Silver Dragon (34 page)

Halgin lowered his head so he looked the same as when Alto had found him. Alto wanted more. He needed to hear more from him. He tried to step forward but between the time he picked his foot up and it landed
, the scenery changed around him.

Frigid wind whipped past him, tugging at his hair and clothing. He looked around and found that he was on a mountaintop, on the edge of a crater.
He kept turning and saw at the highest part of the crater's lip a woman was bound to a wooden pole that had been driven into the rock. The wind whipped her dress and hair around her, obscuring her face. Alto didn't need to see her to know that it was Patrina.

He tried to walk around the crater towards her but a blast of hot wind burst from the crater beside him, staggering him. He shielded his face and looked into it, only to see a shape climbing out of the darkness. He fell back, stunned when he recognized his surroundings from his dream.

The dragon kept climbing until a sleek silvery claw emerged and grabbed on to the edge of the crater. The dragon's silver talons pierced and cracked the rock, giving it purchase to pull itself up farther until it towered over Patrina. She twisted and pulled against the ropes that bound her, trying to escape.

"No!" Alto shouted. "Stop! Don’t hurt her!"

Sarya turned her head on her serpentine neck and stared at him. She opened her silver-fanged mouth and let out a sibilant hiss that he realized was laughter. She was laughing at him. Alto reached down to his side and found the sword he'd taken from Beck. He grabbed it and pulled on it but the sword was stuck. He couldn't draw the blade from its scabbard.

"She is the last of her line, as are you," Sarya hissed at him. "She will die and her people will languish. You will live. You will live and you will know your folly!"

"No, let her go," Alto begged. He took his hand off the cold hilt of his sword. "Let me take her and we'll go away. Far away, never to bother you again."

Sarya hesitated. She appeared to consider his offer. She repositioned herself on the rock to face him directly and let the massive rubies that glowed with an infernal reddish light take him in. She laughed at him. "You fool, I've already won. I am immortal!"

Alto wrenched at his sword and managed to pull it from its sheath. It felt cold and heavy in his hand. He stared at it and then looked up at Sarya. She turned and looked at the struggling lady and said, "The only disappointment with my new form is that I don't need to eat anymore. No more maidens." She sighed and then shrugged her massive silver shoulders. "There are other ways to dispose of them."

Alto shouted in denial as Sarya raised a silver talon and sliced it through Patrina's skin, starting at her throat and not stopping until the entirety of her organs were exposed. Impossibly, they stayed inside and Patrina screamed in agony. A moment later
, everything spilled out of her, and she sagged against her ropes.

Alto ran and leapt out into the chasm. He reversed his grip
and held the sword above his head before plunging it towards Sarya's side. It struck her silver body and slid away without even a scratch. He lost his grip on the sword and bounced off her metallic body before falling into the dark crater.

* * * *

Alto gasped when he found himself in a stone garden. Statues of men and monsters were littered throughout, including some he'd never heard of. In the middle, he saw a fountain with a hooded figure sitting on the edge of the pool and looking at him from the shadows of the hood.

"Who are you?" Alto asked after he'd calmed his nerves.

"Does it matter?" Alto was surprised to hear the voice from beneath the hood was feminine.

Alto frowned. He looked around at the statues and saw that nearly all of them seemed to portray the models ready to fight. He looked back at the figure. "You did this?"

"You are quick-witted," she said.

"You're the only one alive and these statues show men in positions that cannot be held for long."

Her chuckle sounded ominous in spite of its light tone.

"What I just saw, has it happened yet?" Alto asked.

"What did you see?" The robed woman feigned innocence.

"Don't toy with me!" Alto snapped.

The woman rose and moved so quickly she was a blur in his vision. She stood next to him, causing him to gasp in surprise. Her hand rose out from beneath her robe, parting it enough to reveal a long and lean leg and hip. She reached up with fingernails sharpened to points and scratched the untrimmed hairs that had grown on Alto's neck.

"I will toy with you as I wish," she hissed at him. She walked around him, showing glimpses of flesh through the part in her robe that Alto had only dreamed about. When she'd completed her circle
, she dropped her hand beneath the robe so that she was concealed again. "You see possibilities. The one you fear the most."

"It was true about my family."

"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" He could hear the smile in her voice.

"I know who you are now," Alto said. "You're Jarook, the saint of fear."

"And you're a scared little boy," Jarook said.

"I never thought you were a woman," Alto challenged the saint.

"I wear many guises. For you, I chose the one that can kill with but a glance. How much more terrifying is it to know that all your strength and skill is useless against me? Would you like to gaze upon my beauty, warrior? You will die with a smile upon your face and then your troubles will be over."

"Patrina's still alive? My friends? All those people and cities?"

Jarook sighed and turned away from him. "For now, but time moves quickly and with every passing second, possibilities unfold."

"I can save them?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps. What if you're not there? Who will save them then?"

"I will save them," Alto vowed.

She spun faster than he thought she could and was behind him, pressing herself against him. Through her robe and his clothes, he could feel the firmness and the softness of her body. Her sharp-nailed fingers were about his throat as she hissed in his ear, "Not if I take you."

"I have to save them."

"Why?"

"Because nobody else can!"

"That's not true. You are but one man amongst many. Anyone could rise up and do as you have done."

Alto stiffened as her fingers traced teasing circles on his neck. "I have to stop Sarya."

"To save your friends?"

"Yes!"

"But what if you can't? What if you're too late? What if it's all in vain?" Jarook breathed into his ear.

"I will. I must." Alto closed his eyes against her subtle torture. "I have to."

"Because of the people you love."

He nodded.

"What of Sarya?"

"What?" Alto tried to turn but her grip became as hard as iron and prevented him fro
m twisting.

"What if she just went away after she got what she wanted
?"

"She won't. She will destroy nations. You saw my dream."

"Yes, it was wonderful. So many people afraid. You have such potential."

Alto scowled. "It wasn't wonderful, it was horrible. It must be stopped. She must be stopped."

"Because of what she'll do, or because of what she's done?"

Alto's breath hissed through his teeth as a fresh group of statues appeared in front of him. They were statues of his family as he found them. "Yes," he moaned.

"You want vengeance."

"Of course!" he snapped.

"You fear you won't get it," Jarook said. She released him and stepped back. "You're not afraid of what she'll do; you're afraid if you don't stop her, someone else will."

Alto shook his head but couldn't stop staring at the statues. "No one else can. No one else has."

"No one has had a chance."

"It has to be me!" Alto spun and turned on Jarook. "I have to kill her!"

"Do you feel it?" Jarook asked him. "Do you feel how frightened you are?"

"I'm not afraid," Alto growled. "I'm furious."

"Anger is a cheap and petty thing. Look beneath it, look at what causes it. You're angry because you're afraid. I want to keep you with me—your fear tastes so delicious!" She laughed lightly and added, "Oh, there's a fresh dish of it at the mere thought of never leaving."

"What do you want?" Alto asked. "What will it take for you to let me go?"

"You would barter with me?" she asked as she took a slow step forward that exposed the flesh of her thigh as it parted her robe. She stopped in front of him and stared up at him from beneath the impenetrable darkness of her hood. "You tried to barter with Sarya for Patrina's life and that didn't end so well."

Alto gasped as he thought back to the dream. "You're wrong."

Jarook chuckled. "Tell me, mortal, how I could be wrong?"

"I offered Sarya a deal for Patrina's life. Doesn't that prove that there are more important things to me than the dragon's death?"

"But you're still afraid."

"Of course I'm afraid," Alto agreed. He remembered what Thork had said to Sir Amos and rephrased it for Saint Jarook. "A wise man told me that all men are afraid
; the worthwhile ones are those who can face their fear and do great deeds in spite of it. Only a fool thinks he is without fear."

"You speak with wisdom far beyond your years, boy
." She sounded disappointed, not impressed.

"From a troll that does a wonderful job striking fear into others on your behalf. He calls himself Thork."

"I will have to have a talk with him about sharing the secrets of my inner circle," Jarook snarled.

"Thork is a member of your inner circle? Is he some sort of angel or something?"

"Thork is mortal," Jarook said. "Or he would be if anyone could figure out a way to kill him."

"What—"

"Enough of the troll. His business is between him and me. You need not concern yourself with him."

Alto nodded. "
He is my friend."

Jarook chuckled. "He is an agent of fear
; he has no friends."

Alto shrugged. "I don't know whether I'm his friend or not, but he is mine."

"I'm growing tired of this," Jarook said. "And you begin to bore me. Kiss me, warrior, and you may return to your pathetic little life."

"No."

"What? You would deny me? You may keep your eyes closed so you don't gaze upon my beauty."

"I won't kiss you," Alto declared.

"You've kissed girls before, surely?"

"I have, but my heart belongs to another."

Jarook stared at him beneath her cloak. She turned and looked towards the fountain. Where Alto's family had once stood was a new statue. He saw Garrick and Patrina locked in an embrace reserved for whores.

"Does your heart still beat for her?"

Alto pushed his shock and anger down. It was fear causing it. She was preying on the things he feared most. Alto nodded. "It does."

"You've been gone a long time while the northlander was with her," Jarook teased. "You denied her. Perhaps she struck back at you using the barbarian's spear as a weapon?"

Alto gasped at the crude image she painted with her words. Her suggestion twisted its way into his thoughts and made him question himself. He had spurned her advances; would she have turned on him? Could she have gone to Garrick's room that night out of hurt and anger?

He shook his head and straightened his back. "No," he insisted. "She risks her life for me. I do not believe it."

The statue disappeared. "Thork has chosen well. I look forward to the next time we meet, warrior."

"I hope that will never happen," Alto admitted.

Jarook laughed. "You know better. Every drop of fear brings a taste of you to me." She tilted her head up so that he saw the tip of a pink tongue emerge from the darkness beneath her hood and taste succulent red lips. Her hood tipped down again as she teased, "And you taste so good."

Alto stared at her, at a loss for what to say. "May I please go now?"

Saint Jarook chuckled. "Nothing's holding you here but yourself. Stop being afraid of moving forward."

Alto frowned. How was he holding himself there? He didn't know how to escape her garden. Then again, he hadn't known how to fly himself to Portland or Holgasford either. He closed his eyes and tried to will himself back to his body at the forge in Highpeak.

* * * *

Alto woke up with a gasp. He choked on his own spit and coughed until he nearly rolled off the table. Someone grabbed him and held on until the coughing fit passed. He looked up and saw Karthor staring down at him with a look of concern on his face.

"Thanks," Alto rasped. He cleared his throat and coughed once again and then smiled and nodded. He stood up, with the priest's help, but could barely hold himself upright. Alto felt back for the table and when his hand touched it, he sat down on the edge and looked around.

"Yous was out for a while," Thork said.

"I tried to help you but something was blocking me," Karthor explained. "It wasn't that Leander was denying you; it was something else."

"
Saint Jarook," Alto said. He looked up at Thork and smiled. "She's a handful!"

"Jarook isn't a she!" Thork cried out. "Him's one scary
saint, dat's what him is!"

"Jarook appeared to me as a woman clad in a hooded robe. She said to look upon her face is to die."

"Oh, dat Jarook," Thork muttered.

"That Jarook? You mean there
is more than one?" Karthor asked.

"No, no, not like dat," he explained. "Jarook has lots and lots of avatars. Whatever scares yous da mostest."

"Speaking of that, she said she was going to have a talk with you."

"Oh balls," Thork groaned. "Dat's gonna suck."

Alto expected that to be an understatement.

"How's the new sword coming?"
he asked.

"Here," Garrick said, approaching from the side. He held the new blade cradled in his arms with the hilt protruding toward Alto.

Alto reached out with a trembling arm. He hoped he'd have the strength to lift the blade. He needn't have worried; as soon as his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a surge of warmth flooded through him. In that instant, all of Alto's exhaustion and weakness were gone. He stood up from the table and held the sword up, marveling at the shine reflected from the glowing pit.

"It's perfect," Alto breathed in awe.

"Mordrim said the blade was flawless," Garrick confirmed. "I helped him make it."

Alto smiled. "You did a fine job." He let his eyes travel from the wide blade and the keen edge to the simple cross piece and
hilt.

"The dwarf said when we had more time
, we could make a more fitting guard, hilt, and pommel," Garrick said.

"I don't need it to be pretty
. I need it to kill Sarya," Alto said with a shrug. He glanced about. "What about a scabbard?"

Garrick grabbed the plain scabbard that was leaning against a smaller table and handed it to him. Alto slid the sword into it and smiled when it
fit snugly in place. He glanced down at his belt and saw his old sword was missing. A wave of irritation flashed through him.

"Where's my other blade?"

"Here," Alto said, pointing at the sheathed long sword. It was leaning against the burnt remains of a wall.

Alto took a step towards it and then stopped. He had a new sword now. A new sword that made him feel incredible. The old one had made him forget his hurts and given him an aggression that had served him well, but it had also cost him. He'd been quick to anger and almost as quick to kill with it.

Alto turned back to the table he'd lain on and rested his new sword on it. He wanted to pick up the old one and see how it made him feel now. He was calm and at peace for the first time in months; he wondered if he could see for himself if the sword was wrong for him, as his friends insisted.

As soon as Alto let go of his sword
, his knees buckled and only his hands on the table allowed him to keep himself from falling. He gasped and straightened, and then looked up at Thork. "What happened?"

Thork nodded. "Dat sword is part of yous. It took yous life to make it and bind it to yous soul."

Alto touched the sword and felt his vitality return. He shook his head. "That's amazing. Will it always be like that for me now?"

Thork tapped one of his teeth. "Maybe yous could break da sword and wif lots and lots of mojo we could put da spirit magic back in yous."

Alto shook his head. "That sounds complicated. And I'm not sure I want to have another run-in with Saint Jarook!"

Thork let loose a belly laugh. "Dat's da troof!"

"If you're afraid of Jarook, why do you pray to her? Or him? Or whatever?" Garrick asked.

Thork
chuckled. "Why does you like hunting and bashing stupids? Dat's who Thork is. Dat's what Thork does."

Karthor was nodding as the troll spoke. "A true priest seldom has little choice once he feels his calling. We can deny it but we are not complete."

Garrick scowled. "That would be a bad thing, to not be able to do as you wish."

"This is what I wish," Karthor said. Thork nodded in agreement where he stood.

The barbarian looked unconvinced but he let the question drop.

Alto tested letting go of his sword a few more times and found that once he got used to the strange shallow feeling
, it wasn't so hard to make the transition. "It's not so bad. I feel weaker without it, but not so weak that a kitten could knock me over."

"Thork has seen some big kittens in dem mountains," the troll offered.

"I bet you have," Alto said with a chuckle. "Do you still want my old sword?"

The troll nodded.

"What will you do with it?"

"Maybe give it to some other stupid someday."

"But you said it was an evil sword!" Karthor protested.

"Nope, Thor
k said it was a nasty sword. It's just a fing. Sure, dere's mojo in it dat makes stupids like to do stupid fings, but dat doesn't mean it's evil. It's just a chunk of metal and mojo."

Alto remembered what Saint Jarook had said about Thork being one of her agents and that he had no friends. It was beginning to make sense to him. "Go ahead, Thork, you can have it."

Thork nodded and walked over to the sword. He picked it up without any sign of being affected by the aggressive magic of the blade, and then he turned and grabbed his spear. He thrust the spear into one of the tarps tied up to provide the forge with some privacy and a break from the wind and then slit the blade down the tarp to create a rift to his magical storehouse. Thork tossed the blade through the glowing seam and then closed it up, leaving the tarp unharmed.

"Where are the others?"

"Mordrim's sleeping. Fool dwarf scarcely took a break all week from working on that sword," Garrick said. "I helped at first but that steel is something else. Harder than I ever seen."

Alto smiled at the northlander. "Don't worry, I won't tell Mordrim."

Garrick smirked.

"Namitus is helping Tristam, and Tristam is helping Sir Amos."

"What?" Alto asked.

"His wound did lasting damage to his leg
; he has trouble walking very far on it. He won't be coming with us into the mountains," Karthor explained. "Sir Amos needed help with running the city but didn't trust any of the clerks or aides here, so he asked Tristam for help."

Alto laughed. "I bet Tristam's beside himself!"

Karthor grinned and shook his head. "Far from it. Seems he's got a good head for keeping track of the details. He fusses about it but you can tell he's enjoying himself."

"After all the complaining he did about nobles, he's trying to become one," Alto mused. "Namitus too?"

Karthor laughed. "Hardly! Namitus is just keeping in everyone's good graces. Meanwhile, he takes the gold from whoever he can talk into playing cards with him. Seems Sir Celos enjoys a game of chance himself. I'm not sure Saint Leander would agree, but it's doing no real harm. No matter, Namitus will jump at the chance to come with us. He'll be glad to see you're acting more like yourself again."

Alto nodded and glanced up at the dark sky. Clouds blocked the stars, making him wonder. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A little more than a day," Karthor said.

Alto's mouth fell open. "It went by so fast."

"Not for us," Karthor said with a weary smile.

"I expect not
. Well, I need to be off; we're running out of time before the first of spring."

"We need to be off," Karthor reminded him.

Alto offered the priest a smile. "Yes, we. We'll leave in the morning then?"

"How can you still be tired?" Garrick asked.

"A long conversation with Saint Jarook is far from restful!"

"Dat's da troof!" Thork said with a vigorous nod.

They laughed at the shaman and let the matter drop. Alto finished tying his new scabbard to his belt and then glanced up. Thork cleared his throat and glanced around. "What is it?" Alto asked him.

"Thork's gonna go. Da next part is for yous to do."

Alto nodded; he'd expected this part soon. He knew it wasn't a matter of Thork being afraid. It had to do with who the troll really was. "Thank you for everything, my friend. I hope to see you again."

Thork grinned. "Thork's got a hunch dat yous gonna be getting yous self in trouble again.
Ooh! Speaking of dat…" The troll trailed off as he stabbed another tarp with his spear. He stepped halfway into the rift and could be seen sorting through things. When he emerged, he held a bundle in his hand that was tied with a string. "If yous get dat lady back give her dis. If her gets bashed, Thork take it back da next time."

Alto
took the bundle of cloth and was surprised by its weight. He felt it and realized after a moment that it was more than just a set of clothes; he felt pieces of metal shifting. He looked up at the troll. "Armor?"

Thork nodded and then he laughed
. "Dat's for da lady, not for yous!"