Kaln had been reasonably sure on their first outing that Pheneraxa was deliberately flying with unnecessary roughness in an attempt to discomfit him; with Vadaralshi, it was harder to tell.
She did indeed go bounding down the tunnel entry in a needlessly vertical gamboling gait like a puppy, then plunged over the edge of the landing and sent them both plummeting straight for the forest floor below them, wings folded to her sides. It was terrifying, and it was what she would reasonably do if she were trying to give him a hard time… But then again, it was also believable that this was just how she took off. It was Vadaralshi.
In fact, after his conversations about her with Tiavathyris, Kaln was coming around to the realization that she was probably savvy enough to have deliberately cultivated that impression for the exact purpose of creating this ambiguity. That was worth pondering…another time, when they weren’t plunging nose-first at the ground.
Her wings snapped outward at what was undoubtedly the last possible second, and their fall angled rapidly into a glide. The burned, skeletal tops of trees cracked under the impact of her scales as Vadaralshi swooped right through what had been the forest crown, and then upward, the abruptness of the maneuver leaving Kaln feeling as if he’d left his stomach back there somewhere.
The exhilaration was indescribable.
He let out a long, ululating whoop of his own, spreading both arms skyward as if he could help her glide as Vadaralshi beat her wings to regain altitude.
“Having fun back there?” she asked, turning her head to grin at him.
“Hells yes!” Kaln slapped her scales with both palms, grinning just as broadly. “We didn’t have one of these back at the library!”
She laughed gleefully, and flowed into a series of wide, deep banks, swooping and tacking back and forth over Dragonvale just because she could. Kaln cheered, holding himself in place purely through his divine link to the dragon under him as he brandished both fists in exuberation.
Far above them, Vanimax was patiently circling like a vulture. Seen from a distance, the pattern of his two-tone scales was obscured, making him look a uniform deep red, still unlikely to be mistaken for his sire’s vivid crimson—to say nothing of the difference in their sizes.
All around them spread a vista which had seen better days. A bit less than half of Dragonvale was still verdant, thanks to the timely rainstorm about which Kaln had dutifully not asked or even alluded to in Emeralaphine’s presence. After a week, the green of moss and weeds had begun to reappear among the black; more of the trees still stood than had fallen, and though they’d been charred, quite a few had begun to put out pale green leaves again. What was most striking to Kaln was what had been hiding under the canopy, now revealed by the fire.
The ruins were too small in overall scale to have been a city, but too large in their individual structures to have suited a town or village; nothing remained now but foundations and the shapes of the thickest walls, but that much was apparent from the air. Perhaps it had been a fortress, or some noble’s summer palace? A temple complex, maybe, or even a university; institutions of learning were more often found within cities, but some—like mountaintop observatories—were sometimes built near important sites of study, such as the enormous Timekeeper ruins occupying one of the nearby mountaintops and the valley behind. All this had been built in the days of the Valereld Empire, who had assuredly known what was there before Atraximos had made it his den.
Kaln couldn’t not be intellectually curious, but he knew just enough about archaeology to know that the likes of him had no business blundering about in ancient ruins without expert supervision.
“All right, fun’s fun but we’re on a mission,” Vadaralshi said after several more gratuitous swoops. “I’ll take you out flying some other time, Pants, let’s get back on track.”
“Finally,” Vanimax grumbled, gliding down to their level. “If it helps you, Ralshi, if we stay on task you’ll soon have a whole bunch of witless mortals to show off for.”
“That’s right, Max, you just keep up that attitude. You’ll make friends in no time.”
“Why would I want to—hey!”
Vadaralshi beat her wings and shot ahead, rapidly climbing until she crested one of the ridges surrounding Dragonvale. Up ahead of them loomed even more towering mountains; continuing to pump her wings, she was putting on both speed and altitude, clearly aiming to pass over the peaks.
“Wrong direction!” Vanimax shouted, catching up with clear effort. “The desert is south, you blind albatross!”
“Weren’t you listening to Emmy? There’s a right way and a wrong way to approach a god! Trust me, we need to make a little stop first.”
It wasn’t just the next peak she passed over, but the next beyond, and still the next. By the time the land suddenly opened up before them, they had risen to such a height that not only the mountain peaks but the great plateau which spread suddenly below were dusted in white, and Kaln had to clench his jaw lest the combination of chattering teeth and dragonflight imperil his tongue.
“You seem like a guy who’s read a few maps,” Vadaralshi called over her shoulder, “so I assume you know the cliffs all along the coast are why the Evervales have no eastern seaports except Ostenpass. Most of the eastern highlands aren’t inhabited, and for once that’s not our father’s fault. This is old country—big enough fauna to support dragons, but also a lot of outright monsters, and a bunch of weird magic leftover from who knows what. Even the Valeri at their height only kept a few outposts up here. Nowadays, the only mortals to ever clamber up here are adventurers sent on monster culls.”
“It’s-s p-pretty s-scenic,” Kaln stammered.
“Oh, shit!” Vadaralshi looked back at him in alarm. “Sorry, Pants! I’m not used to thinking about passengers.”
He felt her calling upon magic, and suddenly he was warm again. Even the effects of icy wind on his skin disappeared; he found he could once more breathe properly despite the thinness of the atmosphere.
Kaln grabbed control of the spell, causing Vadaralshi to twitch under him. “Oh, it’s a universal weather protection—that’s neat! So it’ll work just as well when we get to the desert as here. Good thinking, Vadaralshi!”
“Yeah, well, mother always says never do two halfhearted jobs when you could do a proper one once. It feels weird when you do that, just so you know. Ah, there we are, just what we’re looking for!”
They had sailed well past the barrier range and were now over a seemingly endless steppe, dotted by patches of towering conifers dusted with snow and delineated by the highest peaks of this range in the far distance. Vadaralshi now banked, adjusting her course; it was a few more seconds of terrifyingly high-speed flight before Kaln’s eyes detected what hers had.
The herd was a vast, amorphous mass spread across the tundra well before they drew close enough for him to begin to pick out details. He had never seen aurochs in person before—well, a lot of their bones, before he’d had the vault cleaned up—but they were unmistakable by description alone. Each over twice the size of domestic cattle, sporting double-pronged horns which seemed disproportionately enormous even on their bulk. He could see snow shaken from the boughs of the closest pines by the thunder of their uncountable hooves; even so high up the noise was a constant drone.
“We’re hunting?” Vanimax demanded incredulously, drawing abreast of his sister.
“Meat and hides! We show up to the Hiiri with a gift, and they’ll be a lot more inclined to help send a stranger into the arms of their deity—not to mention that Hii-Amat will be more receptive after we do some of her people a solid. Grab a couple and then we’ll head south.”
“A couple?” Vanimax exclaimed.
“Each!”
“You’re not serious!”
“Make yourself useful if you’re gonna tag along. You’re the one who wanted to come.”
“I don’t—that was his idea!”
“Sure, Max,” she chuckled, then folded her wings and plummeted into another dive.
It happened with terrifying speed; Kaln didn’t actually see the kill, partly because it was so fast but mostly due to her body blocking his view. When they swept low enough for Vadaralshi to grab prey, the noise of hoofbeats was so all-encompassing he could hear nothing else. He felt her activate magic, though, a charm enabling her to haul two giant cattle in her claws without their weight or wind resistance messing up her flight. A second behind, he sensed Vanimax doing the same.
Then they were swooping up again, circling away.
“Nice work!” Kaln yelled above the wind noise as they left the herd behind them. “I know it’s pretty redundant to comment that dragons are good hunters, but damn that was impressive to see in person!”
Both of them raised their heads in flight, visibly preening. They were even easier than Emeralaphine; it turned out that people who’d spent a century of life being taught to value their pride above all but rarely receiving compliments were exceedingly receptive to flattery.
“The family eats well!” Vadaralshi agreed.
“Most of the time,” Vanimax added. “Sometimes it’s Pheneraxa’s turn to hunt.” His sister cackled and beat her wings harder, regaining altitude to rise back over the southern barrier mountains.
Rather than continuing on course, however, she glided down in a tight spiral, setting herself to rest on a barren sheet of tilted rock overlooking a drop to the next, lower peak with nothing between them but a stony indentation that couldn’t be called a valley.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“Last chance to stretch your legs, Pants.”
“Why are we stopping?” he asked, even as he teleported to the ground. Standing near the two dead aurochs really reinforced how uncannily huge they were—especially when Vanimax set down roughly nearby, adding his own brace of cattle to the pile. Kaln could see now that all four had been cleanly killed by bites or claw strikes to the back of the neck.
“Just wanted to double-check our plans, in case you have some more specific directions,” Vadaralshi explained. “Like Emmy said, there’s a site sacred to Hii-Amat, which is probably where you’ll end up being directed to have a personal audience with her. I could take you straight to it, too. But, that could be interpreted as…aggressive.”
“Right, better to approach a Hiiri settlement and find a priest first.”
“Hence this little sit-down,” she said, nodding. Her jaws were still flecked with blood, steaming faintly in the frigid air. “There are a few prospects for that. The Hiiri themselves are nomadic—their actual social groups don’t live in any one spot. However, they do keep some permanent enclaves. These are more, um… Ritual or strategic sites than towns as you Rhiva would think of ‘em, I guess. Trading hubs, places of healing, temples…y’know, stuff like that. I don’t actually know what went down between you and Hii-Amat or how much of Emmy’s worry is just in general. Did you manage to piss her off or something?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” he said hastily. “It was during my apotheosis. The four major local gods and the Nine of Rhivaak all told me to go screw myself and die; Hii-Amat is the deity who took it on herself to step in. It’s thanks to her I survived the process.”
“Ah, so this is a debt we’re dealing with.” Vadaralshi nodded again. “Well, then I’m even gladder we picked up some party favors. So, if she’s already positively disposed toward you we probably don’t need to worry about any of the red flags I was about to warn you against. What about more…proactive tidbits? For something like this, symbolism matters. You got any other outstanding connections, any hint of a specific kind of route you’d like to take, or that you think would be best?”
“I don’t really even know what to suggest,” Kaln admitted. “Connections…actually, I made it all the way across the savanna and the desert without encountering a single Hiiri. The Entity was guiding my path; I think it was trying to avoid me making any friends or connections along the way.”
Vanimax snorted derisively, his hot breath making a dense cloud in the mountain air. “I cannot believe how long you followed that obviously ill-intentioned specter around like a stooge.”
“Never let yourself become consumed by revenge, Vanimax,” Kaln advised gravely. “It makes you do really stupid things.”
“Yeah, that’s something Max obviously knows nothing about,” Vadaralshi said innocently. Her brother hissed at her; she just grinned.
“The only personal connection I might have aside from Hii-Amat herself is…basically nothing.”
“Well, let’s hear it anyway,” Vadaralshi prompted. “It may be strategically nothing, but in the realm of gods and whatnot, little things can matter.”
“When I was approaching the Evervales across the desert, I met someone coming the other way,” he explained. “A cryomancer from one of the Vale states. She didn’t want to talk about her business, but was adamant against going to Rhiva territory; she was looking for Hiiri groups. I just assumed she was hiding from some kind of political trouble, the Valefolk are kind of famous for that.”
“Oh, yeah, people hide with the Hiiri all the time,” Vadaralshi said, nodding. “They won’t tolerate bandits and such, but outsiders willing to keep their heads down and pull their weight have integrated into their tribes. The Hiiri aren’t reclusive, they’re just strict about interacting with outsiders on their own terms.”
“This would’ve been something to bring up before we left home,” Vanimax added. “Divining the location of some human based on nothing but your vague memories is the kind of obviously impossible task Emeralaphine probably knows a spell for.”
“It’s not worth a divination,” Kaln said quickly. “I only thought of it since Vadaralshi asked. Like I said, this was basically nothing. I gave her directions to an oasis, she made some ice for me, and we parted ways. It’d be nice to learn she got somewhere okay, but that doesn’t seem probable. Or relevant.”
The dragons exchanged a look.
“A cryomancer, you said,” Vadaralshi mused. “Do you know if she had a sub-specialization in conjuration?”
“I…uh, what? No. Like I said, we barely talked. What does that mean, and why does it matter?”
“There are two kinds of cryomancers: those who just manipulate temperature and ambient moisture to make ice, and those who conjure up their own ice from scratch.”
“If your friend is the first kind, she’s definitely dead,” Vanimax said bluntly. “A cryomancer dependent on environmental water in a desert? No chance.”
“Conversely, if she was able to conjure her own moisture, well… An ice mage who can do that is basically the ultimate apex anything in a desert,” Vadaralshi continued. “You said she made ice for you. That would’ve caused some air movement—do you remember if it was blowing toward or away from her spell?”
“Away,” Kaln answered immediately. “I definitely remember that. The breeze was very refreshing on my face.”
“Ah.” She nodded, grinning. “And this ice—did it seem to swell outward from within when she created it, or grow by layers coalescing on top?”
“Uh…the first one, I think. Yeah, that actually sounds familiar, I remember thinking it looked kind of unnatural.”
“That’s conjuration,” Vanimax said, nodding. “She’s fine. The first Hiiri who found her probably made her their queen. Can you imagine how valuable an infinite source of ice would be to desert people?”
“Even better, that gives us our approach!” Vadaralshi declared, stretching out her wings. “A human who didn’t want to encounter other humans, who the Hiiri would consider valuable enough to keep around—whatever tribe found her would’ve taken her to Riincroft. That’s a kind of universal safe place for all the tribes; they don’t do or allow any trading there, but keep it as a resource stockpile for any tribe in need, and a secure place to live for any Hiiri who’re too sick or elderly to stay nomadic. That’s perfect! There will definitely be priests there, and it’s exactly where they’ll be most grateful to get presents like this. Good job, Pants!”
“Glad I could help,” he said, still somewhat bemused. Vanimax snorted and shook his head.
----------------------------------------
Riincroft proved to be an interesting geological feature the Hiiri had exploited. Far to the northwest from the relatively gentle savanna, where the sandy desert gradually rose in a series of increasingly rocky hills to eventually become the mountains to the north, a cliff wall rose from a relatively flat expanse of sandy badlands. In this was a canyon with only a single entrance, spreading and branching out behind into a surprisingly deep network of chasms guarded by inhospitable rocky ridges above; approaching from the air, they could see the impressive size of its layout, as well as the various structures erected throughout the corridors within.
What impressed Kaln the most was the fortification erected across the canyon’s entry: the Hiiri had put together a sturdy-looking wooden wall, with a gate large enough to admit a wagon when opened. The whole thing was secured by iron fittings, rather than the rope binding he would have expected. Actually, the iron was less impressive than the sheer quantity of very large logs that had been imported to build this. The nearest trees this size were a significant distance from here as the dragon flew, and easily four times that accounting for the winding course they would have to take overland from the Evervales.
They made an unnecessarily wide approach, circling broadly across the desert below rather than beelining for Riincroft itself from the horizon. Kaln understood the idea—if people had to deal with dragons showing up, a little time to prepare might make them more comfortable. He worried it might have backfired, though, if only because the Hiiri of Riincroft spent the extra minutes this brought frantically closing and barring their gates.
Not that it would have helped.
Vadaralshi made no aggressive moves, however. She drifted in as slowly as could be managed while still staying aloft, coming to rest a few dragon lengths from the gate, and proceeded the rest of the way on foot.
At a trot, in fact, approaching with one huge aurochs clutched in her jaws and the other cradled in the crook of one front arm. With her head high and moving with a practically prancing gait, she looked preposterously pleased with herself.
Behind her, Vanimax landed less carefully and followed less gracefully. Kaln didn’t need to look back to see him rolling his eyes.
Multiple furry little heads poked above the wooden ramparts above, along with several spears, but only a single Hiiri—particularly brave or having drawn the short stick—remained outside the gates, barring the path forward with her tiny body. She clutched a spear herself, staring in wide-eyed stupefaction up at the approaching dragon.
Kaln had never actually seen a Hiiri in person before. He knew their history, obviously, but for reasons that very history made obvious, they preferred not to approach Rhivaak, even after all this time. He had heard of the odd individual venturing to Rhivkabat for one reason or another, but he’d never encountered one of those few, and the tribes themselves stayed well clear. So he recognized the description, right down to why some scholars insisted they were so-called “true therianthropes,” being clearly not just humans mixed with some animal species, most of which had been created long ago by some god or wizard or somesuch.
The Hiiri before them now was about half human height, which he’d read was average, and covered in tawny fur with white highlights. She had a long, pointed muzzle like a fox or rat, with huge floppy ears draped halfway down her back, and powerful digitigrade legs that made them famously excellent jumpers. Her prehensile tail was longer by half than her entire height from paws to ears, growing increasingly fluffy along its length until it ended in a bushy floof greater in diameter than her chest.
Vadaralshi trotted up and spat down the aurochs right in front of the Hiiri guard, followed by her other one. “Hi there! Do you like beef?”
The guard, impressively, stood her ground, staring wide-eyed at the aurochs and then up at the dragon. And then at the other dragon, as Vanimax stomped irritably up alongside his sister and added his bounty to the pile.
“Ah, sorry, it’s been a while,” Vadaralshi said, grimacing. “Ahem. I bring gifts for the croft, to be used where they are needed most. I ask nothing but shelter and the fire for a night.”
The Hiiri guard squinted incredulously, leaning forward. “Vadaralshi?”
The dragon blinked twice, then stepped forward and lowered her head, bending her sinuous neck down over the pile of aurochs to bring her face right up against the tiny woman’s. Continuing to impress with her backbone, the guard didn’t retreat, though she lowered her spear to a position that wouldn’t be taken for aggressive.
And then blinked as her fur was ruffled by Vadaralshi sniffing her.
“Hum. I’m positive we haven’t met before. Seems like I would’ve remembered you.”
“I—hah!” The guard let out an incredulous little bark of laughter. “Not me, no. But believe me, we remember the friendly green dragon. That is not something the tribes would likely forget! You were…a friend, for a few years, and then stopped coming.”
Interesting—she spoke Vhii. With a thick accent in a dialect Kaln had never heard, but it seemed they hadn’t found reason to shed the Imperial language.
“Ah…yeah. Sorry about that.” Vadaralshi raised her head again, frowning. “My father found out, and…you know him. No fun allowed, or everybody dies. On fire.”
“Yeah, we…that was what most people assumed happened. The Valefolk traders said you were still around, hunting in the mountains. Huh, I was not expecting to get confirmation of that when I woke up this morning. Um…about your father…”
“Don’t worry, things have changed,” Vadaralshi assured her with a grin. “I would not have come back if it would pose a danger! This is my brother Vanimax. I apologize in advance for whatever he does and/or says, and assure you it’s because he has no social skills, not because he means any harm. He’s not going to eat anyone.”
“Ugh,” Vanimax protested, curling his lip. “For what possible reason would anyone eat one of these? Absolutely tiny and at least fifty percent hair by volume.”
“Case in point,” Vadaralshi said merrily. “And this is my friend Kaln! He’s quite nice, just keeps strange company.”
“I think that’s the best summation of myself I’ve ever heard,” said Kaln, leaning to one side to wave at the nonplussed guard from around the dragon’s neck. “Hello, glad to meet you!”
“Um…”
Before the guard had to come up with a proper response, the gate behind her creaked, beginning to swing ponderously outward. The very second it had opened enough for a Hiiri to squeeze through, one did.
This one’s fur was pure white; her shoulders were noticeably stooped, and she walked with a slight limp and the aid of a staff taller than she was. Even the fur of her tail seemed somewhat patchy and less than fluffy. Despite her obvious difficulty moving, however, she practically scampered forward, followed hastily by two younger women.
All four, Kaln observed, had some kind of tribal decoration on their left arms, consisting of heavy wooden armbands just below the shoulder and above the wrist, connected by lengths of braided cord wound all the way around the arm. He assumed it had to be ceremonial in purpose; that wouldn’t make much sense as armor.
The Hiiri elder limped as fast as she could, which was notably faster than a human in similar condition could have managed, circumnavigating the pile of dead cattle until she had drawn close enough that Vadaralshi had to bend her neck to keep her in view.
Raising one hand as if reaching for Vadaralshi’s face, the old woman gazed up at her through narrowed eyes for a moment, and then finally a grin spread across her muzzle. Her sharp teeth were ivory-colored with age, but looked strong. Her voice, likewise, was not weak despite the rasp of long years.
“Baba Washy.”
Vadaralshi blinked, then narrowed her own eyes. She lowered her head again, and this time the Hiiri elder fearlessly reached forward to rest her hand on the dragon’s muzzle. Her fur was blown forward and then back, twice, as Vadaralshi sniffed her.
“Why…little Liiri,” the dragon said incredulously. “Look at that, you grew up. All the way up.”
Liiri burst out laughing and dropped her walking stick, leaning forward to hug Vadaralshi’s nose.