“Confound thee, Nathaniel,” The bid red dragon practically roared in Nathaniel’s face. “I hast told thee a dozen times now, I need not thy mothering! I am hale, hearty, and in firm fettle. Thy concerns are groundless and not a little aggravating.”
“Uh-huh,” Nat said without really hearing as he checked under Quentin’s wings for any sign of the poisonous wounds that had so recently threatened the great dragon’s life. In his mind’s eye he saw again the fight against the plague dragons that King Araxesendenak had sent against them; felt the impacts of their disease-ridden claws against the scales of the ancient wyrm beneath him, and remembered anew the blood freezing in his veins at Quentin’s cries of pain.
“Thy clerics have healed mine wounds, and the lich hath purged the poison from my body–though unsure am I how exactly t’was done,” Quentin continued as Nat scrambled under his belly, running long fingers along the ribbed scales there. “I assure thee, I am unhurt and unharmed.”
“And I’m just supposed to trust the lich all of a sudden?” Nat asked, coming up on Quentin’s other side and checking for wounds there too. “The guy who up until a month ago was an undead despot of unspeakable power and a sense of humor that graverobbers would call ‘a bit macabre’? Yeah, no thanks,” the elf snorted through his slender nose. “I’ll check and make sure on my own, thanks.”
“And just how exactly art thou going to satisfy thyself that the lich hast told the truth? Thou art no magi, to discern magical poisons or remedies.” The dragon’s voice had gone just a touch bemused, and Nat poked his head out from beneath Quentin’s wing to glare at the big galoot.
“My momma was town herbalist, and I put five exchanges in Apothecary. I know what poisoned flesh looks like, even if it did come from the maw of a big honking acid-spitting zombie dragon. So just hush up and let me give you a good once over, or so help me I’ll…”
Nat trailed off as his hindbrain, still prone to gibbering moments of terror, alerted him to the fact that he was mouthing off like a teenager to an ancient dragon, who was high enough level to take him out in a single bite and never even notice the chew.
Aw get stuffed, Nat said to himself. He’d been damn worried about Quentin, and now he was burning off all that nervous energy in one go on something actually productive. Sure, Quentin was probably right, and there wasn’t any more danger to him.
But dammit, ever since he’d pulled him back from the maw of death with that weird scale thing, Nat had felt sort of… Well, responsible for the big dummy.
So he was gonna make sure Quentin was alright, whether the dragon liked it or not.
“I’ll go tell Annie on you,” he finished his thought, glaring into the dragon’s golden eyes.
Quentin blinked. “Ah,” he said, frowning a thoughtful frown that made Nat’s hindbrain gibber again. “Misstress Tolliver. She would be… Unhappy, were thou to ‘tell’ on me.”
“Darn tootin’.”
A heavy sigh. “Very well Nathaniel. Finish thy examination.”
Nat grinned, certain he heard just a touch of fondness amidst the exasperation in Quentin’s voice. Without another word he dove back under the wing, fingers probing at the patches he knew Quentin had been hit. He honestly didn’t expect to find anything wrong, but… Well. You couldn’t be too careful these days.
A ghost of a memory slid through his mind. Chained to the floor, raw mana forced from his body into a ritual formation that would have turned the entire town into a ghost army… No hope, until Sam had kicked in the door and saved the day.
No. You couldn’t be too careful these days.
“Hey brother!” A familiar voice called out just as he was finishing his examination of Quentin’s underbelly. “You still here? Or did the dragon finally et you up?”
Nat grinned and scrabbled out from under Quentin again at Zeb’s teasing voice. “I’m here you little rugbiter. You ought’a know ain’t no dragon gonna eat me up while–”
He never would remember how exactly he was planning on finishing that sentence, because when he got out from under Quentin and straightened up he found himself almost nose to nose with the woman from the fight the other day, the one Sam had brought in, who had fought like a demoness hopped up on Red Devil in the battle. At least, she had from what few glimpses Nat had been able to catch of her while he was engaged in his own aerial combat.
“Uh, hi,” he said. He was staring. He knew he was staring, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
“Hi yourself,” she said with a quirk of her lips. “Nat, right?”
“Yup, that’s Natty,” Emmy said, poking her head out from behind the woman. “See? He’s got a dragon. Now who could ask for more in a beau?”
“He’s not my dragon–” Nat started to say, then his brain caught up with what his little sister had just said. “What do you mean ‘beau’?”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Oh, they didn’t tell you?” The pale woman in front of him stepped back and crossed her arms, the quirk turning into a full-on smirk now. “These two… I assume they’re your siblings?”
“For my sins, yes,” Nat growled, glaring at the two little elves, who matched it with their own innocent stares. “What did they do this time?”
“We had to make sure she was worth ya, bro!” Zeb enthused. “So we waited ‘til she got alone, and then we…”
Nat listened with growing dismay as his siblings spun an insane tale of… Mugging in the name of love? He didn’t even know what to call it. And when they’d finished they both looked at him, grinning like fools, not bothering to try and conceal the deadly weapons they still held in their hands. Lord, was that gramps’ sword that Zeb had? That thing was an antique! No matter that it wasn’t sharp enough to cut butter in anyone except a trained warrior’s hands. It was the principle of the thing!
“You did what?” Nat practically roared.
“So now we know that she’s a good ‘un. You two can start courtin’!” Emmy said, smiling that guileless smile that didn’t come close to fooling Nat.
“They said you’d taken a shine to me,” the woman–Marie? Marie sounded right–said in a tone that at least made it sound like she found this whole thing amusing rather than enraging.
Nat dropped his head into his hands and muttered a few words that would have had Pa box his ears if and when the rugrats told him about it, then raised his eyes and turned to Quentin.
“Eat them,” he said, deadly serious.
“No,” Quentin said, a gigantic toothy smile on his reptilian face.
“Traeacherous reptile,” Nat growled. “See if I ever save your life again.” Then he inhaled deep and turned back to Marie. “Listen, I’m real sorry about that. They ought’a know better than to do what they done. You can be sure we’ll be havin’ a talk later tonight,” he added, shooting them another glare.
“It’s okay. Not like it’s the first time I’ve been attacked in an alleway,” she said with a chuckle that sounded like silver. “At least they had a… Well, not a good reason, but a reason that they thought was good. That’s worth something.”
“So you two gonna court now?” Zeb asked, eyes wide.
“Take it easy kid,” Marie said, shooting him a look. “Know when to let it lay.”
She turned back to Nat, who was glaring death at his siblings, then extended a hand. “We met proper back at the wall, but I reckon we haven’t had a chance to talk since. You did good out there. You too, big fella,” she added up to Quentin. “I saw you in the air. You two fight like nobody’s business. How long you two been together?”
“Um. What time is it?” Nat asked, feeling off balance as he shook her hand.
She laughed again, and lord it did sound like purest silver forged into a woman’s laughter. Hadn’t Sam said something like that, long ago? He finally understood what he had meant.
“That long, huh? Well–”
She cut off, and Nat understood why a split-second later as he felt his connection to the essence reform. He hadn’t even registered that it was gone, but suddenly he felt like he could breathe just a bit easier, and a dozen different messages flooded through his brain as he was reconnected to the System. Most of them were just worried calls from distant relatives, trying to figure out where he’d gone so suddenly.
“Ah,” Quentin breathed out a deep sigh of relief from above them. “The lich must have discerned how to bring up the dungeon from the depths and return it to the world. Excellent.”
“Oh Lord that feels better,” Marie said, breathing in deep. “Like getting a limb back that you hadn’t realized you’d lost. Hey, do you–”
Nat didn't hear the rest of what she was going to say. A deep clanging gong noise sounded in his ears as if it were emanating from his own head, and he jerked back in pain and surprise even as a System Notification lit off right in the center of his vision.
***WARNING***
Sleeper protocols active in your area. Former Guardian processes online. Sleeper Protocols negated on individual basis only. Former Guardian immunity active. Connections refused. Warning, other mobs infected by Sleeper Protocols. Prepare Dungeon for incursion!
The air thrummed as a pulse of something nasty washed over Nat without actually touching him. He felt himself retch, then swallowed it hard and turned to the others. “Did any of you feel that?”
“Well duh,” Marie said, raising an eyebrow. “We just said we did, didn’t we? Those ears of yours are big enough, you ought to have heard us.”
“Not that,” Nat said, turning away and sweeping his eyes over the area, looking for trouble. “The other thing. About the sleepers?”
“I heard nothing other than the original announcement, Nathaniel,” Quentin said. “What didst–”
“Destroy the dungeon.”
Nat whipped around at the voice. It was Emmy’s voice, but wrong. Flat and monotone, and with an undercurrent of malice he’d heard from just one other creature in his life. The revenant had sounded like that, when he bound Nat to the ritual circle.
Emmy and Zeb stood there stiff and still as statues, a soft golden light glowing in their eyes.
“Oh no,” Nat breathed, starting forward. No, not the kids. Please gods don’t let it be anything bad…
“Hey,” he approached with caution. “Hey, are you two okay? Can you hear me?”
“What’s wrong with them?” Marie asked, stepping forward also. “Did something happ–Woah!”
As soon as she got within arm’s reach, Zeb turned with the grace of a world-class fencer and slashed at her with his sword. Nat blanched as the woman he had seen take on entire legions of mobs barely got out of the way of an old sword wielded by a ten year-old.
And then his eyes widened as the sword blade glowed an electric blue, ancient ancestral magics activating in response to a high-level warrior wielding it.
“Marie! Watch out!” Nat called the warning just as a bolt of lightning lashed out whip-quick from the sword blade and blasted the woman right in the chest. She was lifted off her feet and flung backwards from the force of the blase, landing in a twitching heap a few feet away.
“Zeb, stop it!” Nat rushed forward, hands reaching for his little brother and the sword. “What the hell are you do–Yipe!” He was forced to duck as Emmy turned and in a single smooth movement nocked an arrow to her bowstring and sent it winging his way. If he hadn’t moved, it would have gone right through his neck.
“Nathaniel!” Quentin’s roar ripped through the air, and a massive forelimb slammed down between him and his siblings just as another arrow zipped through the air. This one hit the dragon, and chipped off a scale from the force of the blow. Nat stared at the piece of red as it tumbled through the air. That shouldn’t have been possible, a piece of his mind reported. Emmy had just a basic bow. That arrow should have bounced off of Quentin’s armored hide without leaving so much as a scuff mark.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Marie roll away from another lighting bolt, barely missing getting fried. Emmy drew another arrow and this time swung it up to aim at Quentin, her eyes glowing with a fierce light.
It felt like he was stuck in one of Time's hiccups. Things seemed to pause just long enough for Nat to comprehend the situation, and to make a fast decision for which he knew he would absolutely hate himself later.
"Quentin get us out of here!" He hollered, scrambling forward and grabbing one of the great wyrm's forelimbs.
"Aye," the dragon rumbled and swept Nat up onto his back in one easy motion even as he ducked his head to avoid a glowing arrow from Emmy's bow. "Hold tight, Nathaniel."
"Marie!" Nat gasped as he hit the dragons back with more force than he had anticipated. "Make sure you get–" he broke off as Marie was dumped unceremoniously in his lap a bare second before the dragon gathered himself and launched into the sky. Nat felt a sting on the tip of his left ear, and jerked his head as another of Emmy's arrows buzzed by.
The dragon climbed into the air like he'd been fired from a ballista. Nar clung to the ridge of Quentin's scales with one hand and wrapped his other arm around the twitching woman in his lap, trying to ignore what those motions felt like against him. The dungeon had surfaced in the middle of some kind of plain, blueish grass rolled out in waves in every direction away from the town and the mountain, and the sun hung low in the sky. It was nearing dusk.
"W-w-what…" Marie was twitching and chattering as small jolts of electricity kept surging through her. "Th-the f-f-fuck w-was that?"
"I don't know," Nat said. He looked down as Quentin leveled out and saw his brother and sister standing in the town square. Even from here, he could see the golden glow that limned their forms. And as he watched, they were joined by others coming first in ones and twos from the side streets, and then in a steady stream. As Quentin circled back towards the dungeon, Nat saw a veritable tide of gold flowing in their wake. And every person he could see in the glow was armed.
"I don't know," he said again. "But it's spreading."