She shrugged and wiped at a stain on her tunic, then looked up with a wild look in her eyes again.
“But when Riki and her family are safe, I will track Dhamon—as high into the mountains as he chances to go.” She turned from the draconian and locked eyes with Dhamon. “And then, Dhamon Grimwulf, we will finish this, you and I. You will pay for Rig’s death—for the deaths of Shaon and Jasper and whomever else you betrayed. You will pay for everything.”
Chapter Seventeen
Visions and Shadows
“Riki will be all right, Dhamon. They might not have to fight the hobgoblins to get her out. They might be able to slip in, take her, your child, and Varek too.”
“Aye, maybe.”
It was the first either of them had spoken since they’d left Ragh, Fiona, and the goblins, hours ago.
They were making their way toward the mountain ridge. The wind was strong, cutting across the uneven plain, rustling the tall, dried grass and whipping up small rocks. The sky was cloudless and blue, making the brown landscape seem even more desolate and drab. The few trees that grew on the craggy ledges were thin and barren, save for a lone pine that stretched tall and defiant.
Dhamon lengthened his stride, keeping his eyes on the pine. He’d chosen a route that avoided the cluster of small settlements and farms between Haltigoth and the mountains, and one that roughly paralleled a merchant road to the south.
Maldred maintained his appearance as a blue-skinned ogre-mage. Earlier, Maldred had attempted to don his human guise when two men on horseback rode by, but Dhamon became angry and shouted at the ogre, so Maldred kept his true appearance. The sight of the ogre kept the men on horseback at a distance.
Dhamon didn’t want to be reminded of Maldred as a human, the sun-bronzed friend who once shared many an adventure with him, but as they neared the shadows of the mountains, he realized, too, that he didn’t want Maldred to look human because he, himself, didn’t look human anymore. And unlike Maldred, he couldn’t cast a spell to make himself look like a man again.
Did Sabar speak the truth? he thought. Was there still time to reach the shadow dragon and force the damnable creature to cure him?
He wondered if Maldred would betray him again, warn the shadow dragon somehow of their approach. Would he cut some new deal to save Blöten and the surrounding land? He wouldn’t put it past the ogre-mage. Dhamon would have left Maldred behind with Ragh and Fiona, if he didn’t think the ogre might be needed to find the shadow dragon and if he didn’t need Maldred’s crystal-ball scrying.
“We had some good times,” Maldred said.
“Aye,” Dhamon admitted. “A few.”
It was even cooler in the shadow of the mountains, and the coolness was a welcome antidote to the fever that consumed Dhamon. Dhamon found himself staring up at the mountains and wondering if perhaps the dragon had chosen its lair here wisely after all. The peaks were stark and imposing, like the dragon.
“Dhamon, we can wait here a moment, ask Sabar to look in on Riki, to see if the Knight and draconian have accomplished anything.”
Dhamon shook his head. He didn’t want to know that, not at this juncture anyway. They’d traveled too far to turn back now. He couldn’t afford to be distracted either by Ragh’s success or failure. Dhamon needed to concentrate on confronting the shadow dragon. He’d put his trust in Ragh, and that was that.
He suspected the ogre-mage had volunteered to use the crystal because it would afford him a moment of rest. Dhamon had been driving them pretty hard, and neither man had slept in nearly two days.
“Look in on the shadow dragon instead,” Dhamon suggested. “Try to pinpoint the exact location of his cave. If you can’t get us a good idea of where he is, we’ll spend days wandering around here.” And I don’t have the time, Dhamon thought. Softly, he added, “Or maybe you prefer us to wander around.
Maybe you don’t want me to find the cave until it is too late. Maybe you want the shadow dragon to win.” The fever hadn’t lessened. If anything the fire in his stomach and across his back was more intense.
Just walking was a chore.
While Maldred was summoning the image of Sabar into the crystal ball, Dhamon closed his eyes. He focused all his thoughts on the heat and pain, attempting to use his willpower to shut them down, but it didn’t work.
Dhamon stared at the mountains. The dragon was somewhere up there, hidden in some massive cave.
He gazed toward the south, where the peaks were the highest, then suddenly felt a spasm of fiery pain and almost buckled.
“Dhamon?”
“I’m fine,” he said tersely. A few deep breaths and the worst of it passed, but his chest ached now.
He tore his robe at the neck, then ripped it open down to his waist. Leaning on the glaive for support, he rubbed his chest and his ribs with his free hand. His left side was now covered with scales that burned to the touch. As his fingers moved over his abdomen, he felt another fiery jolt. There was a similar sensation low on his back, and he knew that more skin was disappearing.
How much of my skin remains? he wondered. There was a stream nearby. He wanted to look at his reflection, but perhaps it was better if he didn’t know.
“Dhamon.”
“I said I’m fine.” He turned to face Maldred, seeing the ogre-mage seated on the hard ground, the crystal between his knees. Maldred stared at him with wide eyes. Dhamon reached up to feel his face.
There was a slight popping sound, and he felt his jaw extend outward and the scales under his chin thicken. “Is there…”
“Time yet? A chance for your cure?” Maldred dropped his gaze to the purple-clad woman in the crystal ball. “Sabar says there is time—very little.”
“Does she really say that?” Another streak of fire raced across his face. “Or are you just telling me what I want to hear? Are you playing some game?”
Maldred didn’t look up. “I’m not lying to you, Dhamon. Not now. Not ever again.” He ran one of his hands across the crystal globe’s surface. “I know I made a mistake in allying myself with the shadow dragon, a very serious mistake. I was so frantic to save my people and my homeland that I took the first good opportunity that came along. You can damn me for my stupidity and desperation, but don’t damn me for putting the ogre nation before one man. Even a friend.”
“It was your father’s idea. Wasn’t it? For you to side with the naga and the shadow dragon?”
“Yes.”
“And like the dutiful son you are, you bought into it.”
“I thought at the time the idea had merit. I should have looked for another way. I well know that now.
I should have asked your help. Instead I deceived my best friend and lost your friendship, and I’ve done my father and his kingdom no good. There might be no saving them now.”
“There might be no saving any of us if these cursed dragons go unchecked,” Dhamon said. “The shadow dragon….”
Maldred turned his attention to the crystal, seeming to caress it, and in response the woman inside conjured up an image of a mountain range. One high peak melted away to show a great dark slash.
“O Sagacious One,” she breathed. “This is the one you look for.” Sabar twirled, her purple skirts sparkling and filling up the whole of the ball. When she stopped moving, the vision shifted again, this time showing the inside of a cave at the top of the peak.
Dhamon peered closer. The image flowed inside the mountain. The passage was wide and steep, angling downward and twisting like a serpent as Sabar took them deeper into the cave. Dhamon imagined it smelled dry and stale—it certainly looked that way. Dust and clay were everywhere. There were tiny, curly-tailed lizards on ledges, and several varieties of bats clung to the walls and gently beat their wings.