by Johnny Cycles, December 26th, 2025
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Chapter 5
Regardless of Salestia’s fear otherwise, Ton was sure these creatures wanted more than a meal from them. It didn’t make sense otherwise. Why capture the dwarf to use as leverage to get him to surrender when they could have killed her and attacked him? Sure, he’d killed two of them, but fighting against seven or eight at once? He supposed they could have used the dwarf to neutralize him, but then why keep her alive to begin with? If they’d wanted to trick him into surrendering, they didn’t need her uneaten.
A scream wrenched the air. Ton crunched up and peered around the lion spider dragging him towards the faint light emanating from the large opening. Another scream. Something was dying a slow, painful death.
The tunnel ended suddenly, giving way to a dense darkness that spoke of a massive cavern. Bones and other less edible body parts littered the floor. The smell was overpowering. Ton heard Salestia wretch. This place was a graveyard of the devoured.
The lion spider stopped next to a wide pole driven into the ground and surrounded by decaying flesh and bone. Ton felt himself being lifted and stood upright. A moment later and he was fastened to the post by a swath of web and facing the source of the horrible screams they’d heard.
Their horses hadn’t escaped.
Ton grimly assessed the scene before him.
There was another lion spider, only one so gigantic, so massive, that its bulk was lost in the deep shadows of the cavern. A faint light pulsed from unseen sources behind it, casting strange shadows that seemed to breathe. One horse lay at the creature’s feet, conflated in on itself as if its insides had been sucked out, while the other was in its death throes in the mouth of the monster. The creature had its massive fangs buried deep in the horse’s neck, its multitudinous eyes closed in apparent ecstasy.
With a squelch, the horse collapsed in on itself and the lion spider let out a prolonged burp of satisfaction, then tossed the corpse at Ton’s feet.
“A rare treat,” the massive creature rumbled. The sound of its voice came from its center rather than its throat and the whole cavern seemed to tremble in its deep treble.
Ton heard Salestia gasp, but he kept his gaze on the blinking eyes of the lion spider.
“Horse flesh is almost as uncommon as duwyn.” The words grated and crushed against each other, an avalanche of sound. “Though we’ve had more of both lately.”
Ton said nothing. The thing must be referring to the Empire’s army that had passed through here on its way south.
“You killed two of my children,” the creature said and, with a suddenness Ton didn’t think possible, its massive, toothy maw was gaping before him. For something so large, Ton couldn’t believe the quickness with which it had moved. One moment it was dozens of feet away, the next it was breathing its foul breath on Ton’s face, fangs dripping horse blood on the ground in front of him.
“Your children,” Ton tried to keep his thoughts on this word choice out of his voice, “were hunting me.”
The lion spider bared its teeth in what could only be described as a smile. “You also killed a Dragon,” it continued. “Which is a rare thing, rarer even than horse flesh.”
Ton returned the smile. He had no idea how this creature knew of the battle at the inn, but he guessed he could use it to their advantage. “What do you want?”
The lion spider didn’t respond right away and Ton felt its many eyes sizing him up. Ton thought about slashing through his restraints and driving a knife into the flesh under the thing’s chin, but decided against it. He was curious.
“The Dragons are a blight on this world,” the lion spider finally continued, and this time the cavern did shake from the anger in its voice. “THE blight, in fact. Kill them and I will forgive you the deaths of my children.”
It was Ton’s turn to size the monstrous beast up. It shouldn’t have any problem with a few Dragons, ice magic and retracting face or not. The creature was enormous, so enormous, Ton still hadn’t gotten a true sense of its size. Its neck alone was twice the length of a horse. Its rounded torso disappeared behind it, fur long and lank, clumped here and there with blood and guts. “Why don’t you do it yourself?” he eventually asked.
The cavern filled with the fetid breath of the lion spider as it sighed. “My children can range only so far from the Rock Lands and survive. Your kind doesn’t much like us and without the tunnels, we would be hunted down and killed.”
Ton eyed the massive creature. That was only part of the truth. “And you’re too large to leave this place,” he said, alighting on the real truth the beast was trying to hide behind a truth.
“You are not from here,” the creature replied, ignoring Ton’s comment. “You have…abilities…not seen in centuries. You and those like you can do what this world’s own failed to when they had a chance. Kill the Dragons.”
“Or get eaten?”
The lion spider dipped its head in a surprisingly duwyn-like nod.
“If you can’t leave this cave and your children can’t leave the tunnels, how do you know I’ll do what you ask?”
The creature barred its teeth again in a smile. “Your barra stays with us.”
Ton heard Salestia’s sharp intake of breath, but before he could reply, fire erupted from the various tunnels leading into the vast cavern, illuminating the corpse-strewn ground and pockmarked walls. The giant spider scuttled back so fast, it slammed into the ceiling above, sending small boulders and debris crashing to the ground. It screamed as it pushed its mammoth bulk against the far wall, though the flames hadn’t reached that far.
Ton instinctively turned away from the heat, but the cords binding him held all but his face motionless. He brought up an energy shield just in time to prevent his skin from burning.
Salestia screamed.
At least she was still alive, Ton thought as he used a slash of energy to cut through the webs holding him to the post.
The flames receded as quickly as they’d appeared, and Ton guessed that whoever was attacking them had done so from the tunnel’s entrance. That gave them time.
He rushed to Salestia and cut her free in one smooth motion. She collapsed into his arms momentarily, then pushed herself up and him away.
The queen, or king, Ton wasn’t sure, of the lion spiders screamed again, then bounded forward towards them.
Ton tackled Salestia out of its path, rolling to take the impact of their fall.
The giant spider blew past them in a rush and slammed into the wall behind them. It hit so hard, the tunnel ceiling shook. The creature backed up and slammed forward again. This time the entire cavern trembled.
“We need to go!” Salestia shouted, extricating herself from Ton’s arms and dashing towards the opposite end from where they’d entered.
Ton leapt after her.
More crashes and more debris fell from the ceiling above them. With each strike of the massive spider’s body, the bones and remains of meals bounced along the cavern floor. Lion spiders suddenly appeared, rushing out of side tunnels and towards their leader.
Ton peered through the gloom and pointed to the biggest tunnel. “There!”
A rush of heat hit him in the back and he turned.
The enormous lion spider had backed away from the opposite wall and through its legs, Ton could see several tunnels caved in. But not all.
Through those that remained, large rock creatures were shambling slowly into the cavern.
Lion spiders swarmed towards them, ensnaring several in their thick webs, while scrambling atop others, sharp teeth snapping at faces and necks.
Then the rock creatures opened their eyes. Flames burst forth, incinerating the lion spiders closest to the hulking things.
Screams of dying spiders played background music to the ear-splitting sound coming from their leader.
As Ton stumbled towards the tunnel leading away from the battle and carnage, the giant lion spider dipped its long neck and roared. From its mouth came a massive line of webs. It swiveled its head back and forth, encasing everything in its line of fire with the thick, white substance.
Ton tripped out of the cavern and into the tunnel, darkness closing in on him suddenly and nearly completely. Screams and the light of fires cut through the air around him. He could just make out the rugged floor of the tunnel leading away and bending to their left. Salestia was nowhere to be seen.
“Sal!” he called out.
He moved forward at a crouch, knives out and ready. He reached the turn and peered around it. Salestia was leaning against the wall, hands on her knees, shoulders shaking in silent coughs. Or sobs. Ton wasn’t sure.
“Sal?” he called again, stepping nearer but resisting the urge to place a comforting hand on her back. “Are you okay?”
She straightened and met his gaze in the near darkness. Then she turned and started down the tunnel.
❖
The first time she stumbled in the darkness, Salestia cursed the rock that caused her to nearly fall. The second time, she cursed Ton for getting her into all this. That’s when a light appeared behind her. She bit back a nasty remark and trudged on. It was just like that duwyn to wait until she’d nearly broken her neck to think to help.
She moved forward faster now, Ton and his damn light somewhere behind, causing her shadow to leap out ahead, traversing the rocky ground a few seconds before she did. She was still shaking and a cold sweat had soaked through her clothes, which themselves were filthy and sticky. They’d need to be washed. Or better yet, burned.
She focused instead on the immediate needs of their present situation. Her mind wasn’t yet ready to process everything that had just happened. Another near-death experience, this time at the hands of a gigantic lion spider of all things, followed closely by another near-death experience at the hands of fire-blinking golems. It was too much.
And so she paid extra careful attention to the ground below her and the ceiling above her. Who knew where the next death-dealing monster would spring from? Oh, and she refused to look at Ton. Or speak to him. Let him get a taste of the silent, forever angry traveling companion. They wouldn’t be traveling together much longer. As soon as they reached the surface, she was going her own way. And if he tried to come with her, she’d kneecap him, magic or no.
Except they didn’t reach the surface. Not that day. Or the next. Or the next.
The tunnel wound right and left, dipped gradually up and down, but it didn’t end.
The first time they stopped to sleep, she ignored all of Ton’s remarks. “Are you okay?” As if he cared. “We should talk about what happened.” Fuck you very much, I don’t think so. “Do you want something to eat?” Eat your self, asshole.
Well, she’d taken the dried meat he’d offered, but she’d done so silently and without making eye contact. Take that.
But it was cold in the tunnels. You didn’t feel it so much during the day.
Or, as she soon realized with a sinking feeling, during the time you weren’t asleep. Who knew if it was day or night?
They stopped when they were tired, ate when they were hungry, and walked when they were awake. When they stopped moving, the cold crept up on them like some spilled and viscous liquid, inexorably spreading across the floor. The first night, she shivered her way through it. The second, she decided to build a fire, but that was a stupid idea. There was no real ventilation, not to mention wood. By the third night, she and Ton were cuddling like newlyweds, shivering bodies warming each other.
The next morning she finally spoke. “Was it good for you?” she asked dryly as she squirmed out of his embrace.
Ton laughed.
The sound shocked her more than the magic he so effortlessly and casually wielded.
“So you’re talking to me now?” he asked, the laugh still echoing in his words.
Despite herself, she smiled. She liked his laugh. “You’re still an asshole.”
“I know,” he replied simply, sitting up and straightening his tunic.
“We’re in trouble,” she said, following his lead for lack of anything else to do with her hands. There was no fire to start, no water to boil, no breakfast to cook.
“This tunnel will end eventually.”
“Oh, I’m sure it does,” she replied. “That’s not the question. The question is if we’ll live long enough to see it.”
“Next side tunnel we find, let’s scout down it for any kind of water,” Ton suggested, standing.
“The Rock Lands are as dry as the rest of the Border Lands. It probably rains once a year, if that.”
“Not from above,” he answered. “From below. Those lion spiders have to live off of some kind of water. There must be an aquifer down here.”
“I still think we should keep going this way.” They’d past numerous side tunnels over the last few days, but Salestia stubbornly refused to stop at any of them and ignored all of Ton’s suggestions and arguments to do otherwise.
“That’s fine. So far, this is the biggest tunnel we’ve seen, so it’s probably one of the main thoroughfares down here. It’ll eventually lead somewhere.”
Salestia barked a laugh. “Like another giant spider lair?”
Ton smiled. “Or outside. Let’s hope for outside.”
They moved on then, still in silence, but of a different kind. This wasn’t the silence of angry companions, but rather the silence of the tomb. Salestia felt the weight of the rock above her like a tangible thing. She may be a dwarf, but she was a hill dwarf, not a mountain dwarf. And it’d been a long time since she’d been anywhere underground.
That realization brought with it a host of memories and feelings associated with home and she mercilessly pushed them back down into the dark cage where she kept them locked. Now wasn’t the time to add childhood trauma to the mix of desperation and despair slowly annexing her heart and mind.
They were never going to get out of these tunnels. They would die and probably be eaten by whatever creatures were down here. A fittingly miserable and pathetic end to a miserable and pathetic life.
Another day passed. Then another. Each side tunnel they found ended dead or wound off back the way they’d come. And while they didn’t know if these would eventually lead to the surface, there was no sign of water and no breeze of fresh air to compel them to try their luck. They could die just as well in their current tunnel; no need to waste energy and hope seeking out a different grave spot.
They’d been without food for days, water for one. Salestia was not the hunter and tracker Ton was, but she knew enough about life to know they had two, maybe three, more days before dehydration left them seeking the comfort of the hard tunnel floor and the sleep of the apathetic.
They hadn’t exchanged a word for as many days as they’d been hungry. The energy needed to speak was too precious to spend when there was nothing but wishful thinking and crushing despair to communicate. Each night they silently folded into one another, shivering themselves to sleep.
It was the only time Salestia experienced anything remotely pleasant during their long sojourn underground. Ton exuded a surprising amount of heat and his arms were strong and soft at the same time. Or she was just so exhausted from hunger and walking that a rock would have seemed comfortable, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t have the energy or desire to think it through. All she knew was that she wanted to savor what little comfort and pleasure remained before she lost consciousness.
❖
Ton wasn’t sure how long they’d been in the tunnels when Salestia didn’t wake up. It was at least a week, maybe two, but he had trouble keeping track of the days when it was endless night.
He leaned his ear over Salestia’s mouth and nose and was relieved to feel faint breath warm his face. He’d been expecting her to slip into unconsciousness for a couple of days now. After all, she didn’t have any magic to sustain her after their food and water ran out.
But she was stronger than she looked, something he’d long ago figured out while drinking steadily in the bar day after day. The way she suffered Bortis spoke either to a stupidity or a strength not possessed by many, and he knew she was no idiot.
Any doubt he may have had regarding her willpower and resolve disappeared when she came out of the Manor House with that poker in her hand. He didn’t believe in showing an enemy mercy, the more so when that enemy had tortured and tormented you for years. He hoped Bortis had died a slow and painful death.
But now they were dying a similar death and there wasn’t much Ton could do about it. His reserves of energy were not endless, nor could he magically hydrate himself. The best he could do was draw on his magic to keep his body moving and his brain functioning. Eventually, though, the lack of food and water would catch up with him and he’d collapse too.
Ton sat up and stretched his aching arms and back. Salestia wasn’t into reciprocating when it came to cuddling and he woke each morning with a dead arm and numb side. He didn’t complain, or roll away from her in the middle of the night. Keeping her warm was the least he could do after how he’d treated her.
It was odd, but after her tirade and angry silence, Ton felt the lethargy and depression that had so long numbed him to everything and everyone around him begin to lift. He knew he’d been wallowing in grief and self-pity, but until Sal, he hadn’t been aware just how dangerous such weakness was. Forget about the mission he hadn’t completed because of it; he had been slowly morphing into something not human, a black hole that sucked everything, good or bad, into it to feed its own inner darkness.
‘You don’t have a monopoly on pain,’ she’d said to him.
He’d thought a lot about that statement in the recent days of monotonous forward movement. It had helped snap him out of his depression, had shed light on the demons of loss and death that had been slowly consuming him. And it had awakened him to the real, living person traveling with him.
She wasn’t just a thing that needed to be saved, taken care of, and tolerated. She had her own darkness and suffering, joys and desires. She was just like him, only better at living, more adept at navigating the pitfalls and peaks of life. He had a lot to learn from her. More than that, he admired her, cared for her, loved her even, if only in a platonic way. But with the unlocking of these positive emotions came the fear and worry that were love’s evil twins.
Which was why he had to get her out of these tunnels, and quick.
He stood and gathered their few things, then lifted Salestia onto his shoulder with a grunt. She may be short, but she weighed a surprising amount.
Must be those dwarf bones, he thought as he started down the agonizingly familiar tunnel.
He’d noticed it had been steadily and nearly imperceptibly sloping down, and he was trying to take that as a good sign, rather than the more logical portent of doom his gut told him it was. They needed to reach the surface, which was above them last time he checked, so going deeper probably wouldn’t end well.
However, and here he used all the delusion he could muster, the perpetual nature of their descent could mean they were nearing some creature-made structure or destination. The tunnel had the feel of leading somewhere other than to the center of this cursed, near barren planet. The main question now was if they’d live long enough to get there.
The newness Salestia’s heavy body added to the journey quickly wore away, leaving the familiar monotony and pendulum swing of hope and despair each slight bend inspired in its place. The day, or night, or walking time, as he’d come to think of it, wore on until sleeping time arrived. He gently laid Salestia down and assumed the position of cuddler once more.
Hopefully they’d live through another day.
❖
They lived through two more before finally reaching the end of their tunnel. Ton was checking to see if Salestia was still breathing during one of his increasingly frequent rests when he felt the breath of wind on his face along with the shallow warmth that told him she hadn’t yet died. He gently shook her, but to no avail. Instead, he lifted her to his other shoulder and moved as quickly as possible towards the source of that blessed breeze.
A few hours later, though, and he was cursing. The tunnel had gradually grown lighter before turning one last time to reveal a blinding white hole some ways ahead. Ton hadn’t been able to control the hope and excitement rushing through him until he stood in the opening and saw where their tunnel had led them.
They’d made it to the outside, but they hadn’t reached the surface. Instead, the tunnel’s end was a hole in the side of a cliff face overlooking a massive delta of sand and rock.
The rivers and streams that had cut through the Rock Lands had pooled up here at one time, Ton realized as he scanned the landscape before him for any sign of water or life. But now it was one vast desert.
Still, if there was any water under the Rock Lands, and Ton was confident there had to be, then they should find some sign of it trickling down the rocks around them. All they had to do was climb the hundred or so feet to the ground below and search the base of the cliff. Well, he had to, and he also had to figure out a way to get Salestia down.
❖
Salestia woke up coughing and sputtering, water choking her and dribbling down her chin. She opened her eyes enough to see Ton – was he tunicless or was that just a remnant of a now dormant fantasy – propping her head up with one hand and pouring water from a skin into her mouth with the other. It took a moment to register, but once she grasped what he was doing, she eagerly gulped at the trickle he was angling at her.
“You’re okay,” he said. “Drink slowly.”
She tried to grab his hand, to make him pour more water faster, but her arm didn’t obey. How long had she been unconscious? Where were they? It didn’t seem dark enough to be the tunnels, but it wasn’t bright enough to be outside.
“Sleep now,” Ton whispered as he let her head fall gently on something soft behind her and straightened up.
He really wasn’t wearing a shirt, she saw. That would explain the pillow under her head. She closed her eyes, then opened them at the sound of him turning to go. She nearly gasped when she saw his back. It was covered with some kind of image, a light green and black creature of some sort. “Don’t leave me,” she called.
He turned back, revealing a muscled chest free of strange images but riddled with scars. “I’m here,” he said, kneeling beside her.
She smiled and closed her eyes.
When she woke the next time, it wasn’t from Ton’s gentle ministrations, but rather from a hunger that felt like it was eating her insides. She groaned and tried to sit up. A moment later and Ton’s arm was supporting her, his voice soothing her back to sleep, to rest, recover.
She shook the arm off. “I’m starving,” she croaked, then pushed herself up. “And I’m not an invalid. At least, not any more.” She closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Despite her bold claim, she thought she might faint.
“Here,” Ton held something dark and cooked out to her. “It’s not much.”
Salestia snatched the piece of meat and devoured it in two bites, barely noticing the charred chewiness of it. She took the second piece Ton offered and ate more slowly this time. It really wasn’t much.
“Scorpion,” Ton explained without prompting.
Salestia grunted, finished eating, and only then looked around. It was still dark, but they weren’t in the tunnel anymore. They were outside, camped at the base of a huge cliff wall overlooking a desert. She sighed
They’d managed to survive just to die above ground. It was something, she supposed. She started to ask what happened, then thought better of it and lay back down. Maybe she’d magically wake up somewhere nice the same as she’d magically woken up outside.
The third time she woke it was to the sound of a crackling fire and the smell of cooking meat and she really did think she’d been spirited back to the Manor House. Except the only fires that crackled and meat that cooked there were thanks to her, which meant… She sighed and sat up.
Still in the desert.
“Snake,” Ton said by way of greeting. “Got lucky today.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Couple of days.”
She ignored the surprise she felt at this and instead asked, “What happened?”
Ton shrugged. He was wearing his shirt again, she noticed with a twinge of regret. “You passed out from dehydration. I carried you here.”
Salestia looked hard at Ton, then flicked her eyes up the cliff wall at the dark hole of the tunnel’s entrance. “Want to tell me how you got me down?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he replied with a smile, though Salestia was sure she saw sadness fill his eyes.
“Back to not talking, then?” she asked with more spite than she’d intended.
“No,” Ton replied after a moment. “But it’s not important, is it? Chalk it up to magic and let’s leave it alone.”
“Who are you, Ton?” she asked. “Really? That spider monster said you weren’t from here. And that there were others like you. What did it mean?”
“Just that,” Ton replied evasively.
Salestia growled.
“There’s not much more to it,” Ton continued. “My people and I came here to establish new trade routes. We haven’t had much success, though. This place is…” He paused, as if unsure what word to use to describe the Empire and its surrounding lands.
“Just barely habitable?”
“Yes, though there are more places than the Empire to explore.”
Salestia gave Ton another hard look, willing him to be more open. “I think I prefer silence to this cryptic nonsense. At least when you weren’t talking, you weren’t dissembling.”
Ton sighed and met her gaze. “Sal, look, I’ll tell you what I can, but just because you want to know more than I’m allowed to say doesn’t mean it’ll happen.”
“See, more cryptic bullshit! Allowed?” she asked sarcastically. “I don’t see anyone but you and me dying in this gods forsaken desert. Who’s to stop you? Who’s to punish you? Because if there is someone more powerful than you out here with us, it’d sure be nice to get their help!”
A small smile flitted across Ton’s lips. “This is what I can tell you. My people are scouting this land in search of potential trade partners and allies. I’m one of those scouting. At least, I’m supposed to be.” He trailed off, derailed by thoughts or memories, guilt or remorse, Salestia couldn’t say.
“But instead you decided to drink yourself stupid every day in my bar?” she prompted.
The smile Salestia had hoped this comment would engender didn’t appear. If anything, Ton’s face turned sadder and harder.
“I did my job,” he began, then paused. “At least some of it. I’d just finished exploring the main cities of the Empire when I got to Grafdak. You were my last stop before continuing through the Border Lands. I’d spent some time in the Rock Lands, but only on the fringes near the Empire. I didn’t think it a likely spot for commerce.”
“You don’t say,” Salestia chimed in. Her anger at Ton’s half-truths and full lies was simmering just under the surface of her curiosity, ready to explode forth should she sense more deceit.
“And so I wasn’t overly eager to continue my quest,” he went on, ignoring the bite in Salestia’s comment. “And…” he trailed off.
“What?”
“It’s nothing,” he said, waving a hand.
Salestia growled. “Not allowed to say?”
“No,” Ton smiled again, a sad thing that didn’t linger. “What was it you said to me? Self pity and self loathing? That was about right. I was being weak, allowing myself to feel something I’d been ignoring for too long.”
Salestia felt her face go hot at the words she’d thrown so angrily at him before the lion spiders had captured them. “What happened to you, Ton?” she asked gently.
“Nothing that hasn’t happened to you, tenfold I’d imagine,” he replied, picking up a stick and poking it in the fire.
She reached a hand out and placed it on his forearm. “I’m sorry for my harsh words.”
Ton met her eyes, then stared hard back in the growing flames. “Don’t be. You spoke truth to me, truth I needed to hear.”
“Loss is loss,” she said. “That I’ve experienced more than you doesn’t lessen the significance of your own.” She squeezed his arm, then sat back. “Tell me.”
Ton shrugged. “We were in love. She was tortured and murdered in front of me.” He looked at Salestia and she saw tears and pain in his eyes. “I was betrayed.” Now there was hardness and anger where the hurt had been. “My city, my leaders, they weren’t who they said they were.” He shrugged again. “And now I’m here,” he finished simply, as if that sequence of events all led naturally one from the other.
“Scouting out new trade routes for the people who betrayed you?” Salestia asked. She felt tears in her eyes but ignored them.
“Those deserving of punishment got it,” he said simply, but Salestia heard the coldness in his voice and she shuddered. She knew from experience what Ton was capable of.
“How do you do magic?” she asked, changing topics. What more was there to say? People were taken from you. Life went on or it didn’t. The choice was yours.
Ton stretched his legs, uncoiling his body from the tense spring it had been while he’d been telling her of his loss. Salestia took a deep breath, suddenly feeling as if she’d been holding it this whole time.
“My people taught me, that’s all I can tell you.”
“Does it have to do with that thing on your back?” she asked, trying to keep the fishing out of her voice. She was guessing blind now.
The sharp look Ton gave her made her think she’d been right.
“I saw it when I first woke up.”
“Ah,” Ton said and the sharpness faded.
“Well?”
“It’s just a tattoo,” he answered.
“A what?”
“A picture on my skin. You don’t have them here?”
Salestia shrugged. “Maybe.” She’d seen people with coloring on parts of their bodies, but she’d never seen such an intricate and detailed, not to mention huge, picture on anyone.
“It’s your turn now,” Ton spoke into the easy silence that had fallen over them.
“What?”
“To tell me of your loss,” he explained.
Salestia looked into the fire, unconsciously imitating Ton, as if the burning wood held a portal into the past or could sooth the painful words as she spoke them. Where to begin? With the father she didn’t know? Or the mother who was murdered when she was still just a girl? Or with the sister she had to raise when she’d still needed raising herself? Or of the abuse, the countless and sometimes endless abuse she’d endured at the hands of dwarfs and duwyns alike? She shook her head. Talinia.
“My sister was taken,” Salestia began, forcing the pain and anger back under control. If she told Ton everything that had happened to her, they’d be up all night and she’d be a wreck of tears and fury. “By a man in the Empire’s army. It passed through a year or so ago on its way south. I have to get her back. I will get her back.”
Ton nodded, but said nothing.
“She’s younger than me,” Salestia continued. “And maybe, maybe…” Her shoulders started shaking against her will and tears dripped to the dry desert floor.
Then Ton was there, arms encircling her, pressing her face to his chest, whispering soothing words, meaningless beyond the comfort they conveyed, into her hair.
Salestia breathed in the smell of him and let herself be held. It’d been so long since anyone had touched her out of something other than lust or anger and she felt the sobs building in her throat melt into sighs of pleasure.
Maybe it was the near-death experiences they’d lived through together, or the intimacy secrets shared created, or her latent fantasies taking control, but she turned her face up to Ton’s then and kissed him. His mouth was rough and hard at first, but after a moment it opened, turning soft and welcoming. She pressed herself against him and pushed him down onto his back. His arms snaked around her and no more words of pain or loss were spoken.
Chapter 6
Sava and the others continued their journey to the capital of the Empire the next day with bleary-eyes and hangovers among soldiers and crew alike. The tense dynamic that had existed between the two groups before Jorge’s inn had eroded with each shot of whiskey to be replaced by the shallow camaraderie shared blacking out engenders. They weren’t best friends out on an exciting journey together, but the sense of a jailed escort was gone. And with each ensuing evening spent in increasingly bigger and nicer inns, their camaraderie deepened.
Ragnar was the life of each gathering once he’d drank enough to forget Ral’s existence. And while this took a staggering amount of alcohol, the larger towns they were stopping in had plenty to go around. Most nights ended with battle songs shouted more than sung and Ragnar challenging any and all to test their mettle against him in a wrestling match. The bar’s usual patrons brave enough to have stayed this long, for Ral didn’t empty each inn as he had the first one, usually left at this point, though some made the poor decision to take Ragnar up on his offer. They weren’t mortally wounded, just incapacitated in unique and various ways.
York and the freckled duwyn, Jefferson he was called, continued their romance much the same way they’d started it. Both pointedly ignored the other throughout the day and into the evening. After a few drinks, one would start the flirtatious glances and it was then just a matter of time before they went missing. Aura asked York what the point of all the games was, but he just smiled mysteriously and said something about secrecy and spice.
She and Stanley, meanwhile, didn’t need any tricks to light the fires of their affair. He was surprisingly passionate and she was more than up to the task. Their evenings usually started late and ended early. He was kind and smart and had a wicked sense of humor that matched her own. She’d never been happier. She knew it wouldn’t last.
Sava, for her part, rarely partook in the nightly festivities, short of staring daggers at Ragnar over a half-full glass of wine when he did something particularly stupid. She never told him to drink less or to go easy on the fools who thought they could beat him in a fight. They were all under a great deal of stress, Ragnar in particular, as he had to suffer Ral’s attentions on her. She, too, had to suffer them, of course, but she was captain while he was just the ship’s surgeon and quartermaster. Let him drink away his impotent anger until the moment he could act on it.
She’d keep her wits about her and continue the game with Ral. And even though the Dragon’s Claw had stopped devouring her with his eyes and making suggestive comments, the game, and the flirting, continued. It became something more subtle and more dangerous, the second act of their polite battle full of smiles and laughter.
As they traveled, Ral continued to sprinkle the questions of an interrogation into his otherwise banal chitchat. She never knew when he’d shift from the empty monologue that was his narration of their journey to the pointed questions digging for the truth of their presence in the Empire.
“Tell me again why you and your crew risked your lives to cross the sea?” Ral asked one gloomy afternoon.
They’d been on the road a few hours and the misty morning hadn’t transformed into the bright, sunny day they’d hoped for. Instead, the mist turned to rain and the predawn darkness bled into a stultifying gray of overcast skies and soaked earth.
It’d been more than a week since they’d reached Last Hope and while the land itself still looked bleak and near-death, there were more hamlets, villages, and large towns that created a sense of bustle and life. Nevermind that the closer they drew to the capital, the more dried-out and sickly the duwyns they encountered appeared.
Sava pulled her hood tighter, more from the habit of trying to stay dry than from the possibility. She was soaked through already. “As I’ve explained,” she began with a cheerfulness she did not feel, “we are explorers, sent by the rulers of our land to see what wonders exist beyond our borders.”
“To what end, though?” Ral asked. He seemed unbothered by the rain. His hood was down and water ran in rivulets down his bald head. It made him look even more like the snake Sava was beginning to associate him with.
“Are you and your people not driven by curiosity?” Sava asked, seeking to steer the conversation away from the concrete and into the philosophical. “Is that not what differentiates us from the animals? What fuels innovation and progress?”
“Some would say it is desire that distinguishes us from lesser creatures,” Ral replied.
“Do not animals also desire?” Sava asked. “They grow hungry and want to eat. They grow thirsty and want to drink.”
“They grow aroused and want to,” he paused long enough for Sava to fill in the blank, “mate,” he finished with a smirk. “No, I do not speak of baser desires, but of higher ones. The desire to love. The desire to possess. The desire to conquer, to hurt, to feel! The desire to desire! These are the desires that differentiate us from animals. We are motivated by as many wants as there are things to want.”
“And is not curiosity the desire to know the unknown? To see the unseen?”
“To taste that which is forbidden?” Ral added, cutting her a glance that said more than his words. “But surely your rulers,” he continued before she could react to his comment, “are more than just curious. Explorers are curious. Rulers are…” He once again let Sava fill in the word he left unspoken. “Let’s just say they do not have the luxury of satisfying idle curiosities.”
“You speak the truth,” Sava acknowledged. “My people value knowledge. The more we know of the world we live in, the better for us.”
“What do you hope to gain with this knowledge?”
“That which knowledge gives.”
Ral laughed. “More philosophical feints?”
“Not at all,” Sava smiled. “I speak now in the most concrete of terms. Knowledge is a generous god. Her gifts are innumerable. We could spend the rest of our journey listing the fruits she offers.”
Ral nodded slightly in concession.
“Before setting out on our journey, we had no idea what we would encounter. Yes, we hoped to learn of the world we inhabit, but what can you hope to gain from that which you do not know?”
“Hope and desire are not so tethered to knowledge and reality.”
“Fantasy and wishful thinking is what we call that,” Sava countered. “My people do not indulge in such childish imaginings.”
Ral smiled. “A stoic and practical people, from all that you’ve told me,” he agreed.
They splashed down the road in silence for a few minutes. Sava replayed the conversation in her mind, poking at it for weak links and obvious deceits. It was only just past lunch, and she was already exhausted. And the rain was not helping her mood any. She took a breath and brought up the image of a flame. This focal point would quiet her mind and provide her with clarity of thought, all while pushing the discomfort of wet clothes and damp air to that of a mosquito bite on an elephant.
“But you’ve now some knowledge of this place and my people,” Ral continued suddenly. “Tell me, Captain Sava, what do you and your rulers hope to gain from us?”
Sava blinked and pulled her hood tighter. Ral had never been so direct in his questions and she wondered for the thousandth time if she had any idea what game they were actually playing. She was, however, prepared for the question, had been prepared for it since before setting foot on the Empire’s soil. “That which anyone seeks from one’s neighbors. Peaceful relations and a mutually beneficial exchange of goods and resources.”
Ral smiled again, his teeth flashing in the gloom. “Trade?” he asked, though he didn’t wait for her to confirm it. “I must say, Captain Sava, you do not look like peaceful merchants to me.”
Sava returned the smile. “We are explorers, Dragon’s Claw, not traders.”
“Hmm, of course,” Ral agreed, though he didn’t sound convinced. “Quite the weather we’re having,” he added cheerfully.
And with that, Ral shifted back to the accommodating and talkative host, his interrogation over. Sava knew better than to think it was done for good.
❖
“Welcome to Dragon’s Nest,” Ral announced as they crested a hill, “the capital of the Empire!”
Sava pulled her horse up next to Ral’s and took in the view of the city in the distance. They’d been in the saddle more than two weeks now and she was sore in places she didn’t know she could be. York stopped next to her. Aurora and Stanley were just behind. Ragnar was somewhere in the back of the escort with his new drinking buddies.
“It’s beautiful,” Sava said and she didn’t have to fake the awe in her voice.
Dragon’s Nest was indeed impressive. The city was built on top of several hills that abutted a massive mountain range capped with snowy peaks. Stone buildings crowded the hilltops, which were connected one to the other by ornate bridges. A wall ran a semicircle from the mountains behind Dragon’s Nest around the hills it was built on.
In front of this was a second, sprawling city, wooden houses ranging from hovel to shack lined its outskirts. The capital’s slums, from the looks of it, where the poor and unfortunate eked out a living in the shadow of the wealthy. Beyond, the various buildings grew in size and respectability in proportion to their proximity to the wall.
In the far distance leading up the steep mountains stood another structure, though Sava mistook it at first for an anomaly in the rock. It was an oddly shaped building, for starters, both narrow and tall, with ridges running down the length of it. Towards the top was a piece running horizontal to the rest of it, making the entire thing look like a T. Most unusual was its color – a deep black, ebony almost, that seemed to suck the light into it. “What is that place?” she asked Ral.
Ral smiled. “The Church of the Dragon!” he beamed. “It was built above the city as a beacon of hope and reminder of the protection the Church provides its followers.”
“Of course,” Sava nodded. Nothing about that thing spoke of hope to her, though.
Ral spurred his horse forward and led the way down the hill towards the outer city.
“Looks like these people could use all the hope they can get,” York muttered to Sava as they reached the capital’s outskirts.
Sava frowned. The duwyns here looked even sicker than those they’d passed along the way. Many half-sat, half-lay outside what passed for their homes, too tired or apathetic to move. Their wrinkled and weather-beaten faces barely even looked up at the passing group of soldiers.
Meanwhile, figures clad from head to toe in black robes shuffled along the streets on unknown errands. What struck Sava as the most strange, though, was the silence. Those who sat outside did so silently, not engaging in any sort of conversation with their neighbors, not to mention work of some kind. The females also moved without speaking, dodging one another as if stepping around objects rather than living beings. The entire place oozed depression and slow death.
“The Church does all it can for the unfortunate,” Ral said. He was still smiling. “Alas, not all accept it.”
Sava’s frown deepened.
They continued on. The city’s outskirts eventually morphed from ramshackle to dilapidated, from dilapidated to poor, from poor to modest, and finally from modest to almost wealthy as they drew nearer and nearer to the city’s walls. The alleys became streets, while the barely standing shacks became two- and three-story homes with restaurants and shops occupying their first level. The buildings closest to the wall were of the same stone the inner city was built from, a light gray, almost white granite.
“The merchant district,” Ral announced with a half-sweep of his arm.
“Uh huh,” Sava replied as she surveyed the shops they passed. “Where are all the customers?”
“What do you mean?”
Sava didn’t answer. Maybe this was the norm here in the Empire, but she couldn’t shake the feeling they were walking through a graveyard. Yes, there were still the dark-clad females shuffling along the road, and yes, there were merchants in each of the shops she’d seen so far, but there hung in the air that same resigned silence they’d encountered in the city’s slums. There was no life to this place. People appeared to be going through the motions, more automaton than living being. The few male duwyns they encountered outside either ducked into a shop upon seeing the group of soldiers, or abruptly changed course to avoid them. Sava couldn’t really blame them, but she at least expected a little more gawking first.
Ral brought them to a halt before a massive gate flanked by empty booths.
“Where are the guards?”
Ral smiled and waved a hand at the gate. “The Empire is a peaceful place, as I told you. We have no need for guards on every corner.” The gate split down the middle and swung slowly inwards with a screaming sound.
“Why the closed gate then?” York muttered to Sava.
Sava shared a look with him, but said nothing.
Ral led them through the screeching gates even before they’d finished their protests and up a gently curving road lined with trees interspersed with benches. It was once a lovely approach to the city above, Sava could tell, but now it looked dreary and somber, as if in mourning. The trees were half dead and the streets were as empty as a tomb. Yes, the rainy weather had continued now for a week or more, but the place had the look of an unfrequented museum. Or mausoleum, Sava thought grimly.
Another gate, this one smaller, met them at the top of the road and Ral waved his hand at some unseen gatekeeper and it swung open with a screech the echo of its larger twin below. The inner city of the Empire’s capital was just as silent as the outer, while being even more deserted. As Ral led them ever deeper towards the center, they encountered exactly no one. No guards. No passersby. No dogs, even. And yet, Sava sensed eyes everywhere. Each building they passed appeared empty, but felt full of hidden duwyns intently watching the group as they made their way towards the Lord Dragon.
“Where is everyone?” Sava finally voiced the obvious.
Ral seemed to consider the question. “At worship, of course,” he finally replied.
“Worship?”
“The Church of the Dragon,” he replied as if that explained the absence of life in this capital city.
“May we look in on a service?” Sava asked.
Ral smiled. “Of course. The Church is open to all!”
Ral turned down a side street and rode on in silence a few blocks. The buildings they passed were all made of stone and at least three stories. Unlike the outer city, though, these did not house restaurants or shops. Everything appeared residential. Except for the absence of residents.
“The city is divided into hills,” Ral said as they turned down another side street. “Each hill has multiple smaller churches for daily worship, while the main church we saw on approach is used for holidays and important ceremonies.” Ral brought the group to a halt before a smaller version of the massive, black structure in the mountains. “This is one such church,” he announced.
Sava took in the dark, ridged walls and unusually tall and narrow shape. It contrasted sharply with the white granite of the other buildings, as if it didn’t belong. She wondered if this was the point, if it was some message that the Church of the Dragon was otherworldly. “Daily worship, you say?” she prompted as she dismounted and followed Ral up the few steps to the door of the church.
“The Church’s followers are very devout,” Ral replied. “It is believed that the more who worship, and the more frequent, the sooner the great Dragon will be reborn. Our prayers will bring her back to life!”
Sava nodded as Ral held the door open for her and York. Aura and Stanley stayed behind with Ragnar, who had finally rejoined them at the front of the group.
They passed through a small entrance hall and into the main room of the church. The sight was stunning. The inside was as deep black as the outside. The few flickering candles placed throughout the cathedral did little to illuminate the space. The ceiling was lost in the darkness above. Directly in front of them were two rows of benches running towards the opposite end of the room, where an extremely tall duwyn stood on a raised dais surrounded by lit candles. The benches were packed full of duwyns divided by gender. The males all sat on the left, while the females, clad in black, sat to the right. These were nearly invisible as they blended effortlessly into the dark walls and floor of the cathedral.
Sava peered through the near darkness in an effort to get a better look at the Dragon, but all she could tell was that he was tall and very thin. He wore dark robes and an odd, bowl-shaped hat on his head that looked to cover the upper portion of his face, including his eyes.
If anyone noticed the sudden appearance of armed strangers, they didn’t show it. No one moved, not even the priest in the front. And, to make things even stranger, no one spoke. The entire cathedral was silent. She turned to find Ral’s eyes on her and she signaled that she was ready to leave.
Once back outside, she said, “It’s a beautiful church.” The words felt hollow. The place had given her the creeps. “But why are they silent? Were they praying?”
Ral nodded his head in a sign of gratitude for her compliment. “They are praying,” he answered. “As the Dragon is silent in death, so too are we silent in prayer.”
Sava said nothing. She’d never been in a church before, but she knew enough about various religions to know they could have some strange beliefs. Still, the feeling that something was off with these people and this land only intensified after seeing them at worship.
They continued on towards the center of the capital and to the Lord Dragon himself.