Hoard

Stories

### Chapter 1: 1 I Think Ive Found The Flaw In Your Plan

The weeks of hiking through the desert and up the mountain almost seemed worth it in the moment he crested that great ridge and gazed down over paradise.

A vast valley spread out before him, green and cool. Forests were interrupted by meadows and the occasional cluster of distant smoke plumes that signified a village or small town, and even from this height the threads of roads were visible along with those of winding rivers. Stunning waterfalls fell from the surrounding peaks, one terminating in a crystalline lake at the base of a long ribbon of cliff. And this, he knew, was only this one valley. The entire rest of the continent was like this, all the way to the rocky northern coast: jagged peaks and ridges, interspersed with these forested vales in which idyllic little kingdoms huddled. Not large, prosperous or powerful kingdoms, due to the rocky terrain and scarce farmland—not to mention the dragon—but beautiful, and protected by their vast mountain walls.

It was also a much longer way down than he had come up. The vast plateau across which he had trekked was at a much higher elevation than the Evervales or his own homeland farther south. It was also less inhabited than either, being mostly desert, transitioning only into the relatively gentler savanna terrain this far north, where moisture in the air periodically crested these mountain ridges and drifted down.

Kaln just paused, breathing in and shamelessly admiring the view. It would be a sight worth seeing for anyone, even someone who hadn’t spent weeks trudging through parched flatland. Granted, he had benefited from the best possible guidance and his trip across the desert had been less arduous than it would have been for practically anyone else.

And now, after it all, here he was, almost at the end. The end of this damn fool adventure he should absolutely not be on, because nobody with a grain of sense in their head would be.

“Well,” he said aloud, voice scratchy from disuse and the dry air behind him, “I’m here.”

It really seemed like there should be some sort of invocation. Some ancient shadowy grimoire to open, or…a talisman, maybe? The kind with a mysteriously glowing gem. But no, all he had to do was…call. The call wasn’t always answered—which stood to reason, you couldn’t expect to have an enigmatic otherworldly being appear at your whim—but so far, every time the Entity had failed to answer him, Kaln had learned later there was good and specific reason, usually pertaining to keeping their relationship discreet. Actually, the uncanny thing had been a more reliable partner than several people with whom Kaln had worked in the Royal Archives.

At his extremely casual summons, it came.

His own shadow, already lengthened by the descending sun, stretched further, then spun in a complete revolution across the rocky ground, rotating like the hand of a clock. As if limbered by this exercise it finally detached completely, drifting across the ground unconnected to his feet. And then it separated from the ground itself, standing up.

“So you are!” the Entity replied with its customary good cheer. “And get a load of that vista! These are the moments, Kaln. You have to stop and smell the scenery while the iron is hot.”

Kaln studied th e Entity rather than the view , seeing nothing new, but it was familiar enough now that he was no longer thrown by the contrast between the creature’s eerie appearance and its peppy-bordering-on-silly demeanor. A shadow lifted off the ground was a translucent thing, so ephemeral he could easily have failed to notice it was there when he wasn’t looking right at it. In the ordinary course of things, the sun was never beaming directly on a shadow, much less straight through it.

“ But yeah, I get it,” the Entity continued when Kaln failed to respond. “ We haven’t come all this way and gone through all this trouble just to take in the sights. No stopping now, not when we’re almost at the end! Ooh, really almost, you brought us to exactly the right spot. Well done!”

“ You know the credit isn’t mine,” Kaln answered hoarsely , then cleared his throat twice and continued in a smoother tone. “ I’d never have made it across that desert alive if you hadn’t charted me a perfect course through oases and safe campsites. Makes sense your directions would end in the correct place, right?”

“Oh, you probably would’ve been okay. T he Hiiri are very hospitable to travelers, like I told you when you were so worried about that girl you met out there. But yes, I take your point. What matters is we’re here now! Last leg of the journey—the final step before all your hard work is rewarded! Are you as excited as I am, Kaln?”

“… mmmmmaybe? One some deep level, hidden under all the terror and fatigue and my general sense that I’m obviously a complete idiot for doing all this.”

“That’s the spirit!” The Entity ghosted right up to the sharp edge of the ridge and then over, extending one shadowy arm to point, and Kaln had to squint and focus to see it clearly in the vivid afternoon sunlight. “ Right down there you’ll see a staircase, carved into the mountainside. There, see? It’s half overgrown and there are place s where boulders have fallen on it, but the steps themselves are quite intact.”

“I see it,” Kaln said, peering below at the unmistakable shape of carved stairs ascending past them from a point hidden in the forest far below, only terminate against a jumble of rock below the peak rising up to their right. “That looks strangely…ominous. Stairs go somewhere. Why are these out in the middle of nowhere? Ruins wouldn’t be that intact, but structures that get used wouldn’t have overgrowth and rock all over them…”

“ Yeah, that’ll tend to happen if the stairs go someplace nobody wants to follow. You do remember where I told you this journey would lead, right?”

“Wait—those are stairs to the dragon’s lair? That’s…surprisingly convenient. Also I notice that they’re blocked by a rockfall.”

“Oh, yes, that little tumble took out a big chunk of the mountain’s face, changed the whole shape of the peak. But don’t worry! Once you climb that far, you’ll find a path through. Well, it’s more of a crevice, but it’s big enough for a person to squeeze past, and then you’re at your destination!”

“You mean we’re at our destination.”

“Ah, well.” It was hard to tell whether the shadow was turning around; the way its translucent shape shifted was reminiscent of someone moving to face him directly. “ That’s where the complicated part begins, Kaln old buddy.”

“I knew it.” Kaln folded his arms. “I knew this had to be leading somewhere lethally stupid.”

“Now, now, don’t be like that! You’ve read a story or two in your time—it was practically your job, wasn’t? The hero always confronts the final challenge alone.”

He almost didn’t know where to start objecting to that. “Life is not a story, I am definitely not any kind of hero, and is that really what you think a court scribe does all day?!”

“ Kaln, listen to me.” The Entity reached toward him, which was unnerving, but he forced himself not to shy back. The indistinct dimness in midair that was its arm—the arm of his own severed shadow, a reminder of why he refused to think too much about the implications of this—came to rest somewhere in the vicinity of his shoulder. It didn’t feel like anything, obviously, but the intent of the gesture was plain. “ You’re ready for this. Think of all we’ve been through so far. You’ve escaped your enemies in Rhivkabat, no less than the Regent Guard on your tail. You have delved into the haunted ruins of the Moon less Tower, navigated the troll nests beneath the bottomless bridges of Khvel Ravine, and bargained with a devil of the Ravening Host. In just half a year you’ve been on adventures the likes of which most people can scarcely imagine. After all that, what’s a measly little dragon? You can do this.”

Kaln tried to shove the hand away. That failed, obviously; he couldn’t touch the Entity and just succeeded in some minor but undignified flailing.

“ And I had you there to help me do all of that! Not to mention guiding me along all the journeys between them. Don’t try to butter me up, we both know I had zero chance of surviving any of those…incredibly foolhardy escapades without your help!”

“And what help did I offer you, specifically?” the Entity countered. “The gift of invisibility to get through the tower and past the trolls, yes. And don’t worry, that I will bestow on you before you go further. It’ll get you past the dragon, no sweat. But the rest, the lion’s share of it? Nothing but detailed instructions for what to do, where to go, what to say. I charted you an exact path through the Moonless Tower, and through the troll warrens, and gave you the exact words to strike your deal with the devil. And you followed all those instructions perfectly. I didn’t once have to step in and rescue you!”

“But…you could have,” Kaln protested. “You were there.”

“And this is why I did it that way, li’l buddy. Now we know you can do it without me looking over your shoulder. Just one more time, Kaln. Then, finally, it’s over—everything you’ve suffered will be vindicated, everything you’ve done rewarded after this one last adventure. You’ve proved you can do it! And seriously, don’t worry. After all we’ve been through together, surely you can’t think I’d send you to face a dragon alone!”

“Okay, that’s a relief, but how does that square with—oh.” It took him a moment, but remembering the way the Entity generally acted, Kaln suddenly had a terrible hunch. He squinted suspiciously at the shadow. “You’re just setting up a bit , aren’t you.”

“I’m sending you to face seven dragons!”

“Yep, I’m out.”

Kaln turned his back and took two steps down the slope toward the savanna below before the shadow managed to get back in front of him, holding out both vaguely formed arms in a warding gesture.

“All right, all right, sorry, I couldn’t resist. I truly am sincere, Kaln. Yes, there are seven dragons in that lair, and that is why I can’t come with you. Dragons are a whole other thing compared to trolls; any of them might happen to detect me if I approach their home, but one of those seven in particular definitely will. But the gift of intangible invisibility I will grant you will work on them, attached to a mere human without my distinctive… essence to grab their senses.”

“Seven dragons.” Kaln folded his arms again, glaring. “Seven! Why are you only telling me this now? Never mind, don’t answer, we both know why. Because I’d never have come this far if you’d been honest from the beginning!”

“Kaln,” the Entity said in a more soothing tone, hands still upheld. “ Come on. Remember, you’ve come this far on the strength of my advanced knowledge and your court-trained ability to follow complex directions exactly. This is just more of the same! Remember what we rehearsed. What are you looking for, in there?”

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“This is ridiculous.”

“Come on, Kaln.” The Entity shifted one hand as if to place it under his chin, and he instinctively jerked his head away. “You know what to do, I know you remember. What are you looking for?”

Kaln glared at it, but grudgingly repeated the instructions it had already drilled into him. “A Timekeeper artifact, resembling an archway made of grandfather clocks.”

“Where is this artifact?”

“You mean, where in the lair of the seven bloody dragons?”

“Yes. Specifically.”

He sighed. “It’s in the cavern straight across from the entrance. Up the steps and through the f arthe st door.”

“ And what are you going to do with this artifact?”

It was like a compulsion, at this point in his young life. The Entity hadn’t been wrong that his upbringing and training in the Royal Archives left him powerfully inclined to listen closely, absorb details instantly, and be able to not only parrot them back but follow precise and complex instructions after being told once.

“ Set all six clock faces to midnight, pull the hands till they point straight outward from the faces, then replace whatever is in the compartment in the arch’s capstone with the shadow crystal , and finally step through the gate.”

Just because he instinctively repeated directions on which he’d been trained didn’t mean he planned to go through with this absurd scheme, necessarily. Having satisfied that compulsion, he quickly continued before the Entity could chime in again.

“ But! That still doesn’t mean I’m willing to face down seven dragons for this! And even still, to this day, you haven’t told me what that will do.”

“Everything, Kaln,” the Entity said in a breathlessly passionate tone. “Everything. This final step will grant you the power to enact retribution on all who have wronged you. Upon Lady Haktria and all her noble friends, on the Lord Scribe and whoever else in the Archives you judge worthy of comeuppance. Upon the Regent himself if you decide he deserves it. That’s the thing: you will be the one who decides. Make those who thought they could toy with the powerless understand what that feels like.”

Kaln was not stupid enough that he couldn’t recognize the raw appeal to emotion that deliberately avoided answering his actual question. But that appeal was powerful. The Entity skillfully brought it all back up—the betrayal, the humiliation and pain he’d suffered, the loss of love and everything he’d spent his life working toward, all at the whims of those who were arbitrarily allowed to call themselves his betters. The thought of settling that score… This inscrutable being was dangling bait in front of him, yes, but it was bait he craved.

“ But,” he managed, “…dragons.”

“ Fortunately there’s a trick to it!” the Entity said brightly. “Dragons are like prison: you just gotta kill the biggest one, and you’re home free.”

Kaln stared at it. “Kill. You want me to kill a dragon. And…the biggest one?!”

“Only the biggest one, mind you,” the Entity cautioned, holding up one shadowy finger in his face. “ That’s the part that’s unlike prison. Be very careful not to take out any of the smaller ones.”

“You know, somehow I don’t see that being a problem.”

“ Oh, it could add significantly to your problems, Kaln. Dragons are, by any reasonable definition, people. They love; they grieve. What they are not like is humans; their social groups aren’t based on mutual affection or reliance, but strict power h ierarchies. If you kill one of the young ones, at least one of the older females will go completely berserk, because that’s what mothers do. Trust me, you don’t wanna meet a dragon in mama bear mode.”

“That’s the single most sensible thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Kill one of the older females,” the Entity continued blithely, “and there’s not a certainty of backlash, but a serious risk of it. If she was on friendly terms with one of the other consorts, they may take offense, and the dominant male will definitely be irate about you destroying his property. Also the dragonets might get mad, depending on how old they are and how ready to fly off on their own anyway. If they’re young enough to still be somewhat dependent, well…that’s their m u m you just killed, see? Most folks get snippy about that.”

“Right, don’t murder people’s m u ms, that’s good advice for life. But not really going to be an issue since we’re talking specifically about killing dragons.”