Chapter 2
“HAIL THE CONQUERING HERO!” I yelled as I squeezed my way through the cavern tunnel. “Or, you know, a close approximation.”
The cool stone wall scraped my grubby skin and rasped against my leather armor. I still smelled, but I had found a sliver of soap in my saddlebag, and I hoped to use it once I wiggled my way into my sometime accomplice’s home.
At no response, I called again. “Fine, not quite a conquering hero, but at least I won!”
I turned a tight corner, then stumbled into a huge natural grotto.
Over the centuries an underground stream had worn away the rock, creating a large, enclosed space with a towering ceiling.
Rivulets of cool whitewater spilled down one wall and dumped into a large pool off to the side.
Stalactites of various sizes protruded from above, and slow drips ran down their lengths and fell with splats to the hard ground.
The floor was slick with spray and condensation, and I had to watch my step as I ventured farther.
The cool, damp air raised goose bumps along my arms. One beam of setting sunlight spilled from a small hole in the rock near the highest point, illuminating veins of glittering quartz and pyrite in the walls, but offered little in the way of heat.
Otherwise, there was no natural light, which made the shadows toward the back of the cave deep and dark.
“Dave?” I called, stepping farther into my friend’s residence. “Are you here?” I squinted into the dark. “Dave?”
Feeling around the edge, I navigated to the spot where I usually slept when staying overnight, a carved-out bench in the wall with stolen blankets and a feather pillow.
“Dave?” I called again as I bumped around noisily until I found the torch I’d used the last time. Using the flint from my bag at my hip, I managed to light the tip of the burned cloth and wood. Holding it aloft, I turned and—
“Boo!”
I gasped, dropping the torch and yanking my sword from my scabbard, a shrill scream erupting from my throat.
Dave chuckled, falling over onto his side, while smoke billowed from the large nostrils in his snout. The golden scales of his belly gleamed in the sputtering firelight cast by the torch, much like the golden coins of his hoard in the recesses of his cave.
I pushed my hand against my chest, feeling the rabbit-beat of my heart under my palm. “What the fu—”
“Did I get you?” Dave asked as he sat up on his haunches and smiled, showing off the rows of razor-sharp teeth in his mouth.
“Yes!”
He chuckled under his breath. “Excellent. I’d been wanting to do that for ages.”
“That was not funny!”
Dave shrugged, his wings shifting behind him. “It was hilarious. Did you hear the sound you made? The notoriously cool and composed Ellinore the Brave squealing in fright. The scandal! What would the populace think?”
“I almost skewered you!” I sheathed my sword as I scowled, choosing to ignore the dig about public opinion. “I could’ve hurt you.”
Dave snorted, his tail swishing on the ground behind him. “I would’ve dodged.”
“I can’t believe I’m friends with you… you unhinged overgrown lizard.” I scooped up the torch and held it aloft as Dave continued giggling under his hot breath.
“I’m a delight! A charming dragon who adores a good joke. Besides, I have to get my entertainment somehow, since I’m not allowed to play pranks on the human folk anymore.”
“And rightfully so.”
Dave was my second quest ever. Several years ago the king declared that the person who rid a neighboring village of a pesky dragon would receive an obscene amount of gold.
I found Dave right on the outskirts of said town, eating sheep and terrorizing the populace with his awful pranks and jokes.
I convinced him to make a deal. He’d stop his activities, and in exchange I’d split the royal reward with him.
The bargain was in his best interest because there were about a dozen other questers bearing down on his location who would not hesitate to stab him with pointy weapons.
In the end he made the wise choice and hid in a cave, daring to hunt and fly only at night, and only on the mountainsides, which afforded him a limited, but allegedly tasty, selection of wild game.
After we’d shaken hands—well, claws—I journeyed to the castle and told the king that the dragon had been vanquished.
I used that term specifically because in the beginning of my career I tried to stick to little white lies, and not the intricate yarns I’ve had to spin since.
Anyway, a single golden scale from beneath Dave’s front leg proved what I’d said, and the king and queen bought my story.
It was one of the better bard tales, since Dave had helped me embellish the details of what really happened.
“Did you do it?” I asked as I followed Dave deeper into the cavern.
He slithered ahead of me, his long, spiked tail dragging behind him. “Of course I did,” he said, spine twisting as he looked over his shoulder, green eyes glittering. “But I can’t believe you had me moving spider egg sacs. The task was vile and not one I’m willing to repeat.”
“Yeah, well, it was that or dragging the dead momma spider for miles by her web. Which was equally disgusting.”
Dave spat fire as he settled down in his usual spot and lit the other torches in the sconces on the walls.
They flared to life and the entire cave was bathed in a gentle glow.
He perched on the small hoard he kept in the main chamber, a pile of golden coins and jewels, modest compared with what I knew he kept in another section of the cave.
Dave’s body was larger than that of a horse and much longer from snout to tail, but small for a dragon, or so I’d learned from scrolls.
His scales were mostly gold, with a smattering of red and orange between his horns.
A large, spiked barb adorned the tip of his tail, and he had two leathery wings folded at his back.
He moved as if he didn’t have bones, able to navigate the smallest nooks and crannies of the cavern system and sneak out the small back entrance when he needed.
Lithe as he was, he was still impressive.
He towered over me when he stood on his hind legs, even while I was atop Bluebell.
He could be terrifying if he wanted, but as I’d come to learn, he preferred bad jokes and gold to breathing fire and eating people.
I settled in a wooden chair Dave kept for me, and tossed the torch off to the side. “At least tell me the egg sacs are safe and we didn’t actually make the giant spiders of the world extinct.”
“They’re safe. There will be a mountain pass that will become inordinately dangerous for travelers in a few years, but for now all is fine.” He looked at me expectantly, his clawed feet digging into the mound of gold as a cat would knead a blanket.
“Good. I don’t need any more guilt.” I dropped my saddlebag at my feet and stretched my arms above my head and yawned. “Remind me—are man-eating giant spiders ancients or folklores?”
“Folklores, I believe,” Dave said. “Though I’m not sure if they possess any magic other than their ability to grow to large sizes.”
“You don’t know?”
He narrowed his eyes into slits. “I may be old, but I don’t know everything.”
“Whoa. I was just asking. I am merely glad that another folklore has a chance to live on. It feels like there are fewer and fewer out there.”
“Maybe if the humans would cease killing the ancients and folklores for sport and coin, then there would be more.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said quietly. I always hated the way other questers often defaulted to killing rather than utilizing basic problem-solving or communication skills.
It was a relief to be done with it. “Speaking of coin.” Rummaging in my bag, I dug out the reward pouch.
Dave’s eyes glowed with interest as he watched me remove his share of the gold.
When I tossed it onto his pile, a low, pleased rumble vibrated up from his gut into his throat.
He grasped the coins with his front claws and tucked the gold under his belly.
“Enjoy those, because they will be the last ones I bring for a long time.”
Dave pulled his attention away from his newest acquisition and narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I did it.” I spread my arms. “Ellinore the Brave has officially retired. No more questing. No more lies. No more of any of it. I’m done.”
A curl of judgmental smoke wafted from Dave’s nose and from between the gaps in his sharp teeth. “What brought this on? I thought you liked questing.”
“Well, yeah. It’s fun in a disgusting way,” I said, gesturing to the grit and grime clinging to my body.
“But I finally had enough gold to purchase a house on the southeastern coast for my parents. Which was always the goal. I’ve sent them on their way.
This,” I said, hefting the pouch, “was one last fun hurrah.”
“I thought we worked well together,” Dave said with an exaggerated pout.
I touched the thin silver bracelet at my wrist, my way of calling Dave if needed.
He’d gifted it to me after a disastrous quest that involved an enraged strix where I almost died.
Come to find out, strixes were one of the few magical beings that didn’t like to negotiate.
Since then, all I needed was to rub the bracelet between my fingers with intent and Dave would come.
“We do work well together. And we’ll always be friends, but I’ve reached my goal of helping my parents and my brother.”
Dave scratched his cheek with the claw of his foreleg. “What about you?” he rumbled.