20. Smokescreen. #2
I stare. We never studied eggs at university. How could we, when invading a lair go against the dragon law and often result in a terrible death?
Alchemists and healers are discovering more uses for dragon matter every day, thanks to fire scroungers providing new samples. It’s a growing market. It makes sense that the eggs…
“Fuck,” I say, realization dawning on me. “You’re sacrificing entire villages to dragon fury just to keep one of you barely alive?”
Clarence, at least, looks a little ashamed.
“Enough,” says Lord Darrington. “We didn’t ask for your opinion and moral high ground, dragoner. We need you to lead us to the next egg.”
Moral high ground? My mind turns blank with rage. I tear at my clothes, pulling my tunic down to reveal the scars on my back. For a moment, both men stare at the dragon tattoo, but then Clarence grimaces, and I know he’s seen the burns.
“This isn’t about morals,” I roar. “This is about life and death. Dragonfire burned my life to the ground, but I was lucky to survive. We can’t say the same of all the poor souls turned into ashes in your wake.
” I point an accusing finger at them. “You are both monsters, and you deserve to decay from the inside out. I just wish it were the two of you dying and not just one.”
Clarence sits back as if I slapped in the face.
Lord Darrington stands up too fast for me to register his action before his cane comes crashing down on my head. I fall to the ground, and he beats me with it some more. He might be a pampered aristocrat, but he’s a tall man and blows are powerful.
The pain is sharp and blinding, but so is my anger. I try to get to my feet to fight back, but some members of his crew enter the cabin to restrain me.
I scream and try to bite the hands dragging me out of the cabin.
Blood is running down my nose and onto my naked chest —my tunic hangs loose around my arms. Eventually, they have had enough, and they put me in a chokehold, cutting the airflow.
I try to resist, but I’m pulled under by the lack of oxygen and lose consciousness.
When I come back to reality, blood crusts my nose, and I have one eye swollen shut.
My throat is sore, and it hurts to swallow, but the burns I survived far outweigh this pain, so I easily ignore it.
The crew has locked me in chains in a dark room—a closet, really—but sunlight is pouring through a small window above me.
“I am aware of our selfishness,” a soft voice says in the dark.
Clarence is sitting on the floor, his back to the doorframe of my small room.
“It’s funny what staring in the face of death does to someone.
When I was younger, I wanted to be a great adventurer.
I wanted to fight pirates and rescue princesses.
Now I just wish I could walk for a few miles without fainting or make love to my husband. ”
I stare at him with my good eye. “Now you’re the bad guy princesses need rescuing from.”
He sighs. “Yes.” He pauses. “He’ll do it, you know.
Hunter is a man of his word. If you refuse to help us, he’ll send people after your friends and exterminate every one of them.
I used to love the fact that he could burn the world to the ground for me.
Now I’m just… so tired. But we’ve come too far to stop. I know it.”
“You mean you’ve killed enough to stop feeling remorse? How convenient.”
Clarence drops his cheek onto his knee, exhausted. “There’s nothing you can say I haven’t told myself already. We’ve been doing this for a year now. And some more…”
I chuckle bitterly. “Some more?”
“We’d learned of my diagnosis fifteen years ago, when we were only teenagers, and we tried different solutions.
Nothing worked. So Hunter explored new sciences.
He met with a shady alchemist, and the man provided us with powdered dragon egg yolk.
I wondered how he got it, but Hunter didn’t care.
I had my doubts, but the concoction gave me life.
It lasted a few months, but… it gave us hope. ”
The dragon attack that cost me my family happened fourteen years ago. The alchemist might have caused it—or some other poacher. I wish I could blame Lord Darrington and Clarence for everything and finally have a target for my decade-old rage.
“Where is this alchemist? I would love to have a word with him.”
“He’s long dead. Hanged by the royal guard for his dubious craft.
I can’t say I blame them.” He sighs. “My condition worsened after a year or two, and we went hunting for our first fresh egg. Airships weren’t a thing then, so it took us weeks to reach the wilds and find the lair of a young dragon.
We lost a few men, but we had the egg. Hunter made me eat the entire thing raw.
It was revolting. But it… it saved me again.
I had a normal life for years after that.
But eventually, my condition worsened again, and here we are.
I have to eat eggs more often to stay alive. ”
“Don’t expect pity from me,” I say. “I have none to spare for you.”
“I don’t want your pity. But maybe… understanding? We’re not doing this for gain or power. We’re doing it for love.”
I glare at him. “Fuck your love. And fuck you.”
Clarence watches me for a heartbeat, then sighs. “Very well. We’re heading to the last dragon’s lair. I made Hunter promise me. I’m tired. We noticed that the bigger the dragon, the more nourishing the egg is. So we’re heading to the biggest dragon on the continent.”
I frown. The biggest female is Alduin, who has taken residency in the Forsaken Mines for over a century, and they already stole her egg.
“Where are we heading?” I ask.
“The Fangs.”
The mountain range south of Dragonest.
My frown deepens. “There are no dragons in that territory.”
Not since Myrval—the legendary dragon who was at the origin of the Reign of Fire, the war against Dragonest and the Mad King that lasted ten years—died.
Clarence smiles, as if he knows something I don’t. “Why do you think no dragons ever set their lair in those mountains for over a century?”
My eyes widen, the implications of what he’s saying dawning on me.