what?” Tir asked.
Taiz’lin cocked his head at Iza’s brother.
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