Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
Rhaz’s eyes fluttered open and his body jerked in surprise.
Some sort of furry creature was staring at him. It was stocky and gray and black, with markings around its eyes that made it look as though it wore a bandit’s mask. It bared sharp teeth in warning before lumbering off into the underbrush.
Rhaz sucked in a breath, then another, and took stock of himself. He had no idea where he was. Had the door, portal, or whatever it was, spit him out into another realm? Who would be stupid enough to open such a thing on the palace grounds anyway?
Portals between realms existed, but they were forbidden throughout most of the dragon realm because of the peace treaty.
His kind didn’t mind. It meant they were left alone.
No dragon wanted to be dragged into the politics of surrounding realms. The lesser races were always trying to beseech the dragons to help them in one war or another.
They often promised glory, honor, and gold.
But there was rarely glory, little honor, and usually no gold when one got down to it.
Rhaz pushed the thought aside. Had a dragon from one of the other kingdoms commissioned a portal into his father’s lands? Had he been abducted? Idiots. Who would dare such a thing in the palace?
He tried to rise, groaned, and failed. Rhaz lay there a few moments before he tried again. He noticed his clothes felt... different, and studied himself more closely.
His clothes were full of holes. “What the...?” Rhaz struggled to his knees. His princely robes were in tatters. His right sleeve completely gone.
He put a hand to his forehead. His head ached something awful, and his insides felt as though they’d been beaten to a pulp. All of him did.
Rhaz fought to stand, almost fell, but eventually managed it. He looked around, scanning the forest he found himself in. There was no sign of the door. Nor was there any sign of Basil.
Had the gnome emerged from the same door, or a different one?
Portals were two-way. You started in one destination, walked through, and arrived in another.
But he’d heard doors were different. They could lead to many places.
Some were like tunnels one traversed through.
Others could connect to multiple destinations depending on the magic involved and who had created them.
Or so he’d been told. His people didn’t dabble in such things. There were no wizards or sorcerers among them. Dragons relied on strength and intellect in varying degrees.
Rhaz stumbled forward, letting the moon light his way. He thought of shifting so he could heal faster, but considering the shape he was in, he doubted he could shift at all.
He spotted a rocky outcropping and steered clear of it. Something might have taken up residence there, and he wasn’t eager to encounter anything larger than the masked beast he’d already seen.
Thankfully, a trail appeared before him, and he followed it. The air here was pleasant enough, though heavy with moisture. That meant this place was nowhere near his homeland.
He studied his surroundings again and listened to the night birds. Rhaz didn’t recognize a single one. Even the moon looked different. Farther away. And what was that sound?
Rhaz left the trail and followed it. There was a vastness to the noise, and he sensed something large beyond the trees. He continued on, found yet another path and did his best not to stumble as he followed it.
Rhaz hoped he didn’t run into any patrols, but doubted anyone would be out in the woods this late at night unless they were searching for someone.
Hmmm. Could the people here know when a door opened? Were they hunting him even now?
He shook off the thought. First, he needed to find Basil. But before that, he wanted to see if his suspicion was correct.
After another few minutes, he broke through the trees and stepped onto a wider trail. A wooden fence lined the path.
Rhaz stopped and stared. Not at the fence. At the ocean beyond it. “By scale and flame.” His jaw dropped. “Where am I?”
Was he somehow in the land of the Azurale dragons? They lived near the sea. He’d never traveled to their territory, but his father had centuries ago.
Rhaz stared out over the beach and the endless ocean beyond. If he could shift, he’d fly over the water, follow the coastline, and try to determine where he was. But shifting was out of the question. For now.
Rhaz backtracked. He needed shelter. If someone found him, he wasn’t in any condition to fight. At least in his tattered clothes he didn’t look much like a prince. No one would think to abduct him.
He returned to the original trail and followed it until he reached a rise overlooking the land below. Rhaz’s eyes widened. “What place is this?”
Lights. Hundreds of them. They weren’t candles, lanterns, or even magic orbs. Tall poles lined the streets, each crowned with a brilliant white light that never flickered.
Buildings dotted the landscape below. A village? No. Too large. A town. Yes, that was it.
Despite the late hour, people still moved about. Not many. But enough. Who were they? Humans? They smelled like them. Yet, could there be shifters or something else entirely? It was hard to tell. The air had so many unfamiliar scents in it.
Rhaz hurried down the trail. His clothes weren’t going to last much longer in their current state, and he needed replacements. Fast.
When he reached a small bridge that crossed over a creek, he found another trail leading toward what appeared to be a park. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it. Except that it was empty.
That was good enough for him. He slipped through the park, careful to avoid the lights, and noticed an odd collection of tents and wheeled conveyances beneath the trees beyond a fence.
Some of the conveyances were enormous. Larger than some villagers’ homes he’d seen. “What in the blazing hills are those?” His gaze settled on one of then smaller conveyances.
It was moving.
The thing was yellow and oddly rounded, like some giant beetle made of metal. Two glowing circles on the front resembled enormous eyes. The strange creature hummed and rattled as it rolled along the road without legs.
Rhaz ducked behind a tree. As soon as it disappeared, he crept from his hiding place and headed toward the camp. His attention settled on something far more important. Clothes. He was having to hold his to his body.
Someone had hung garments on a rope stretched between two trees. Rhaz approached cautiously, scanning for signs of life.
Everything was quiet.
When he reached the line, he grabbed a pair of strange trousers that looked as though they might fit. He took a shirt, a heavier garment that would help keep him warm, several stockings, and a pair of shoes that seemed close to his size. There was even some sort of odd head covering.
He gathered everything to his chest. The clothing was slightly damp, but he didn’t care. It would dry soon enough.
He felt guilty about stealing. But what choice did he have? Wherever he was, he needed to blend in. And quickly.
Rhaz left the park, retreated into the woods and changed clothes. The trousers were a little snug. The simple white shirt wasn’t much better, and the heavier garment had a hood.
Good. He could use it to conceal his red hair, which might attract unwanted attention. The strange hat would help as well.
Once changed, he buried the remains of his ruined clothing and settled into a patch of brush to wait for morning. He had no idea where he was, but he knew this place was very different from the dragon realm.
Once again, he wondered if the people here were shifters like him, or something else? He could smell humans. Lots of them. But that didn’t mean humans were the only race living here.
The bigger question was what the people of this realm would do if they discovered he was a dragon shifter. Some realms hunted dragons. Others would pay a fortune to get their hands on a prince of dragons, if only to sell him back to his father.
Unfortunately, Rhaz was too exhausted to ponder the matter any further.
Within minutes, he fell into a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, Rhaz awoke stiff and cold.
He wasn’t used to the temperatures of this realm.
At one point during the night, he’d awakened to a light drizzle.
He wasn’t about to build a fire and give away his location, so he’d wrapped himself tighter in the odd jacket he’d found and relied on his shifter heat to keep warm.
His stomach growled as he ran his fingers through his hair and headed toward the trail that would lead him back to the park. When he reached it, he heard voices and ducked back into the foliage.
A group of people wearing strange clothes and hats, each carrying some sort of pack, chatted and laughed as they made their way up the trail into the woods.
Rhaz listened closely. He recognized the language and recalled it from his school days. He was well versed in many languages, but unfortunately this wasn’t one of them. Still, he knew enough to get by.
Once the group had passed, he emerged from behind a large tree. He didn’t know its name and had never seen anything like it. Not even in the realm of the Smaradel dragons, who made their homes in dwellings carved into the cliffs above the endless forests of Verdanth.
Rhaz continued down the trail. When he finally reached the bottom of the hill and came to the footbridge, he paused.
He considered crossing and seeing what lay beyond.
From the looks of it, the trail wound along an odd fence made of large crisscrossed metal wire before connecting to what appeared to be a street. Beyond it stood several buildings that looked like homes. Nice homes, from what he could tell. The lawns were neatly manicured and well kept.
One large red residence sat beyond the fence. The metal barrier surrounded the back of the property. The sides and front appeared to be enclosed by decorative iron fencing.
Rhaz stared at the house for a moment and cocked his head. “Hmmm...”
“Hey, mister, you got a light?”