THE DRAGON'S TOWER

by Andy Skuse

Part 2

As the heavy wooden door closed, Kajagua felt the darkness grip him like a
tight-fitting glove. He moved instinctively to stand with his back against
the rough stone wall of the chamber, then held his breath to listen. The
silence was oddly complete. From his brief assessment of the tower's
construction from the outside, the walls had appeared to be made of cut
stone, as was the fashion for this region, and he had glimpsed many small
gaps between the stones that should be creating a chorus of low whistles as
the wind passed through them. But considering that he had seen the dragon
use sorcery to open the door moments ago, Kajagua thought it would be wise
to adjust any future observations to include the possibility of illusion.

He stood with his back to the cool stone for a few minutes longer, hoping
that his vision would adjust to the darkness. As he waited, he reached down
with his right hand to where a small leather pouch hung at his waist. Being
of a poor but resourceful people, neither gold nor silver were contained
within. Instead, the well-worn pouch held several small items that had
served him in the course of his journey so far; a few small chips of flint,
a handful of pebbles and a sling to hunt small game, a short length of
thick fiber rope, too short for climbing but long enough to keep his meals
out of reach of any animals that wandered through his camp at night, a
small knife, of little use other than as a eating utensil, and a small
waterskin, half filled with fresh water.

Where he came from, the use of weapons by the common was outlawed by the
noble class, but as his father before him, he had learned to use his fists
and feet to defend himself against whoever and *whatever* might attack him.
But as his eyes finally began to adjust to the dark, the magic of the tower
swept over him, and suddenly he felt that his fists and his feet might not
be enough...


Like a dream, that moves fluidly between logic and the impossible, the
darkness was suddenly gone, replaced with blinding sunlight. Kajagua
quickly raised his arm to cover his burning eyes, while his ears fought to
overcome the cacophony of the unseen world around him.

He could hear song-birds quite clearly, as they spoke in strange melodic
exchanges from nearby trees that whispered a discordant harmony as the wind
passed through their leaf-laden branches. Tall field grass swished in the
breezes about his shaking legs, conspiring with the whispering trees to
form words... "You are the first... and you are the last... my blood and
the wind... show you the past..."

As the strange words faded from his ears, he felt the warmth of the sun as
it continued to bake on his raised arm. A moment later he heard the
unmistakable roar of a dragon in the distance.

Kajagua dropped his arm quickly to find that his sight had already
returned. The landscape around him was nothing like the desolate tundra
world he had left behind. Lush valleys, grass-capped rolling hills, and
thick green forests stretched as far as he could see, beckoning to him to
explore their newness and purity. The sky was a deep royal blue that
reminded him of the river Katra, of days gone past, spent gazing into the
liquid glass at his reflection and wondering where the flowing water ended
up. The cool blue was dotted by puffy white clouds that drifted slowly
toward the eastern horizon, ghost ships with ragged sails upon an inverted
sea. And high overhead, a sun so bright that it left spots in his eyes if
he tried to look at it.

Another roar, this time from behind and maybe a few hundred yards away,
woke the boy from his wonderous reverie. He turned just in time to see the
dark interior of a huge forest of ancient Oaks suddenly part with a
thunderous crash that shook the ground, as an enormous shape forced its way
into the clearing. A huge dragon, much larger than the one that he had
spoken with on the cliff, scrambled towards him clumsily on its hind legs
and wing tips, while huge splinters of wood that had once been towering
trees were tossed aside like twigs and crushed under serpentine claws.
Kajagua froze with fear as he stared into the narrowed eyes of the dragon,
unable to run or cry out. The beast opened its enormous jaws, exposing rows
of sharp white teeth, and roared again, the sound of which was deafening
from this proximity.

Kajagua looked straight ahead, unable to make his legs move and unable to
close his eyes. He could see, hear, and feel the dragon coming at him, the
ragged breathing, the ground shaking with powerful thumps, the sharp claws
tearing at the earth. The beast was only a few feet away when his eyes shut
against his will as his instinct anticipated the impact. But as he held his
arms tightly against his chest, he could hear the thumping and the roaring
pass him by and continue behind him. The boy slowly opened his eyes in
stunned disbelief, and the reason for his escape quickly became clear.

A small band of fur-clad hunters emerged from the splintered remains of the
dark forest, running full tilt on muscular legs toward him, eventually
passing by him without so much as a grunt, so intent were they on their
prey. Kajagua quickly turned back to the view of the lush valleys and
rolling hills to see the dragon scrambling forward on tattered wings and
blood-stained limbs. He watched, mortified, as the beast suddenly turned on
its pursuers and unleashed a gout of flame from its curved jaws. Most of
the hunters had anticipated this tactic and managed to leap out of the way,
but a few who were not so fleet of foot were consumed by the orange wall,
their screams of agony echoing across the clearing. As Kajagua continued to
watch the battle, the hunters eventually overtook the crippled beast, and
fell upon it with sharp axes and long blades. He turned away and closed his
eyes tightly, as the dragon's last stand, and its bloody demise, tore into
his mind and etched themselves in his memory.

The dragon's cold blood stained the earth red, and the boy's fond memories
of gazing into the river Katra were suddenly far from his mind.

"NO!� no�


When he opened his eyes, Kajagua was surrounded by darkness once again, the
circular stone room at the tower's base now revealing the inanimate
silhouettes of a table and chairs, and nothing else. He breathed out loudly
with relief, piercing the silence so markedly that it made him think back
to the sound of the dragon's dying breath. Long and loud, a hissing sound,
like the sound of the tall grass... swishing about his legs in the strong
breezes atop the cliff. And the distinct animal cry of pain... the pain of
old bones and an older heart finally finding peace after hundreds of years
of unrest.

The stillness of the room suddenly woke him from his dark thoughts to face
the reality of the place he was in now. Somewhere above him was a princess,
scared and perhaps barely clinging to hope; a crystal point of clarity and
reason in a world that was growing more confusing by the second. Kajagua
swept back the loose strands of black hair that shrouded his narrowed eyes,
and wiped the sweat away from his brow. He must never forget his destiny,
he told himself, visions or not.

Moving slowly, and being careful not to touch anything, the boy began to
feel his way around the chamber, searching for the stairs that led up to
the next level. Several times his hands came back from the wall covered in
cobwebs and dust, signs of a room that had not been disturbed for a long
time. After a few more cautious steps, his hands came to rest on a worn
wooden railing. With one last look back over his shoulder into the gloom,
he climbed the creaking wooden steps up into an eerie darkness, pierced by
needles of warm yellow light coming from a lamp in the room above.

The last step was only a few feet from the ceiling, where Kajagua felt sure
he would find a trap door. Trembling fingers searched in vain along the
ceiling for any crack or crevice that might give away the entrance to the
lamplit room above him. Finally, in frustration, the boy heaved with all of
his strength on the section of ceiling above, but the rough stone surface
would not give way. He sat on the steps, dejected and sweating from the
effort, when suddenly he heard a tiny 'click'.

The ceiling slowly opened up�

The warm yellow lamplight spilled down into the stairwell, casting his
shadow on the walls of the circular room below him. Kajagua looked away
briefly, then looked back, having caught something in the corner of his eye
that just did not look right.

His shadow moved.

Not the usual flickering movement that puts weary travelers to sleep in
hearth-warmed candle-lit inns, but a sinuous movement, like that of a snake.

Kajagua did not sit on the top stair long enough to see if it had fangs.

End Part 2


Andy Skuse

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