Rolling out of the beasts’ mouth, Sharp stood up and quickly hid the tooth away and dusted himself off.
“Whoo!” he cried out excitedly as he jumped to his feet and ran his fingers through his scraggly hair.
“Who’s next?” he said with a grin.
The leader of the skinder clan pointed at him and screamed at the top of his lungs:
“GET HIM!”
Within moments, the skinder was surrounded by others, unable to plot a route through the bulk of the group. They closed in on Sharp and tied the skinders arms together.
“Bring him to me.” The leader said.
They brought Sharp over to the leader and shoved him down on the ground next to the dwarves. Sharp started to giggle for no reason, prompting the dwarves to look over at him for the first time since being brought out into the open.
“What are you laughing at, you fool?” the clan leader spoke indignantly toward the skinder.
Sharp did not answer; instead, he only continued to chuckle until his giggles had turned into full on hysterics. Fogrolir and Earmeth were completely baffled as they certainly saw nothing that was of a laughing nature.
“He has gone mad, hasn’t he?” Fogrolir said with an incredulous look on his face.
“I am not quite sure he was ever entirely sane,” Earmeth replied.
The clan leader stepped past the two dwarves and got within inches of Sharp’s face:
“Why…Are…You…Laughing!” his face, crimson red with anger, shook as he clenched his fists to keep from punching the skinder.
“Oh man…Ha! Ha!” he continued laughing as he doubled over and grabbed his stomach:
“You should have…Ha! Ha! You should have seen the look on your face when…Ha! Ha! When I hopped out of his mouth!” he kept laughing, and this caused a few of the other skinder to chuckle involuntarily.
“I see,” the leader said as he looked about, throwing glares at his men to silence their chuckles. He smacked his lips together a couple of times and turned around as though he were going to leave; he paused for a moment:
“I am going to thoroughly enjoy this.” He smiled at the two dwarves and motioned to one of his men. He walked off into the forest, and moments later returned, pushing a dwarf, his arms tied in front of him.
The dwarf, a bit fatter than Earmeth, was dressed as though he were a warrior, though Earmeth could not make out any distinguishing marks or garments that would show who the dwarf’s allegiance was to.
“Who is that?” Fogrolir inquired.
Earmeth shrugged his shoulders as the two were prodded to stand on their feet.
“No idea. Probably a mercenary of some sort or another.”
The guard held in his hands a staff – rather sharp from what the onlookers could tell – and he used it to prod the dwarf into the clearing; he did not stop until the dwarf stood side-by-side with Fogrolir and Earmeth.
The dwarf’s hair was long and matted together as though he had not bathed in weeks. The stench coming from his direction all but affirmed that indeed, he had not washed in quite some time. He stood heavily on his right leg as though his left were injured. He sniffed a couple times, quite profoundly, and then spit at the clan leader.
“Bad choices, you are making, indeed.” The clan leader said.
He looked about at the four men and shook his head in disdain. He began pacing back and forth in front of the group as though he were a caged animal, just waiting for the right moment to strike.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked, seemingly to no one as he strutted back and forth. He stopped and made clicking noises with his tongue, as though he were calling a dog.
“I am the leader of this group of Skinder, but more importantly, I am the right-hand of the goddess. Everything she can do, I can do as well to some degree. Everything, that is, except live forever.”
He stopped in front of the men, and bounced on his toes a little, stretching his short, stubby legs. The little beast enjoyed the fact that he, a skinder, smaller than the smallest of dwarves, was in full control.
“Do you know what kind of power the goddess gave me while she was here?”
“I am going to venture a guess that the answer is no, seeing that they” Sharp pointed toward the three dwarves, “were not on the island and have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Shut up, Sharp!” he snapped at the small man. “She gave me abilities that will make you tremble; powers that you cannot fathom. Yet, if I do not get answers that are satisfactory to my soul, you will have the very distinct pleasure of seeing such powers displayed first hand – right before you die.”
He stood still for a moment as he looked the men over and tried to plot in his own mind the best course to ascertain the information he sought.
“So then,” he clasped his hands together and smiled, “who wishes to tell me where our goddess is being held captive, hmm? Anyone? Anyone at all?” he motioned with his hand out. He moved it from left to right and back again as if he was playing a game and was unsure which participant would inevitably go first.
“You!” he pointed at Fogrolir. The moment his finger settled in the direction of the dwarf, it caused him to jump. Fogrolir was scared and had no idea what was about to happen.
“You are the youngest person here. I can sense it in my bones. Young people just love,” he feigned sarcastically, “to tell the truth, so they do not get into trouble. So how about you go ahead and tell me the truth, so I do not have to kill you.” His smile was wicked as he stared at the young dwarf. He knew the kid was scared and he loved feeding off the fear of the young dwarf.
“Umm,” Fogrolir began, “what exactly is it that you wish to know?” he inquired. His legs felt like rubber as they shook.
“I do not wish anything, child.” The skinder said as he marched a couple of feet closer to the dwarf and stared up at him. “I demand to know where our goddess is being held captive.”
Fogrolir glanced from one side to the other, unsure what to say. He had no idea who the goddess was or where she could be. Always the logical one, however, he answered the question with a question of his own:
“If you are connected to her, why don’t you just use the power you share to find her?”
Earmeth, along with Sharp and the rogue dwarf standing next to them, began to snicker. Not a one of them thought of asking such a question – for it was so simple that they overlooked it. It was evident that it angered the leader of the skinder clan, for his eyes burned fiercely and his face showed nothing but malice and malcontent.
“Do you not think I have tried to reach out to her in such a manner?” he screamed. Spit spewed forth with each word as he continued to berate the small dwarf:
“Her power is being blocked by something or someone. Our attempts to reach her go without results and that can mean only one thing – she is being held captive somewhere. Her power is being thwarted, and I intend to find out by whom or what!”
Fogrolir was confused, and as he shook his head, forgetting for the moment the danger the men were in, he could not help but ponder more questions.
“What is it?” the skinder asked. “Are you getting a message? Is there something trying to communicate with you? Tell me why you have such a bewildered expression on your face!”
Fogrolir did not look at the skinder leader, but instead turned to Earmeth:
“I thought gods and goddesses were all powerful? How can someone stop a god from using his or her power?” He looked at Earmeth, waiting for a response. Earmeth could no longer contain himself and began to laugh aloud.
“You shut your mouth!” the leader screamed to no avail. Earmeth continued to laugh, unable to fathom how a child asked questions that no one could answer.
“Where is she? Where are you hiding her? We know she went to a land of elves, and from there she was going to the land of dwarves! Elves are friendly, unlike your kind, so she must have gone missing once she reached your territory.”
Sharp lowered his head and
sighed; he knew the leader of this group would not stop until he got an answer. He raised his head and looked directly at the skinder; before any of the others had recovered from the onslaught of questions, Sharp began speaking:
“Do you know why you cannot find her, Metakon?” he said. “You cannot find her because you are full of crap! You have no power! You are just a tyrant with a better knowledge of magical uses and device making than those around you. You say this goddess gave you powers that will make us tremble. Well then, let us see these remarkable skills! I say she is a fraud, and you are a blubbering fool!”
The skinder leader, which the men now knew was named Metakon, got nose to nose with Sharp, his entire body shaking with the rage building up inside him.
“I shall show you my power, and you will all die!”
He turned to rogue dwarf and looked him over:
“Tell me, it is true that only a dragon’s rider can give her commands, yes?”
The dwarf stared at Metakon for a few seconds before responding with a simple nod of affirmation.
“Well,” he began, “shall we see just how well she obeys her master?” he clasped his hands together and smiled as he ran his tongue across the top row of his teeth. “If your dragon listens to you and does as you command, I shall set you free. If she does not obey your commands as her master, however, you will die here tonight.”
The dwarf’s face showed a very broad grin; for he had never had any doubt his beast would listen to him and not another soul in the world. His dragon had been his companion for well over fifty years, and they were inseparable, though in the back of his mind a scary thought lingered.
“Is there any particular command you would ask of me to give to my beast?” his brooding voice was slow but steady as if each word he spoke was carefully planned.
“Tell the foul, wretched creature whatever you wish. It matters not to me, you fool.” Metakon’s arrogance began to show in full display of all the clansmen.
“Let loose his dragon!” he called out loudly.
Seconds passed by, though it felt like an eternity to the men, and then the three heard it: the sounds of dragon wings as they pushed against the air. Moments later, the treetops began to sway from the force of the wind as a black dragon game into the view. The beast, so dark, was almost impossible to see. The torches in the clearing of the woods reflected on the animal’s underbelly, giving a fair indication of just how large this creature really was. She stretched out her wings, covering almost the entire opening of the forest from one side to the other in the circle, and landed her back feet upon the earth. Seconds later, her front legs found the surface in front of her owner as her claws dug deeply into the ground.
“Hello there, girl,” the dwarf said as he reached out and touched his beast on the underside of her chin. The top of her head was covered with a proper helmet, with large steel spiked horns adorning it, and sharp metal fangs ran along the front and sides, mimicking where the dragon’s top row of teeth would be if the beast opened its mouth. The helmet made the beast appear to be even more intimidating than she already was.
Its eyes seemed to be black in the darkness under the metal protective head plate, with only the whites of the eyes clearly visible. The beast showed a reverent love for her rider, and as he scratched under her chin, she began to make a sound that was akin to a growl, but lower in tone and much more affectionate. The dwarf smiled at his beast and wrapped his arms about her snout, hugging her tightly.
“I am going to die tonight, old girl.” He said in a whisper so low that no one but the beast heard him. “I do not know what this vile creature they call a skinder has in store for me, but I know he would not dare me to command you to do something unless he knew he could stop it from happening.”
He continued to hug his beast for a moment more, and ran his hand along the side of her face:
“I love you, old girl. No matter what is about to happen, I know you are not the cause of all this.”
He stepped back and looked at his steed for what he felt would be the very last time, and with deep sadness in his eyes, he turned his attention to Metakon:
“Alright old girl, how about one last great adventure, eh?” he pointed the clansman, “kill him,” he said without raising his voice.
The dragon turned her attention to Metakon and began moving toward him in a slow, purposeful stride, stalking her prey as she would any other beast. Metakon did not flinch; he stood there with his hands clasped in front of him, waiting for the dragon’s final attack to come.
As she neared the skinder, she lowered her neck and head almost all the way to the ground, and in one quick motion darted forward to kill the little man.
“Stop!” he said. His hand raised and he stared the beast eye to eye. The dragon, to everyone’s bewilderment, stopped in her tracks as if she were no longer in control of her own actions.
“He is not your master anymore,” Metakon said as he reached out and touched the steel covering on the dragon. He stepped backward and turned his back to the beast, and started to walk across the open area as if he was going to lead the dragon into the forest. The dragon sat for a moment and did nothing; she did not move – she did not make a sound. At last, Metakon called out to her, bidding her come unto him. She followed his order.
“Sharp,” Earmeth said. “What have you done by opening your mouth this time?” his voice was not harsh or even accusatory, but held the countenance of a statement muttered under his breath. Sharp had a very queer look on his face; a look that Earmeth concluded was the skinder showing how unimpressed he was with this charade.
“Eh,” Sharp said as he shrugged his shoulders, “I wanted to see if he was telling the truth is all; oh, and I was bored and tired of listening to him prattle.” He looked very matter-of-factly at Earmeth; his gaze was returned with a look of incredulous confusion.
“You questioned his ability to wield magic given to him by a supposed goddess because of your boredom?” he asked.
“Also, because I was tired of listening to him prattle. You should pay attention, dwarf, as I have already answered your question.”
Earmeth did not know what to say to Sharp for the moment, and so he just stared at the ground as he pondered all the reasons why he should have never left the shores of the island. His thoughts were interrupted by Sharp speaking once more:
“I do have one suggestion that may be of use to all of us right now, however.” Sharp looked around him at all the men.
“Yeah, what is that?” the rogue dwarf asked.
“I suggest we run, and that we do it now,” Sharp replied.
“Why?” Earmeth inquired.
“Well, for starters, that beast is now heading toward us at full speed, and I do believe she aims to kill us all.” He smiled at the men for a split second:
“Run!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.
Jolted back to reality, the men ran toward the forest but were cut off by a group of cyclopses. Fogrolir fell behind, as he could not take his eyes off the dragon. He tripped over a small stick and fell. As he scrambled to get back to his feet, the dragon closed the distance and was on him in a flash.
“No!” Fogrolir screamed. Terror filled his face as he shielded his eyes with one hand stuck the other as if to stop the beast’s advancement. The others turned and looked on in horror as the dragon opened her mouth to snag the dwarf up and swallow him whole. It never happened, however, for as soon as her chin made contact with Fogrolir’s hand, she stopped.
The dragon shook her head in confusion as Metakon repeatedly yelled for her to follow his orders. It was evident that she was conflicted and fighting to regain control over her own mind.
“What shall I do?” the dragon spoke without moving her lips, but Fogrolir heard her clearly.
Fogrolir unshielded his face and looked at the beast looming over him; her eyes showed fear and courage at the same time:
“Help us,” Fogrolir said as tears began to run down his face. “Just please help us
.”
The dragon wasted no time. She spun around and lunged at the skinder clansmen, swiping her claws and knocking bodies everywhere. Metakon grabbed both sides of his head and screamed as he realized something was overwhelming the power he possessed. The dragon continued marching forward, her tail cut the air around her as it whipped about, knocking down anything in sight. She knew there was nothing the skinder clan could do to harm her, though she feared the cyclopses, for they could kill dragons with relative ease. She hid the fear away as she continued to rip through their ranks until at last, she heard a familiar voice call out into the night.
“Get us out of here, girl!” the voice of her master rang out through all the commotion in the encampment. She turned to face her master, but her vision became blurred. Her eyes saw a figure, but it was not her master, but rather Metakon. Her anger flared, and she charged once more, this time at her master, as her eyes deceived her due to Metakon’s magical skill.
‘If I cannot control her mind, I will control what she sees!’ he laughed hysterically to himself as the dragon bore down on its master and gashed him open with a slice of her arm. Her sharp talons dug into his hip, sending blood all about.
“Stop!” Fogrolir screamed at the beast. The dragon looked at him and once more began to shake her head. Her eyes saw one thing, but her heart told her another. She let out a cry of anguish; she realized it was the skinders magic, which caused her to attack her master.
“Quickly, climb aboard my saddle!” she demanded as she fell flat to the ground to allow the men to reach her harness. Her master managed to pull himself to his feet and with the help of the trio; he stumbled over to the beast and maneuvered into the harness. The others climbed into the saddle, and the dragon leaped from the ground. As she pulled herself higher into the sky, Sharp called out directions for her to move left or right as arrows, chains, rocks, and more flew by her body – cast from the cyclopses below.
“Get us…Get us out of here.” Her master stammered. He slumped forward and passed out from the pain of his wound. Earmeth grabbed the shoehorn on the saddle and held onto it with his good hand. His other arm held onto the rogue dwarf as the pain seared through it – a reminder of his injury. Sharp dug his fingers under the edge of the saddle and held on tightly, as Fogrolir grasped hold of Earmeth’s pants at the waist and refused to let go. The dragon reached further into the nighttime sky and once she was sure they were out of harm’s way she settled down and began to fly smoothly through the air.