Moonglade C7: Dragon Bones
BEN YAWNED AND STRETCHED, blinking groggily out at the twilight of dawn's first drizzly, blustery, slightly chilly stirrings from the top of the inn's steps. "Remind me again exactly why we're up before even the bloody birds?"
"For the worms, of course!" A very perky Jenna piped up. Clad in a cream linen vest as well as her cloak, her ears high and tail waving, she dangled a particularly large earthworm in front of her brother's nose.
Ben snapped it up; two chews, and it was gone. "Not bad. Still not a good enough reason to drag my tail out of the nest so early."
"Then what about adventure in the woodlands?" Kyra suggested; the elder vixen had tied a dark blue sash about her waist, to which a short length of curved wood was attached at her left hip, and her ears were flicking a touch restlessly.
Her son straightened up. "That's more like it." He shook himself with vigour, his cloak dancing. "Where's Mayla?"
Something small and solid rapped lightly on his back. He spun round to find the shrew, dressed in her black garb, smirking and holding up a studded iron mace with a leather-bound shaft.
"So_that's_ your new toy." Ben cocked his head. "Interesting choice."
Mayla rolled it round her wrist with no apparent effort, then hooked it on her belt. "It works fer me. We ready ta leave?"
"I believe so," Kyra confirmed; her offspring nodded. "Follow me."
She led the group briskly across the open area in the direction of the jetties, but turned right just before them, following a road that passed behind the fishery, then turned to approach the river and an aged and quite sizeable hump-back bridge that spanned it. Mayla paused at its highest point, taking in the river, the village and the forest, then gazed toward where Portbridge lay, and smiled softly.
Catching up with the others, she found them leaving the road, which ran steadily south-east, and cutting across rough grassland toward the trees. A small herd of horses were grazing nearby, one of which broke away to trot toward them, ears perked, tail high enough to curl over their back and nostrils flaring. Ben welcomed the rust-hued mare with a firm clasp around the neck and a kiss on the shining white blaze that covered most of their forehead; she nuzzled him back, nickering.
"Morning, Cops," he greeted, warmly, then his tone turned decidedly regretful. "I can't ride with you today, I'm afraid."
Equine ears drooped, and a plume of a tail slipped lower.
"But I will as soon as I can, all right?" he assured her, stroking a paw along her muzzle. "A good, long ride across the Graze."
Copper's ears rose again, and her tail lifted; she nickered, nibbled the fox's neck lightly, then trotted back to the herd; Ben watched her go, a hand absently smoothing the fur she'd rumpled.
"She'll hold you to that, you know," Kyra called back from some way ahead, with a sly smile.
"I know." Benjamin jogged to rejoin the others as the vixen led them past the tree line.
Less than twenty-five feet into the forest the light dwindled to almost nothing; Kyra fluidly wove a luminous spell in one paw then lobbed it into floating above her, illuminating quite an area around them. With calm assurance she led them through the thickening undergrowth to a thread of a dirt path that ran roughly parallel to the road.
The white vixen stopped then, her ears swivelling, her nose twitching and her eyes sweeping over the bracken, bushes and trees; the others followed her lead, but nothing stirred beyond the leaves and a pawful of birds beginning to waken.
Kyra relaxed. "Good; they haven't followed us."
"They?" Jenna and Ben chorused.
"Someone was listenin' back in Woodlea." Mayla explained, her ears still perked. "I could hear their shufflin' jes' round th' corner from us."
"It_might_ just have been a curious local, but I doubt it." Kyra started moving again, her pace brisk. "Now we're free to speak, I can tell you we'll be meeting the dragons in Moss Top; that's a Shaala community a tick or so from here, Mayla."
The shrew grinned. "Good choice. Stayed with th' lizards more than a few times in th' past. Really got ta like 'em."
"Perfect." Kyra nodded. "I think this is going to go rather well..."
The trip proved quiet and straightforward, and took a little less time than the white fox had thought, while the weather cleared up enough for subdued glimpses of sunshine to slip through the clouds and leaves every once in a while. It was thus a fairly upbeat group that reached the base of a fairly steep climb, but looking up it doused the collective mood in an instant.
Near the summit a bank surmounted by a palisade swept across the path, broken by a gate sealed by a barrier of pale, crackling magic. On top of a pile to the right a carved oaken head of a reptile, daubed in vivid greens and reds, stared fixedly at them, eyes of quartz filled with more energy that flared bright.
Kyra raised a paw to call a halt, then took a single step closer. A bolt of magic lanced toward her; she ducked out of its way, as did the rest, letting it flash between them to hit the path with a flare and a crack.
"Damn..." Mayla husked, as the four hastened back several feet. "Not a nice how'd ya do."
"The flicking adept," Kyra growled, tail twitching, eyes narrow. "They corrupted the lookout. Gonna be a pain to get past."
"Think it c'n hit two targets at once?" the shrew asked.
Kyra cocked her head. "Worth finding out. Come on."
The two females paced forward either side of the track, keeping as much space between them as possible, flanks brushing the bracken; a second bolt flashed for Kyra, the vixen only just twisting away from it, the sizzle singeing the fur of her upper arm.
"Doesn't seem ta like ya," Mayla noted, dryly, as they rejoined Jenna and Benjamin, chased by a third shot.
"It seems not." The white vulpine patted the burnt hair. "But at least we now have a plan. You and Ben keep it occupied, Jen and I'll sneak round behind it and try to deal with the spell. All right?"
"Right," the others chorused, though Ben didn't sound entirely sure.
"Go." Kyra pushed into the undergrowth, Jenna behind her, while the other fox and the shrew moved toward the lookout side-by-side.
This time the magical missile streaked at Ben, who scrambled to duck away, but it clipped his ear; he yelped and clapped a paw over it.
Mayla sidestepped the next one almost nonchalantly. "Gotta be a lot quicker'n that, mate."
"I'm trying me b-YI!" In flinching away from another shot the fox lost his balance and hit the ground on his tail. "Ow!" He scrambled back to his feet, cradling his brush and muttering. "Flickin' hurry up, Ma."
Mayla yanked him away from the third bolt. "Wake up, foxy, or you're a bushy-tailed corpse."
Ben gave himself a smart slap on the cheek, then dodged a shot with much more alacrity.
"Better!" the shrew approved. "Ya got some zip after all."
"Enough." The fox spun away from a bolt, flashing a grin. "I'm starting to think whoever wove that spell doesn't like foxes very much."
"Jes' maybe," Mayla concurred, sliding around a shot.
Ben tensed for another attack, but the lookout began to swivel to the left; panicked, he jumped forward and waved his arms; the head spun back and a flare of energy raced for his head; he twisted but it burned across his cheek, drawing out another yelp.
"Musta spotted 'em." Mayla advanced too, provoking the lookout to throw a shot her way; she leapt sideways to avoid it. "Don't give it any chance ta turn."
"Not about to." Mouth set in a determined line, one eye on the pair of white figures creeping out of the bushes just behind the carving, he bounded nearer to it, waving his arms again. A bolt seared toward his head; he dropped and bent backwards, watching as it flashed over his nose. "Too much at stake."
Kyra reached the back of the lookout, her paw stretching out, Jenna pressing close; it began to revolve again, eyes blazing, but near-manic gesturing from Ben and Mayla saw it return to them, flinging an attack at the latter. Once the older vixen's fingers made contact it was all the fox and shrew could do to keep the head's focus on them, practically dancing their way closer, arms high, Ben even hollering.
"I think I've got it!" Kyra eventually called out. "But you'd better get back now. It's not gonna go quietly."
Her son and Mayla hastened back a good ten feet as she skittered all her digits over the scalp of the lookout, then flung herself, pushing her daughter ahead of her, into the bracken. A glow engulfed the wooden head, intensifying rapidly, then it erupted in a roar of roiling magic so violent it shredded branches and rocked Ben and Mayla on their feet.
Before the shredded splinters had finished falling the fox was tearing up the rise. "Jen! Kyra!"
"We're fine!" his mother called back. He found her face down in the undergrowth, covering Jenna. "If a little deaf."
Ben helped them up, hugging them both and sharing nuzzles. "Thank Dama! I couldn't..."
Kyra shushed him with a gentle finger. "You won't." Then she slipped past him, regarding the barred gate intently. "Now, let's see if we can't deal with this little impediment..."
Whilst her son and daughter continued to hug, and Mayla kept watch on the path, she lifted a hand to the barrier, scrutinising it thoroughly for some moments.
"Bloody Knowe," she eventually muttered. "What kind of a pelt are we dealing with?"
"Nasty stuff, eh?" the shrew guessed.
"Very. So nasty it might actually be beyond me." Kyra sighed. "What I wouldn't give for a dragon right about now..."
"Might we suffice?" asked a low, throaty voice from right behind her.
All four pelts jumped and span, Mayla the most shocked, the shrew openly gaping and stammering at the two stocky, thickly-scaled, long and low - a few feet longer than Kyra was tall, and nearly half the fox's height - green-brown dragons now with them, their blunt, heavy-set faces studiously neutral, but tinged with a certain impish satisfaction.
"Where tha flick...?" Mayla rasped. "How'd ya get past me? I...I..."
"If we don't wish for you to detect us," the slightly larger dragon told her with a twist of a smile, "you won't."
Kyra sank to one knee, and bowed her head. "You honour us greatly with your presence, Sira-born."
Both stared quite intently at her, heads tilting almost imperceptibly, a subtle warmth stealing in to their expressions. The larger one's golden eyes even looked to be faintly glossy. He took a pace, bringing himself close enough to the older white fox to rest his chin on her scalp, neatly between her respectfully dipped ears.
"You honour us through your respect for ways largely forgotten," the dragon murmured. He eased back enough to nudge under Kyra's chin, coaxing her into looking at him. "But if we are to re-establish the ties of old, then it shall be as equals in every regard. Agreed?"
The white vixen's eyes grew distinctly glassy, and she nodded, smiling in a manner close to beatific. "Agreed."
"Excellent!" The dragon bobbed his head in satisfaction, then moved back to be level with his companion. "To that end, permit me to make proper introductions. Roluth and Barroth, at your disposal."
"Kyra," the elder fox responded. "With me are my son, Benjamin, my daughter Jenna, and trusted friend Mayla."
The dragons nodded polite acknowledgement to each; Roluth's gaze lingered on Jen, turning quite concerned.
The younger vixen was only taking fleeting glances at them, spending more time staring at the floor with her tail flat to her legs and her ears low to her skull, all the while twiddling her fingers.
"Now, why would you be so very apprehensive around us?" Roluth's brow crinkled, then softened in understanding. "Ah. You were one of those with our dear Mirianth but three days past."
"Y-yes," she mumbled, twiddling her tail-tip. "I hope we...um...didn't cross any boundaries. She was just so...wonderful..."
"That she most certainly is," Roluth agreed. "As well as just a smidgen disobedient. She was supposed to remain within the confines of Wing Ridge, but instead decided that absconding to the Hollow was a much more appealing course of action." His gaze dipped. "I fear I rather lost my composure as a result."
"Quite the understatement," Barroth interjected, his voice softer and possessed of a lightness that bordered on the fey. "You fair tore up the Ridge in your wrath. Restoring your reason was quite the effort."
"If it's not...impertinent," Jen ventured, "is it at all possible for Sable and I to meet her again?"
"I certainly wouldn't discount the possibility." Roluth nudged her still fidgeting paws. "She's spoken of little else since your encounter, and I may have been somewhat overzealous in my attempts to protect her."
"Just a tad," Barroth concurred, with a knowing smile.
Roluth lightly nipped at the smaller dragon. "No need to belabour the point, dear. Now, I believe we have some Shaala's to attend to..."
"Yes, we just need your help in rem..." Kyra had turned to the gate as she spoke, only to find the magical barrier gone. "Oh."
Ben, who'd been quietly watching thus far, barked out a hearty laugh, his tail lively. "Oh, I think I'm going to like these fine scaly fellows!"
"They're certainly somethin'," Mayla agreed, shaking her head.
"Barroth merely took the liberty of dispensing with that disagreeable little impediment as we conversed," Roluth explained. "Shall we...?"
"We shall." Kyra's demeanour sharpened, a keenly alert vixen stealing toward the gate and peering through. "Oh, sweet Sira..."
Within the enclosure, six modest wattle-and-daub roundhouses with roofs of woven heather were circled around the perimeter, whilst the central open area was anchored by a stout limestone pedestal topped by a shallow, currently empty basin. Behind a gate to the left, at the highest point of the rise, a Sira stone of stalwart frame stood, while to the right another magical barrier forbade access to a small wellspring.
Kyra's troubled stare was fixed on the dozen or so reptilian figures in colourful scraps of clothing bundled almost carelessly in a corner, not a sign of life among them. Ben and Jen were drawn to the half dozen Shaala lingering foggy-eyed and listless close by, while Mayla regarded with unease the huge, powerful, armoured figure standing motionless alongside the pedestal, leather-gloved paws clasping the pommel of a longsword stuck point down in the dirt before them.
Barroth and Roluth took everything in, betraying little reaction, then the latter looked to Kyra.
"A difficult situation. Might I suggest my mate and I tackle the sealed well, key as it is?"
Kyra nodded, brow furrowed as she thought. "You'd likely be the only ones able to deal with it, so agreed. My main focus is the Shaala; all of them. I think the vacant ones are being controlled, and well, I fear the worst for the rest. We'll have to deal with all of the former before we can check on the latter, and it won't be easy.
"Ben and May, you'll be up close; I'll support from range; Jenna, you hold back and heal and shield as necessary. Got it?"
"Got it," All three quietly but intently responded.
"Then_go_."
Ben and Mayla in the lead the group entered the village; the dragons made haste to the sealed wellspring, while the others approached the spellbound Shaalas, the shrew readying her mace, the older vixen and male fox bringing out their bow and staff respectively, and the fox-girl lifting her paws, all tense and alert.
The gate clattered shut behind them; on whirling to look they found a pale, gracile female otter leaning against the palisade to the right of the entrance in a manner that combined poise with great apathy. She wore a paler woollen cloak of highest quality, clasped at her throat by a disc of silver, and a lustrous white cord circled her hips at an angle, a matching pouch resting low on her right one. One paw was held up in front of her, fingers lazily twirling a trio of spells, while light blue eyes regarded them in heavy-lidded disdain.
"Adept!" Kyra hissed, pulling her string tight; an arrow coalesced, tip aimed right at the new arrival.
The otter shook her head slowly, a flicker of amusement passing over her handsome face. "Leave. Now," she advised, her tone dulcet honey layered with indifference, her free hand gesturing to the gate. "While you still can."
"Sorry." Kyra's eyes had narrowed. "Not happening."
"Ah, so principled; so noble; so..." The otter clicked her fingers, and in a blink six club-wielding Shaalas were lunging for them. "Dead."
Kyra back-pedalled, Jenna alongside her, while Ben and Mayla swung into action, the shrew thumping her mace into the gut of a female as she ducked their strike, Ben snapping his staff in two and sweeping the legs out from under a pair of males. Three quick flashes of magic from Jen cushioned their landings.
Another female managed to dodge Ben's stave, and her club rushed at his head; it was deflected an inch from his eye by Jenna throwing up a barrier. A third female hurled her club at the younger fox; a sharply fired arrow from Kyra pinged it away, both projectiles fetching up next to the still utterly unmoved otter, the shaft dissolving.
The latter flipped her spells a short distance into the air, where they hung, then gave a slow, laconic clap, her expression increasingly smug; a languid swirl of her digits gathered the orbs again. "You may actually possess some small skill with that. Such a pity you refuse to use it to its full potential..." A flick of her wrist sent a spell spinning toward the smaller white vixen, solidifying into stone as it went.
Kyra snapped off an arrow, hitting the orb full on; it shattered into dust, while the shaft cracked into the palisade a mere sliver above the otter's head; the fox took no small amount of satisfaction in the shock and anger that flashed over the adept's face. "That's_entirely_ a matter of opinion," she purred.
Magic rippled in front of her eyes, and a club rebounded off it; heart racing momentarily, she slammed the end of her bow into the chin of the female lizard who'd attacked with enough force for her to be fully senseless before she'd hit the ground. Guilty, the vixen crouched and made sure they were all right, then glanced at the otter.
"Careful!" they mocked, even more self-satisfied now. "You wouldn't want to get any beast blood on that spotless white fur of yours."
Growling, Kyra fired another arrow in their direction; it impacted just an inch from the hole left by the last one. That the otter flinched and ducked slightly drew a dark grin. "Careful; your nerves are showing."
"I'm not afraid of you!" the adept spat, then sneered. "You're barely worth a thought." She flung a spell out again, this time at Kyra.
The vixen shielded herself, and the orb exploded in a blinding flare of light; blinking and stumbling, she didn't notice the male Shaala coming for her with club raised. Ben did, and launched himself at the reptile with a yell, both his staves slamming across their flank. They spun and hit the ground on their tail, bending it violently with a crack.
Their agonised yell snapped the fox out of his fury; shame and worry bordering on panic taking over he dropped to his knees alongside the fallen Shaala, shaking. "Shit, what have I done?! I'm so sorry!"
Kyra joined him, gripping his muzzle to bring them nose-to-nose. She gave him a quick lap, but her eyes were keenly serious. "We'll talk over this later; right now, focus and help subdue the last Shaala. I'll see to this one. All right?"
"All right." Ben swallowed, nodded, and got up, moving to help Mayla with the last standing lizard.
His mother stroked a paw across the brow of the lizard in front of her, feeling an acute pang at the sight of the damp trails running from their eyes. Her other hand explored the new kink in their tail, trying to see if was broken or just fractured; at the same time, her eyes flicked over to the otter, checking for her reaction.
It didn't go unnoticed. "Quite the temper your young fellow has," the adept observed, dryly, somehow managing to look even more smug, while her eyes had sharpened considerably. "And not overmuch in the way of control. So very interesting..."
Kyra ignored her; satisfied the tail was just fractured, she healed it as best she could, then focused on the spell she knew was hiding in their head, intent on dissecting it. This also didn't go unnoticed.
"I really wouldn't bother." The otter brushed her cloak casually. "You can't even begin to comprehend the complexity of those spells. I also wouldn't put much faith in your dragon friends overcoming my barrier any time soon. Forgotten relics with no comprehension of the levels I have reached, the heights to which I ha-"
"Success!" bellowed a deep, rough voice, as the seal vanished with a crack. "Such carelessly woven magic. No finesse at all."
A moment later the final Shaala found their way to the ground, and a sextet of stares converged on the otter. Amused smirks creased many muzzles at the sight of the fury and indignation blazing in her eyes.
It vanished in a literal blink as she affected a dismissive air, waving a bored paw, though there was still an edge to her bearing. "Anyone can be lucky, even dregs like you, but luck..."
Another click of her finger, and the armoured giant lifted his sword.
"Runs out."
The group backed away and spread out, all poised to react. His head, almost fully encased in an iron helmet, swivelled to and fro for several moments, then he started taking heavy steps toward Ben.
"Well,this shouldn't take long," the otter drawled, smug once more.
The fox threw her a glare, then clicked his staff back together and set himself in a low ready stance, fingers of his free paw twitching. Seven more paces, then almost five feet of sharpened iron was sweeping for his neck. He ducked, spun aside, whipped his stave into a leather-clad neck and kicked out at the nearest ankle.
The giant grunted and stumbled, and blindly flailed at Ben, but the fox was already darting behind him. A flash of sharp magic and their chest plate was crashing to the ground; a hard flick of the staff into a now unprotected gut and they were doubling over; a smart thwack to the back of the head, and they hit the ground.
Ben shot a sardonic smile at the otter. "Not long at all."
She fired back a look of such incredulous outrage they half-expected her to combust on the spot. "Impossible! He's a knight!"
"In training, I would surmise," Roluth speculated, casually. "Minimal skill to speak of, and entirely inadequate posture."
"You're a bloody dragon!" the otter railed. "How would you_know the slightest _thing about combat craft?"
"It is custom among dragons to accumulate knowledge of whichever subjects they deem of greatest personal interest," Roluth responded, placidly. "Prominent among mine is combat technique. Perhaps you'd care to demonstrate your own, undoubtedly impeccable abilities?"
Still glaring venomously, the Adept sneered and waved a hand. "I see no need to dirty my paws. I still have my sentinel, and no matter what cheap tricks you try, you'll never get the best of them.NEVER!" With a violent flourish she flung out the last of her spells, which swelled into an oval swirl of pale, mobile light. Without another word or so much as a backward glance she stepped through it, and it snapped shut.
"Do you think we annoyed her?" Jenna asked, cocking her head, her eyes innocently wide.
"Just a little!" Kyra laughed. "But at least it gives us time to see to the Shaala and the trainee knight."
Taking the hint, all bar Ben focused on a Shaala apiece, while the fox centred his attention on the warrior, each resting a paw on a skull and examining the spells they found within.
"This is actually very well woven," Kyra soon noted. "Hardly careless."
"On a technical level it's close to impeccable," Roluth admitted, then gave the vixen a wry smile. "But I was hardly about to tell _her_that. It does, however, sorely lack imagination, and is thus quite predictable in its methodology. I foresee no issues in unmaking these."
"Good. Care to share your insights with the rest of us?"
With the dragon's clear instructions, all the Shaala control spells were taken out and dispensed with, leaving them free to tend to the shaken and bruised lizards. The knight's proved a little trickier, but with help from Roluth it too was removed, releasing a groggy knight.
The last pulled off his helmet, to reveal a broad, open bear face that looked around in considerable confusion. "How...did I wind up here?"
"No memories?"
"None."
Ben helped him to his feet, and supported him as he swayed gently in place. "What do you remember last?"
"Disembarking in Portbridge." The bear's brow crinkled. "Passing by a Tradehouse. An...otter...approached me. Then nothing until now."
"That otter spellbound you," Ben explained. "You're free now."
"Thank you." He offered a sincere smile. "I just worry about what I've done while under their control. It has been at least a day..."
"I wouldn't worry," Ben assured him. "I'm Benjamin, by the way."
"Glyn." The bear held out a heavy, leather-gloved paw. "Any way I can be of assistance?"
"We could always use more paws." The fox beckoned for the bear to follow him, heading to join Jenna and Barroth in helping the dozen or so Shaalas now stirring in the corner.
"They're all right, if weak," the vixen told them. "Snotty the Otter cut off their magic."
"For at least two weeks," Barroth added, shaking his head. "I suspect they wouldn't have survived much longer."
Ben growled softly, then deeper concern set in. "I don't see any cubs here. Where are they?"
"In one of the buildings?" Glyn suggested.
"Lets hope." Ben jogged for the nearest.
Jenna watched them go, eyes wide with worry. "What If they aren't?"
"Best not to dwell on that possibility," Barroth advised. "On a lighter subject, did you happen to observe her cord and pouch?"
The fox-girl nodded. "Hard not to. What material was that?"
"Ghost-weaver silk; given its considerable rarity, and that the beings that produce it are now only to be found on the very wildest and most inaccessible of islets, I have to wonder quite how she came by it."
"Let me guess: magical creatures are one of your interests?" She sent a freshly-healed Shaala to where the lizards were congregating around Kyra and Roluth.
"Very much so; I'm intimately familiar with all bar one: the imp. Not a trace of them has been encountered in many a year, thus I fear they may have entirely vanished from the isles."
As her mother was beckoning Jenna made a mental note to sate her curiosity another time and headed over, Roluth with her; that several cubs were now in the mix came as a great relief.
"Is everyone here?" Kyra asked.
"No-one's missing," a male Shaala confirmed, his sort loincloth by far the most detailed in its green and red patterning. "We owe you all our lives. We were no match for that otter and her earthen puppets."
"Clay-borns?" White ears pricked up. "She has Clay-borns?"
"Four of them," the lizard confirmed. "All big as bears."
"Then why th' flick didn't she set them on us?" Mayla asked, bluntly.
"I guess she didn't think us worth it," Ben surmised. "Probably a good chance we'll bump into them now, though."
"In which case, mind if I join you?" Glyn asked. "I know I'm still pretty rough, but..."
"We'd welcome it," Kyra assured him.
"Def'nit'ly," Mayla concurred, grinning up at the bear.
"Before we leave," the elder vixen continued, "is there anything else we can help with?"
The Shaala shook his head. "We should be able to recover, now. Our thanks to you, again."
"Our pleasure." Kyra gripped his paw, and they nudged foreheads.
A remorseful Ben turned to the one whose tail he'd damaged. "I can't apologise enough for what I did. If there's any way I can make amends just say and I'll do it."
"You're forgiven." The male pressed foreheads with the fox. "Just get that otter good, all right?"
Ben smirked darkly. "We intend to."
"Until our trails cross again." Kyra nodded to the Shaala then started walking, the others falling into line behind her.
"Hopefully soon!" the lead lizard called after them. "We do have our solstice coming up soon, after all!"
Kyra grinned. "Consider it a date!"
It took far less time to reach the Dragon Tomb than it had the Shaala village, aided by a complete absence of any resistance. Stepping from the trees, a quite tremendous mound of grass-swathed stone loomed before them, rising almost eighty feet high, equally as wide and easily two hundred feet long.
The entire front of it had been carved into a limestone likeness of a dragon, broad shoulders square, powerful forelegs reaching dozens of feet out, and a strong and noble head larger than a Shaala roundhouse held aloft. Rear legs had been shaped from the flanks of the barrow, and a ridged tail ran along the entire left side.
Kyra chuckled at the wonder etched deep into every other face. "Not too shabby, is it?"
"It's stupendous," Jenna breathed, blue eyes so wide her face had to struggle to contain them. "Staggering..."
"One damn big dragon," Mayla opined. "Ya really don't do things by half, do ya?"
"Not if we can help it." Kyra gave her a quick grin, then pointed to the forecourt of flagstones between the legs. "Although, there should only be the one statue..."
Five figures stood in a line across the rear of the area, a nude vixen of fairly full form carved in stone, and four hulking otters sculpted from a heavy brown clay.
"Of_course_ they're in her own image." Ben rolled his eyes.
"Can anyone see her?" Glyn asked. "Don't want to be ambushed."
"Nary a trace," Roluth relayed.
"Then look harder," her acid voice called out.
Seven gazes snapped up, to the head of the carved dragon, in time to watch the adept saunter onto it, looking as aloof and assured as ever.
"How'd she get up there?" Jenna wondered.
"Doesn't matter." Kyra rolled her head. "She's not staying there."
The elder vixen in the lead, the group moved carefully to the far end of the forecourt, keenly watching the clays and the otter. The instant all their feet were on the slabs, a magical barrier rushed across behind them, one one foot to the other, sealing them in as the adept smirked.
She mockingly beckoned. "Oh, come a little closer. Just one step."
"And then your soil-spun friends spring to life, right?" Ben shook his head. "I think we'll stay here for now."
The otter chuckled condescendingly, four spells now spinning around her fingers. "No, no, no; they won't so much as twitch until I tell them to. Besides..." She languidly let the orbs fall; they disappeared through the flagstones, which started to shift and rumble. "I think we need to tip the balance a little..."
Alarm rippling through the group, weapons were readied and stances taken as the slabs were lifted and pushed aside by tall earthen figures that seemed to rise from a crouch as they formed. In just a handful of tense heartbeats four more clay-born otters of burly, imposing frame were standing before them.
"Much better!" The adept nodded her satisfaction, then clapped her paws; earthen eyes filled with shifting white; hers narrowed. "Smear them across the stones."
The eight clay-born stampeded forward, limbs swinging with purpose and power. Kyra retreated to a corner, fingers rapping a rapid tattoo on her bow, Jenna hung back, Ben, Mayla and Glyn quickly spread out in a line between the vixens and the attackers, and the pair of dragons charged headlong into the latter, tails thrashing and jaws snapping.
Two clayborn splintered and crumbled under their assault; two more lost ragged chunks of their sides but kept going. One aimed a blow at Mayla, who spun under it and hammered her mace into the back of its head; fractures spread, but it didn't flinch, cracking its hand across her skull so hard it barrelled her across the flagstones to crunch into the legs of Glyn. It rocked the bear hard, but didn't prevent him cleaving another clayborn in two, then hauling up the shrew with one paw.
Both their weapons crunched into the wounded one following up on its attack, pounding its head off its shoulders to shatter on the stones, close enough to Ben to shower him in fragments as he leapt high over a sweeping leg and smashed an elbow with one of his staves. With a whiplash thrust of magic he caught the forearm he'd severed before it hit the ground and hurled it at a clayborn lunging for Jenna.
It was pushed enough off balance for the fox-girl to twist away from its grasp and dart towards Kyra, throwing a barrier over her mother's head to deflect a sparking spell casually flung at them by the adept. It ricocheted into the earthen puppet she'd evaded, blasting it to pieces in a roar of purple flame. The elder vixen sent an arrow soaring at the otter, who batted it aside with a flick of magic, barely flinching at the explosion of lavender energy that resulted.
Lip curling in disdain the adept aimed another orb at Ben, forcing him to fling himself away from a swiftly re-forming clayborn; the blast had barely faded before he was back trying to access the controlling spell, but a blow across the muzzle from another sent him tumbling. Jenna was with him in a second to heal the scraped, bloodied skin, then both had to evade a hand knocked flying by Roluth.
The dragon's tail pulverised the legs of an attacker, leaving its torso to hit the ground and burst; it began to rebuild almost immediately, clay surging back up into a hefty otter shape that kicked Barroth's flank so savagely the other dragon's haunches skidded and half rolled. Roaring and righting himself, Barroth's jaws crunched onto the clayborn's head and tore it clean off, then flung it high.
It dashed across the stones inches from Kyra's feet, as the vixen shot an arrow at the otter, stopping them from launching another spell; as it began to grow again, its body marching toward it, she clasped paws to it and focused. It only took her a couple of seconds to crack it, and a dark grin curved over her face as the clayborn crumbled to powder.
It widened at the screech of outrage from the adept, and yet more as a spell detonated ten feet behind her. A yell drew her focus to Glyn in time to see the bear stumble, winded by a fist to the chest. She fired an arrow that hit the attacker in the neck, and their entire upper half erupted into dust. Glyn gave her a grateful smile, then smashed away a clayborn who'd pinned Mayla's arms.
The shrew patted his side, before pounding her mace into the face of the regrowing attacker who'd hit the bear. Still forming, they lurched towards Ben, who spun the one he was dealing with round enough for them to collide and half-collapse into each other. He took the chance to go after their spells; he needed a little more time than Kyra, but the result was still the same; both crumbled.
Hearing a raging yell, he looked up to spot an orb arcing towards his face; a whip of magic sent it racing back the way it had come, the otter having to duck out of its way. She fumed further at the sight of Mayla and Glyn dispatching another one, then stamped her foot. The heavy oaken doors of the barrow opened inwards, and twitching slate-grey tentacles began to feel their way out.
One latched onto Jenna's leg as she darted around a clayborn, pulling the fox-girl off her feet; her shoulder hit the ragged edge of a ruptured flagstone, suffering a long, heavy gash, then she was roughly dragged towards a massive clouded eye widening in the darkness. No amount of increasingly frantic kicking or scrabbling could break her free.
One of Ben's staves smashing onto the tentacle did, though, allowing the fox to haul his sister away, ducking past Mayla and Glyn as they did for another clayborn. He healed her wound as best he could, pressed a kiss to her forehead, then turned to march with grim intent toward the now fully-emerged new arrival.
A floating grey orb of five-foot diameter, its entire face was taken up by its eye, while a dozen tentacles issued from either side of a vertical ridge right down its back, all of them currently lashing out at anything mobile that wasn't a clayborn with whip-like speed and power. One of them stung Ben's ear, but he kept going, until a scaly tail blocked him.
Roluth gave him a warning stare, and firmly shook his head. The fox tilted his, frowning, then nodded, but before he could move off again Kyra's paw was clasping his shoulder. The vixen whispered in his ear, he nodded again, then both moved to confront the orb, Ben readying his staves, Kyra shrinking her bow and stowing it on her sash.
Tentacles struck at both of them; Kyra deftly side-stepped hers while Ben ducked in to crack a hit across the top of the sphere, right where the ridge began. Two limbs lashed at him; he dropped under them to roll away, then flinched back from an earthen foot trying to smash his muzzle into the slabs.
The clayborn was slammed aside and to the ground by Roluth, while Ben sprang up and drove another attack in on the orb. More tentacles tried to snag his throat and upper leg, but he blocked them both then stung its eye. That was enough for all of its limbs to go for him, a mass of writhing tentacles that rapidly engulfed him, fully intent on crushing him to a pulp. He glanced at Kyra.
The vixen immediately took the cue, leaping onto Barroth's back then flinging herself at the orb; she clung to the top of it, searching out the spell then working feverishly to dismantle it, even as the creature tried to shake her off. Success was met with a yell, and the orb dropping to the flagstones, the clouds fading from its eye; Ben slumped free of its tentacles, gasping for breath.
Kyra hastened to help him up, then both cast their gazes to the otter high above; they were greeted by a look so thunderous it rivalled the storm the night before. She began swiftly weaving spells, raining them down on the forecourt; more and more clayborn emerged from under the slabs, leaving barely any undisturbed.
All of the group hastily backed off, but the orb stayed put, lifting into the air once more and spreading its tentacles facing the earthen army, eye now blazing yellow-green and its entire body flaring red. Then it surged forward, its limbs a furious whirl of motion that devastated the clayborn, wrenching off heads and arms and legs, ripping torsos apart and smashing bodies together in a tempest of dust.
Kyra, Mayla and Roluth rushed in behind, taking out the spells before the attackers could reform. A tentacle sent a clayborn's severed skull hurtling face-first towards the otter; she lifted a paw and it exploded right in front of her, peppering her with dirt, her glare reaching truly murderous proportions.
"ENOUGH!" she roared, dropping from the statue dragon head to hit the ground with such force a shockwave rippled out across the stones and through the air, knocking everyone flying and decimating the last few clayborn; she rose, dark magical claws extending from her fingers, her breath heavy, her eyes narrow. "I've had all I can take of you..."
Mayla and Glyn were the first to right themselves, and charged at her from either side, one aiming her club low, the other his sword high; a paw smacked the club aside as the otter ducked under the sword and jabbed a kick into the bear's gut; as he buckled she whisked round to block a punch from the shrew while driving a fist into their jaw.
Ben steadied a dazed Mayla then rushed the adept, one stave tensed to intercept, the other jabbing at her hip; a thrust of her palm cracked the first into his muzzle, and a rake of claws tore the second out of his grasp and hammered it into his side; a hard foot to the lower back as he spun dropped him.
He fell over Barroth as the dragon attacked, jarring his tail swing well off course; the otter jumped it, simultaneously slashing at Mayla and splitting kicks into Roluth's face and Glyn's chest. An arrow rushed at her as she landed; she twisted around it, watching with a smirk as it blew Barroth over, the dragon nearly crushing Ben.
Tentacles surged in from many directions; her arms became a blur as she batted them all away, usually towards someone else. Mayla's club was pulled from the shrew's grasp before it could hit the otter's chest and thrown into the orb's eye. Glyn's sword was redirected at the fox going for her knee; he dodged it, but not the adept's claws, taking long gashes to his side.
Jenna rushed in to try to heal them, but as her paws pressed to the wounds another swipe from the otter sliced right through the base of her tail. Her piercing scream silenced everyone; Ben desperately tried to rescue the bleeding fox-girl but claws snatched her away, clasping her to the otter, one set at her throat, the other her belly.
"Should I lop a few more bits off?" she sneered, "or will you all admit you're beaten? You can't touch me."
Everyone backed off, Glyn shaking with horror, Ben looking close to savage, Kyra and Mayla not much calmer. The elder vixen spoke up.
"What do you want?"
The otter sneered. "For all of you to stand perfectly still while I dust you out of existence." She glanced down at a weeping, trembling Jen, and chuckled darkly, claws curling in on the fox-girl's stomach. "But I might just have a little more _fun_first..."
Jenna's eyes closed, and Ben thrust both paws forward with a roar; a blast of magic kicked up so much dust it blanketed the entire area and blinded everybody for several seconds; when it cleared the forecourt had been restored, the younger vixen was crumpled on the floor, the otter was slumped motionless against the statue, and the stone head of the dragon effigy was glowering down at her with bright amethyst eyes and an open mouth full of purple flame.
Ben's glare at the adept as she slowly stirred was barely less intense, his arms still locked out. She looked groggily around, gaped at him in tremulous shock, then pointed.
"How could you...? But that's not...! You're a...a..."
Ben growled. "Leave. Now. While you still can."
"We're not done!" She hissed, fishing a spell from her pouch; lobbing it out produced a portal, and she stepped in with one last venomous parting shot. "Not by a long way."
Only once the gate disappeared did Ben lower his hands, at the same time Jenna's eyes opened, creased with pain; the dragon statue's head closed its mouth and tilted back up, amethyst glows fading away. The fox dropped to cradle his sister in something close to panic, kissing her face and murmuring tearful comfort.
Kyra joined him, briefly, then looked to Roluth, who was studying the wound. "Well? Can you...?"
The dragon shook his head grimly. "The adept's magic was corrupted, and it's tainted Jenna's stump; I can't do anything. The only one who_might_ be able to purify her is Mother Oak, but we'll have to be fast to stand any chance of healing her. The same goes for Ben."
"Corrupted?" Kyra's brows knit briefly, then she rapidly wove a spell and sank it into her daughter. "That should numb the pain. Seal it."
Roluth breathed a small and controlled flame over Jenna's stump to cauterise it, then did the same for the severed tail. A sick-looking Ben collected it, cradling it carefully.
"Barroth and I will make a brief search of the tomb," Kyra continued, tersely. "Everyone else, head back to Oakden."
She kissed her daughter's mouth, helped her onto Roluth's back, then watched with troubled eyes as she was whisked away, Ben, Mayla and a still distressed Glyn jogging alongside. Her head dipping, she took a very long breath, then moved to stand before the orb, now a pale hue of green with its tentacles held low.
She dipped her head respectfully. "My thanks for your help."
"My thanks for your rescue," it answered, in a soft yet resonant voice of androgynous nature that seemed to fill the air around it. "If there's anything I can do to repay you, just say."
"All you can tell us of the otter would be useful."
"Very little, I fear; she kept me sealed in a side chamber most of the time. I do know she had four lesser adepts doing her bidding, and that she treated them horribly. She killed one that she believed had let slip knowledge of what they were doing. A truly vile individual."
"That she'd so callously enslave a wide-eye is proof enough," Barroth muttered. "Did you perchance happen to catch wind of what she had the others engaged in?"
"I'm afraid not. They were at great pains to say nothing about it."
"Pity." Kyra sighed. "We'll just have to see for ourselves, if she hasn't cleared everything out. Care to help us..." She trailed off.
"Zeph, and yes." The wide-eye's hue brightened; half their tentacles gestured towards the doors. "Ladies first."
The vixen nodded thanks then pushed into the tomb, her ears perked and frame tensed. She was met with darkness and silence beyond the first few feet, so wove and threw out a light spell. It illuminated a vast space lined with pillars, carved dragons twined around them; spacious enclosures along either side held the curled, imposing mortal remains of more than a dozen dragons.
One was heavily disturbed, the bones a-jumble, the skull missing; an incensed Barroth ran over. "How dare they desecrate our ancestors!"
"I doubt anything's sacred to them," Kyra observed, joining him; she examined the skeleton thoroughly as her companion restored it. "This isn't a wood dragon, is it?"
"No, it isn't." Barroth sighed. "It's a long and painful story for another time and place. My concern now is what the adept intended for her."
Kyra took a spell from her breast, out of which she brought forth the skull, holding it out for Barroth; he set it in place, nodding thanks.
The vixen stood up and looked around, frowning. "They don't seem to have left anything to tell us."
Zeph beckoned them from the far end of the chamber. "I believe I've found something..."
Once they'd joined him, a tentacle indicated a mural of dragons and pelts carved into a limestone panel set into the back wall, particularly the full-framed vixen in the centre. "I think a spell is hidden in there."
Ears perking, Kyra reached forward. "There is indeed." She extracted it, eyeing it curiously. "Of all the places to hide it..."
The orb glowed at her touch, and a male voice issued from it, rushed and tight with tension. "Market Hollow. Fourth of Dew. Midnight at the Rookstone Tavern. Meet me there. You need to know what she's planning. Look for the blue ribbon."
The spell fell silent and the light dimmed. Dragon and vixen shared a glance, then the latter tucked the spell into her shoulder.
"Something to follow up on," she noted. "After we've tended to Jen."
Side-by-side they left the tomb, running into the forest.
Bryony hastened through the undergrowth, ears twitching with every faint grumble from the increasingly grey-swept skies. She could hear the soft, melodic humming very close by, but thanks to a choppy wind was struggling to pin it down. She paused and cast about, then shifted her path a little further east; a minute or so later, she slipped between a hazel and a hawthorn and emerged into a truly tiny clearing.
Just over ten feet across and roughly circular in shape, a space in the canopies above let a cone of palest light fall on a golden-yellow stone standing in the middle. Only a little taller than the lynx cub herself, it was roughly in the form of a flower bud, broadly rounded at the base, then tapering nearly to a point, its surface patched and streaked with lichen; the lyrical plainsong welled from it.
Grinning, Bryony waded through knee high grass to kneel before it, a paw reaching out to rest against it, finding it warm to the touch. She closed her eyes, lowered her head, and for a moment simply listened to its wistful, almost plaintive music. Then she sat back, producing a spell from her shoulder, and from that a sheet of nettle paper, a flask of ink and her favourite quill pen.
She held the paper against the stone with her right paw, and a finger of her left traced across the map of local forest paths sketched on it, a segment of web extending east from the blob of Oakden. It settled on a point close to the river Willow, just north of the track that tunnelled underneath it. Nodding in satisfaction, she inked her quill and dabbed a bud-shape there.
Another rumble, not quite so quiet, spurred Bryony into returning all her items to the spell, and that to her shoulder. As she turned to leave something rustled above her; her head snapped up to see, perched in the upper reaches of an oak, a small, brown figure with a yellow-white throat and an ivy vine tied loosely around his hips.
The lynx-girl yelped, startled, and stumbled, falling back against the stone, cracking her head; by the time she'd recovered her senses, the pine marten was right in front of her, concern writ large across a sharp but open face, and shining in rich brown eyes. He held out a paw.
Bryony hesitated, then accepted, letting him pull her to her feet. The boy then bobbed his head apologetically, flashing a contrite grin.
She smiled, relaxing. "Don't worry, and thank you. I'm Bryony."
"Fel," he chirped, fair beaming now.
"I know I did," Bryony laughed. "What's your name?"
"Fel!" he repeated.
"I know!" She laughed again. "But what's...your...name?"
"Fel!" He jabbed his chest, starting to look just a little frustrated.
"Oh!" Her ears reddened. "You're called Fel."
He nodded, grin shining anew, and indicated the monolith. "You like Singing Stones?"
"Yes. I'm trying to find them all." Her ears pricked. "Do you...?"
"Know plenty!" He began to move, beckoning. "Come! One near!"
Still a little uncertain, but driven on by curiosity, Bryony followed him through the undergrowth to the broad dirt track that led to the tunnel beneath the Willow, just visible far to their left. Here the pine marten froze, all his senses primed, head pivoting back and forth. He relaxed, took three steps forward, then froze again, in the middle of the path, his gaze fixed on the distant tunnel.
"People come," he reported, quickly and sharply. "Lots, in panic. See you again, Bry'ny."
Before she'd even fully opened her mouth to answer he was gone, a whisper retreating through the bushes. Rapidly approaching footsteps pulled her attention to the path, and the cluster of figures heading her way at an urgent pace. Shock briefly thrummed through Bryony at the sight of the wood dragon, then acute worry took over on realising who was on their back, and the state she was in.
She broke into a run, aiming for Ben, jogging alongside a badger and a shrew in front of the dragon. When they met, the fox swept her up without breaking stride, settling her against his side. He nuzzle-kissed her, but said nothing. Licking his cheek, she settled in for the ride, one eye lingering on the unconscious, tail-less Jenna.
The east entrance of Oakden was looming close when a shimmering sweep of pale lavender energy crossed the track, curving in such a way as to guide them left, toward a path that had opened up through thick hawthorn, soon vanishing into darkness. Ben set down Bryony.
"Head to our usual spot. I'll join you as soon as I'm able." He pressed his muzzle to hers briefly, then ran to catch the others, already fading into the black, the lynx-girl watching.
Once he was out of sight she turned for Oakden, but the curl of pale purple magic was still there. She stood in place, gnawing on her nails, trepidation and confusion warring within her, torn on what to do, until an invisible paw settled on her back and eased her forwards, down the shadowy trail in the wake of the group.
It stayed there while she walked, a strangely comforting sensation as the world turned completely dark. Thankfully, the light wasn't long in returning, a domed chamber coalescing before her eyes. Gnarled and knotted roots radiated from the apex in all directions, while flagstones of golden-yellow were laid across the floor.
A double-teardrop design was etched into the slabs in the centre of the room, lined with quartz that glittered beneath the broad shaft of light spreading from the point the roots converged. The dragon, the badger, the shrew and Ben were gathered around the latter, a huddle of tension and distress, while Jen floated within it, seeming peacefully asleep, her severed tail beside her.
Bryony blanched at the sight of it, stomach twisting; she backed away with paws to her mouth, soon fetching up against roots and stone that hadn't been there before. Unnoticed by anyone, and keen to keep it that way, the lynx watched in silence as a glow passed over the white vixen, soon focusing on her stump.
It lingered there for what felt like several minutes, and when it faded Jenna was gently lowered to the floor; the dragon leaned in.
"The corruption's been cleansed," he reported, "but..."
"But_what_, Roluth?" Ben demanded, tersely, trembling.
"But..." The dragon sighed. "There's...no way to reattach her tail..."
"What...?" Ben's shaking worsened, and he pulled at his ears. "B-but that can't be right. She's Mother Oak..."
"Even she has her limits," Roluth soothed. "However, given time..."
"She's_MOTHER OAK_!" the fox suddenly roared, paws clenching, tears stinging his eyes. "And you're a bloody dragon! All that magic, all that skill, and NOTHING?!" He let out a rough and wrenching sob. "WHAT FUCKING GOOD ARE YOU?!"
The shrew caught hold of his shoulders, trying to calm him down, but the fox threw her off so roughly she lost her balance and fell onto the dragon. Bryony scurried forward, reaching out to touch his back, and he swung out without looking, catching the lynx-girl so hard across the face she crunched back into the wall with a scream.
The room fell silent as she wept and cradled her bleeding muzzle, the anger in Ben's face melting into horror, then despair. The fox sank to his knees, shaking even more, cradling his head in his paws. "What did I do...?" He started shuffling towards her, paws reaching out. "I'm s-so, so sorry! I-I don't know what..."
Bryony shied away, pushing herself along the wall; Ben slumped even more, sobbing heavily. Before any of the others could move, Barroth and Kyra appeared in the chamber, grim-faced and focused. The vixen took everything in wordlessly, then knelt to Bryony, drawing the child into her embrace, licking the blood from her nose. Then she levelled a stony gaze at Ben.
"Care to explain?"
Her son didn't even look up, burying his face in his hands.
Roluth stepped in. "I'm afraid he reacted badly to some unfortunate developments."
"What developments?"
"Jenna's tail. There's...no way to reattach it."
Kyra's jaw tightened, and fire flashed for an instant in her eyes, then it was gone. She took a breath, settling herself. "Very unfortunate. It doesn't come close to excusing your behaviour though, Benjamin. Go wash up whilst I take Jenna to Theo; we'll talk later."
Ben nodded, pulled himself to his feet, then walked away, tail so flat to his legs the tip dragged along the floor, ears plastered to his head.
Bryony watched him go, one paw tentatively reaching out to him...