Three Colors

The first thing Jandar noticed was that it was not a dragon.

The second was that this did very little to make him feel better.

The creature came through the doorway low and fast, blue scales gleaming beneath Xil's light. Its shoulders nearly reached Deacon's waist, and heavy claws struck sparks from the stone as it charged. A thick tail whipped behind it, while the broad, armored head at the front looked entirely capable of biting a man in half.

Jandar knew what dragons looked like. Everyone did. Children who had never seen the ocean knew what dragons looked like. They were painted on shields and carved into ancient gates. Their bones hung in royal halls. Songs remembered them long after the world had apparently forgotten how to make new ones.

This was smaller. Wingless.

And familiar.

“Guard drake!” Vegon shouted.

Jandar had already raised his crossbow. He fired as the creature crossed the chamber, striking it high in the shoulder. The bolt lodged between the blue scales but did little to slow it.

“Oh, good.”

He dropped the crossbow and drew his rapier.

Deacon stepped forward to meet the charge. The drake's jaws snapped shut where his arm had been an instant earlier, and Deacon answered by driving his blade across the creature's neck. The strike scraped scales instead of cutting deeply, but it turned the beast's head long enough for Zook to put an arrow beneath its foreleg.

Jandar saw the opening.

He slipped past Deacon and drove his rapier between two scales behind the drake's shoulder. The creature screamed and twisted. Jandar pulled the blade free just before its tail swept through the space where his legs had been.

“Too slow.”

“Stop talking to it,” Deacon said.

“It started this.”

“It hasn't said anything.”

“It has a tone.”

Pale light flashed over Jandar's shoulder and struck the drake across the side of its face. The creature recoiled, giving Deacon room to reset his stance.

Jandar smiled.

Months ago, a fight like this would have begun with five people making five different decisions and discovering, usually through injury, that nobody else had made the same one. Now Deacon became the wall without being asked. Zook found his angle. Xil stayed where he could reach whoever needed him, while Vegon searched for whatever impossible solution happened to be available.

Jandar went where the trouble was worst.

He rather liked his job.

Something slammed into him from behind.

Jandar pitched forward, struck the stone with one shoulder and nearly lost his rapier. He rolled instinctively, expecting to find the blue drake somehow behind him.

Instead, green jaws snapped shut inches from his face.

“Another one!”

Zook's warning arrived slightly late.

Jandar kicked himself backward as the second drake advanced through the doorway they had entered. It was nearly the size of the first, its scales dark green beneath Xil's light. More importantly, it now stood between the party and the way they had come.

“Vegon!”

“I see it.”

“Excellent!”

The green drake lunged.

Jandar got his blade up, but the force of the creature's head drove him backward. Its jaws snapped again, catching the edge of his coat as he twisted away. Fabric tore from shoulder to ribs.

Jandar looked down at the damage.

“That coat was expensive.”

“Jandar!” Deacon shouted from across the chamber.

“Yes?”

“Focus!”

“I am focused!”

The drake lunged again, and this time Jandar slipped aside cleanly. He slashed across its jaw as it passed and saw dark blood appear between the scales.

The creature turned toward him.

Behind it stood Vegon.

That was less encouraging.

The wizard had both hands raised, magic already gathering between them, but the green drake seemed to notice him at exactly the wrong moment. Its head lowered.

Jandar knew that posture.

“Vegon!”

The drake charged.

Vegon began casting.

Too slowly.

Jandar crossed the space between them and struck the drake across the snout. The blow did almost nothing except make the creature angry, which was precisely the point.

Its eyes shifted from Vegon to him.

“There. Much better.”

It charged Jandar instead.

He immediately reconsidered the wisdom of the plan.

Jandar backed away as the drake snapped at him. “Any time, Vegon.”

“I was casting before you interrupted.”

“I saved your life.”

“You distracted my target.”

“Your target was about to eat you.”

“That does not make it less distracting.”

Jandar sidestepped another bite, and the drake's shoulder struck one of the statues hard enough to crack stone. A chunk broke away and shattered on the floor.

He looked at the statue, then at the drake.

“Could you do that again?”

The drake roared.

“I'll take that as a yes.”

Vegon's spell finally arrived. A series of bright bolts streaked past Jandar and struck the green drake one after another. It staggered sideways.

Jandar glanced back at the wizard. “See? Teamwork.”

Vegon looked offended by the word.

The blue drake roared behind them.

Jandar risked a glance across the chamber.

Deacon was still holding it, although “holding” had become a generous description. The creature's claws scraped across his armor as he turned with the impact and drove his weapon down against its shoulder. Zook's next arrow struck almost simultaneously, and Xil darted close enough to touch Deacon before retreating again. Warm light spread beneath the fighter's armor.

Deacon straightened and slammed an armored forearm into the side of the drake's head when it tried to bite him.

Jandar grinned.

There were people who fought beautifully. Jandar considered himself one of them. There were people who fought intelligently, a category Vegon would certainly claim if anyone asked him.

Deacon fought as though the world had personally offended him by refusing to fall over.

It was remarkably effective.

The green drake's tail caught Jandar across the ribs.

For half a heartbeat, the chamber vanished. When it returned, he was on the floor several feet from where he had been standing, struggling to convince his lungs to work again.

The drake advanced.

Jandar raised his rapier.

“I am beginning to dislike you.”

Its head lowered.

An arrow struck the side of its neck.

The drake jerked toward Zook, and Jandar used the distraction to roll beneath its jaws and regain his feet. His ribs protested violently, but nothing seemed broken enough to matter.

Yet.

The drake turned back toward him.

Jandar met it with steel.

He stopped trying to overpower the creature because that would have been stupid, and despite what Deacon occasionally implied, Jandar was not stupid. He watched the shoulders instead. Every lunge began there. Every turn telegraphed itself through the heavy body before the jaws or claws followed.

He stepped where the creature was not looking and struck where the scales separated. When it turned, he moved with it. When the tail swept low, he got over it badly but successfully.

The drake grew angrier.

That made it less careful.

Jandar could work with angry.

Then Zook ran directly into it.

For a moment Jandar thought the gnome had slipped.

Zook's sword flashed.

The blade opened a wound along the drake's foreleg, and the creature snapped downward at the smaller target. Zook ducked beneath its jaw.

Jandar understood.

He stepped in from the other side and drove his rapier into the wound beneath its shoulder. The drake shuddered. Zook struck again.

The green creature collapsed between them.

Jandar pulled his blade free and looked at Zook.

“You could have warned me.”

“You talk too much.”

“I was distracting it.”

“You were losing.”

“I was dramatically delaying victory.”

Zook wiped his blade.

“That's losing.”

Jandar decided not to dignify that with an answer.

Across the chamber, the blue drake was still very much alive.

They moved without discussion.

Jandar came in from one side while Zook circled the other. Deacon, blood running down one arm, kept the creature's attention in front. Xil remained behind him, while Vegon waited for an opening rather than throwing magic through three companions.

It was almost organized.

That realization struck Jandar harder than he expected.

Months ago, they had survived fights together. There was a difference between that and fighting together.

Deacon trusted Jandar to know when to move. Jandar trusted Deacon to hold his ground. Zook chose whichever opening the others created. Vegon no longer seemed personally offended when someone ruined the perfect angle for a spell. Even Xil had learned that healing Deacon before Deacon admitted he needed it saved considerable time.

They had paid for those lessons.

Sometimes in blood.

Often in arguments.

Usually both.

But they had learned.

The blue drake charged Deacon again. He stepped aside at the last possible moment, allowing its momentum to carry it past him.

Jandar was waiting.

His rapier slipped beneath the creature's front leg. The drake screamed and twisted toward him, exposing its throat.

Zook's arrow struck there.

The creature stumbled.

Deacon finished it.

For a few seconds, the chamber went still.

Jandar breathed hard and looked down at himself. His ribs hurt. His shoulder hurt. His coat was ruined, and there was enough blood on him that determining whose it was would have required more effort than he presently wished to expend.

Xil approached.

“Hold still.”

“I am fine.”

“You're bleeding.”

“I do that.”

“Hold still.”

Jandar obeyed.

Mostly because arguing required breathing.

Warmth spread through his side beneath Xil's hand. The sharpest pain eased, leaving behind a deep ache that felt much more manageable.

“I was handling it,” Jandar said.

“Of course.”

“I was.”

Xil had already moved on to Deacon.

Jandar looked at Zook.

“You saw that.”

“I saw you get hit with a tail.”

“Before that.”

“I saw you get hit with its head.”

“After that.”

Zook smiled.

Jandar pointed at him. “You are becoming very difficult.”

“I learned from you.”

That was unfair enough that Jandar had no immediate response.

Mills approached the dead green drake cautiously.

He had remained out of the fight, mostly. Jandar had noticed a short blade in the minstrel's hand at one point, which was something they would be discussing later.

Mills crouched beside the creature.

“So these are dragons?”

“No,” Vegon said.

The wizard knelt beside the blue drake, examining its scales with considerably more interest than Jandar thought the corpse deserved.

“Guard drakes.”

“They look like dragons.”

“They are draconic.”

Mills waited.

Vegon did not elaborate.

“Which means related to dragons?”

“Yes.”

“So they are dragon things.”

Vegon closed his eyes briefly.

Jandar put a hand on Mills's shoulder. “You're learning.”

“Do not encourage him.”

Jandar looked between the two bodies.

Blue.

Green.

He frowned.

Something bothered him.

“Where's the red one?”

Everyone looked at him.

Zook was first. “What red one?”

Jandar pointed at the bodies. “Blue. Green.”

“Yes.”

“It feels incomplete.”

Vegon stared at him. “There is no reason to assume—”

A growl rolled through the corridor behind him.

Jandar closed his eyes.

Deacon slowly turned toward him.

Jandar raised one finger.

“I acknowledge the unfortunate timing.”

The red drake charged.

It came from behind them, larger than the green or perhaps merely more offensive because Jandar had just begun to enjoy the possibility that the fighting was finished.

Everyone scattered.

The drake struck the place where Vegon had been standing, jaws snapping shut on empty air as the high elf threw himself aside with considerably less dignity than usual.

Jandar ran toward it.

“Leave him alone!”

The red drake turned.

Jandar slowed.

He had intended the statement more as encouragement than instruction.

Its tail whipped around.

Vegon ducked.

The tail struck the wall.

Stone exploded.

Fragments scattered across the floor as a section of carved masonry cracked from waist height almost to the ceiling.

Vegon stopped.

He stared at the damage.

The drake lunged at him again.

“Vegon!”

“Yes.”

“The thing trying to kill you!”

“I am aware of it.”

“You are looking at the wall.”

“I am aware of that too.”

Jandar intercepted the drake before it reached him. His rapier scraped across red scales, turning the creature just enough for Deacon to put a crossbow bolt into its shoulder.

The drake recoiled.

A second bolt followed.

Deacon was already reloading as he moved.

Zook's arrow missed.

Jandar glanced at him.

“Didn't see that.”

“I can shoot you.”

“You'd miss.”

Zook reached for another arrow.

“Children,” Xil said.

The red drake came at Jandar.

He met it alone for several heartbeats.

The noise of the chamber seemed to recede. There was only the creature in front of him and the familiar calculations that had kept Jandar alive long before he had met any of these people.

Distance.

Reach.

Weight.

The slight movement of the drake's shoulder before it struck.

He stepped inside the bite.

The jaws snapped behind him, close enough that he felt the air move against his hair. His rapier slid between scales. The drake twisted, and Jandar turned with it, dagger already in his other hand.

The creature recoiled.

Jandar followed.

“Jandar!” Deacon shouted.

“I have it!”

The drake's tail swept toward him.

Jandar jumped backward and watched it pass inches from his knees.

“I absolutely have it!”

Magic struck the creature from behind.

Jandar glared at Vegon.

“I said I had it.”

“You did not.”

“I did.”

“It was about to remove your legs.”

“Speculation.”

The red drake abandoned Jandar and charged Vegon.

Jandar sighed.

“See? Now you've upset it.”

Vegon raised both hands.

Magic gathered around him.

Then something changed.

Jandar had seen Vegon's spells fail before. Usually there was a sputter of light or a disappointing little flicker that suggested reality had politely declined whatever the wizard had requested.

This was different.

Power surged around Vegon in a pale flare, outlining him from head to foot. For an instant the entire chamber brightened.

Then the magic vanished.

Vegon blinked.

The drake reached him.

Its jaws snapped shut.

Vegon threw himself sideways.

The teeth missed.

The tail did not strike him either, but only because it struck the wall instead.

The damaged masonry shattered further.

A crack raced across the stone.

Vegon stared at it.

Again.

“Vegon!”

“I saw it.”

“I don't care about the wall!”

“I do.”

“Of course you do.”

Jandar went back to work.

He struck the drake across the neck and drew its attention away from the wizard. Deacon moved to the opposite side. Zook came in low.

This time nobody had to say anything.

Deacon drove the creature left.

Zook denied the right.

Jandar held the center.

When the drake tried to retreat, Vegon's spell finally found it. Magic struck across its back, and the creature screamed.

Jandar saw the opening.

So did Deacon.

The crossbow bolt hit first, high in the shoulder. The drake twisted toward the impact.

Jandar stepped inside its reach.

His rapier entered through the wound.

Deep.

The creature froze.

For one moment its weight remained upright against his blade.

Then Jandar pulled free.

The red drake collapsed.

Silence returned to the chamber.

This time nobody trusted it.

Jandar waited.

Zook waited.

Deacon kept the crossbow raised.

Xil watched the doors.

Vegon watched the wall.

Of course he did.

After several seconds, Jandar lowered his sword.

“Blue. Green. Red.”

Mills had his book out.

Jandar looked at him.

“What?”

“You said it felt incomplete.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“Did you write that down?”

“I write most things down.”

Jandar looked at Zook. “He is becoming a problem.”

“He follows you around.”

“That does not make him my problem.”

“It does a little.”

Mills ignored them and looked at the three bodies.

“Do you think Orozon made them?”

“No way to know,” Vegon said without turning away from the wall.

Jandar smiled.

“There it is.”

Mills continued studying the drakes. “Were there dragons when this place was built?”

The question quieted Jandar.

He looked at the red creature at his feet.

Dragons had existed.

Not merely in stories.

Not as symbols painted onto shields or bones hanging above thrones.

They had flown.

They had hunted.

They had burned cities.

People had looked into the sky and seen them.

Then, centuries ago, they had disappeared.

No one seemed to know why.

The creatures lying around them were not dragons. Jandar understood that.

But they were close enough to make the old stories feel less distant.

And this temple was old enough that whoever had built it might not have needed stories.

Perhaps Orozon had seen the real things.

Jandar found that thought considerably less interesting than Vegon probably would.

“Jandar.”

There was something in the wizard's voice.

Not fear.

Excitement.

That was usually worse.

Jandar turned.

Vegon stood beside the section of wall the red drake had damaged. The carved outer surface had broken away, exposing another layer of stone beneath it.

Jandar walked over.

“I hope you did not call me here to show me a wall.”

“No.”

“It appears to be a wall.”

“It appears to be.”

Jandar waited.

Vegon said nothing.

“You do realize conversations generally improve when both people participate.”

Vegon pressed his palm against the exposed stone and slowly moved it to one side.

Zook joined them.

“What?”

“Look at the crack,” Vegon said.

Zook looked.

“So?”

“It stops.”

Jandar examined it more closely.

Vegon was right. The impact had fractured the outer layer in several directions, but one of the cracks ended abruptly along a line too straight to be natural.

Deacon noticed it next.

He ran one hand over the stone.

“Door?”

“No hinges,” Zook said.

“No seam,” Xil added.

Vegon tapped the wall with his knuckles.

Solid.

He moved his hand several inches to the right and tapped again.

The sound changed.

Only slightly.

But enough.

Zook heard it too.

“Hollow.”

Vegon smiled.

Jandar knew that expression.

It meant the wizard had found something old.

Frequently something dangerous.

Almost always something Jandar would eventually be required to enter.

“Vegon.”

The high elf ignored him and began examining the stone more closely.

“Vegon.”

“What?”

Jandar pointed at the wall.

“Please tell me you are not about to say something dramatic.”

Vegon's smile widened.

“It isn't a wall.”

Jandar sighed.

Of course it wasn't.