CHAPTER FIFTEEN #2
“Okay, everyone!” Em shouted at her scattered companions. “Operation ‘steal the dragon relic’ is officially underway. Gair, escort Faylorn to Tolk-Town about halfway, then find yourself a good perch to shoot the dragon from!”
Gair flashed a pearly grin, saluting. “Yes, ma’am!”
“Polo, you’ll slip ahead into the secret entrances. Wait until you hear Brolzross stirring before you dive into his piles of gold. Don’t announce if you’ve found the relic until after the dragon has left,” Em ordered.
“On it!” the imp scampered out of sight further up the mountain, his tail flicking in excitement behind him. “I’m great at finding secret entrances! Both literal and metaphorical.”
“How do you know if Brolzross the Nocturnal is hiding in piles of gold?” Gair cocked his head.
“Because he’s as cliché as everything else we’ve encountered.” Em shrugged, twisting her hair into a bun to keep it out of the way. “C’mon, Sasha and Roden, if we’re going to make enough of a ruckus to wake this damn dragon, we don’t need to be sneaking about.”
As her group split, Em chewed on her lip until salty blood trickled into her dry mouth. The dryad and half-elf followed her in silence as they trudged up the final switchback to the lair’s entrance.
The dark, mouthy cave yawned at them, as if it wanted to scream past its frozen layers of stone and pebbles—forever gaping at the world.
Em squinted at the hole, surveying what little of the winding path inside the mountain she could see.
It appeared to look the same inside as it did on the outside. Rocky.
A dragon was all she could think. Adrenaline swelled through her. A real, fucking dragon.
“We should’ve brought a torch,” Roden muttered.
“I have just the thing for that.” Sasha slapped open her inventory and pulled out a small glowing potion.
She uncorked the bottle before downing the fiery contents.
In a whiff, her dark skin began to glow with an umber luminance.
She grinned past the new sheen on her body. “Dancing Light, level 1 guild spell.”
Without any hesitation, Sasha marched into the mouth of the dragon lair. Shadows leered away from her illuminated body and along the various stalactites.
Roden and Em followed. Their tense breathing echoed off the vaulting cavern ceiling.
Pillars and archways lined their path, dripping with cavern water.
The droplets let out hollow splunks throughout the darkness.
Thick humid drifted from the depths of the passageway, no doubt from Brolzross’ hot breath.
She wiped sweat off her brow, fighting against her jitters.
Although her boot heels clicked on the ground, Em mentally repeated to herself that they’d be waking the dragon up anyway, so there was no need to creep around.
I can do this.
Can you though?
“We should hurry.” Sasha’s sudden voice cut through their joint silence. “Otherwise, Polo will wake Brolzross before we do and become dragon lunch.”
Em picked up her throbbing feet. Small puddles along the slick cave ground soaked into the hem of her dress and cloak as she ran.
The wet fabric slapped at her sore legs.
She gritted her teeth and fought to ignore the exhausted cramps swelling in her side.
She had more important things to deal with than being tired. Like lying and stealing from dragons.
The tunnel twisted and ended in a drop.
She gasped, Roden grabbing at her shoulders before she fell face-forward off the cliff. Em skidded to a stop, flailing to regain her balance.
Massive golden heaps of glittering treasure sprawled endlessly before them. The hoard reflected small rainbows from Sasha’s glowing body, shimmering with gloriousness.
“Whoa,” Sasha whispered. “This would more than pay for my travel expenses.”
“Travel expenses?” Roden asked.
“Ever heard of per diem?” the dryad bobbed her wry eyebrows.
“No?” He shuffled closer to Em, breathing down her neck. “Should I be concerned about your spending habits, princess?”
“It’s fine.” Em waved him off. “Frugalness is a trope anyway.”
In the center of the plunder, a steep slope of gold piled higher than the rest. Two thin streams of smoke wove from the heaps where the dragon slept underneath.
The musty air reeked of bad breath and teenage-boy’s armpits, forcing Em to cringe.
Guess dragons really just want to rot in bed all day, huh?
So do under-appreciated Authors.
“There he is,” Roden growled to himself, his hand gripping the hilt of Destiny’s Song at his side. “ Brolzross the Nocturnal, terror to the Wood Elves of the Glorious Musclewood.”
“Hope he’s excited to sleep for eternity.” Sasha moved her arms about herself to angle the light of her glowing skin to better check their surroundings. The dryad frowned. “There’s not really a good way down into the hoard.”
“Guess we’re jumping,” Em said.
“Excuse me?” Roden demanded. “There could be tons of hidden weapons or sharp objects down in there!”
“Except, it could be pretty damn fun too.” Em waved his concern away. “Besides, I’m a Main Character, I can’t die.”
“Remind me to charge for medical insurance and risk-of-injury premiums,” Sasha grumbled, leaning over the edge to inspect the far drop into the seas of gold below.
“Why can’t we just wake him from up here… where it’s safe?” Roden asked.
“Why Roden Trislee,” Em clicked her tongue. “You’re sounding a little scared.”
“I don’t do heights.” He blushed underneath his smoky eyeshadow.
“Well, no time’s better than the present to face our fears!
” Sasha dove gracefully off the cliff, headfirst into the gold.
Metal rattled and clattered in all directions as she landed into it, a ripple of coins rolling away.
The clamor echoed off the vaulted ceilings, and the hoard shifted like disrupted sand on a beach.
Before Em could overthink it, she cannon-balled into the hoard with a yelp. Shock whipped into her body upon impact. Sharp objects clawed at her from all sides as she sank into the layers of gold. Wriggling, she struggled to climb out of the grating, warm metal.
Everything reeked with rust.
A coppery taste filled her mouth, and she waded back to the surface. Weight tugged at her cape and skirts as the fabric snagged on various treasures. Already, her arms throbbed with forming bruises from impact.
Walking on blankets of coins and goblets made for awkward footing. None of the books she’d read with dragon lairs described what wading in treasure, in a long dress no less, was like.
Miserable, she thought. It’s extremely fucking difficult.
Noted.
A nearby crash alerted her that Roden finally jumped in after them.
Ahead, Sasha leapt between the mounds of gold with ease.
For one moment, Em wished she had the stereotypical heroine’s athleticism to succeed in everything physically challenging, but she shook the idea away. If tumbling and tripping was considered original, she’d do it for hours.
Bunching handfuls of her skirts, Em trudged her way through the golden ocean. She grunted and huffed as she tugged against her sinking legs with every step.
Time to kill a dragon.