Dragons of a New Age

26 Blue Death

Judging by how rested he felt, Dhamon guessed it was near midnight. He stepped outside and tipped his face toward the sky. It was so overcast that no stars poked through. Dark clouds stretched in all directions, and the rain that continued to fall was heavy and warm. He closed his eyes and let the drops wash over him. After several minutes, he padded to Feril’s dome. He glanced in just as the Kagonesti was rising. The wolf was nowhere to be seen.

He found clothes roughly Feril’s size and handed them to her. He spotted a child’s tunic that would do for Blister, and a large shirt could replace the yellow one of Rig’s that Shaon had torn and dirtied. His own clothes were in reasonably good repair, but he picked out a soft leather shirt for himself and tucked it under his arm. He might need it later.

The Kagonesti joined him outside, wearing her tan leggings and a dark green tunic that hung below her hips. Through the darkness he tried to examine her bandage, but she wasn’t cooperating much. She slowly spun about, obviously enjoying the rain, throwing her head back and letting the drops splash into her mouth. Every time he moved closer, she took a few steps away, as if playing a game. Finally he grabbed her good shoulder and tugged her closer to the dome, where the doorway offered a little shelter.

“You two have a good sleep?” Shaon purred as she poked her head out of the central lodge. As she walked closer, Dhamon saw that the female barbarian’s dark eyes sparkled with meaning. Blister followed her, yawning and shuffling.

When he finally he got a look at Feril’s arm, there was no sign of fresh blood. The wound was healing. Satisfied, he handed the spare clothes to Shaon and busied himself organizing and saddling the horses.

“The mares aren’t happy about traveling in this weather,” the Kagonesti said. She listened sympathetically to their whinnies and scratched a spot between her horse’s eyes.

“I’m not especially happy about it, either,” Dhamon said. He was thoroughly soaked already, and his clothes felt heavy and cumbersome. Dhamon helped the Kagonesti onto her horse and wedged his new shirt under the saddle. Feril’s dripping curls were plastered practically flat against her head. He reached up and traced the oak leaf on her cheek.

“That tattoo’s there for good,” she said. “No amount of water is going to wash it away.”

“You two want to turn back?” Shaon asked pointedly. “I won’t object if you want to call it quits. Rig and I can drop you somewhere cozy along the coast.” That’s what Shaon wanted certainly—to go back to the Anvil. She’d spent the night dreaming of sky monsters and dragons and being crushed by giant jaws. She wanted nothing more than to be back lying in Rig’s arms on a boat rocking miles from land.

“No. I can’t turn back.” Dhamon leapt on the back of his horse. He untied his hair and whipped it about his face. Below him, Fury shook, too, emerging from somewhere. The wolf threw water off his thick coat in all directions. It was a futile gesture, as the rain continued to drench them. “You’re welcome to stay here with the boy until I come back. Or to return to Palanthas. But I wouldn’t suggest that. You might get lost.”

“You realize we don’t know where to look for these... monsters,” Shaon grumbled. “We could be riding around these barrens for hours. Days even.”

“We’re looking for the Lonely Refuge,” Dhamon returned. “But if the boy’s sky monsters materialize at night during a storm, now’s the time to look for clues.”

“Provided you believe a pig and a little boy.” The sea barbarian sighed. She didn’t want to stay with the boy, who stood in a doorway watching them, and she didn’t intend to go back to the Palanthas harbor by herself. She knew Dhamon was right—without the visibility of the stars, she’d likely get lost, and she didn’t want to risk bumping into any sky monsters on her own.

Shaon ran her fingers over the wet pommel of her sword and adjusted the brown shirt that hung in wet folds over her. “Well, I’ve never lost a fight, yet. And they might need me,” she whispered to herself. “All right, let’s go,” she said loudly. She helped the kender on the horse. “The sooner we’re done with this, the sooner I can get back to the ship.”

“We’ll send someone for you,” Dhamon called to the boy. “But it might be several days. Be careful.” He tossed him a sack filled with dried beef and nuts, a fair amount of the rations he’d purchased.

Dhamon’s course took him past Dolor’s graveyard. His horse’s back was slick and slippery from the rain, but he was a practiced rider, and he nudged it into an easy gallop. The map showed that there was another village better than a dozen miles ahead, almost in a direct line with the Lonely Refuge. Maybe the sky monsters had moved there. It was as good as any place to look, and it wouldn’t take them out of their way. He hoped they wouldn’t miss the village entirely because of the darkness and the sheets of rain coming down.

Shaon and Feril paced him, and the red wolf ran alongside, sometimes darting ahead, sometimes falling back to sniff at patches of scrub grass. The Kagonesti made clucking sounds to encourage the mares, and glanced from time to time at the female sea barbarian to make sure Shaon was managing the horse all right.

“I think the rain feels good. It makes me feel clean,” Feril told Shaon. “But the mares are complaining about it.” She had to practically shout to be heard above the incessant rain and clomping hooves.

“You haven’t heard complaining until you’ve heard mine!” Shaon retorted. “If I’m going to get wet, I’d rather be at sea. Water doesn’t mix too well with dry land. And land—dry or muddy—never agrees with me.”

“Then why’d you come along?” Feril wondered.

Shaon shrugged. “The sooner Dhamon finds what he’s looking for, the sooner Rig and I can reclaim our ship and leave.”

Blister was miserable too, but the kender kept uncharacteristically quiet. Grousing wouldn’t make her any drier. She couldn’t decide which she hated worse—-the extreme heat of the midday sun or this driving downpour. At least she was getting to see some of the countryside. She gritted her teeth and reached into her pack. It took a little work, but she managed to pull out a pair of sealskin gloves to help repel the water a little.

Less than an hour later, the rain stopped. The sky was still black, but there were thin spots in the clouds here and there, and a few stars shone through. A breeze had picked up, and it blew over them, drying them a little.

Dhamon frowned and pulled on the reins, bringing his horse to a stop. There’d be no sky monsters tonight, not with the storm ending. He glanced at his companions, who had likewise halted. Shaon and Blister were grinning, pleased at the improving weather. Water ran in rivulets from Feril’s tight curls. She offered him a weak smile as she patted her horse’s neck.

“The next village is still a few miles ahead.” He pointed a finger toward the northeast. “Somewhere over there.”

“Somewhere?” Shaon laughed. “It’s so dark we can hardly see where we’re going. Who knows if we’re even headed in the right direction?”

“But it will be getting lighter shortly,” he said. “The clouds are thinning, and dawn’s not far away.” Dhamon shifted on his horse’s back, peering to the north. Among the varying shades of gray and black, he spotted a low rise. He nudged his horse, which started off again slowly.

Feril was quick to catch up, and Shaon grudgingly trailed behind. “I’m not getting left alone in this place,” the sea barbarian muttered. “And Rig had better be waiting for me.”

“Sorry, can’t hear you,” Blister said.

“I said it’s great it stopped raining.”

“The rain is good for this land,” Feril was saying to Dhamon. “The ground was so dry back at Dolor. By the way, my arm is feeling much better. Thank you. Where did you say you learned how to heal people?”

“Several years ago, just east of Solamnia.” Dhamon paused. “I was traveling with an army, and the commander saw to it that everyone in his unit knew how to dress wounds. It’s a skill that comes in handy on a battlefield.”

“So you left the army, obviously. But what brought you here?”

“It’s a complicated story.”

“I’ve got time,” she coaxed. “You said it’s going to be a long ride. Were you ever in a battle? Was...” Feril’s words faded as her horse whinnied loudly. Her mare stopped, its eyes widening.

Dhamon and Shaon’s horses stopped, too. They snorted and nervously pawed at the ground, shifting back and forth. The sea barbarian’s mount seemed especially jittery and was tossing its head from side to side.

“What should I do?” Shaon blurted out as she fumbled with the reins.

Blister grabbed the horse’s mane to keep from falling off. The sea barbarian struggled to remain erect behind the kender.

“Something’s wrong,” the Kagonesti said in a hush. “The horses smell something.” Feril’s nostrils quivered, trying to pick up the scent that was making the mounts nervous. She did smell something odd, something unfamiliar.

Fury sensed a problem, too. The wolf threw back his head and howled, just as a bolt of lightning cut through the air—sideways, like a thrown spear. It pierced the neck of Feril’s horse, which slumped and died before it even hit the ground.

The Kagonesti vaulted from her saddle as the horse fell. Agile as a cat, she landed on her feet in a crouch. Her eyes scanned the horizon to the north, but all she could see was darkness, shadows, and low-hanging clouds. Fury crept up beside her with a growl. His coat of red hair stood in a wet, spiky ridge along his back.

“Down!” Dhamon barked to Blister and Shaon. He too leapt from his mount and drew his sword.

Shaon slipped on the wet saddle and fell hard to the mud as another bolt of lightning flashed through the air, just missing her. The horse reared back and Blister was thrown from her perch. The kender whirled head over feet and landed on top of the sea barbarian, leaving both of them momentarily dazed. The mare bucked madly and dashed headlong into the darkness, churning up ciumps of mud in its wake. Dhamon’s horse followed.

“I saw where the bolt came from,” Dhamon hissed. “Over there, that small hill.” He crept toward the Kagonesti. “You all right?”

Feril nodded, then looked where he had pointed, slightly to the east. She concentrated, and her keen elven vision parted the darkness, helping her distinguish the shadowy, moving shapes from the stationary ones of the low hills nearby. What she first thought were bushes were giving off more heat than they should. Then they started to move forward.

“There’s three of them, Dhamon! I don’t know what they are, but they’re coming closer!” She reached into her pouch, and her fingers quickly touched feathers and clay and passed over them, searching for something else.

Dhamon crouched and raised his sword, as one of the shadows stepped forward. Pointed white teeth stood out from the inky background. Blister and Shaon struggled to their feet. The sea barbarian drew her sword and ducked, just as another bolt of lightning shot overhead. It came from one of the grinning shadows! The sea barbarian hurried to stand with Dhamon.

More stars fought their way through the thinning clouds, shedding just enough light now for Dhamon to get a look at the approaching creature. Its shape was distinct.

“A draconian,” he whispered breathlessly. “Feril, be careful! These things aren’t sky monsters, but they’re dangerous!”

“Deadly,” the lead creature corrected Dhamon. It was larger than the other two, practically seven feet tall. “We are spawn. And you are ours.” It closed the distance to Dhamon, flapping its wings to speed its course.

Dhamon slashed at the thing, but it was quick and anticipated his move. It flapped its wings and glided above him, hovering, until suddenly it balled its fists and slammed them down into his chest. Dhamon fell backward, his sword flying from his hand. The thing jumped on his chest and pinned him to the ground. It brought its face close to his, and Dhamon watched in horror as tiny bolts of lightning flitted between its sharp teeth, illuminating the draconians features.

Its scales glistened in the scant light. Its sapphire arms and legs were muscular and thick, and its tail beat against Dhamon’s thighs. The draconians wings buffeted him, shooting a fusillade of mud at his face and momentarily blinding him. Its sharp nails dug into his collar bone.

Dhamon gasped as pain coursed through him, and he renewed his attempts to shove the thing away. It snarled at his feeble efforts and dug its claws in deeper. Suddenly the creature opened its black maw and screamed, jerking upward to confront a new foe.

Shaon had rushed forward and had brought her sword down hard across the thing’s back. She’d managed to slice through one of its wings, which now flapped uselessly, spraying blood and scales. It hissed and skittered toward her, no longer able to fly. Lightning arced around its claws, and its eyes glowed golden yellow.

“Come and get me, you ugly beast!” the sea barbarian taunted. She danced back and forth, and effortlessly ducked just as it opened its mouth and a bolt of lightning shot out. Shaon slashed upward and her blade pierced the scales on the creature’s abdomen. It screamed again, unaccustomed to the novel sensation of pain, and brought its claws down hard. Miniature lightning bolts leapt from its fingers and grazed the top of her head.

Shaon fell back, moaning, her hair singed and her scalp tingling. Her clothes were covered with the creature’s blood, and she grimaced at the stench and stickiness of it. The creature stared at her for a moment, looked down at its wounded abdomen, then growled as it advanced. She jumped to her feet and threateningly waved her sword.

“Get out of here!” she shouted. “I’ll cut you again! I’ll kill you!”

Dhamon scrambled to his feet, saw the tall blue draconian keeping its distance from Shaon, and quickly looked about for his own sword. His eyes grew wide as he saw it under the foot of one of the creatures. This one was broad, thick about the chest and heavily muscled. It grinned at him, then turned its head toward Blister, who was several yards away, and opened its horrible mouth. Dhamon saw the lightning around the thing’s teeth spark, and in that instant he darted forward, his feet scrabbling over the mud. He barreled into the creature and knocked it to its scaly knees, just as a thick bolt of lightning erupted from its mouth. The bolt struck the damp ground, sending up a shower of dirt and mud.

Blister ran forward, waving her chapak in her right hand. Gripping a weapon so tightly hurt her, but she told herself it would hurt a lot worse if the creature cooked her alive with its lightning breath. Still on its knees, it was an easy target for her. She dodged its claws, which were slashing at her. She darted beneath the creature’s grasp, spun around behind it, and attacked the back of its thighs.

Dhamon used the kender’s distraction to pull his blade out from under the creature. His fingers closed on the pommel and he brought the sword up, but the beast was flapping its wings fast and furiously. Dhamon cursed and leapt after it, thrusting upward. His blade managed to slice the dense flesh just above its ankle. The thing squealed loudly as it rose up.

Dhamon pulled back as the creature climbed higher into the sky, out of his reach. He glanced over his shoulder, worried for Feril. The Kagonesti was behind him on her knees, humming and swaying, moving her head in circles and dropping her chin down to her chest. She waggled her fingers in front of her, holding her arms parallel to the ground. As her humming grew louder she raised her arms, still twirling her fingers as if she were working a marionette. The mud in front of her started churning and rising, as if pulled by her invisible strings. It buckled and arrowed away from her, as if a giant gopher was burrowing underneath madly charging the smallest blue creature.

Fury was barking and circling the beast’s legs, dashing in and snapping while keeping an eye on the approaching mud missile. The creature flapped its wings to hover several feet above the ground. It stared at Feril and opened its mouth. Lightning flickered around its teeth.

“No!” Dhamon shouted. He saw the Kagonesti leap out of the first bolt’s way just as a second was released. Dhamon swiveled his head to see the broad-chested beast gliding to the ground, another lightning bolt snaking from its mouth straight toward his blade. When the bolt touched the metal, crackling and hissing, the jolt ricocheted off the sword and into his arm. The sword grew incredibly hot, the pommel scorching his hand. The intense shock raced from his fingers to his chest, then down his legs. His muscles twitched wildly as he fought to maintain his footing.

“Can’t drop it again,” he growled. Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip on the searing pommel and drove the sword forward and straight up. The blade sank into the advancing creature’s abdomen. He pulled it free and drew it behind his head, then followed through with a wild swing that struck the broad-chested beast just below its kneecap. It had launched itself into the air, escaping a lethal blow, but the tip of Dhamon’s sword cut through bone. The creature screamed furiously and began flapping harder.

Dhamon tried to pull his blade free, but this time it was firmly lodged and wouldn’t budge. He felt himself being lifted up. He yanked harder and harder on the pommel, but the beast was bearing him aloft. An image of the boy from the village flashed into Dhamon’s mind. Sky monsters. Dhamon thought of jumping but could not see the ground below so he could judge the distance he would fall.

Holding onto the sword with his right hand, he flailed about with his left until he found a grip on the thing’s scaly ankle. Somehow he managed to climb the creature’s leg as it writhed more than a dozen feet above the ground, trying to dislodge him.

Below, Blister was using her chapak as a slingshot, pelting the draconian with well-aimed rocks. They harmlessly bounced off the creature’s chest, however, and only seemed to fuel its anger.

“That’s no help!” Dhamon yelled to the kender. “Defend Feril! She doesn’t have a weapon!” He had inched his arms up to the beast’s waist and was holding on fiercely. The thing was having a hard time craning its neck so it could shoot a bolt of lightning at him. Instead, it clawed Dhamon’s shoulders and the miniature bolts that arced downward struck his wet shirt and quickly penetrated to the skin.

He nearly lost his grip as the electricity wracked his body. His hair, practically dry now, stood on end—a puffball mane. He felt as if he were dying. Once, a few years before, he had experienced a similar sensation. Dhamon had been ready to die then, but not now. He fought to remain clear-headed and conscious. Continuing to hang on to the beast with his right arm, he slipped his left hand down to his belt, where his knife hung.

His fingers clutched the handle, then drove upward, slamming the small blade repeatedly into the thing’s side. The draconian gyrated in the air, trying futilely to dislodge its unwanted passenger. It was all Dhamon could do to hold on as the battle continued.

Below, he could see Feril still trying to work her nature magic. She gestured with her fingers, weaving a pale green pattern in the air. As the design brightened and began glowing wildly, she threw back her head and howled. Dhamon blinked in astonishment. She sounded exactly like Fury!

As her cry died, the earth missile she’d been crafting exploded into the air and struck the small draconian in front of her. The wet earth projectile caught the thing off guard, slamming into the center of its chest. It was thrown backward through the air from the terrific impact. Its wings no longer flapping, it struck the ground, and was immediately cornered by the red wolf, which barked and snapped at it.

Meanwhile Shaon was advancing on the tall beast she’d been keeping at bay. The thing regarded her cautiously. Lightning crackled from its hands, but the sea barbarian was too quick for the miniature bolts. She darted forward and sliced through its remaining good wing, ensuring that the creature would stay hopelessly earthbound and not be able to escape her. The sea barbarian nimbly avoided the next barrage of lightning that sprang from the beast, though it was clear she hadn’t avoided all the bolts. Her shirt and the black tunic hung on her in singed tatters.

Dhamon’s attention was forced back to his own enemy as it began climbing higher. Its sharp claws raked into his back, sending a wave of pain through him. The creature was trying to pull him off, but Dhamon wrapped his legs even more strongly about the its calves, giving him a better purchase. He felt the things claws rake his skin again, ripping his flesh, and then he felt the warm puddle of blood on his back.

Again, Dhamon drove his knife into the creature, this time higher on its chest, just under its breastbone. The blade sank in, and he tugged it free and plunged it in once more.

“You’ve got to have a heart inside you someplace,” he cursed. Again his hand flashed as the stickiness of the creature’s blood ran down his fingers. The thing yowled, this time sounding almost pathetic, and Dhamon summoned all his strength as he drove the blade in deeper than seemed possible. This time it lodged in bone and Dhamon couldn’t yank it free.

The beast shuddered, then it seemed to disappear, and Dhamon’s fingers closed around air. A flash filled the sky, taking the creature’s place. A bright golden light filled Dhamon’s senses as a ball of lightning burst where the thing had been present a moment before. The air crackled and then the ground rushed up to meet him, and he struck the earth hard, the air exploding from his lungs. Dazed, he glanced up. He could see only the night sky and a few stars twinkling down at him.

“Die!” Shaon was shouting at her opponent. The sea barbarian lunged forward, shoving her sword into her foe’s belly. At the same time its maw opened and a bolt of crackling lightning raced to strike her chest. She was knocked back several feet.

The creature looked down at the sword buried in its body. Its claws fumbled with the pommel, found a grip, then tugged it free. The beast seemed oddly energized by its wound. It held the weapon up, and lightning from its claws raced up the hilt and along the blade, flashing and sparkling like a fireworks show. Grinning, it advanced on her, waving the crackling weapon.

Fury raced toward it. The red wolf darted inside of its reach and sank its teeth into the beast’s calf. The creature gave a shriek and brought the sparking blade down on the wolf. But Fury was quicker and raced around behind it. The blade cleaved only red hair.

Dhamon struggled to his knees, risking a glance behind him. Feril was using the mud to bury her draconian opponent, pin it to the ground. Blister stood over it, whacking at its chest with her chapak. The creature harmlessly spewed lightning. Overhead, the sky thundered in response.

Forcing himself to his feet, Dhamon grabbed his blade, then took a deep breath and rushed to stand with Shaon. The beast sidestepped the wolf and was closing.

“I can fight my own battles, Dhamon!” Shaon yelled. “I don’t need any help!”

“Maybe so, but you can’t fight very well without a sword!” he called back.

The sea barbarian stubbornly dodged around Dhamon and claimed the creature’s attention. It lunged toward her. Distracted by her movements, it forgot about the wolf. A fatal mistake. Fury leapt on its back, and the beast plunged face-forward into the mud.

Shaon slammed her heel down hard on the back of its scaly hand. It released the grip on her sword. As she bent to scoop it up, the creature twisted around and angled its claws at Shaon, sending an electrical charge her way.

Shaon screamed, dropping to her knees. She shut her eyes to try to keep out the bright burning light, but still the jagged flickers danced everywhere. Fumbling about on the ground, her fingers brushed across the hilt of her sword. She grabbed it and blindly swung it where she thought the creature’s head was.

“Watch out!” a nearby Dhamon snapped. “You almost skewered me!” He’d lunged toward the thing and now had joined the close-quarters fighting.

“Then get back! This thing’s mine!” Shaon had to crawl away, however, blinking to clear her vision.

From behind, Fury closed his jaws on the beast’s neck. The creature howled as it pushed itself to its knees. The wolf dug his teeth in deeper. Dhamon lashed out at the thing and his sword cut through the dense flesh of its arm. The creature fell forward again amid a bright flash—-a burst of lightning that sent Fury yelping.

Dhamon’s arm shot up just in time to cover his eyes, but the electricity rushed out to envelop him and Shaon. It burned and made their teeth chatter with shock. Then as quick as the sensation surrounded them, it seemed to dissipate.

“What’s happening?” the sea barbarian cried. “I can barely see anything!”

“Look! It exploded!” the kender squealed. “Dhamon killed it!”

Fury growled and stood up, shaking himself. His red hair was standing on end, making him appear fluffy and nearly half-again his size. The creature was gone, but there was a bowl-shaped depression in the mud where it had been. Shaon knelt just beyond it, still blinking wildy.

Looking over his shoulder, Dhamon could see Feril was in no real danger, so he helped the sea barbarian up. Her vision was slowly returning.

“It was mine to finish,” she complained. Shaon frowned and felt about her face and head. Her short hair was singed, and a scorch mark ran nearly the entire length of her left arm. “It’ll scar,” Shaon mumbled. “A little souvenir of tonight.” Dhamon pointed toward Feril and Blister.

“We really caught it!” Blister said breathlessly. The kender leveled her chapak over the thing’s face. “You open your mouth and breathe lightning, and I’ll cut your head in two!”

The beast struggled, but Feril had piled enough mud on top of it that it wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

“Why’d you attack us?” Dhamon demanded.

The blue thing locked its eyes onto his and hissed. “Master’s orders.”

“Your master ordered you to attack us?”

“Attack humans,” it sneered. “Capture humans.”

“I guess we taught you a lesson,” Blister taunted. “Hey, Dhamon, how’d you know this thing could talk? Wow, you’re hurt pretty bad.”

“All draconians talk,” Dhamon answered. “And this one had better talk a little more unless it wants to join its fellows in oblivion.”

“Spawn,” the creature hissed. “We are not draconians. We are better, stronger, more. We are spawn.”

“Who is this supposed master?” Dhamon stood above the creature now, his hand tightly gripping his sword’s pommel. Blister stood opposite him. Both of them stared down into the spawn’s face.

“The Portal Master,” it hissed. “Only he commands me.”

“Gibberish,” Dhamon cursed.

“The Storm made us,” the spawn continued. “Shaped us from flesh and tears, made us creatures of lightning. And the Storm shall slay you.”

“Why does your master command you to attack people?” Blister asked. She winced as she switched her chapak to her other hand and waved the kender weapon for effect.

“Doesn’t want kender. Only humans,” it hissed. “The Master only wants humans.”

“I see,” she said offended. “So you would have captured Dhamon and Shaon and left me and Feril alone.”

“You and the elf,” it sneered, as lightning flickered along its lips, “we would have killed you.”

“The village,” Dhamon said, drawing the thing’s attention. He pointed in the direction from which they’d come. “Did you take all the people from that village?”

What approximated a smile spread across the blue spawn’s scaly face. “That village, and others. For the glory of the Portal Master. Our master and sire.”

That answered the grim mystery. Dhamon looked at the thing in horror.

“What shall we do with it?” Feril asked Dhamon. “We can’t let it loose. It’ll only go after more people.”

“I say we kill it!” Shaon suggested eagerly. The sea barbarian stepped closer and shouldered her sword. Her dark eyes were rimmed by red. “I’m willing to do the job. Step back.”

“No!” Dhamon held a hand out to stop her.

“No?” Blister asked incredulously. “If we leave it here, it’ll dig itself out eventually.”

The creature grinned, showing its sharp, glowing teeth.

“I want to take it with us, to Palin’s.”

Shaon groaned. “You’re crazy, Dhamon.”

“Palin’s supposedly a sorcerer, and the Lonely Refuge can’t be that far away. We can herd it there. If you kill it, the thing will disappear and we’ll have nothing, no evidence to study.”

“Fine,” the sea barbarian said with supreme annoyance. “We don’t have any rope. It’s miles to the next village—which might be deserted. And we don’t have any horses. Yours and mine ran off. Feril’s is buzzard food.”

The Kagonesti shot her a vexed look.

“We’ll use our belts to tie it,” Dhamon suggested. “Brilliant,” Shaon retorted. “Don’t you think it’s strong enough to snap them?”

“I have an idea.” Feril knelt on the ground by the creature and thrust her fingers into her pouch. She pulled out a dried bean seed. “I don’t know if I have enough energy, but I’ll try.” “Try what?” Blister wondered aloud. The kender stepped away from the spawn and stood behind the elf, where she could take in the whole show.

Feril held the seed above the creature’s mud-covered chest. “As tiny as this seed is, so shall you be.” She made a small impression in the mud with her thumb, placed the seed gently inside, and brushed a bit of mud over the top to cover it.

Then she rocked back on her heels, closed her eyes, and sang. The words were elvish, something Dhamon, Blister, and Shaon couldn’t make out. Throaty and rich, the song’s melody was soft and slow, and the breeze that rustled their tattered clothes seemed an apt accompaniment to it. As the tempo increased, Feril’s skin took on a soft sheen, practically glowing. Her fingertips glistened, and she moved them over the spawn’s form.

She drew her hands together, as if she were praying, and the glow intensified. Then she separated them and placed her palms a few inches above the seed. The glow spread to the mud, centered on the spot where the bean was buried.

Blister gasped. The seed began to sprout, a small green nub emerging from the earth. Beneath it, the spawn struggled more fiercely. The nub grew longer, a thin tendril rose toward Peril’s hands. When it was several inches long, the Kagonesti withdrew her hands. In that instant, the green shoot curled over and plunged into the mud near to where its seed had been planted.

Feril continued singing. She pictured the thing shrinking, folding in on itself. But it wasn’t working quite correctly. She had to stop her song, and as she did so, the shoot began to wither. “It’s no use.”

“Try again,” Dhamon urged. “Please.”

She sighed and resumed her song, which seemed much sadder now. Again she held her palms over the bean seed. Fury came over next to her. But the red wolf wasn’t lending morale support. It yawned, stretched and lay down, resting its head on her leg and idly watching what she was doing.

“As tiny as this seed is, so shall you be.” Again she closed her eyes. This time the energy was there. She felt it pulsing all around her. It ran from her toes to her fingertips. She sang louder, and the small plant grew a darker green and burrowed deeper toward the blue spawn.

“Look!” the kender exclaimed. “The creature’s getting smaller.”

A surprised look crossed the spawn’s lizardlike visage. It renewed its struggles, thrashing about in vain as it slowly disappeared beneath the mound of mud. Dhamon dropped his sword and started digging. Shaon joined him.

Within moments, the mud had been cleared away, and a spawn no taller than a man’s hand was uncovered. The thing furiously flapped its wings, and shot upward. But the sea barbarian was quicker, and her fingers closed about its tiny legs.

Lightning exploded from its mouth and bounced across her arm, but it only stung her with the force of a spider bite. Shaon laughed and shook the thing. It feebly clawed at her hand, scratching it no worse than a small cat.

“Are you going to carry it all the way to Palin’s?” Blister asked.

“Only if you give me your net bag,” Shaon returned.

The kender’s eyes opened wide. “Of course! My unbreakable bag. My magic seaweed bag.” She hooked the chapak to her belt and tugged free the bag. When she upended it, several of Raph’s spoons, a couple of spools of thread, a handful of marbles, a pair of lime-green gloves, and a ball of yarn fell out. She proudly handed the bag to the sea barbarian, then fell to the task of collecting her dropped belongings into another bag.

Shaon thrust the struggling spawn inside, then held the drawstring bag up to her face. The green weave was tight, but she could see its eyes gleaming dully through a small gap. The bag wiggled, and she saw it glow with light as the creature attempted to use its lightning breath to break free.

“What do you know, Blister,” Shaon grinned. “I think this really is magical. It can’t get out.”

Dhamon helped the Kagonesti to her feet. “Are you all right?”

Feril nodded. “A little sore, but I think I fared better than you and Shaon. You two need some serious tending.”

The kender, finished with her task, sat back and sighed. Her fingers ached terribly. But she glanced up at the sea barbarian and Dhamon and giggled. “You’re a mess!” she chuckled. “I wouldn’t dress a scarecrow like either one of you!”

Dhamon’s shirt hung on him in strips, as did Shaon’s. Their pants were ripped, and mud and scorch marks dotted their exposed skin.

Dhamon had to smile. He had no more coins. No horse. No food. But there was the spare shirt beneath the saddle of Feril’s dead horse. He retrieved it and passed it to Shaon.

“Maybe Palin’s got some extra clothes in the Lonely Refuge,” Blister added.

“It was going to be a long ride by horse,” Shaon grumbled. “Now your Lonely Refuge is going to be a very long walk.” Under her breath she added, “Rig had better wait for me.”

“I can find us food and water along the way,” Feril volunteered. She fussed over Dhamon and Shaon for the next several minutes, binding their wounds with the tattered remnants of Dhamon’s shirt.

“To the Lonely Refuge, then,” Dhamon said. He sheathed his sword, motioned to Feril, and started north. Fury walked at his side. “Hopefully we’ll come across another village and can send someone for the boy in Dolor. We’ll travel by night. I don’t want to be sleeping when these things are around.”

“Who said they only come out at night?” Blister asked, as she hurried to catch up. “It can storm during the daytime, too.”

“Wonderful,” the sea barbarian said. Shaon held the net bag close to her face and watched a tiny grin spread across the creature’s sapphire visage. She shivered and fell in step with the others.