Adventurers Wanted 1) Slathbog's Gold (38 page)

Alex smiled weakly. Since they’d left the dark forest, he had been practicing spells
from his magic book. He was surprised how easy some of them seemed to be. One of the spells could conjure up a bright blue flame, and he was already good at working the magic.

“We should rest,” said Bregnest. “Tomorrow we will gather wood and fill our water bags. Then we will begin our journey into the wastelands.”

The next morning, Alex spent some time with Shahree. She didn’t seem to like the idea of being left behind.

“It’s only for a short time,” said Alex soothingly. “And I’ll be happier knowing you’re safe. I know what you did for me in the dark forest, and I will return for you as soon as I can.”

Shahree whinnied loudly and nuzzled Alex’s shoulder. His words seemed to pacify her, though he could still see a sad look in her eyes.

They put their saddles inside their magic bags, letting the horses wander freely on the open grass. Arconn whispered something into each of the horses’ ears and they seemed to understand what he said. Then, with one look back, Alex and his friends walked into the wasteland of Varlo.

Their road was not a difficult one to follow because no plants had grown over it. In fact, Alex couldn’t see anything growing at all in the wasteland around them. The land for miles around them appeared completely dead. Alex felt a great sadness inside as he walked through the barren and empty land.

“Dragons usually destroy everything for miles around their lairs,” said Andy as he walked beside Alex. “It makes it difficult for anyone to sneak up on them.”

“Like we’re trying to do,” replied Alex with a half-smile.

“It has been many years since anyone has dared bother Slathbog’s rest,” said Skeld from in front of them. “Perhaps he has grown less watchful over time.”

“And perhaps he has grown more,” replied Tayo, looking unhappy as he walked beside Skeld.

“If he is watching, perhaps he will meet us on open ground,” said Skeld, with a note of hope in his voice. “That would be to our advantage.”

“Why?” Alex asked, shifting his bag on his shoulder.

“Slathbog will know the tunnels and ruins of Varlo well,” replied Skeld. “On open ground, our chances would improve.”

“Time will not have made him so foolish,” said Tayo in a grim tone. “He will wait for us in a place of his choosing.”

“Wherever he is, we will find him soon enough,” said Andy, sounding worried and nervous.

They quit talking and continued to walk. The dead land seemed to press in on them, and their movements seemed loud in the overpowering silence. Alex caught himself looking at the road ahead several times, as if expecting to see the dragon waiting for them. He wasn’t the only one. They all seemed to be nervous and watchful, even though there was nothing to see for miles around.

For three days they walked, but there was no sign of the dragon. At mealtimes, Alex would conjure up a bright blue fire for Thrang to cook on, putting it out as soon as the cooking was done. There was little talk as they traveled, and no laughter at all. On the fourth day into the wasteland, it began to rain softly, turning the road into a muddy stream.

“We should turn south,” said Bregnest as they slipped and sloshed along the road. “We are near the city. If there is any truth to old Eric’s tale, we should look for it.”

Alex knew that even if Slathbog knew about the secret passage and was watching the tunnel, a surprise attack was better than waiting for the dragon to find them.

The next morning, they left the road, moving south and east through the empty fields. The fields were far muddier than the road had been and their progess slowed. It was hard work for them to keep moving forward, and they had to stop and rest several times during the day.

As they made their way across the muddy fields, Alex thought that Varlo would have been a pretty land if not for the dragon. Low walls neatly divided the fields, and here and there the burnt stumps of what had once been orchards could still be seen. Alex spent the day thinking about how the land might have looked—before the dragon came.

That night, the rain turned to snow but the fields did not freeze. The company continued to move south, slowed by both mud and snow. It was cold and wet, and even the hot meals Thrang prepared on Alex’s magical fire did little to warm them. Alex wondered how many more days they would have to trudge through the sloppy fields of an endless wasteland.

As darkness closed in on the seventh day of their march, Alex heard running water. They soon came to a stream, moving swiftly over broken stones. In the stillness of the wasteland, the sound was incredibly loud.

“This must be the stream the old man told us about,” said Thrang as they approached the water. “If ever a stream ran from a dragon’s lair, this is it.”

Alex agreed. The water in the stream was a sickly pale green, and it looked oily. There was also the nasty smell of rotten fruit
in the air, and it turned Alex’s stomach. Bregnest ordered them to make camp away from the stream so they wouldn’t have to sleep in the stench. Alex walked away from the stream, thinking that there had been some truth to Eric Von Tealo’s tale after all. Alex knew that soon they would have to find some way to enter the dragon’s lair.

“We will follow this stream to the mountain,” Bregnest said the next morning. “Though I don’t think any of us like the idea of swimming in its filth to get inside the mountain.”

“Perhaps the stream has worn away the stone and we will not need to swim,” said Skeld, a note of hope in his voice.

With no other path or plan to follow, they walked beside the smelly stream toward the mountains. They marched all day and most of the next before finally reaching the mountainside. As they approached the mountain, they could clearly see a dark, partly caved-in tunnel next to the spot where the stream emerged. Their spirits lifted when they saw that Skeld’s hopes had come true.

“We should rest,” said Bregnest as they gathered around the dark opening. “Tomorrow, we will seek our fate in the dragon’s den.”

The weary adventurers nodded and began setting up camp. Alex conjured up fire for Thrang to cook on, but nobody except Skeld seemed to be hungry.

“If I meet my end tomorrow, I’ll do it on a full stomach,” Skeld said with a smile.

Alex wandered around the camp feeling uneasy and nervous. He had felt all day that they were being watched. His companions must have felt the same way because they would often glance up at the mountain or out into the wasteland, looking for something that wasn’t there.

As the sun sank into the west, its last rays broke free of the clouds. Alex watched the sunbeams with a smile because they lightened his worries and reminded him of the sunny meadows of the dark forest. Alex let his gaze follow the sunbeam’s path to the ground. Growing where the light hit the ground was the first plant he’d seen since entering the dragon’s wasteland. He looked at the plant in wonder and surprise for several minutes. Partly covered with snow, the small plant seemed odd and out of place growing in the hard soil. Brushing the snow away to get a better look, Alex caught his breath. The plant’s broad, dark green leaves were covered at the base with blood-red flecks—Dragon’s Bane. Alex was sure of it; he recognized it from Iownan’s book.

As carefully as he could, Alex dug the rare plant out of the rocky soil. He filled a large empty sack with soil and gently placed the plant into it. The Dragon’s Bane looked like it was barely alive, and Alex feared it might die. He hoped it would not because the next morning they were going inside the dragon’s lair. He might need the plant and its healing powers soon.

That night, as the rest of the company slept, Alex kept watch with Arconn. If the dragon caught them unawares and asleep, there would be no chance at all to fight or escape.

As the darkness became complete, Alex felt a small twinge in his mind. It was more than his nervous feelings of being watched. There was something about his feelings that made them more real to him, something he couldn’t find a name for. He pondered on his feelings for several minutes, and then he spoke.

“He is close,” Alex said softly to Arconn. “I can feel him.”

“What?”

“The dragon,” Alex replied. “I can feel him.”

“You can sense what he is thinking?” Arconn asked in a slightly surprised tone.

“Confusion. Dark thoughts. Hate, and a terrible longing for . . . for something.”

“Turn your thoughts away,” Arconn warned. “If he sleeps, you may wake him. If he is awake, he may sense you and try to find you through your thoughts. His thoughts may drive you to madness.”

“Madness,” Alex repeated softly. “That would be a good way of describing what I’m feeling.” For a moment, he felt like he was inside the dragon’s mind.

“Close your mind to him,” Arconn warned again. “Think of happier things.”

With some effort, Alex forced himself to think of other things. He focused his mind on the camp and Arconn sitting beside him in the darkness.

“Are dragons mad?” Alex asked after a few minutes had passed.

“I do not know what you mean by mad,” answered Arconn. “If you mean, are they mad like a man who does foolish things for no reason, I would say no. But there is something in them, something that drives them to be the way they are.”

“You told me once that some dragons weren’t evil.”

“That is true. Some of them are free of evil and greed. I have met only one that seemed to be free, and that was long ago.”

“You were friendly with a dragon?” Alex questioned.

“We spoke of many things, but I do not think I could call him a friend,” said Arconn softly as if remembering something from the distant past.

“What happened to him?”

“I do not know,” Arconn sighed. “Perhaps he found a place to live away from the known lands. Or perhaps he has simply hidden himself from all who seek him.”

“Could Slathbog hide himself from us?” Alex asked.

“I do not think so, but then, I do not know all the ways of dragons.”

They sat in silence for a long time, looking into the darkness around them.

“Go to sleep,” Arconn said eventually. “You will need your strength.”

Alex walked to his tent, wondering if he would ever meet a dragon that was not evil, before he remembered that he had never met any dragons at all. That would change in the morning however, and he had to be prepared.

He fell asleep with thoughts of an uncertain future filling his mind.

Alex dreamt of dragons. Some of the dragons were good and kind, but most were evil. He dreamt of Slathbog as well, a great red monster that spoke to him the same way the wraiths had spoken to him. He knew Slathbog was lying to him, just like the wraiths had lied to him. In his dream, he was not tempted by Slathbog’s words, and Alex woke feeling a strange sort of comfort.

As the sky began to grow light, it was clear that nobody had slept very much during the night. Everyone looked tired in the pale sunlight and worried about what they were going to do. The clouds had blown away during the night, and the dark cave beside the stream looked unpleasant to them all.

Alex and his friends gathered around the small opening, preparing for what they had to do. His eyes fixed on the darkness in front of him and a shiver ran down his back. The darkness didn’t bother him, but the smell coming from the cave did. It was a nasty mix of rotten eggs and meat that had been left out too long, and it turned his stomach. Looking away, he tried to think of something happy, but nothing came to him.

Everything that had happened to him in the past few months seemed like a dream, a dream that was fast becoming a nightmare. They had reached the goal of their great quest. Alex had thought this day would never come, and for a moment he wondered why he was here.