‘So what happened next?’ said Bel.
‘Shebazaruka demanded that we take her to the treasure. We offered to get it and bring it to her, but now she would not let us out of her sight. This was, of course, exactly what we wanted, to lure her away from her child so the bug-eyes could do their work.
‘She sniffed the air and declared that no one else was around – that was her only concession to assuring her offspring’s safety. She would not stoop to letting us ride on her back, and so we all walked together, a strange sight indeed. As we departed the area, I sent a spell sneaking into the trees to unclasp the lid of the crate and set the bug-eyes free. There were many of them, and we had little doubt that one would find the dragon child.
‘Meanwhile the three of us travelled in a wide circle around the woods. We eventually found the place where the Arabodedas waited with the statue and presented it to Shebazaruka. She was most pleased, crowing and cackling over her new prize. She did not thank us, but gripped the statue in her claws and took flight, knocking us to the ground with her wind. I almost did not pity her for the trick we had pulled so easily.
‘When we returned to Skygrip we found Battu cheerful, for a bug-eye was indeed working perfectly in the child, and the mother did not suspect a thing. Not long after, however, the eye failed. Battu was angry, but I think by then he had grown to realise that there wasn’t much to be gained from spying on mountainside and wood. It did not take long for him to forget it altogether.
‘And so, as I plodded along against the swirling currents of the Rass, my rib cage now home to a companion eel or two, I decided it was time to bestow another gift upon Shebazaruka. Even if Battu later found me, and forced me to tell him where I had hidden the Stone, it would not be an easy thing for him, or anyone, to retrieve it. A dragon’s lair is about as safe a place as any in which to store precious things. I would even be protecting it from my future self, in case I received new orders.
‘So, as the Rass thundered up into the Heights, I said goodbye to my eels and finally crawled out somewhere not so far from here. To eastern Dennali I went, once again looking for Shebazaruka’s lair. I was not sure whether to present the Stone to her as a gift, as before, for it was not as shiny as a gold statue and perhaps would not pique her interest. My other thought was to try to sneak it into her cave without her knowing. As it turns out, neither of those plans was ever necessary.
‘I was about a day from the lair, moving along a ridge, when a dragon descended upon me. I had not meant to be seen, but dragons are excellent at spotting trespassers in their territory. I was not concerned – either I would give Shebazaruka the Stone, or she would destroy me, and I would be gladdened either way.’
‘Unless,’ said Gellan, ‘you simply came back again.’
‘Yes,’ said Fazel begrudgingly. ‘But I would hope that a dragon’s fire, which has no equal in the world, would be enough to burn the unlife from me.
‘As it turns out, the dragon who found me was not Shebazaruka, but her son. I wasn’t expecting to see him, for dragons are solitary creatures and he should have been long gone from the place where he was reared. As he landed before me he almost fell, and it was with great regret that I saw what had befallen him. The bug-eye was still in his head, though now I understood why Battu could no longer see through it. The parasite was malformed, grown enormous, disproportionate to the size of its host.
‘The dragon spoke to me strangely, demanding to know what I was doing there, then asked me a string of other questions which made little sense. I came to understand that he was mad – most likely the eye was to blame. If it existed inside his skull as largely as it bulged from his eye socket, then surely it was pressing against his brain. Perhaps that was why he’d never left the lair.’
Fazel fell silent as he remembered how he had empathised with the dragon’s plight. Long had he carried a bug-eye for Battu, before it had been sizzled away in Whisperwood, and well did he know what it was like to have one’s existence inexorably altered by a Shadowdreamer. Perhaps, he hoped, the eye in the dragon’s head would be dead now that Battu had been toppled – but given its initial failure, there was probably no connection between it and Battu any more in any case.
‘Seeing little choice,’ he continued, ‘I offered him the Stone. At first he hardly glanced at it, although with his eyes rolling around independent of each other, I suppose it was hard to know where he glanced. He thought I insulted him by offering him a dull rock, but I held it up so that he could see the way shadows and light move across its surface, see the dark shine of the black gold. I told him the fate of the world may rest upon this very object – for a dragon, the fact that others covet something is reason enough to desire it for themselves. As soon as I told him the Stone was wanted by both Throne and Shadowdreamer, he was eager to take it into his possession. He asked me to tell him stories about it so that he could pass them on to his mother, impress her with the enormity of the gift. That was the last time I saw it, held in his claws as he took off into the sky.’
The undead mage sighed – a habit he had never managed to shake, despite the lack of breath inside him. ‘I had managed, it seemed, to place myself in an even greater state of limbo. I still could not go to Fenvarrow or the Halls, although the Stone was now secure in case there ever was a way for me to complete my task. In the meantime I took up waiting, hiding in the woods and foothills. Without a way to accomplish my orders, I was freer than I had been in a long time. But now …you have found me.’ He could not keep the resentment from his voice. ‘And though it is within your power to free me, I suspect I must journey to the lair once again.’
With his tale ended, he watched them pondering his words. Perhaps, he dared to hope, his deliverance did lie with these folk. At least he could now follow the orders of one on the side of right; at least he would no longer be made to commit travesties in the name of Fenvarrow. And maybe one day, if the light prevailed, he would be free to die.
‘It seems we must seek dragons,’ said Bel. Glancing about the faces in the firelight, Fazel did not think their looks of trepidation misplaced.
The Speed of Shadow
Losara lay in bed with Lalenda snuggled against him, snoozing softly. He let his consciousness dissolve into the shadows that ran through the castle walls, and soon enough he was drifting through the Shadowdream. In previous nights it had been Fenvarrow he had dreamed of, little scenes of daily life – Grey Goblins working in fields, a boat of Arabodedas fishermen working rough seas as they trawled their nets, Graka children chasing one another around snowy peaks. These visions had made for relaxing nights, and he was grateful to have had no long important nightmares like the one in which Bel had caused the Cloud to rain away.
Tonight, however, he was not so fortunate.
He floated high above orange peaks towering out of woods far below. Beneath him was an immense valley through which a river ran, twinkling in the sun. Someone was floating beside him, and with surprise he took in the flapping collection of bones and rags. Together they moved towards the edge of a plateau where his other stood waiting. With Bel were his lover, his friend Hiza, and a mage Losara did not recognise.
The dream blurred and now he was amongst them, listening as the undead thing spoke. It was Fazel, Losara realised, to whom no one had given a thought in years …How could it be that he was here, still alive – and speaking to his other ? It felt odd to learn that Bel somehow commanded Fazel through Losara’s own connection to Skygrip …in fact it was strangely comforting to know they shared this something , when they seemed to share so little.