"When it finished speaking, the dragon rose onto all four feet, wincing in pain as it did so. Whatever the spell that kept its wounds from bleeding, it obviously didn't relieve the pain they caused. The creature drew its head back as if it were a serpent preparing to strike. Half of its teeth were either gone or reduced to broken nubs, but it still had more than enough left in its huge maw to slay with. As its one-eyed gaze was focused intently on Erdis, there was no doubt about whom it intended to kill first.
"The need for silence was long past, and I fought past my dragonfear to shout, 'Cut the dragonhead from the chain!'
"Erdis didn't respond, but as the dragon lunged, Erdis sidestepped, gripped his sword with both hands, and swung his blade at the golden object dangling from the chain around the dragon's neck. The strike was well aimed and severed the link holding the dragonhead to the chain. The object fell to the cavern floor. An instant later the dragon stiffened and let out a deafening roar of agony. As if some sort of internal dam had burst within the creature, blood gushed from its numerous wounds. Those of us closest to the dragon fled, as much from a sudden intense surge of dragonfear as to avoid the beast's death throes, but we needn't have bothered, for after releasing a single bellow of pain, the dragon slumped to the cavern floor and lay motionless. The dragonfear that had taken hold of us, Erdis included, subsided, and we stopped running and turned back to gaze upon the dying creature. I say dying, for though the beast did not move, its one good eye remained half open, and tiny curls of green vapor wafted from its nostrils.
"The dragon's right front claw twitched, its talons lightly scratching against the stone upon which it lay. At first I thought it was trying to get up, but then I saw the golden dragonhead lay less than ten feet from the claw, and I knew the beast wished to reclaim its magic talisman in order to save its life. Overwhelmed with sudden pity for the dragon, I stepped forward, intending to help it, but Erdis put a hand on my shoulder to stop me. I looked at him, and though he gazed at me with understanding, still he didn't release me, and I didn't try to break free. Instead, I turned back to look at the dragon. The streams of blood that had gushed from its wounds only seconds before had slowed to mere trickles, and I knew the dragon didn't have much time left.
"The beast spoke then. Its voice no longer echoed like thunder through the cavern, but came out instead as a soft rumble so quiet I had to strain to hear it.
"'For more than twenty-six hundred years I have lain in this cavern, with only my pain for company,' the dragon said. 'The Amahau kept me alive all that time-much as I wish it hadn't-but now its work is finished. The Gatherer is yours now. Use it wisely.'
"I understood that the Amahau and the Gatherer were both names for the golden dragonhead, and though I knew this was hardly the time to quiz the dragon about the object, my artificer's curiosity was burning to learn more about the magical artifact, but before I could ask any questions, Erdis asked one of his own. "'What is your name?'
"'I am… Paganus.'
The dragon's eye closed then, and a last rattling breath escaped its scaly lips. After nearly three millennia-if the beast had been telling the truth-death had finally claimed it."
Tresslar fell silent after that and gazed out upon the sea. Asenka looked at the dragonhead-the Amahau-with newfound awe.
"What happened after that?" she asked.
Tresslar didn't respond right away, and she thought he hadn't heard her or that perhaps he had and merely intended to ignore her question, but then the artificer spoke once more.
"We left. I took the dragonhead, since as ship's artificer I was best equipped to handle it, and we made our way back to the Seastar. The return journey wasn't without its difficulties… after all, it was Trebaz Sinara, but all of us made it to the ship more or less intact, and we set sail. I began experimenting with the Amahau to learn its capabilities, and eventually I discovered how to use it to absorb and store magic. I affixed it to the end of this wand, and that's the end of the story."
Asenka very much doubted that last statement, but she sensed Tresslar didn't want to speak more about Erdis Cai or the crew of the Seastar, so she decided to ask something else. "Did you ever learn anything about the Amahau's origins or what the wounded dragon was doing hiding in the cavern for so long?"
Tresslar shook his head. "To be honest, I was never much of a scholar, but after Erdis and the rest of the crew… retired, I ended up working on Dreadhold. Because so many of the criminals incarcerated on Dreadhold possessed mystical abilities to one degree or another, the prison had a rather extensive research library for the artificers' use. From time to time I would visit the library to see what I could find about the Amahau or about a green dragon named Paganus, but I found only the most oblique references and very few of those. To this day, more than forty years later, I don't know where the Amahau came from or the full extent of its power."
Asenka gazed upon the golden dragonhead, its ruby eyes and crystalline teeth, and realized she was in the presence of a great mystery. After a time, she said, "Maybe it's better that you don't know more than you do."
"I've often thought the same," Tresslar replied.
They both fell silent after that and stood at the railing, side by side, watching the waves as the Zephyr sped across the water toward Perhata.
Inside the obsidian sarcophagus, Makala lay in darkness. The coffin's power insulated her from the effects of sea travel, so much so that she had no awareness that the ship was even moving. She wasn't asleep, at least not in the way that mortals understood the term. Just as vampires existed in a shadowy nether region between the worlds of the dead and the living, when resting, they hovered in a state between awareness and unconsciousness. The closest mortals could come to this experience was the delirium that accompanied a dangerously high fever. Makala's mind drifted in this ethereal twilight, images and sensations coming unbidden and leaving only distorted, fragmented memories of their visit upon departing.
Her reunion with Diran dominated her thoughts. The images that paraded through her mind were mostly of him, but at the extreme edge of her semi-awareness a voice whispered to her, as it had every day since she had been transformed into a vampire by Onkar, Erdis Cai's first mate. When she awakened, she would have no memory of this voice-she never did-but she would be changed a bit more by the dark words it spoke.
Makala… blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh… Soon you will be ready. Soon you will be worthy. Soon we shall be one…
And then the voice-feminine, cruel, and so very, very cold-laughed.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Diran stood at the Zephyr's bow as the elemental sloop approached Perhata. His lips were dry, the skin hard and cracked, and his cheeks were red-raw from windburn. He could've easily healed himself, but he didn't bother. He had long ago gotten used to ignoring pain.
"You should do something about those lips before they start bleeding. You don't want to be more of a temptation to our slumbering beauty than you already are."
Diran replied to Ghaji without turning to look at him. "I'm not in the mood for jokes."
"Since when has that ever stopped me?" The half-orc stepped up next to Diran and leaned forward onto the railing. "Sorry if my attempt at humor fell flat. It's the orcish way to try and cheer up a companion by provoking him."
Diran's cracked lips did their best to form a smile. "What's the companion supposed to do in response?"
"There are several acceptable responses, but the most common is to kill the idiot who's dumb enough to provoke an upset orc."