Dragon Chameleon: Paths of Deception Page 3

  I tilted my head to one side. I liked puzzles and I was bored. Maybe there was a way to make this door into more than just a door. Maybe it had to do with the symbols in the frame. I reached toward the nearest one, but a strange chill washed over me and I froze.

  What was that feeling? It felt as if every hair on my arms were standing up straight. I swallowed. Maybe I should take my time and choose my symbol more carefully.

  There were many to choose from - at least twenty. It made it hard to pick one, but as my eyes ran over them again and again, I kept being drawn back to one that looked like swirling smoke rising upward.

  Well, I could stand here all day, or I could do something. I reached for the smoke symbol, letting my hand trace over the carved surface of it. I felt icy chills run up my fingers and into the bones of my arm - but that was it.

  I'd been wrong about the symbols, I guessed. Oh, look! There was another smoke symbol. With my other hand, I reached out and touched it, too. I could reach them both at once but touching them both didn't do anything. Too bad. I'd hoped it would open a secret compartment or something. A freezing burn suddenly shot up both my arms. It swirled around them, filling them with icy pain.

  I pulled my fingers back and the pain subsided.

  Skies and stars! Was this some kind of torture device? If it was, then no thank you! No wonder they hid it down here! Someone should smash those mirrors so that no one ever found it.

  I should be getting back, anyway. I should be guarding the camp.

  I stepped forward, planning to walk through the gate and down the stairs, but as I stepped, my foot disappeared, and a wave of heat washed over me. It was as if the doorway had eaten it up. I pulled my foot back before I’d even completed the step, my heart racing and almost melted with relief when it came back whole and fine.

  I should try an arm. I plunged my arm through and watched it disappear with the same wave of heat, counted down from five and then drew it back. I had felt nothing strange except for that wave of heat. Strange. Was my arm okay?

  I rolled up my sleeve and gasped. A swirling symbol identical to the smoke symbol on the doorframe marked my arm in a silver pattern. I scrubbed at the skin, trying to smear or remove it. Was that from dipping my arm through the door? Nothing. It was as if the design was part of my skin now.

  Anxiously, I rolled up my other sleeve. My jaw dropped. My eyes widened so far that tears formed. The same silver design wrapped itself around that arm, too.

  I was marked.

  Not by going through the arch, but by touching the door. What would happen if I touched any other symbols? No, no, slow down, Tor! No more touching things that left permanent marks.

  I took a deep breath. Well, while I was here, I should do one more thing. I should stick my head through that door. Then I could see what was on the other side. But I had to be sure I could come back. What if I stepped all the way through and the door - or whatever it was - closed behind me?

  My mind filled with worse scenarios. What if I couldn't breathe on that side? What if nothing on that side existed and if I plunged my head through, I wouldn't have a brain to tell my body to pull back?

  I'd just have to risk it. If I didn't, then I'd spend the next days and months - maybe even years! - wondering what could have been behind this door. I swallowed and leaned forward, closing my eyes and my head slowly pushed through a fiery burst of heat. It was still burning around my neck when I opened my eyes. I gasped and nearly fell backward before I remembered that my feet were on solid ground, but my belly reeled, queasiness filling me.

  The other side of the arch opened on the side of a mountain and under the edge of the doorway was nothing but a sudden drop down the side of a snow-coated mountain into nothing at all.

  Chapter Six

  Only an idiot would jump off a cliff.

  I stumbled backward, falling to my backside and scrambling backward across the dusty dais until I could get my breathing under control. A few minutes later, I pulled myself to my feet.

  This had been a mistake.

  I would just go back to camp and finish guarding everyone and pretend this never happened. I could be dreaming, anyway. After all, I was very tired, and I hadn't slept.

  I scrambled up, dusting myself off, and carefully maneuvered around the door. The key thing was to stay as far away from that flaming door as possible. If I just watched my step and stayed far away, then ... that's right. Just like that!

  Only heroes messed with magical doorways, and I was no hero.

  I eased my way around the dais, almost sneaking as I carefully took each stair to the ground. I didn't breathe again until I had squeezed through the crack in the rock and back to the night beyond.

  I leaned against the rock, closing my eyes for a moment. No real harm done. My sleeves covered those silver markings, and who knew, maybe they would wash off later. Or maybe they were just my imagination or a trick of the eyes.

  I started to climb back up the hill toward camp when a cracking sound arrested me.

  I froze.

  What was that?

  After a moment, when nothing else happened, I started to climb again.

  The moon hadn't moved, and the air was still cold. I couldn't have been gone from camp for long. I was just jumpy and nervous after my close brush with disaster.

  But now worry gnawed at me. I was supposed to be standing guard over my friends and I’d wandered off.

  But guard against what? There hadn't been anything there to worry about. The Magikas were far away and the fires - even if they had grown - would still be hours away.

  There was nothing to worry about.

  A scream pierced the night.

  Was that Zyla? I increased my pace, tripping over a log and catching myself at the last second. My dagger was in my belt – I was smarter this time about remembering to carry it. But what good did that do in the dark and so far from whatever was happening?

  A second scream made me leap forward, running up the hill now, ignoring the scratching and clawing of the rough bushes and shrubs. What was happening?

  Where are you?

  Saboraak! Uh oh. She was supposed to be sleeping.

  You were supposed to be standing watch!

  Well, I had been standing watch until I got too bored. What was happening up there?

  I rounded a rock and gasped.

  Small fires ringed my friends, as if someone had lit the nearby bushes into fiery torches. Saboraak squatted low on the ground, neck extended and at that moment, I noticed the dark shadows in the bushes. She flamed wildly, her head swaying back and forth as her fire surged toward the shadows. Beside her, Bataar crouched as if he was waiting to fight, too. Where were the girls?

  Who are these people?

  How should I know who they are?

  I woke up to the attack. They were already here!

  There was a shuffle in the bushes beside me and then a blast of green light lanced toward my friends. The light of the burst lit the face of a man who fired it. He was standing only one rock over from where I crouched. He held out a metal device about the size of my palm, shaped like a metal spider, its legs reaching outward. His hand fit into the spider, like it was made to be held that way.

  He was focused on my friends. He didn’t know I was here ...

  We’re surrounded and they’re closing in.

  They were completely distracted by Saboraak ...

  Hurry!

  I was sick of them turning these weird devices on us. I was sick of not knowing what they were or how they did what they did. I slid slowly towards him, clinging to the shadows as orange and green flames danced in front of us. No one knew I was here ...

  There’s no more time!

  The figures in the shadows were closing in on Saboraak. I watched as a bolt of lightning burst from the perimeter and struck Bataar’s leg. He slumped to the side, but Zyla reached down from Saboraak’s saddle, grabbing his hand and yanking him back upright. She was trying to pull him up the side of the drag
on.

  No sudden moves, Tor. Ease your way along. I was so close ...

  A twig snapped, and my quarry spun, raising the spider-device, his eyes widening in the flickering orange and green light.

  I leapt forward with all the speed of my youth and fearlessness, grabbing the spider with both hands and twisting as I rolled to the side. I heard a cracking sound and a yelp, but in the dark it was hard to see clearly.

  We were both on the ground, rolling over dirt and rock. I pulled my arms down. Raised a foot. Found his wrist. Shoved it as hard as I could with my foot while I pulled with my hands. For a moment we were motionless as muscle fought muscle and then his grip broke and I tumbled away, spider in hand.

  Success!

  If you make me wait five more seconds, I am leaving without you! One.

  I scrambled to my feet, running almost before I was upright.

  Two.

  I saw a burst of lighting arching toward me and leapt over it, feet barely gaining enough height to dodge the bolt.

  Shouts filled the air and with them came the snapping, sizzling feeling of lightning all around me.

  Three.

  I leapt over a slumped body on the ground. How did that get there?

  Four.

  Dodged a green fireball. I’m telling you, those things are useless!

  Five.

  I’m here!

  My hand smacked her side playfully as I threw a foot into the stirrup. Bataar was slumped between Zin and Zyla, his head lolling to one side, but they were all strapped in.

  We were in the air before I was the rest of the way on Saboraak’s back, gaining height as I hung from one stirrup.

  Serves you right for wasting time and getting Bataar hurt.

  She was getting better at these four-person launches.

  I told you there was a trick to them.

  Uh oh.

  What?

  Was there another dragon out there?

  Chapter Seven

  I don’t sense anyone...

  Well, something was moving in the sky and it wasn’t the fireball that Saboraak just dodged.

  I didn’t dodge it well. It hit my foot.

  It’s surprising they hit anything at all. Those things are terribly inaccurate.

  It hurt! You can be flippant about it when it’s your foot!

  Look! There it was again, something rising in the sky.

  “Do you see that?” Zyla called down to me.

  “It’s not a dragon,” I called back. “I don’t know what it is.”

  Now that we were gaining height, I could see that the flames had spread. The forest fire was working its way toward us, leaping from one clump of bushes to the next. It would be here by morning.

  Magikas combed the foothill we had camped on waiting to launch inaccurate bursts of magic on anything that moved.

  I think they were camped on the other side of the hill. They were there all along. I’m surprised you didn’t notice them sooner. You were keeping watch, right?

  Was my face flushing? It felt hot suddenly.

  “That’s a rug!” Zyla called down. “Are those Magikas sitting on it?”

  Impossible! Rugs didn’t fly!

  It is a rug. And there are two more. I don’t know how fast those things are, but I’m slow with you four on my back.

  “They’re blocking our route northwest!” Zyla called. “Can your dragon outmaneuver them?”

  The nearest carpet crackled with light and then the Magika at the front of it – was that the front? – lifted his hands and lightning shot toward us. Saboraak shuddered.

  That hurt!

  Quick! Fly down the hill from our camp until you see a cluster of rock with a bunch of deadfall at the center.

  What? That’s heading towards danger! I won’t do it. I’ve never been hurt so many times as since I met you. I need to stay with the Whites for a month!

  Listen to me! I have a plan!

  Your plans always involve ridiculous risks!

  My arm was getting sore holding the strap and dangling from the stirrup and her last dodge had left me flapping in the wind in a way I didn’t even like to think of. Worse, that Magika was lifting his lightning-hands again. How could I get Saborak to trust me?

  Ask!

  Trust me!

  I felt her mental sigh.

  Where are these rocks?

  A second flash of lightning crackled toward us and Saboraak swung wildly. I couldn’t prevent a very unmanly screech as the stirrup swung outward and my grip slid a hand’s width down the strap I was clutching.

  Skies and stars! I can do the flying, but I can’t hold on for you, too. Take some responsibility – for your own life, if nothing else!

  Demanding, arrogant, self-righteous dragon!

  Silly boy!

  There it was! I could see the heaps of deadwood below me. I wouldn’t be able to get a dragon into the crack in the rock, but if she burned through that wood ...

  She was flaming before I explained my idea, her steady stream of yellow-hot flame ripping through fallen logs, rotting branches, and dead leaves. After a moment, the netting below gave way and the deadfall dropped in a free-fall of burning wood, popping sparks, and wet debris.

  Follow it down!

  Saboraak dove and I gritted my teeth as the stirrup followed her movements. It felt like I was falling, too.

  You sent me down a dead end!

  Go through the door!

  “What is this place?” Zyla asked from up in the saddle. She had her hands full keeping Bataar and Zin safely in place. As usual, Zin didn’t seem to even know where she was. And Zyla had to push and pull her and the unconscious Bataar back into place every time Saboraak moved.

  We needed to find a place to get these two some help before they dragged us down so far we never recovered.

  Lightning hit the rock wall beside us as Saboraak made a wobbling landing on the edge of the dais. I glanced upward and fought the instinct to duck as I saw three rectangles blocking the bright moonlight above. How many of those carpets did they have?

  “We’re getting out!” I called to Zyla. “Hold on tight!”

  Trapped!

  Just go through the flaming arch!

  It’s not flaming. It’s made of stone.

  Flaming is a curse word you dense, flaming dragon!

  I think your language gets worse under stress. And for the record, I object to your choice of curse. I ‘flame’ things and you benefit from that.

  Just go through the door!

  The rectangles were getting bigger as they descended, lighting crackling down from them and striking the dais around us. If she didn’t hurry, we were going to get hit any time now...

  It’s going to be tight! Hang on!

  Saboraak crept forward and I tried not to gasp as her head and shoulders disappeared. Zyla made a strangled sound in her throat but her expression was determined. She forced Zin and Bataar’s heads down, so they wouldn’t hit the top of the door.

  I finally did gasp as they went through into oblivion and then I moaned as the doorframe scraped across my back. Agh! I was going to come loose! I redoubled my grip, pressing my face into Saboraak’s side and hoping we could squeeze through. The breath was knocked out of me and I felt as though I was being wrung of every drop of blood and then burning pain washed over me followed by an icy burst of wind.

  We were through!

  Almost.

  Pain struck my heel and I reeled from it, my body temporarily frozen and my grip on the leather strap loosening for just a second. A second was too much.

  I fell away from Saboraak’s side.

  Chapter Eight

  I was yanked back – suddenly – by my cloak around my throat. I fought for a strangled breath as my hand fumbled for the strap again. There! I grabbed it with both hands and the pressure on my throat eased.

  “Almost lost you there,” Zyla said from above me. Her face was pale. She must have amazing reflexes to have caught me so quickly.


  Saboraak spun and dove suddenly, her neck arching around and her jaws snapping at something below us.

  Do you still want this spidery thing?

  Yes! Wait – why didn’t you grab me when I was falling?

  Zyla is a very capable woman. She didn’t need my help.

  My heel was throbbing painfully. I had a bad feeling that the burn was severe.

  Don’t be a baby. You didn’t let me whine about my burnt foot.

  Skies and stars, it flaming hurt!

  Language!

  I looked down, trying to distract myself, and then immediately regretted it.

  Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh.

  We were very high up.

  Maybe my shortness of breath wasn’t just from being strangled by my own cloak. Icy air bit into every inch of my skin from hair to that flaming heel.

  I give up. Just remember. Words shape us. The ones we use shape the way we see the world and what we value and those things shape our very souls.

  It was just a word. A useful word for channeling anger and frustration.

  And your soul is just your soul. But it’s the only one you get. Guard it well.

  Beneath us – far beneath us – white plains lapped at the edge of the mountains and a hazy blue and white horizon drifted off to the wide expanse beyond. But up here we flew between the peaks of a delicate crown of mountains. There must be a hundred peaks – their tops craggy and white with snow. The nearest three seemed to be smoking. I squinted at them through light-blinded eyes. The rising sun glittered diamond-bright off the white-crusted shards of mountaintop.

  “Legendary Ko’Koren,” Zyla breathed from above me.

  “I thought we were going to Ko’Loska,” I said. But none of us had bargained for that arch, had we?

  “We were,” Zyla agreed. “But this is even better. I know someone here who will hide us and send word to Hubric on our behalf. The further we penetrate into the depths of Ko’Torenth, the better, and it will be easier to hide a dragon here. Ko’Koren is the heart of Ko’Torenth culture, a city known for arts and trade. There will be visiting Dominion dragons here, sentries from Baojang, oosquer of the Kav’ai and adelini of the Westlands. Saboraak can hide among them.”