The Black Collar: Chapter Nine

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Chapter Nine

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Booming thunder rattled the windows in Alvaranox’s home. Flashes of blue-white light illuminated the dragon’s sleeping chamber in flickering moments. The rumbles that followed rolled through the night in stuttering cascades of furious sound. Curtains of heavy rain battered the land in ceaseless waves. Between the sharp crackles and deep reverberations of thunder, the rain that pounded against the roof and windows filled the night with a steady, hissing rush.

Usually Alvaranox liked the rain. It reminded him of an old lover he’d met in a downpour. The memory made him smile. The dragon also knew Asterryl needed the rain after over a month of hot sun. What the dragon did not like was all the damn thunder that was keeping him awake all night.

The rains had started that morning, gentle at first but soon interspersed with thunder and heavy downpours. All day long and into the night the rain and storms had ebbed and flowed, filling the streets and gutters with muddy streams. Sometime in the middle of the night the storms reached their apex.

If Alvaranox was lucky, the floods would wash Asterryl away and he wouldn’t have to protect it any longer.

If only the water could wash the collar away too. Damn thing had been bothering him since the rains began. Now and then the bell tolled, though it never sent him any urgent warnings. Never pulled him in any one direction, as though the danger was here in Asterryl. Alv wondered if it wished him to rescue someone from the water. It seemed to have conveniently forgotten that he was still a hobbled dragon. Limping about on three paws wasn’t going to do much good for anyone.

Alvaranox had spent much of the day in his sleeping chamber where it was warm and dry. Kirra told him to stay indoors. She didn’t want him to soak his bandages. Alvaranox snorted. He wasn’t some hatchling eager to play in the rain and jump in every muddle puddle he could find. Of course, if Kirra stood close enough to a mud puddle he’d jump into it just to splash her. He’d dashed outside relieve himself but other than that stayed in his home. Nylah and Kirra had wrapped themselves in heavy rain cloaks to fetch his meals and his herbs.

After the third time the bell tolled in his mind with no specific urge to follow, the dragon tried to focus on it. He closed his eyes and asked it what it wanted, what he needed to do. It answered with a picture of a man in a hooded rain cloak, crossing a bridge near Asterryl. The small stream that normally flowed under the bridge had risen to a roaring cascade. The dragon thought perhaps the bridge was going to wash away. He could not check on it himself but he sent a few guards. They reported back later in the day that the bridge was still there and showing no signs of stress, and that they hadn’t found any signs of travelers. Hopefully the man hadn’t gotten washed away.

As the afternoon progressed into evening and evening into night, the rains showed no sign of letting up. The collar continued to ring the bell in his mind. Each time Alvaranox tried to concentrate and see what it wanted, bits and pieces of images assembled themselves in his head. Each image turned out to be another person in the rain, somewhere inside Asterryl or just beyond it. The dragon had Kirra send the guards to investigate but they never seem to find anything. Alvaranox finally decided Kirra must have broken the damn collar somehow. She didn’t seem as amused by that idea as the dragon was.

By the time night’s blanket was spread across the city, Alvaranox decided to ignore the tolling bell. He’d sent the guards out multiple times and yet they found nothing. There was no sense sending them out again and again if the results were going to be the same.

If the collar had something more urgent for him to deal with surely it would give him some kind of direction. It frustrated Alvaranox that the collar acted so strange lately. Before he was wounded it had never once buzzed around his neck. Since that day it tolled at strange times, gave him images that did little to assist him, and generally made a nuisance of itself. Not that the dragon was in any condition to go out and wreak havoc as the Guardian Slave even if the collar demanded it.

Alvaranox feared the thing would yank him around like a broken puppet and force him to fight, injured or not. When he considered it rationally, it seemed unlikely. After all a dead Guardian Slave was no good to Asterryl. Still, it was a chilling thought and he was glad it had not truly called him to action since then. If it did try to send him out to battle some unknown threat, he would have to marshal as many guards as possible and send them in his stead. He’d already planned for that contingency and had Nylah talk to the guard captain about it.

Alvaranox did his best to ignore the occasional tolling of the bell as he tried to sleep. If not for the frequent thunder he might have been successful. The steady hiss of rainfall was calming on its own yet rarely lasted more than moments before another flash of brilliant light and shattering clap of thunder. With his good paw, the dragon dragged one of his new blankets up and over his horned head to block out the lightning. In the weeks since his injury his pile of soft things had conquered more and more of his sleeping chamber, swelled by donations of blankets and pillows from the townsfolk.

The indigo blanket he pulled across his head did block out the next burst of blue-white light. It also allowed the ensuring thunderclap to take Alv by surprise. Alvaranox yelped and jerked his head up, pinning his ears back. His spines flared out in alarm and the indigo blanket fell from his head.

“Can’t sleep either, hmm?”

Alvaranox turned his head towards Kirra’s voice. The young woman was spending the night watching over the dragon. She wanted someone there for him in case he needed anything during the storm. She kept a few things stocked in the visitor’s quarters lately including a few spare outfits, books and journals and some of her drawing utensils. The dragon doubted the storm allowed her any slumber either.

“Not with all this racket,” Alvaranox grumbled. “You?”

“I dozed off a little earlier,” Kirra said, leaning against the doorway of the far chamber. She held a blue and cream colored blanket wrapped around herself. Red hair mussed by her attempts to sleep stuck out in all directions. “But I think the thunder’s gotten louder. After it woke me I couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“You’re lucky you slept at all.” Alvaranox watched Kirra for a moment. The dragon’s vision was sharp enough at night he could clearly see her even in the gloom. A flash of lightning give her skin a pale, ghostly glow. Alvaranox smirked to himself. “You’re not naked under that blanket, are you?”

“No, you dirty old lizard, I am not.” Kirra giggled. “But I am in my under things, and no, I’m not going to show you.”

“Wasn’t going to ask you too.” Alvaranox licked his nose. He lifted his head a little, narrowing his copper eyes. They flashed white in a flicker of lightning. “Why are you in your under things, though?”

“Because I hadn’t brought a nightdress with me, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to go and get one in all that rain.” Kirra shifted a little under the blanket. “Besides, if you needed something I’m sure I’d have plenty of time to get dressed. Unless it was an emergency, in which case the last thing I’d be worried about is you seeing my undergarments.” Kirra laughed to herself, then tilted her head. “Do you want company? Or should I go back to trying to sleep?”

“Get your sleep,” Alvaranox said. He grinned, fangs flashing in the lightning. “You’ll need it to deal with my complaining tomorrow.”

Kirra stuck her tongue out at the dragon before she returned to the small bed kept inside the visitor’s chamber. The room now served as temporary quarters for the dragon’s handler when he needed them to spend the night. As she snuggled back into her bed, Alvaranox lay his head back down against his pile of soft things. Despite the ferocity of the thunder, fatigue was a heavy, warm blanket upon the dragon’s back. Soon he slipped into the peaceful waters of slumber.

Alvaranox might have slept through the thunder, but he could not sleep through the bell. Sometime after he’d dozed off, the spectral toll sounded in his mind. It rang loud and brassy, more vibrant and urgent than he’d heard it since the day of his injury. It was not a warning that could be ignored. The sound woke him in instant, and he jerked his wedge-shaped head up, spines at full extension. At least he didn’t banged his head this time.

Alvaranox panted a little, his wounds throbbing as if to remind him he was not yet fully healed. The bell tolled again. The dragon closed his eyes, not wanting to watch the world fall away from him as the collar shrouded his vision with the wasteland. The sounds of rain and thunder fell to silence as the waste pieced itself together in his mind. Shards of broken black rock and ragged images of sun-baked red earth like old paintings on tattered parchment appeared at the edges of his vision. More and more of them, assembling themselves into one coherent image.

The ebony bell loomed before him. All across it, the carved images of dragons in flight twisted and writhed. They circled the top of the bell, bathing the tear-drop shaped bottom of it in pillars of roiling fire. That was new. He could not recall actually seeing those dragons move before. Or could he? Some days his memories were so faint he wasn’t even sure the bell itself was anything more than a feverish daydream. Coils of silver thread spilled from inside the bell. They began to twist themselves together into the form of the dragon-headed hammer.

“Quit wasting my time with your dramatics,” Alvaranox said aloud, hissing through grit teeth. “If you’ve a problem for me to solve you’d better just show it to me! In case you’ve forgotten, I’m in no condition to be your errand boy today.”

“Alv?” Kirra called out from the other room. She sounded drowsy. Her voice was no more than a drifting melody in the back of the dragon’s mind.

“You’re not even giving me a direction to go.” The dragon continued his rant against the collar, his eyes still closed. He waved his paw in the air. “What’s wrong with you today?” Then he grabbed at the collar, tugging at it. In his mind eye’s eye, the wasteland itself seemed to tilt back and forth in time with the movement of the collar. “What are you telling me to do?”

In an instant, the wasteland shattered into a thousand fragments of painted glass flying in all directions. In another instant, the fragments froze and flipped over, revealing shards of a second image. In one more heartbeat, they all reassembled themselves into a complete picture of a rain-soaked alleyway in Asterryl. A small group of men in heavy cloaks slunk through it. Alvaranox recognized them as the same men the collar had showed him earlier. For one uncertain moment, the dragon was glad they hadn’t washed away after all.

When the collar began to buzz around his neck, the dragon wished they had. The collar hadn’t been telling him to help those men, it had been warning him about them. In the images he saw, the men moved through the rain and gloom, through empty backstreets and alleys. They were using the storm for cover, not wanting anyone to see them out at night. As the collar buzzed harder around his neck, Alvaranox shivered. His scales clicked together in sudden fear. He knew why the men did not wish to be seen.

“Kirra,” the dragon said, his voice an urgent, fearful whisper. “Are those guards still outside?”

“I think so,” Kirra said from the other room. She quickly emerged and padded over to Alvaranox, still wrapped in a blanket. “What’s wrong?”

Alvaranox opened his eyes, sitting up onto his haunches. He turned his head down to Kirra, concern shining in his copper eyes even in the darkness. “Can you fight, Kirra? Can you use a weapon?”

“I know a little,” Kirra said, her own fear twisting her face, and squeezing her heart. “Alv, what’s wrong?”

“There are strangers in our midst, Kirra,” the dragon said, glancing towards the door. “I think they are coming to kill me.”

Kirra turned away from the dragon and dashed back to her quarters, calling over her shoulder. “Go tell the guards! Give them a location if you can.”

Alvaranox hobbled towards the door, surprised to find himself wishing he could be as calm and steadfast as Kirra suddenly seemed to be. For all the times she stumbled over her own words, when the worst happened she handled it better than anyone. If only she could apply that ability in her daily life. Still, being calm in a crisis was certainly a noble quality. If she kept this up, the dragon was going to have to start admiring her.

Alvaranox wished Kirra’s courage in the face of chaos was a physical thing so he could wrap it around himself like a comforting blanket. The dragon’s own powerful heart was pounding hard enough it felt like his sternum was shaking. The way his belly twisted in cold coils made his wounds ache more sharply than they had in days. Who were these people, and why were they coming for him? He knew that was why they were here. The collar did not need words to make that clear. The continued rattling around his neck told him the same thing it had the day he was injured.

The dragon’s life was in danger. These men were not here to harm Asterryl directly, nor were they here to hurt its citizens. They were here only because a dragon dwelled in the city, and they wished to slay it. Even before he reached the door, a myriad of possibilities played across the dragon’s mind in flickering images and fragmented thoughts. Were they related to the dragon slayers who wounded him in the first place? Family members seeking vengeance? New slayers hoping for an easy kill from a wounded beast? Some enemy of Asterryl here to finish off their wounded guardian?

For now, none of it mattered.

The dragon flopped onto his haunches and opened the door with his good paw. Wind blew rain against him, splattering his green scales in cold waves. The fresh smell of rain and the hot stink of burnt ozone washed across the dragon’s nose. Just beyond the door was a small shelter comprised of a few sturdy wooden poles staked in the ground, and heavy gray tarps lashed to them to provide a roof and walls. It served as respite from the rain for the guards assigned to the wounded dragon. The gray tarp walls wavered and shook in the wind, snapping. A soft glow from a lantern within cast a faint silhouette of the two seated guards against the tarp.

“Guards!” Alvaranox called out, fear sharpening his voice. “Come here at once!”

The guards shifted and rose to their feet, pushing the tarps aside to see what the dragon needed. Alvaranox hobbled back from the doorway to give them room to enter his home. Both men were wearing heavy, hooded green and black rain cloaks over their chain mail and their blue and gold surcoats. The first man inside pulled his hood back from his face. The dampness of his graying hair spoke to the less than effective nature of the rain shelter. He blinked bleary eyes.

“What is it, Dragon?”

“Men are coming to kill me,” Alvaranox said, lashing his tail against the floor. The spines clattered and scraped the wood. “I will need your help, and more men as well.”

“How many?” The first guard put his hand on the hilt of the sword strapped around his waist. He tilted his head towards the door, and the second guard vanished into the rain. “And where are they coming from?”

Alvaranox was glad they did not question him. They had no time to waste. “At least six. Last I saw them, they were slinking along an alleyway, near Green River Street, I believe. They have armor, and weapons.”

The second guard returned a moment later with a large crossbow in his hands, and a bolt already loaded and ready. More heavy bolts were now strapped around the outside of his cloak. “Shall I ring the bell?”

“They’ll know we’re aware of them…”

“Can’t be helped can it? We need back up. Just gotta hope the others can hear it over the storm.”

“Wait a few minutes. I’m going into town, there’s a guardhouse not far past the new wall. Dragon says they’re coming down an alley near Green River. Stay here with him and the woman, and choose your shots carefully.” He grabbed the other guards shoulder, squeezing for emphasis. “It can be hard to tell friend from foe in the rain and the dark, and I don’t want to catch a bolt in the chest on the way back.”

“I got it.” The guard with the crossbow nodded, giving the older man a little grin. “Be safe, and get back soon.”

The older guard slipped out into the rain. The one with the crossbow watched him sprint into the rain through the door. Alvaranox shifted himself, curling his tail. When the guard looked back at him, the dragon snorted. “Well, isn’t this exciting.”

“I think Alv just likes to give us a taste of what he goes through.” Kirra spoke up as she walked back out of the visitor’s quarters, fully dressed now.

Kirra had pulled on a loose dark-green blouse that matched her eyes, with spirals of golden thread running down each sleeve. She also wore breeches with a black scale-like pattern overlapping a gray background. It was the same outfit she’d worn during the hardest days of the dragon’s recovery, and the most appropriate thing she had available. She’d buckled a long knife around her waist that she usually used for chopping through brush to get to herbs tucked away in hard to reach thickets. Her face looked set in stone.

“Whaddya mean?” The guard gave Kirra a confused look, shifting to peer out the door. With a grunt of effort, he pulled the heavy door mostly closed, watching only through a narrow crack.

“I mean, poor Alvaranox puts himself in danger every time the collar calls him to protect Asterryl.” Kirra put her hand on the dragon’s neck for a moment. “He’s just decided to share a little of that danger with us so we better understand what he goes through.”

Alvaranox snorted, flicking his frilled ears back. “As amusing as I find that sentiment, I assure you that I’d rather none of us have to go through this.” The collar was still buzzing in his head. He reached up with his good paw, fidgeting with it. “How long will it take your man to fetch help?”

“Not more than a few minutes, hopefully.” Lightning lit the world in a brilliant blue-white glow for a moment. The guard cursed as rumbling thunder accompanied the land’s return to darkness. “Shit.”

“What?” Alvaranox hissed his question, tugging at the collar a little more.

“I see one,” the guard whispered. “Creeping along that new wall we’re building. Tough shot from here.”

“Are you alright?” Kirra asked the dragon, stroking his neck.

“Collar can go a little overboard on the warning,” the dragon said, licking his nose. He lowered his head a little, trying to peer through the crack in the door.

Kirra lifted her hands and placed them on the dragon’s collar. She traced the pads of her fingers over the raised images of the flying dragons that circled it. “Be calm,” she whispered to the collar. “You are frightening him. Help him instead. Help us!”

Alvaranox groaned, his copper eyes rolling back in confusion as Kirra’s words echoed in his head. He heard her voice in his ears, and through the collar he heard the words again. They rolled around in inside his mind, from one side to the other and back again, syllables jumbling up as they tumbled over each other while she continued to speak.

“Do not just blindly warn him. Show him the danger while he has a chance to focus on it! He is not your slave, he is your friend! Treat him as such.”

The guard glanced back at Kirra, unsure who she was talking to. Not that it mattered. Who really knew just how the dragon and his handler interacted? For all he knew she could hear the dragon’s thoughts. There were certainly enough rumors floating around after all. He had more pressing concerns. “I could try and take the shot. If I hit him, the others might not know it. But if I miss he’s gonna get into cover. Even if I do hit him, he’s gonna yell for help unless I can hit him in the throat. Maybe the rain will cover up his screams. What do you want me to do?”

Kirra gave the guard a baffled look. He was asking her? Probably used to taking orders and not so good at deciding things on his own. Or maybe it was because she was the dragon’s handler. Normally they’d send the dragon out to do the dirty work, but that wasn’t really an option. “Where are the others?”

“Not sure,” the guard replied, scowling.

“Sneaking around us,” Alvaranox said, his voice a drifting murmur.

The dragon closed his eyes, focusing on the flood of images the collar was suddenly sending him. It reacted to Kirra’s words by not only easing back on the nerve-wracking buzz but by filling his head with visions. One at a time, it showed all him all six men. They’d split up and some were now working their way out into the fields and lands beyond Asterryl. Each took a different path and moved at a different pace. The man that the guard spotted was still a ways off but one of the others was nearly upon them.

“Behind us,” the dragon hissed in alarm. He opened his eyes, then flared a green wing and flicked his wing-tip talon towards the back of the building. “Slipping through the grove of trees, coming up to the back of the building. He will reach us first.”

“Right,” the guard said. “There’s cover by your pet fish. I think I can ambush him. Wish me luck!”

For once, Alvaranox didn’t care about the P-word. He could always berate the man for suggesting he had a pet later, assuming they survived. As the guard slipped out into the rain and slunk around the side of the building, the dragon scowled. His stomach felt twisted into a nearly infinite series of knots, and now the painful clenching was extending into his bowels as well.

Alvaranox hated this. He felt helpless, relying on others for his protection. The fear the dragon felt was a strange, inescapable sort of terror he’d only experienced twice before. Once when he was sure he was bleeding to death and there was nothing he could do to stop the flow. The other time was when they’d bound him in Asterryl’s central plaza and put the collar around his neck.

The dragon feared for the guards. He may not care about those people but he did not want them to die on his behalf. Alv feared for himself. What cruel fate would let him nearly recover from his life-threatening injuries only to have him snuffed out in his own home? Even more than that, he feared for…

“Don’t be scared, Alv,” Kirra said, doing all she could to keep her own voice steady. “It’ll be alright, I promise.”

The dragon knew it was the sort of hollow promise people only offered when things might turn out badly. Yet it comforted Alv anyway. He lowered his head and unashamedly pressed it against Kirra’s body, whispering to her. “You are a fountain of strength whenever it is most needed, Kirra. Nylah was wise to choose you.”

Kirra wrapped her hands around the dragon’s wedge-shaped head, gently hugging him best she could. “I mean it! We’ll get through this.”

Alvaranox was not so sure, but that was not a debate he wanted to have. “How did you know? About the collar. As soon as you said that…”

Alvaranox didn’t have to finish. Kirra knew from the way he’d instructed the guard that the collar had done as she asked it, putting helpful images in the dragon’s head. “I didn’t. But it reacted to me before, so why shouldn’t it react to me now? I just thought, if anything could help us now it would be the collar.” She let one of her hands drift down the dragon’s neck until she touched the collar’s engraved surface. Hard as stone yet as warm as the dragon himself, slightly pliable like leather. As her fingers brushed it, waves of cold fear clutched her heart. She pulled her hand away, and the sensations faded as swiftly as they’d come. “I can feel your fear through it. Maybe…maybe I can use it to calm you…”

“No,” the dragon said sharply. “I don’t want you playing around with my mind, Kirra. It’s bad enough the damn thing’s mixing up my memories.”

“Of course,” Kirra said, swallowing hard. She hadn’t meant to imply anything unpleasant to the dragon. She just wanted to help.

For a few long moments, the two of them remained in silence. Kirra kept her arms around the dragon’s neck, stroking his green scales. She wanted to keep him calm. Her own fear was like a tightly caged beast held deep inside her. Kirra wasn’t even sure how she did it. Until the day she saw Alvaranox bloodied and dying, she’d never had to take charge like that before. She simply knew fear would cause her to hesitate and hesitation would lead to the dragon’s death. Now it was the same thing. She had to be strong for Alvaranox, and for herself, and for the guards out there risking their lives.

It was a strange concept, trying to be strong for a dragon.

“Bet you can’t wait till you’re healed so you can go out there and wreak havoc again yourself, right?” Kirra laughed a little bit, trying to keep the dragon’s spirits up.

Alvaranox only snorted. Every moment seemed to drag on longer than the moment before. He appreciated her attempt at levity, and did his best to share it. “I can tell you one thing.” He gestured to the bandage upon his belly that kept the stitches protected. “I don’t plan to let anyone stab me again.”

“Good,” Kirra said, smiling a little. “It’s a shame it turns out you dragons are just blood and guts inside your bodies. If you were all magic power and ancient spirits, being run through wouldn’t have even slowed you down.”

“I don’t even know where to begin with that, Kirra.”

A scream muffled by the cascading waves of rain and billowing wind drew their attention. Alvaranox tensed up, unsheathing all his claws. Kirra put her hand on the hilt of her knife, and drew the blade a few inches from its scabbard. For a few seconds, all they could do was hope that scream hadn’t come from the guard.

“If someone unfamiliar comes through that door, I am going to burn them,” the dragon whispered.

Kirra nodded. That might be risking the life of an unfamiliar guard, but that was a chance they were going to have to take. The dragon drew in a breath and held it, ready to bathe the doorway in flames if they anyone but a familiar face emerged from the rain. The doorway opened, and the dragon held his breath, ready to squeeze his fire glands.

“One down,” said the guard with the crossbow as he slipped through the doorway, easing it closed again behind him. He knelt down on the floor, and began to load another bolt. Water dripped from his cloak and added to the puddles on the floor. He glanced up at the woman and the dragon glaring at him. “What?”

“I almost burned you,” the dragon said, snorting. “You need a signal or something.”

“I’ll whistle next time,” the guard said, setting the bolt in place. “Hit him in the chest. Leather armor but the bolt punched right through it. He was still breathing but wasn’t gonna be calling out to anyone. Should be dead by now.”

“So…you killed him…” Kirra swallowed, turning her eyes away. She nudged the toe of her boot against the ground. She’d never been around when anyone was killed before. She tried not to think about the things Alvaranox had to do for Asterryl. She knew in her heart if she was called upon to take a life to defend another, she would do so without hesitation. She also knew it would haunt her the rest of her days.

“If he’s not dead yet, he will be in a few minutes.” He glanced up at the dragon. “Who’s next?”

Alvaranox shifted himself, opening a wing and pulling Kirra against his body. Kirra accepted the comforting embrace, stroking the dragon’s scales a moment. She looked up at the dragon, reaching towards his collar. “Do you need my help?”

“I think I can handle it,” Alvaranox said, though the sarcasm in his voice was outweighed by lingering fear.

Alvaranox called to the collar in his mind. Asked it to show him their enemies. To show him who was now the most immediate threat. The collar responded with dueling images. Alv saw flashes of two different men stalking towards his home through the rain. One of them was the same man who’d earlier been slinking along the stone wall that was still under construction. Now he was moving at a swifter pace through the meadow where Alv often lay in the sun. The other image showed a man who had taken a more circuitous route near the water-collection troughs for Stupid Fish’s tank.

“There’s one in the field across the way,” the dragon said to the guard. “And another near Stupid Fish.”

“I can only take one at a time with the crossbow,” the guard said, gesturing with the weapon. “Then I need a moment to set a new bolt, otherwise I’ll have to get in close with my sword.”

“Take the one in the meadow.” The dragon snapped his jaws, tossing his horned head. “No one gets near Stupid Fish.”

“Alv, you can’t…”

Alvaranox cut Kirra off. “You can dry me off and apply fresh bandages later, Kirra. The other three men still nearer the town. If he takes down the one in the meadow and I take the one by Stupid Fish, I should have plenty of time to get back here safely.” Alvaranox wasn’t entirely sure that was true, but he couldn’t just sit here doing nothing while one of his guards was out there risking his life. “Ready?”

“Ready.” The guard pulled the door open again and slipped out into the lashing rain.

Alvaranox followed behind the guard, flicking his flight membranes closed to keep the rain out of his eyes. The dragon did not have his foreleg sling on, so he had to hold his paw up against his chest as he moved out into the storm. Cold rain battered his scales and stung his wings in wind-driven waves. This was one of his more foolish ideas. He couldn’t even walk properly, let alone fight. Any element of surprise they may have had was muted when the man in the meadow saw the dragon emerge from his home. He yelled something to his companion, and Alvaranox limped around the side of the building. At least the dragon’s appearance would keep the men’s attention off of the guard.

Alvaranox snarled to himself. “Stupid dragon. What do you think you’re doing? Going to burn someone, that’s what. Yes, good idea.”

As the dragon moved along the side of his home, he spotted a crumpled body in the distance in a flash of lightning. The dragon turned his attention towards Stupid Fish’s barrel and the troughs around it. Earlier in the day the guards had to disconnect the water collection pipes. Then they covered the top of the trough with an oiled tarp to keep the rest of the rain out. Alvaranox was worried about Stupid Fish getting flooded out of the barrel. With his luck the fat silver bastard would find himself washed into some puddle that would dry up as soon as the sun returned. Hopefully the influx of cold water would not harm the fish.

Alvaranox hobbled towards the troughs and water collection funnels. Last he’d seen the human, he was near this area. The dragon looked from trough to trough. Were they big enough for a man to hide behind? No way in hell he was going to venture between them now. He’d had enough of being ambushed. The dragon shivered, a painful memory flashing in his mind. Sharp pain throbbed in his wound. Alvaranox stepped back as if afraid the man could somehow reach him with a blade from any distance. He grit his teeth. Now was not the time to let fearful memories take hold.

The dragon hobbled around the troughs in a wide circle, staying well out of stabbing range of anyone who may be hiding amidst them. The other troughs were all overflowing with the rainwater pouring into them. Thunder rolled through the air. The land smelled of rain and wet earth. Muddy puddles and little streams sloshed beneath Alvaranox’s paws. Already his bandages were soaked down to his stitches. At least he had Kirra here to deal with them. Like Stupid Fish’s health and the identity of his attackers, his bandages were something he could worry about later. For now, he had far more pressing concerns.

Like the man suddenly lunging out of the shadows between two troughs and rushing at the side of the dragon’s body with his blade. Wet steel flashed in a flicker of lightning, and the dragon reacted instinctively. He twisted himself a little and threw his weight back onto his hind legs, then lashed out with his front paw at the man coming up alongside him. Instead of sending the man flying through the air in a bloodied heap, Alvaranox found himself collapsing. In a moment that seemed to last hours, the dragon wondered what the hell was happening.

The splatter of cold mud all across his belly scales and the dull thud of pain ringing through his body reminded him of reality. He‘d been standing on three legs. He was so used to hobbling around that way now it was almost natural. The moment he flung his good paw at his attacker he’d fallen forward onto his chest. Instead of a well aimed strike with his claws he’d managed only an ineffective flailing as he flopped down into the mud. Even as his chest hit the ground his haunches remained raised, his hind legs still up. Probably looked like a muddy hatchling about to pounce something.

When the dragon hit the wet ground mud sprayed everywhere. Some of it splattered against the face of the man charging at him. The man screamed in surprise as the mud got into his eyes. Stumbling back, he blindly swung his sword through air, fending off a wounded dragon he could no longer see.

That was fine with Alvaranox. No sense letting the man get his sight back. The dragon sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing fire glands as he exhaled. Flames burst from the dragon’s muzzle, engulfing the would be dragonslayer. His scream died as soon as it began, cut off when fire seared his throat. The pouring rain hissed as it first evaporated around the burning man, then began to quell the flames. The damage was already done and already fatal. The man dropped his sword, stumbled, writhed in the mud a little and then went still.

Alvaranox grunted in pain, pushing himself back up onto his good paw. Water and thick globs of mud dripped from his belly to splatter against the puddles below. Hopefully no one saw his not-so-graceful battle, such as it was. Still, victory was victory. If anyone else saw it, he’d just tell them he did that on purpose. Yes, belly flopping into the mud was simply a distraction tactic.

Alv pivoted when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He squeezed his fire glands, readying more flame. Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the increasingly familiar guard for a moment. He was busy loading a bolt into his crossbow, checking to make sure the dragon was alright. Alvaranox growled, deciding against telling the man he’d almost been burned alive for the second time. Instead he simply hissed at Stupid Fish’s trough.

“Almost burned him again.” He rapped his claws on the wet tarp covering Stupid Fish’s barrel. “You stay safe in there, Fish.”

Alvaranox limped back to his home. The guard slipped through the large doorway first, moving aside so the dragon could follow him in.

“Did you get him?” Alvaranox glanced at the drenched guard as he eased through the door, paws slapping against growing puddles on the floor. “I didn’t hear a scream.”

“Got him in the throat,” the guard replied, setting his bolt. “Luck more than anything. Yours?”

“Dead,” Alvaranox said, not wanting to elaborate more than that.

“So that’s three left, right?”

“As far as I know.”

“What happened?” Kirra rushed to Alv’s side with towels and fresh bandages. She paused when she good a better look at the dragon. She’d lit a small lantern inside the dragon’s home. The assassins already knew they were awake, no sense feigning slumber now. “You’re covered in filth!”

Alvaranox glanced down at himself. The rain had already rinsed much of the mud from his body but much more yet remained. Wet globs of it splattered the floor of his sleeping chamber. Rainwater tinted brown by the muck sluiced along his belly and down his limbs. Alvaranox snorted and pinned his ears. “I went to play in the mud.”

“Did you fall? Where do you hurt?”

“I’m fine, Kirra,” Alvaranox said, a little too quickly. “You can inspect me later. Save the fresh bandages till then.”

Kirra scowled but did not argue with the dragon. Alvaranox did not think she was simply giving into him the way she used too. She probably just realized the dragon was right. It was prudent to wait. No sense fussing over getting him clean and dry if he had to go back out to kill more men.

Kill more men.

Alvaranox was used to killing for the collar. Perhaps dragons were more naturally attuned to killing. He sometimes regretted the painful ways his enemies died, yet rarely did he dwell or fixate upon it for long. Their screams rarely haunted his dreams. He had killed many men for the collar in his long decades serving Asterryl. Yet something about this felt different. The collar had not sent him out to kill these men. These men had come to Asterryl to slay him. That made the second time in a month that men organized an attempt to take his life. The dragon feared something else was going on, something beyond bandits and dragonslayers.

Alvaranox feared the collar had opened a door not even a dragon had the strength to close.

He’d worry about that in the morning, if he saw it. By now the worst of his fear had ebbed away, replaced by a growing pulse of heart-quickening adrenaline. Venturing out into the rain to kill a man trying to claim his life helped with that. Alvaranox would never consider himself a monster, but battle was in a dragon’s nature. Adrenaline came easily to their kind, sharp enough to cut through any fearful cloak that might wrap a dragon’s heart.

Kirra, however, was not a dragon. Alvaranox looked down at her a moment, and his racing heart sank on her behalf. The red haired woman managed the rare feat of looking both calm and terrified. She was ready to do whatever she had to do to protect herself and the dragon. She gripped the handle of her knife tightly, and Alvaranox knew the blade would not shake if she had to draw it. Yet while her jaw was set, her green eyes were wide. Her eyes were the only part of her that trembled, the only betrayal of her deeper fear that lay inside her.

Kirra had seen the dragon through his darkest times and pulled him back from the edge of death. Kirra had seen men taken by sickness and age. Yet for Kirra, this was the first time she’d ever seen men slain by bolt, and fire. This was the first time she’d ever watched men die.

This was the first time her own life had ever been in danger.

Alvaranox pitied her a moment. She was losing her innocence by the moment.

Normally the dragon would hardly call a woman like her innocent. He knew some of the things she did with men she fancied, some of the things she playfully teased about doing for him when she’d had a bit to drink and Nylah wasn’t around. She’d even spotted the dragon at an awkward time or two when he was half awake and more exposed than usual. That was not the sort of innocence the dragon was considering.

Kirra was losing her innocence to the blood shed for the collar. For Asterryl. Kirra had seen the dragon bleeding out and she knew in a detached way that he killed for the collar. But this was the first time she had been around him when he did so. Until now she remained shrouded by an innocent veil to what the collar made the dragon do. Now that innocence was shattered as men lay dead all around them.

Alvaranox opened a wing and wrapped it tightly around Kirra. She squeaked in surprise as he hugged her up against the green scales of his side. He lowered his wedge-shaped head, his copper eyes flickering like haunted spirits dancing in the lamplight. He did not want this for Kirra. Just as he had grown to trust her, so too he had grown to care for her as a friend. Not that he’d admit it.

Alvaranox knew Kirra thought of him as a friend as well. She deserved better than to have men trying to murder her friend in her own town. She deserved better than to have to see that friend forced to shed blood. She should not have to watch men die.

“I’m sorry, Kirra,” Alvaranox said. The dragon’s voice did not come easily. It was raspy, heavy with unexpected emotion. “You should not have to be part of this.”

Kirra hugged herself against Alvaranox’s side. Her own voice trembled, and while she sheltered under his wing, she tried to hide the fact she was wiping her eyes. Alvaranox saw her doing so but pretended he did not. “Don’t you apologize to me, you mud-crusted newt! You didn’t call these men here! This isn’t your doing. None of this is your fault.”

Kirra pulled back a little bit, thrusting an accusing finger at the black collar that ringed the dragon’s neck. “That isn’t your fault either. So don’t you ever apologize to me for anything it makes you do.” Kirra moved around to stand in front of the dragon, pressing her hand to the mud dappled plates of his chest. “You’ve a kind heart under all that armor, and nothing the collar makes you do can change that.”

Alvaranox lowered his head to press his nose against her forehead. “I am not so sure you are right, Kirra, but I appreciate you saying so.” Alvaranox sighed to himself. “Are you alright? I did not wish you to be exposed to this.”

“No,” Kirra admitted, stroking the wet green scales of the dragon’s jaw line. “I am not alright, but I will be in time. If you can deal with this for so many years, I can certainly find a way to do the same.”

Alvaranox decided against reminding her that in all his years as Asterryl’s Guardian Slave, this was the first time anyone had come here to try and kill him. Instead he just offered her a purr he hoped was soft enough that the rain would wash the sound away before the guard at the door heard it. The dragon glanced towards the guard, who shrugged. No sign of the other three yet. Alvaranox nuzzled Kirra a moment longer and then pulled away, calling to the collar in his mind.

Where? Where are they? Show me the other three you cursed thing.

Images popped into the dragon’s mind. One rain-soaked panorama replacing another, and another. He saw all three men. One crouched behind the trunk of an enormous willow. The rain soaked boughs hung all around him, hiding him from all but the most discerning eye. Alvaranox supposed it would be too much to ask to have lightning simply strike the tree and kill the man for him. Another man was hunkered down nearby, behind a half-built wall stacked with freshly quarried limestone blocks. The third was edging away from the first two, creeping along the willow-bough fence that surrounded the dragon’s meadow.

“There’s one moving along the willow fence, but he’s a ways off yet.” Alvaranox licked at the golden spot on the end of his nose. “The other two are holding positions in cover. I don’t know why, unless they’re hoping I’ll come to them.” His belly throbbed in objection to that idea. “Which I sure as hell won’t be doing again.”

“Cover?” The guard glanced up. “Where?” When the dragon explained, the guard scowled beneath his hood. Strands of soggy brown hair hung from within the oiled green and black cowl. “Probably setting up an ambush for my friends. They ought to be coming down the nearby road any moment. Could you see if either of them have bows or crossbows?”

Alvaranox shook his head. “No, but I could try. I am…unused to asking for this sort of detail. Usually the collar just shows me where I need to go, and who I need to kill.”

The dragon pinned his frilled ears back against his wet head. If only he’d asked for greater details like this the day he was injured, he wouldn’t limping around today. A shame it took such a grievous wound to teach the dragon what else the collar could do. For the last few decades he tried to interact with the damn thing as little as possible, tried to forget it was even there as often as he could. Now he was relying on a curse to keep Kirra and himself alive.

“Let’s just assume they do,” the guard said, leaning his crossbow up against the wall. “I’m going to ring our warning bell.”

“You mentioned something about a bell earlier.” Alvaranox sat on his haunches near the entryway to open the door for the guardsman. Fresh waves of rain lashed through the opening.

“When we set up this station outside your house, we thought we might need a way to call to each other quickly if there was an emergency.” He shook water from his cloak as if it wasn’t about to get soaked all over again. “Didn’t use it earlier because we didn’t want them to know we were aware of them. Hopefully now it will keep my friends from walking into an ambush.”

The guard dashed through the rain and pushed his way through the tarp walls surrounding the hastily-constructed guard station. For a moment his form was silhouetted against the tarp. When he extinguished the lantern inside the shadowy outlines vanished, preventing him from being an easy target. A moment later the sharp, brassy sound of a bell rang out from inside the shelter. It was followed up by two more loud tolls. The dragon pinned his ears back at the sound, it reminded him too much of the bell that rang in his own head.

The guard soon emerged from the shelter, the heavy looking bronze bell in one hand and a little brass hammer in the other. “Three rings means be wary of danger,” the guard said as he entered the dragon’s home again. “Or at least I think that was the code. We just made it up.”

“I don’t suppose you have a number of rings that says watch out for a man hiding behind a tree and another behind a wall, do you?” Alvaranox flicked his tail, glancing back at Kirra as he pushed the door closed. Kirra was nervously drumming her fingers against the hilt of her knife and peering out the window. “Or perhaps a number of rings that says, someone slap Kirra on the ass?”

Alvaranox wasn’t sure whose expression was more comically startled, Kirra’s or the guard’s. The guard stammered a bit. Unlike Kirra he didn’t seem to realize the dragon was only jesting. “Wh…what?”

“Just trying to ease the tension a little,” the dragon said, grinning at Kirra.

Kirra smiled for a moment, stuck her tongue out at Alvaranox, and then turned back to the window. Then she wriggled her rump at Alvaranox. The dragon blinked, snorted, and tossed his head. As if he cared to stare at the haunches of humans.

“Tease.” Maybe he cared a little.

Once more the guard couldn’t quite tell who was joking and who wasn’t. He looked back and forth between the dragon and the woman till Alvaranox started laughing, flaring up his spines in amusement. He shook his wings out, a few lingering droplets of water flew off them. As Alvaranox folded his wings back against his body, he grinned at the guard. Finally the man threw his hands up as if deciding it was in his best interest not to ask. Whatever dragon and handler did together was not his business. If it took some kind of seductive witchcraft to keep his town safe, so be it.

The guard picked his crossbow up again, crouching down near the door. “Open the door a hair, will you Dragon?”

Alvaranox cracked the door open, a thin layer of rain and wind lashed through the small opening. “I have a name you know, Human.”

“Oh?” The guard sounded at first surprised, and then sheepish. “I mean…of course you do. Wh-what is it?”

“None of your damn business,” the dragon said, smirking.

The guard blinked, unsure how to take that. Until today, he’d never really interacted with the dragon aside from a few simple greetings, or to deliver some gift from the townsfolk. He tried to think back. Hadn’t he heard the handlers use the dragon’s name? “Isn’t it…Al…Alv-something?”

The dragon growled low in his throat. “If we are all still alive tomorrow, I shall tell you then. So long as you promise not to tell anyone else.”

“Since when are you so protective of your name?” Kirra looked back at the dragon over her shoulder, quirking a red brow.

“Since right damn now,” Alvaranox replied, thumping his tail against the floor. The spines scratched the wood.

“Well I’ve been going around telling everyone I know your real name.”

“You’d better not have-”

Screams muffled by rain suddenly drew everyone’s attention. Alvaranox moved towards the door, and Kirra stood on her tip toes, looking out the window. “Who was that?”

“One of ours, I think,” the guard said, fear creeping into his voice. “I can’t see from here.”

A moment later there was another scream, louder than the first. Almost immediately the sound of someone calling out orders rose just above the rain. Alvaranox dragged the claws of his good paw along the floor, hissing. “I think your friends just found that ambush. I should be out there helping them.”

“We both should,” the guard said, looking up at the dragon. “But you’re in no condition for a prolonged fight, and I’d be an easy target running across that meadow. Still, maybe we can make a good distraction. Where’s the one that was near the fence?”

Alvaranox focused a moment, calling to the collar to once more show him their enemies. Willow boughs appeared in his mind, assembling themselves into the framework of a familiar partition. A heartbeat later and a field of wet grass stretched out across his vision. The bright colors of the wildflowers were all washed out by the silvery gray shades of the rain-soaked night. Pine boards flickered in view, piecing themselves together into a bench. A man crouched behind it, nocking an arrow in a bow.

“In the meadow. Behind the bench. Looks like he’s preparing to act as a sniper against your men.”

“Damn,” the guard cursed, then glanced at the dragon. “Let’s see if we can take him first, without getting an arrow in the face ourselves.”

The dragon snorted. He rather liked this guard’s attitude. “Good idea.”

As soon as the dragon spoke the collar buzzed around his neck. Alvaranox clutched his head a moment. The sound and sensation rattled his skull. “No, wait. It’s not.”

He focused on the image again, and flickering pictures painted across his mind, like pages turning in a book. The two men who’d set up the ambush were moving from hidden spot to hidden spot, taking potshots at the group of guards who’d come to assist the dragon. Every time the guards took up a new position, or dragged off an injured man, the assassins moved again before they could be properly located. Meanwhile, the man behind the bench had turned his attention towards the building with the crouched dragon carved upon its door. He began to advance, arrow nocked and aimed at the entryway.

“He’s coming here.” Alvaranox nudged the guard with his head, pushing him back. “Stay away from the door, he’s ready to shoot anyone comes through.”

The guard nodded, moving back from the door. “Right. So we wait for him to lower his bow, and try to slip the door open. Then I pop him in the face with my crossbow, or run him through.” He glanced around the room. “Do your windows open? I could slip through a window.”

“A moment,” the dragon said, hissing. “He’s…advancing right towards the door. Probably has poison on his arrow, hoping he can slay me in a single shot.”

Kirra bit her lip. “You should be inoculated against every poison. Well, at least the poisons we know of and can inoculate against. If its something from some faraway land we might not have seen it before.”

“Thank you, Kirra,” the dragon said, tossing his head. “That was almost comforting.” He reached out, opening the door a crack so that a little lamplight shone through.

“What are you doing?” Asked the guard, moving to close the door.

Alvaranox stopped him. “Giving him a chance to think he can nudge the door open with his boot, or fire an arrow at anyone waiting to ambush him on the other side of that crack.”

“Why the hell would you…”

Without further explaining, the dragon raised his voice, wanting the man creeping towards them to hear it over the rain. “Kirra! Quickly! Stand on the other side over there with your knife at the ready. As soon as he comes inside, stab him!”

Alvaranox flared his black and grin wing, blocking Kirra off from the entry. He didn’t want her to think he really wanted her to stand in harms way. Then he flicked the talon at his wingtip towards the guard as well, urging him to back away.

“What are you-”

“I never liked this door much anyway.”

“Alvaranox!” Kirra hissed through grit teeth. “If you’re going to do what I think you’re doing to do…”

“Probably am,” the dragon muttered.

“You could injure yourself! If you even think about it, I will kick you in the stones, Dragon!”

“I should hope you’ll at least wait to see if we survive or not.” He splayed his ears out, flaring his crests, then smirked. “You know, if you keep talking like that, you’re going to end up treating me like Nylah after all.

“I’m starting to see the benefit to her methods!” Kirra glared at the dragon, but went silent as he began to focus himself.

The collar sent moving pictures into his mind. He watched the man with the bow creep ever closer. As he drew near the building, Alvaranox took a few steps back, lowering his head. Kirra scowled, glaring at the dragon as though she couldn’t decide whether to wish him luck or make good on her threat before he had a chance to do anything crazy. As soon as the assassin was standing just outside the door, Alvaranox put his plan into action.

It wasn’t much of a plan, really, but it was all he had. The dragon rushed forward with all the admittedly less than impressive momentum he could manage on three paws, and hurled himself at the door. He leapt forward, using powerful hind legs to propel himself through the air, and threw his horned head against the door like a battering ram. Hinges that were sturdy by human standards shattered easily under the might of even an injured dragon. The door itself cracked as it exploded out of its frame. Freed from broken hinges the door nearly became a projectile, smashing straight into the bow-wielding assassin. The door knocked him backwards, he cried out as he stumbled and fell only to find the broken door falling atop him.

The dragon was next. His head ringing, skull aching, the dragon continued to surge forward. Knocking the door off its hinges had hardly slowed his momentum and as it collapsed atop the stricken man, Alvaranox leapt onto it. The dragon’s full weight was far more than a human’s body could bear. A series of sickening crunching sounds accompanied a strangled cry of agony that lasted a few moments longer than the dragon would have liked. Alv felt the battered door shifting as bones were crushed beneath it. He kept his weight upon it till he was sure the man was dead. Then he tipped his horned head back, roaring his victory to the angry skies.

The skies answered with lightning and thunder.

“What the hell was that?!” The guard inside the dragon’s sleeping chamber cried.

“A distraction,” the dragon snarled back at him. If that hadn’t given their friends a chance to regroup against distracted enemies, nothing would.

“Alv, you addle-minded lizard!” Kirra screamed at him from inside the house. Now she definitely sounded like Nylah. “You could have broken your damn neck!”

“Didn’t seem very likely at the time,” Alvaranox said, climbing off the shattered door, trying not to think about the mess that no doubt lay beneath it. He quickly hobbled back into the building. “Handler, I require a new door.”

Alv half-expected Kirra to grab his ears like Nylah and twist them till he was squealing for mercy. Instead she threw her arms around his wet neck when he lowered his head, hissing into his ear. “You dumb idiot. You scared me half to death! You’re lucky you didn’t crack your skull or break your horns off!”

“I think dumb idiot is a bit redundant, Kirra,” the dragon said, chuckling to himself. “That leaves two of them, and with any luck your own people will finish them off.”

While the dragon and handler embraced, the guard peeked through the now wide open doorframe. Lightning flashed and gave him a decent view across the meadow. He shifted his crossbow, trying to track a target. At long distance it was tough through the rain. “Looks like it worked, dragon. Your door-battering and roar must have distracted them enough for our men to advance. Looks like a pitched battle going but they should be able to bring the other two down. I can see one trying to get back into cover.”

“The sooner they kill them the sooner I can get back to sleep,” the dragon said, offering Kirra a halfhearted smile.

Alvaranox doubted he’d get any sleep now. Too many questions to roll over inside his own head. Survival was wonderful, but he was less fond of all the uncertainty that came with it. And when Nylah woke and heard what was happening she’d be out here in an instant. Hopefully she wouldn’t try and pin all this on him. Something else occurred to him. They’d heard screams earlier.

“I hope your friends are alright,” the dragon said, lowering his voice. Alvaranox did not want to come off as condescending, or make it seem as though the guards lives were an afterthought to him. If they’d died, they’d died protecting him. The moment he realized that it began to weigh upon his heart. People had died because of him, but they’d always brought it upon themselves by endangering Asterryl. No one had ever died for him, before.

“I don’t think they…well…” The guard didn’t want to say it. His voice trembled a moment, the crossbow shook in his grasp before he steadied himself. “I hope they are too.”

It was clear enough that the guard did not think they’d all survived. Right now he was probably just fighting the urge to start thinking about which friends he may have lost, and which may have survived. Uncomfortable silence settled in amongst them. The fearful silence it had a growing oppressiveness to it, drowning out even the rain and the storm until the dragon could hear nothing at all.

Only when it seemed they were finally safe was the silence broken. The guard leaned his crossbow against the wall, heaving a sigh. “I think that’s the last of them. I’ll stay here with you, until we know for sure. Then…then I…”

Alvaranox knew what he was thinking. Then I have to go see how many friends I lost.

Guilt dragged the dragon’s heart towards the floor. Men had died tonight, and they had died for him.

The dragon settled on his haunches near the guard, and reached out with his front paw. He gently placed it upon the man’s shoulder, squeezing him in what he could only hope was a comforting gesture.

“My name is Alvaranox. I would be honored to have you use it.”