The first thing he saw was his mother’s body, lying on a bed of jejing moss, just inside the entrance to the den. She wore her favorite loincloth, the only one left from the time they lived in the Deep, and her fur was neatly groomed. With her eyes closed, and her hands resting at her sides, she could have been sleeping, except that her body held none of the constant energy that had filled her when she was alive. No, this was an empty shell, laid out for all to gawk at, and the sight made Kaz almost irrationally furious.
Rushing forward, he began to cover the body with moss, hiding it, since he wasn’t strong enough to move it. Lifting his muzzle, he howled, “Rega!” Never mind that she was a female, and he a male - a pup, no less - this was unacceptable!
Silence.
Silence, rather than an answering howl, or the other males coming to see who dared call for their leader. A shiver ran down Kaz’s spine, and his hands stilled.
“Rega!” He stood, looking around. “Killik! Lek!” These were the two strongest males remaining after the luegat. Even if lesser males had been guarding the entrance, Killik or Lek should have been nearby. “Bik!”
His eye caught on a smear of something dark on the ground, and he swallowed hard. Sniffing again, he caught a hint of copper and sweetness. He frowned, drawing closer to the brownish-red mark, which looked like something had been dragged through a small pool of liquid. Leaning in, he forced life energy into his nose, and drew in the deepest breath he possibly could.
It was as if a dam broke. All the odors that had seemed like distant echoes pounded into him like a club, and he yelped, scrambling backwards, falling onto his tail. His tribe, yes, he could scent almost all of them in that single whiff, as well as blood, and fear, and other things he didn’t dare let his mind linger over. But through it all was a musky, reptilian scent. It was familiar, and yet not.
It smelled like the dragon nest. Like, and yet not like. Not one of the adult dragons, certainly. He had smelled them often enough, and they were too large to make it here, anyway. A hatchling? Maybe. But he didn’t think so, not with how strong it was, and he’d seen all of them fly away. Why would they return and come all the way down here?
A heavy hand came to rest on his shoulder, and he yipped, flinching away.
“C’mon, Blue,” Raff murmured. His weapon was in his hand, and he looked around, eyes cold and calculating. “Anyplace your people would run if something went wrong?”
Kaz blinked as if waking from a dream, and the smells withdrew as quickly as they had taken over. He pushed a little power into his nose again, and the odor was back, though it was subtler this time, since he’d used less energy. Closing his eyes, he turned his head, following the scent of kobolds.
Gathering himself, he climbed to his feet, nodding to the human. “This way.” Sniffing, he wound his way between the few rough huts that served as their homes. The Broken Knives had dwindled as a result of Oda’s constant battles, shrinking from the few hundred members in Kaz’s earliest memories to only twenty-three. Of those, few were younger than Kaz himself, since Oda didn’t want any other female to produce a pup who could challenge her or Katri.
Kaz hesitated by Oda’s hut, then entered Rega’s, which was right beside it. The furnishings were exactly as he remembered them, except for the low table made of bones and tanned hide, which had held the chief’s book. Oda hadn’t spent much time reading, but Rega could often be found poring over the fragile vellum sheets. It had mostly been Rega who taught Katri to read the book, and Rega who had been the main storyteller and teacher for all of the tribe’s pups.
Now, the table was overturned, and a few more drops of blood speckled the ground nearby. So, Rega had been injured, but not so badly that she couldn’t take the book as she fled. Either that, or she had ordered someone else to get the book, and that kobold had left the trail of blood.
Kaz drew in another deep breath. He didn’t smell anyone in here but Rega and, more faintly, Katri. Good, then. Hopefully Rega was still all right.
Turning, he stepped back out of the hut, nearly bumping into Raff, who stood, silent and watchful, by the door. Kaz shook his head at the human, who acknowledged it with a flick of his eyes, and then returned to scanning their surroundings. Kaz turned his eyes to the ground, finding that, for once, vision was more reliable than smelling, unless he wanted to push more power into his nose. Which he did not. Smelling that horrible melange of blood, musk, and other, darker things once had been more than enough. He had no doubt that the aroma would haunt his nightmares, if he was ever able to sleep again.
The trail of blood led out of the small grouping of huts, toward a narrow stream of water, and the cave where the tribe stored food until the fuergar chewed their way in. They had been in the process of emptying and closing off that cave, but the stones that had been piled across the entrance were now scattered all over, and the cave entrance stood wide open again.
Raff stepped on a yellow rock, which crunched beneath his foot, releasing a burst of stench that made the human wrinkle his nose, though he never stopped scanning their surroundings for danger.
“What in Pellis’ pants is that?” he muttered, stepping around several more chunks.
“Sulfur,” Kaz answered quietly. “It’s about the only thing fuergar won’t eat. Keeps them out of the rest of the den, at least until they eat around it.”
The human shook his head, stepping into the former storage cave, and Kaz followed him. The hole at the back of the cave was thrown into stark relief by Raff’s glowing rock, and Kaz frowned at it.
“They went through there,” he muttered, “but why?”
Raff looked frustrated as he eyed the hole, which was far too small for him. “Needed a back door?” he asked.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
Kaz shook his head. “There’s a hole in the floor of Rega’s hut. It leads to a tunnel to the level below. That’s where they should have gone, if they were forced to flee, but if they used it, it would still be open, and it wasn’t.”
“Where’s this one go, then?” Raff gestured toward the dark opening with his long knife.
Approaching cautiously, Kaz stared into the blackness beyond. “The fuergar’s nest. We went in and put down as many as we could find, but they scattered. One on one, almost any kobold can kill a single fuergar, but a swarm of fuergar?” He shuddered, his mind conjuring terrible images. “I don’t understand why they would go this way. And why leave Oda’s body behind? Like-”
“Like an offering. Or a sacrifice,” Raff said, grimly. He looked from the fuergar tunnel to Kaz. “Do you know another way to the nest? There’s no way I’ll fit down there.”
“Can’t you-?” Kaz mimicked the motions Chi Yincang had made as he sliced away the stone around the peephole overlooking the Longtooth camp.
Raff snorted. “I can do a few little tricks,” he said, “but I can’t slice stone like cheese.” He waggled his long knife. “My sword is made of good steel, and it’s enchanted to stay clean and sharp, but that’s its limit. My guess is that even Chi Yincang couldn’t do that for long enough to carve a tunnel however far we need to go.”
Kaz set his hand to the edge of the tunnel. “I’ll go. You stay here, and I’ll-”
“Die, like as not,” Raff grunted, grabbing Kaz’s arm. “Find another way, or leave them. I’m supposed to help you take the message, sure, but Gaoda’ll turn my guts into guitar strings if I let his pretty blue kobold go down there and get eaten.”
Kaz strained against the human’s grip, even feeding some power into his muscles to help, but his efforts were utterly ineffective. “Fine,” he snapped. “There’s another way, but it’s long and twisting. The fuergar follow ore veins, hollowing them out and leaving tunnels behind that seem all but random. We broke through to one when we were clearing the nest, and I know where it comes out.”
Raff swept his ‘sword’ to the side, stepping out of the way. “After you, Blue.”
“Kaz,” Kaz muttered, leading the way. “My name is Kaz.”
The human didn’t answer, but he followed close on Kaz’s heels as they made their way back through the den. This time Kaz did poke his head into Oda’s hut, as well as a few others, and saw nothing except more signs that everyone in the tribe had fled so quickly that they hadn’t taken anything except what they could snatch and carry away in their arms.
As Kaz passed his mother’s body, he hesitated, looking down at her. The neat bed of moss was now scattered around and over her, her face half-obscured by a particularly large bundle. Reaching down, he gently brushed it away again, marveling at how strange she looked without the force of her personality shining through. She seemed older, somehow, and for the first time, he noticed silver strands of fur hiding among the crimson.
As he turned to go, he saw Raff staring down at the body, looking perplexed. The human extended his sword toward Oda’s belly, as if he were going to stab her, and Kaz started forward. The tip of the sword just brushed aside another bunch of moss, however, revealing a darker blotch nearly hidden by the deep red of her fur.
“What is that?” Raff asked, leaning in a bit, though he never lowered his guard.
Kaz knelt beside his mother, his fingers suddenly trembling as they reached toward her stomach. Kobold pups loved to rough-house, and often fell asleep in tumbled piles after wearing themselves out, but most adult kobolds only touched their own mate and pups. Rega had taken on the role of comforter, as well as caretaker, so Kaz hadn’t actually touched his mother in years. Not since his father died, at least.
Cautiously, Kaz brushed aside the fur, half-expecting to hear Oda snap at him angrily. No admonition came, however, and his fingers traced a cold, damp spot nearly hidden by the strands of fur. He looked closer, and saw that it was a hole.
Raff’s voice was detached as he said, “Done after she was dead. Not enough blood otherwise. Someone took out her core.”
Kaz stood, wiping his fingers on a handful of moss. “What’s a core?”
Sighing, Raff explained. “Some monsters have ‘em. It’s what lets them - you - gather mana. Most female kobolds have one, though not all, but they’re usually junk cores. Only worth a few coppers, maybe a silver, so hardly anyone even bothers with ‘em.” His eyes narrowed. “You said those screechers we fought usually lived somewhere else, right? And Lianhua said none of ‘em had a core. Outside Scarabus, that wouldn’t be surprising, but the monsters in here have been exposed to the magic of this place for so long that a lot more of ‘em have cores. Shoulda been at least one in that lot.”
Kaz’s mind was spinning. “Screechers? You mean the janjio? Yes, they should have been on the same level as the Palefurs, not this one. And what is… Scarabus?”
Raff gestured around them. “This. The mountain. What do you call it?”
“Just… the mountain. It is what it is. Why would it need another name?” Kaz asked, trying not to think about the hole in his mother’s belly, and the ‘core’ Raff seemed certain had once rested there. Who could possibly have removed it? Not Rega, surely. Though males weren’t involved in preparing females for burning, so maybe that was just part of the process?
The human snorted. “To differentiate it from all the other mountains? Though I suppose if you never see another one, you wouldn’t need to call it anything but ‘home’.” He shrugged the topic off. “This gives us a little more information, though. Someone or something may be hunting cores. The ones up here won’t be all that great, but still, they must be a lot stronger than any regular monster outside. The ambient mana here is thick enough to poison anyone who doesn’t know how to handle it. It wouldn’t kill a normal person, but they won’t feel particularly good after a day or two, and the deeper we go, the worse it’ll get. That and the difficulty getting up here are the only reason you lot aren’t constantly overrun with treasure hunters and adventurers.”
Turning, he looked back toward the small, sad cluster of huts. “That’s probably why your kin ran, though. Core-hunters get stronger with every core they absorb, so this one could be pretty powerful just from the screechers, and we don’t know what else it’s eaten. It’s going to want any other cores it can sense, and it sounds like Rega, at least, has one.” He looked conflicted. “I should really head back and see what Gaoda wants me to do.”
Rega, Kaz thought, closing his eyes. He thought of his aunt; gentle, kind - far kinder than most kobolds. ‘Too soft’, according to Oda. Just right, as far as Kaz was concerned. He drew in a deep breath, forcing down the nausea and fear that twisted in his stomach. Right above what he now suspected was his own ‘core’.
“We have to save her,” Kaz said, looking up at Raff. “Gaoda told you to take me to her, so I can deliver Katri’s message. I won’t guide you all anywhere until Rega and the others are safe with Katri.”
Raff huffed a breath that was almost a chuckle. “Fine. I’m willing to go to the nest of the Ironfang Rats, but only as long as you’re in no danger. My first priority is to keep our guide intact. And we have to hurry. Gaoda won’t like it if we’re not back before they’re ready to leave.”
Jerkily, Kaz nodded. Without another word, he turned and began to run.