14. He's Always Been Clever
Astra's plans hit a set back, but not for long...
The Lost City continues the journey of Astra, respected Head Librarian of the Tiered Library in the renown monastery Qordashi deep in the Balashilar mountains, after an attack on her home destroyed everything she knew and took the lives of people she loved. Her childhood companion, Traz, has returned after 25 years for mysterious reasons, and along with the Am’Ayat warrior Xavai they are on the run from the attackers: snow dragons and the dreaded tribe of Yosoi warriors.
Previously: Astra set her plan in motion...
Astra had read many letters and recounting of battles which were collected in her treasured library back at the monastery, but she knew better than to believe that would prepare her to take on a whole flight of snow dragons in order to get Traz back. For one thing, few people had ever gone to war with the dragons and lived to tell about it; for another, she was not trained to fight. Xavai was a better swordsman than she would ever be, even in his injured condition.
But they kept following the river as it grew broad and deep, and the forest’s undergrowth slowly thinned out. With the collective soul dust of the forest not being sucked away by the lost city anymore, it was vibrant and alive, but Astra felt a different sort of threat from it then. Instead of dark and gloomy, it was dense and dangerous—not evil in any sentient way, but a wild thing that could and would kill without remorse, like a wolf or a bear.
The fire dragon was still alternating between hopping and walking behind them, and the temple dogs paced further back under the canopy of the forest. Every so often Xavai would stop, look up and around, then return to walking. He was still moving slowly, but that was good for Astra, who had barely had any rest since using her necromancy magic to destroy the spell of the bespelled dam back in the city.
At one point, they ventured out onto a rocky outcrop to spy for snow dragons and saw a dark plume of smoke up the side of the mountain.
“The lost city. It must be all the old cloth burning.” Xavai spoke with a glance to the general area of where the fire dragon lurked invisibly among the trees.
“Good,” Astra said, remembering all the deadly straw men who had been set millennia ago to guard the place. The blaze that the fire dragon started in order to save them was serving as a kind of cleansing, Astra thought. There would be no magic left once all the straw men and old hangings and rugs had been consumed.
“It might be serving to distract the dragons,” Xavai added as they retreated from the river’s edge.
Astra nodded. The snow dragon had “said” it would be back before it flew away with Astra’s brother in its grip. She wondered why it had left to begin with—perhaps it was just, what, a soldier? A dragon of low importance? Who perhaps needed to retreat and converse with its leader? Astra silently bemoaned the lack of information humans had about dragons. What little she had collected over the years in the Tiered Library never mentioned any kind of hierarchy among dragons.
The dogs stopped first, drawing up tense and ready. Xavai followed, pausing for a moment before dragging Astra further back under the canopy. There was a loud whooshing noise and then a massive flight of snow dragons passed overhead, trilling loudly. The flapping of their wings created an enormous sound and Astra could not even tell how many there were, perhaps dozens. But they were traveling upstream, back in the direction of Ice Mountain.
“Why would they return? They do not have the grail.” Xavai frowned. Astra shrugged in response. Where ever they were going was in the opposite direction of where Xavai claimed Traz was being kept, and that was good enough for Astra.
Eventually, though, they could not keep going. Xavai slowed down further until he was stumbling along like a drunk, and Astra was not much better. With a sigh, she reached out to stop him, and pointed at the forest, saying that they needed to rest. The fact that they had not eaten since the day before was contributing to the lethargy creeping into their movements, and Astra felt the bruises she gained from her fall down the ravine keenly. She wondered at how Xavai was still walking at all, with his own injuries.
They slept fitfully, Xavai sitting up to avoid undue pressure on his ribs. At dawn he brought out the tiny crossbow he carried in his pack, which was not much bigger than his hand, and crept into the forest. He returned with a plump bird, stripping it and preparing it for cooking while Astra built them a very small fire to cook by, staying well under the canopy so the smoke would disperse through the branches and not alert any dragons.
Xavai did not mention the fire dragon, so Astra assumed it was close by. The temple dogs disappeared at some point in the night and returned by the time Astra and Xavai had finished eating their plain but filling meal. They sniffed around the bloodied ground where Xavai had slaughtered the bird and crunched up the dismembered feet.
“They are terrible,” Xavai grumbled, watching them as he gnawed on a leg bone.
“It is said they only eat magic. Perhaps this bird was a duck.” Astra laughed at the joke, even though it translated poorly. In Deshilli it was a double play on the word ‘bird’, which could also mean ‘teacher,’ while ‘duck’ was sometimes used as a disparaging term for a ‘mage’. Xavai, clearly not getting it, raised his eyebrows at her and she waved her hand in dismissal.
As they repacked and set out again, Xavai glared off to the side. “We will be leaving the river today. He’s kept somewhere that way.” He motioned vaguely in a direction that was north of where they were.
‘Somewhere that way’ was the floor of the valley they had been heading towards initially, at the foot of Broken Hump Mountain, which Astra only recognized because of its distinctive shape. Before they got close, Xavai found an outcropping of rock free of trees, which gave them a full view of the green valley below. It kept them mostly out of sight, although crawling out on the rocks would expose them completely if a dragon flew over. Astra kept looking up at the sky for any hint that the large flight of snow dragons were returning.
The river was over to their left with the mountain to their backs, but it obviously curved back around, as there was a campground next to where it flowed through the valley. The clearing looked brown with dirt, with one snow dragon resting off to the side. However, it was not alone. What looked like a short trader’s caravan was parked there, and even from a distance, Astra could see that most of the people were Yosoi.
When they were once again back in the cover of the blue forest, Xavai cursed. “I counted fifteen of them, mostly Y’soy. And the dragon.” He sat down with a thump, then winced, palming his chest under his armor.
“But he is there?”
He nodded. “In one of the tents.”
Astra looked around, although for what she was not sure. The temple dogs were not pets, and could not be commanded, at least not by her; neither, for that matter, could the fire dragon. She was a librarian and Xavai was injured. She sighed and sat down.
Xavai cast a glance over at her. “In the great epic Hifra Gero, evil King Menai’s necromancer Brayelhan calls forward an army of the dead from the dust of the Red Desert to fight his enemies,” he said with a disinterested air.
Astra narrowed her eyes at him but did not deign to reply, and he looked away sheepishly. Not that she wouldn’t call forth an army of the dead if she could, but that sounded ridiculous and also dangerous. The name of the epic was unfamiliar to her, but she had read many similar to it, where a great wizard burned her heart out or accidentally killed all those they loved by trying to tame a powerful spell. Astra was not interested in that. She had lost enough.
There was also the fact that if it was a trader’s caravan, Yosoi or not, there would be some kind of wizard with them to guard against magical attack.
Xavai twisted, grimaced, then settled back a little, but turned to face Astra. “We cannot win against fifteen warriors and a dragon.”
She nodded, because that was true. There was no telling why the snow dragons were, somehow, collaborating with the Yosoi for the first time in recorded history, but chances were good there was deep magic involved. They sat there, hidden from view, doing nothing because neither one of them had any idea what to do. There was the sound of crunching twigs and rustling noises nearby, which Astra assumed meant the fire dragon was staying close.
“I miss my companions,” Xavai said, gazing out at the sky. He looked sad and worn down, obviously still in pain. Aside from General Hiloh, everyone from his expedition had been killed when the snow dragons and the Yosoi attached Qordashi monastery. Astra felt ashamed for forgetting that in her own exhaustion and grief.
“Zochur will take care of Hiloh,” she said, not sure of what else might bring comfort.
“That one is a mighty warrior, I know they will try.” It was a concession but also a statement of doubt, perhaps worry.
“They were my babysitter as a child, and one of the monastery’s best cooks. I had no idea Zochur could even hold a sword until we were attached at the Gate of Tears.” She shook her head with a fond smile.
He looked doubtful. “No, I saw them fight. That was no cook. Butcher, maybe,” he said the last with a smirk, and Astra thought that Am'Ayat jokes were probably a lot bloodier than the ones she knew.
“I wish Zochur was here now. Both of them, even. We could use the help.” She sighed deeply.
He nodded in morose agreement.
“You call Traz a thief—he learned the trade in Zochur’s kitchens, always stealing food. Mostly sweets, but he once ran off with a whole pot of lakash stew!” She chuckled at the memory of Zochur standing on a porch and yelling Traz’s name like a curse, waving a ladle.
Xavai smiled at the story, his look fond as much as it was tired. “He must be good at what he does, to still be alive.”
“Stealing? I guess so. He’s always been clever. Naboch wanted to have him trained as a Ranger, but he resisted it.” She sighed. “Would that I could steal time, and go back—” She stopped.
Xavai shook his head. “Steal time, and?”
“And go back to steal him! Steal him! Xavai!” She reached over and shook him by his shoulders, making him grimace in pain. “We have to steal him!”
NEXT: A Terrible Plan
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That is a terrible plan. Looking forward to see how that turns out!