Sam Kowal

Tem stomped over a rocky outcropping and surveyed the camp in the crater below him. Half a dozen tents thrown in place around crooked frames. A row of ballistae next to a stack of tarped man-size spears. A dozen men, gathered around a blazing fire and laughing uproariously at one another’s jokes.

“You should go and join them,” Qia urged, her boots clacking on the stone as she emerged from the dusk. “They’re your men, Tem. You need to stop hiding!” Exasperation laced her words.

Tem scuffed the rock, sending a pebble echoing down into the crater.
“I’m not hiding,” he countered, glancing at his deputy captain. “I’m just thinking.”

“About what?” Qia stepped in front of him.

“We’ve got a raid tomorrow,” Tem huffed, sidling past her. “Raids on dragon nests, in case you haven’t noticed, take a bit of planning to get right.”

“So? Go talk about the raid with your team.”

Tem slid over a slab of tilted stone and nearly lost his balance, catching himself with a gloved hand. A hot breeze lurched through the air, like the gasp of a dying dragon.

“You need to stop letting the past failed raids make you angry, Tem. Ever since we lost that last dracc, you’ve been distant towards the men. And me.” Qia looked down at her boots. “There’ll be more dragons for us to successfully hunt in the future. Let the ones inside your head go, okay?”

Tem was silent for a moment. “We’re not successful enough at hunting, Qia.” He didn’t wait for her response, but could picture her pursing lips in the shadows. Tem shuffled to the edge of the crater and descended a ramshackle ladder down inside the camp.

“Tem, sir, we’ve saved a bit ’o supper for you,” Coggins smiled brightly, pressing through two tents with a piece of meat on a spit. “Came out right nice, if I say so myself. Give it a try.” Coggins wiped his hands on his apron.

Tem took the meat wordlessly and bit into it. Savory juices filled his mouth. Coggins looked expectantly at him.

“Are we ready for tomorrow?” Tem asked impassively.

Coggins wiped his brow and nodded. “Aye, cap’n. Provisions is taken account for, and bandages and whatnot. We’re ready.”

Tem stepped past Coggins and headed to the fire where the men laughed. Fors was telling a story, waving his stick of meat wildly in the air.

“My mother,” he gesticulated, “Used to make food that could come alive. Little breadstick soldiers. You could feel ’em wriggle around in your mouth.”

The men burst into laughter.

“Them was mice she was feedin’ you, Fors,” Shogg cut in. “They was alive in the pot.”

“And she’d cover ‘em with breadcrumbs,” Gaz added. “I always knew you were loony, Fors.”

Tem stomped to the center of the circle, and the men hushed. Tem drew in a deep breath, preparing to speak.

The fire crackled. Fors glanced at Tem. Rubbing his hands together, Gaz cleared his throat.

“We’ve got a raid tomorrow, men,” Tem said, looking at each one in turn. “It’s a dracc, a big one. She might have a clutch of eggs with her. We’re going to make a king’s fortune off her. So break up the party and head to bed. You’ll need all the energy you can get tomorrow.”

One of the men trembled by the outskirts of the fire. Tem squinted at him, inhaling the pungent wood smoke.

“You there!” he called. “What’s your name?”

The figure jumped. But it wasn’t a man; it was a boy no older than fifteen.

“Salka, sir,” the boy trembled.

“What’s the matter with you, Salka?” Tem stepped around the fire, glaring at him.

“No—nothing, sir.” Salka sat up straighter. “I’m fine. It’s just… a dracc, sir? It’s my first raid.”

Tem frowned. “So?”

“I’ve never fought a dragon before. And dracci are the most vicious breed there is, Fors told me.”

Tem spit into the fire. “You knew what you were signing up for, boy. Dracci make more money than any other breed, too.” He glared at Fors and stalked away from the fire.

Salka had been a desperate last measure of a recruit. Tem should have known he’d be spineless. With Tem’s luck, Salka would ruin the coming raid.

The next day

Wyrmwaste wasn’t hard to navigate, provided you knew what you were looking for. The eroded slabs of stone either all muddled together, or, if one remembered their features, were infallible landmarks.

Tem was the only one who knew the way to the dracc nest they were attacking today, because none of the other men were brave enough to plan a raid on a dracc.

Behind him, each member of the band was laden with supplies they would need for the raid. The men had disassembled the ballistae so they could carry them. Other raiders hauled flasks of potions, and Coggins carried medical supplies for when raiders were invariably injured.

Tem scanned the horizon through his spyglass. The group was approaching the circle of rock spires known as the Ring of Fangs. The spires looked like ancient dragon teeth poking through the rock, and the dracc’s nest was somewhere inside.

Tem could hear the men talking, conversation muted but still cheerful. He scowled. Why couldn’t they think about the mission ahead for once?

“So you want to be a nature-list?” Fors asked. “Right smart of you, boy. I don’t fancy such a job my myself, though.”

“A naturalist,” Salka corrected. “I want to study dragons. That’s why I joined up. I was afraid, but I thought it’d give me a closer look at dragons.”

“If we’re successful, you’ll get a right close look at ’em,” Shogg grumbled.

“I want to see a dragon hatchling most of all,” Salka said. “A little one. I want to tame a dragon from birth. No one has ever done that before! Instead of killing them, we could befriend them.”

“Isn’t that an intriguing idea?” Qia said.

Tem whirled around. She had snuck up behind him, closer than he realized. “What?”

“Salka’s right,” she said, falling into stride beside him. “No one has ever tried to tame a dragon in the history of the dragonraiders. Why not? It’s an amazing thought.”

“Because dragons are wild beasts,” Tem said. “They have one purpose; to provide raw materials for us. Taming one is stupid.”

Qia closed her mouth and looked down at her feet. “Right,” she said. “Everything but slaying dragons is, for you. I forgot.”

Tem tucked his spyglass into his coat and turned back to the men.

“Right,” he called. “Everyone, stop. We’re almost there. Time to go over the plan.”

The men obeyed, easing their supplies onto slabs of stone.

“Okay,” Tem began. “You know the procedure for dragons like dracci. I’m confident this one’s in her nest. She’ll be tough to overcome, but not impossible.”

“What if she ain’t in her nest?” Gaz piped up. “If she’s up there in dem clouds, we’re mice under a hawk.”

Tem folded his hands together and paced back and forth. It was possible, of course. If the dracc was out of her nest, he and his men were dead. But it was unthinkable for them not to take the risk.

“She’s in her nest,” Tem replied.

The men were silent for a moment.

Then Salka spoke up, wiping his hair out of his face and taking a deep breath. “Tem, sir?”

Tem gazed at him. “What?”

“What’s the safety tag for this mission?”

The safety tag. The word that any member of the dragonraiding team could call out at any time during the raid, to signify mortal danger and the entire team to retreat.

Tem unfolded his hands and rubbed them together. Why was Salka piping up about that? The boy looked afraid to lace his boots.

“Men,” Tem said. “I’ve got an announcement to make. I meant to say it sooner. You all know how important this mission is. I’ve decided we’re going in this to win, and to win only. There’s no safety tag for this run.”

The men’s faces seemed to become stone.

“No safety tag?” Flors burst out. “That’s… you can’t do that, cap’n.”

Tem looked at the ground. “And why not?”

Shogg stood up. “You’re telling me,” he growled. “You’d risk the life of all these men for a bit o’ money?”

Tem looked up, balling his hands into fists. “Every time we make a run, someone panics and makes the call,” he retorted. “This dragonraiding team never gets anywhere.”

Light boots clacked on the stone. Qia appeared by Tem’s side. “You can’t abolish the safety tag, Tem.” She sounded weary.

Tem spun on her. “Then what do I do? I must, Qia. You know why. That recruit boy Salka’s going to call it as soon as he sees a fang. Why do you think he asked what it was going to be?”

“Limit how many people can call it,” she replied. “You, me, Flors, Coggins. That’s it.”

Tem sucked in a breath of sweltering air and rubbed his sweaty palms on his shirt. “Fine. That’ll work. Only call it if you must. Now I look weak in front of the men.”

He scowled. “I didn’t mean to say,” he retracted, “That the safety tag’s abolished completely. Qia, myself, Coggins, and… Flors will be allowed to call retreat, in case anyone is in mortal danger. I’m just not going to have any young upstart who likes calling off the mission.” He glared at Salka.

The men nodded, but didn’t say a word to Tem in reply. A few picked at their packs while Tem whispered the safety tag to his chosen team members.

“Right, then. Let’s be moving on.” Tem ordered, turning away from the group and setting his sights on the Ring of Fangs.

The trek to reach them seemed farther than it looked, seasoned as it was with sweat and cloistering heat, which pulled on Tem’s bones. The fangs of rock were taller than a man and spearpoints at the top.
Tem stomped through them. The markings in the stone leading toward the dracc’s crater nest would be faint, left there by the dragon’s claws as it climbed out of the crater to take flight, but that was one advantage to raiding a bigger dragon. They left deeper grooves in the stone.

Qia joined Tem in his search. She was usually the best tracker and followed the scratch-like gap in the stone through the Ring.

“I’ve got the trail,” she said quietly. “Here.”

“Really?” Tem stepped after her, examining the markings in the ground. “Yes. That’s it. Let’s move.” He stalked back to where the men were assembling the weapons, Qia in tow.

“Tem,” she asked.

“What?”

“If we get the dracc, are you going to be happy?”

“Of course,” he retorted. The men came into sight.

“No,” she said. “I mean really happy. Like you used to be—”

Tem shot her a scowl and dashed among the men, rousing them. “Let’s go, men,” he roared, snarling and working himself into a thirst for the fight. “We’re going out there to slay a dragon. And we will be successful.”

The men cheered as customary, raising fists towards the sky. Flors directed them to grab the ballistae, and the spring powered dart launchers scraped over uneven stone.

Tem dashed out deeper into the rock plain, his men charging behind him. Sweat ran down his face and into his eyes, but he pushed it away. The team reached Qia’s dracc trail and continued down it until they reached a crater. Near its edge, the rock crumbled and gave way to open air.

“Halt!” Tem shouted. He skidded to a stop, panting, and stepped slowly toward the edge of the rock. The crater was a deep bowl descending some jagged twenty feet. The dracc was probably in a tunnel it had carved underneath the stone. Tem began to circle the edge of the crater, looking for a telltale hole.
The men prepared for their assault. Some began immediately firing the ballistae darts, attached to cables, across the crater and securing them. The cables would trap the dragon inside its nest. Qia dipped ballistae darts in corrosive poison, and Coggins passed out harpoons in case of close combat.

Tem rounded the far edge of the crater, seeing no sign of a tunnel. He straightened up and ground his teeth together. Where was the dracc?

“Bait, Shogg,” he roared. The scruffy man scuttled over with a bag of fermented meat mixed with heavy drowsing potions. With any luck, it would lure the dracc out of hiding and make it lethargic.

Tem scanned his men. Six of them manned loaded ballistae pointed down into the crater. The other six were spread out, shaking harpoons and bags of poison, and Qia clutched more potions to her chest. All were ready except Salka, who was standing too close to the crater’s edge.

“Right,” said Shogg, waving the bag of meat. “D’you find any tunnels in there?”

Tem hunched over the edge of the crater once more, trying to spy a tunnel inside.

A gust of hot wind blasted the plain, carrying flecks of stone that bit Tem’s face. He reeled back and caught himself on the rocks, throwing his arms out to hold him in place. The men ducked, trying to secure themselves. Tem frowned. What was the wind about?

A shadow fell over them, like a storm cloud, black and engorged. Tem’s palms began to sweat. His stomach churned. Shaking, he forced himself to look up. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrenched his mouth open but couldn’t make himself speak. The men began shouting.

“Skyfall,” Qia screamed. “Skyfall, Skyfall, Skyfall…” The safety tag. How ironic the safety tag Tem had randomly come up with would actually predict death falling at the team from the sky. Skyfall.

Dizzy, Tem lurched across the stone slab, doubled over, and ran from the edge of the crater. The men holding the ballistae roared while cranking their weapons to change the angle of the shot towards the sky. It wasn’t fast enough.

“Let go!” Tem screamed. “Let go and run!”

The dracc swept the ballistae over the edge of the crater in a spray of splinters. The cables rang metallically as the dragon lashed through them and descended into the crater, taking Flors with it. The remaining men left the ballistae and fled away from the crater.

The dracc burst over the side of the crater and roared. A wave of air blasted Tem off his feet and sent him sprawling onto the stone clutching his ears. He rolled over, shouting, and tried to drag himself further away from the crater. The dragon raked its claws and pulled several more men into its grip.
Someone pulled him upright, and gasping, Tem straightened himself. Qia’s eyes were stony before him, and she clutched bags of poisons.

“Run!” Tem told her. She scanned the crater. “We’ve got to get Salka,” she said.

“What?” Tem gasped. “No. He’s dead, Qia. That beast took more than one of my men.”

Qia handed Tem a few bags of poison and sprinted to the crater’s edge. “He’s not dead,” she shouted back. “I saw him fall!”

Tem ran after her, the potion bags bouncing in his grip. The dracc’s spearpoint head, lined with sword-like teeth, reared over the edge of the crater again, spitting balls of flame. Qia swerved and threw one of her bags of poison. It hit the dracc and tore open, leaking corrosives over the monster’s scales. The beast roared again and slashed at Qia.

Tem threw his own bags with all his strength. They seemed to arc through the air as slow as falling feathers. The dracc lashed out at Qia again. Finally, Tem’s bags erupted in an oily spray over the dracc’s head, and it screamed. Tem charged straight at the beast.

Its face scales had begun to flake off, an effect of the corrosives. Tem glared into red eyes, daring it to strike. In the corner of his vision, he saw Qia running around the other side of the crater.

The dracc spat more fire at Tem, and he rolled onto the rock. His boots burst into flame, so he kicked wildly until it went out. A fistful of sawblade claws punched the air and sliced stone in a spray of chips.

Tem backpedaled, feeling his heart thunder inside his ribcage. He had faced dragons many times before. None of those weaponless. What was he thinking?

A serrated claw descended on him. Tem rolled to the side, soaked in sweat and screaming. The claw bit into his shoulder. Pain, hot as the dracc’s fire, undammed itself. Tem thrashed on the rock. The dracc stabbed at Tem again, then pulled away. Its head snapped toward something across the crater.

Panting, Tem scrambled upright. His jaw dropped away from his face. Salka, the scrawny recruit, was climbing over the crater throwing bags of poison at the dracc. He was screaming at the beast, panicked. A knapsack hung from his back.

Another bag of poison erupted through the air from the opposite direction, and Tem whirled to see Qia attacking from the other side. The dracc was truly enraged now, and it slinked both arms back out of the crater to pull itself fully onto the plain above.

Tem stood numbly by the edge of the precipice. “Run!” he ordered again.

Qia turned away, charging back across the plain. Salka followed her, clutching his knapsack. The dracc lashed at them.

Having no weapons, Tem picked up rocks from the ground and began throwing them at the monster’s decayed face. Then he turned and ran himself.

His feet were lead. He forced himself to run back to the Ring of Fangs before Coggins came and caught him, surrounded by the other men, who had come back for Salka and Qia. Coggins hastily bandaged Tem’s burning shoulder, then they pressed on.

The group charged through Wyrmwaste, stumbling over jagged outcroppings of rock and casting fearful glances skyward. Dracci were known to relentlessly hunt intruders. Tem shuffled onward with his fists clenched.

They had lost everything. Their equipment, medical supplies, potions that took months to concoct. And he had lost multiple members of the team, men he’d have to replace. Only their tents and some food were left at the crater camp. And it was all because of his mistake.

The fugitives rounded a cracked heap of stone and descended into a gulley, bones weary. Qia ran beside Tem. Salka was lagging. Tem turned back for a moment, chest heaving.  “Hurry up, boy,” he called. He frowned. “What’s in that sack of yours?”

Salka froze. His hands clutched the sack. “Sir?”

Tem gestured at the bag, and Qia slowed.

Salka set the knapsack down, knelt on the stone, and pulled it open. An animal chirp chittered through the air.

“It’s something I got at the dracc nest, sir,” Salka said. “I… I found it when I fell over the edge. The mother had thrown it on the rocks to die. It’s a runt, see.” Salka pulled the bag away and held up a beast for Tem to see.

It was an orange reptile, sagging scales stitched together with rows of ivory spikes. Two papery wings tucked under its ventral side, and a head with big eyes blinked at Tem. It chirped again.

Tem’s nostrils flared. “You,” he said. “You took the time to go into a dracc nest and steal a hatchling, while Qia and I risked our lives to save you?”

Salka trembled. “I fell over the edge,” he said. “And I found it. I couldn’t let it die… his name is Stan. I named him.”

“Kill it,” Tem ordered. “Now. We can’t feed a hatchling. Its mother will track us down via the hatchling’s scent and incinerate us. As soon it’s old enough to stand, it’ll attack us. Kill it.”

Salka clutched the hatchling, his hands quivering. When he spoke, his voice trembled. “I can’t just kill it,” he said. “I want to raise it. To study dragon offspring…”

“You don’t know that,” Qia said softly.

Tem turned to her. “What?”

“You don’t know if the mother can track it, or if it will attack us once it can stand. You don’t know that, because no one’s studied dragon hatchlings before. What if we could befriend it?”

Tem folded his arms. “We’re a dragonraiding team,” he replied. “We hunt dragons, Qia. Remember? I know we’ve done mighty little of that successfully, lately.” He turned to Salka. “Get rid of it,” he repeated.

Salka’s face turned white, and he clutched the baby dragon desperately. A strange light seemed to burn in his eyes, silent, yet brighter than a dragon’s inferno. “No,” he whispered. “No. I won’t kill Stan. I’m going to raise him, even if I get lost in Wyrmwaste and never come out.”

Tem sucked in a breath as Salka shouldered the baby dragon in the knapsack, turned, and stepped away from the trail. The only sound as the boy walked away was the tread of his threadbare boots. Then a chirp from the baby dragon.

Tem didn’t ask the boy where he was going. Salka purposefully strode towards the horizon without looking back. He was deserting the team. Tem did not stop him. He watched feebly as Salka climbed over a stone embankment, steadied his dragon pouch, and disappeared over the other side. Tem had never thanked the boy for saving his life.

“Salka!” Qia shouted, starting forward. “Where are you going? You’re going to die out there in the Wyrmwaste, Salka. You can’t leave.”

She glared at Tem. “You can’t condemn him to death,” she whispered. “He saved your life.”

Qia dashed after Salka, singed hair swinging, and chased the boy over the embankment.

“Cap’n?” Came the calls of the men. A heavy clatter on the stones behind Tem announced the arrival of his dragonraiding team.

“Where’s Qia? And Salka?” Coggins puffed, wiping his face. “Where are they off to, Cap’n?”

Tem folded his hands together, facing the men, and took a breath.

“Salka deserted,” he said. “He stole a dragon hatchling from the dracc nest. I told him we couldn’t keep it. And Qia followed him into the waste to save him, because without provisions he’ll die out there.
Tem expected the men to begin shouting, but they were dead silent.

“Qia and Tem… left?” Shogg choked. “They’re gone? That can’t happen, Cap’n.”

Pressing his hands into his temples, Tem doubled over. Was he hallucinating? Had Qia really just run off into Wyrmwaste? He couldn’t let them die. But it had been their choice.

“Follow them,” Gaz said. “Follow them, Tem, sir. You can’t let them die out there. It’s madness. They’re family.”

Tem straightened up and looked at the orange-red sky. Qia would find her way back. Maybe convince Salka to come. They couldn’t have made it far, anyway. Not far enough to be truly lost. They’d be back. If they had been in real danger, he’d go for them….

A shadow streaked across the sky.

A massive beast, flying on shaky wings, spouting a fountain of fire.

Tem tracked it as it crossed his line of vision and swooped down towards the horizon. Past a stone embankment, and then it roared. Where Salka had gone.

A jolt tore through Tem’s stomach.

The men began shouting around him, and then he was waving his arms, calling commands sharp and clear through space. For the men, to drag the ballistae up over the stones. The fastest of them to charge ahead with poisons and harpoons.

Stone became a blur underfoot as Tem ran, leading the men off the path towards a new fight that would most likely get them all killed.

Snarling, Tem ran anyway, not caring if he could ever dragonraid again. Maybe he didn’t need to hunt dragons. He had to save Qia and scrawny Salka. And Stan.