42: RAINBOW DRAGON
“Oh, so that’s what you meant,” Kihrin said. “You know, people really need to stop calling me prince.”
Thurvishar raised an eyebrow. “I doubt that’s going to happen.”
Kihrin pouted. “Fine. I don’t like it, though.”
“No one said you had to.” Thurvishar reached for a different stack of papers. “I think we’ll skip your parents for the time being.”
“Going back to Senera and friends, are we?” Kihrin didn’t even try to hide his amusement.
“No,” Thurvishar said primly. “I found some journals while we were cleaning up.” He gestured around the room. “From the original owner, as it were.”
Kihrin blinked at the man for a moment and then leaned forward. “What? Are you serious? He kept a journal?”
“He did,” Thurvishar said. “Would you like to hear it?”
“Oh, more than anything,” Kihrin said.
(Grizzst’s story)
The wizard Grizzst was climbing a two-hundred-foot rock cliff when motion flashed at the corner of his eye, a rainbow glimmer. He knew he’d messed up.
All his plans had hinged on spotting the dragon first, and instead, the reverse had just happened.
Thurvishar looked up. “Yes.”
“He wrote his journals in third person?” Kihrin didn’t bother to hide his judgmental tone.
“You really must get over that quirk,” Thurvishar told him. “There’s nothing wrong with that point of view, and some people use it to distance themselves from otherwise uncomfortable situations.”
“I’m just wondering: Are you sure Grizzst wrote this?”
Thurvishar stared at the papers in his hands. “No. I’m not. One might even make the argument it’s unlikely he wrote this. But if he didn’t—” Thurvishar paused. “If he didn’t, Relos Var did.”
“Okay.” Kihrin leaned back. “Please keep reading.”
Grizzst froze. He would have prayed had there been anyone worth praying to. The Raenena Mountains were in the grip of winter—or rather, should have been. Instead, a giant murky lake thick with glacial meltwater filled the valley. Because of the lake, Grizzst had assumed he’d find the dragon on a nearby mountain peak.
But no. The dragon had wanted a bath.
Below him, the water roiled. The creature emerging from the bottom was an animated sculpture crafted from opal and satin, rainbow colors flashing iridescent as he spread his wings and took to the air.
Breathtakingly beautiful and crafted from pure malice.
The dragon landed on a lower mountain peak, craning his neck and hissing while he lashed his tail. Grizzst continued his impersonation of a statue. He would have exactly one chance at this, and if he messed it up, he might end up as something worse than dead.
Grizzst slowly inched a hand toward his pouch when the dragon screamed to shake the sky, twisted its head up toward heaven, and let out an enormous cone of blue-white fire that seemed to singe the clouds. The dragon spun that cone in a circle around him, blasting the trees, the ground, the lake, the rocks. It turned the entire valley into a cauldron of boiling water and steam, which Grizzst assumed was now also radioactive.
Grizzst had forgotten subtlety wasn’t a requirement when you could just set the world on fire. Grizzst couldn’t stop himself from uttering a curse as he was forced to release the rock and fall to avoid that deadly blast.
The dragon heard. His scream filled with triumphant rage.
Grizzst hit a rocky outcropping rising from the boiling water, dislocating his shoulder and shattering ribs. He’d prepared for such contingencies; spells reknit his bones as soon as they broke, but it still hurt with paralyzing, searing pain. He should have researched something to make him invulnerable to harm in the first place, but he’d underestimated the risk. Now he had a dislocated shoulder, which wouldn’t heal until he popped it into place, which he couldn’t do while he was using that arm to keep from falling to his death. And he couldn’t use his other arm because … well, he needed it.
Wind slammed against him as the creature’s wings beat toward him. He grabbed his necklace with his free hand, feeling as vulnerable as a kitten caught out in the open by a hungry wolf. Grizzst concentrated as he hung there, hoping this wasn’t the last mistake of his misbegotten existence.
The dragon’s shadow was so large it covered not only Grizzst but the whole valley.
The dragon reared his head back—and did nothing.
Grizzst rolled over. The dragon wasn’t paralyzed, exactly. The creature had put all his legs on smaller hilltop islands for balance, and his wings played a gentle fan over Grizzst’s head. But the monster wanted to lunge forward, breathe fire, bite, and rend. And couldn’t.
Grizzst smirked a little and took the opportunity to catch his breath.
Grizzst used both hands to struggle his way to safety. He yanked his shoulder into alignment, letting the necklace fall back into position. It was a platinum chain, simple and clean, from which hung a brilliant white diamond, large enough for any set of crown jewels. “Took me a long time to find this,” Grizzst said as he stared at the frozen dragon. “Searched the Blight for almost a century. I suppose it technically doesn’t have a name, but I call it Cynosure. It lets me control dragons. Fun, huh? To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure it would even work on you. Color me ever so pleased it does. Hello, Rev’arric. It’s been a while.”
Smoke rose from the dragon’s nostrils while hate blazed behind his eyes.
“Oh, nice of you to pretend otherwise, but I’m sure you don’t remember me,” Grizzst continued in a pleasant, conversational tone. “We met at a conference on tenyé magnification systems. Well, I say meet, but you were lecturing and I was a student. That was before I flunked out of university.” He shrugged. “What can I say? I discovered girls.”
Grizzst liked to imagine the dragon silently cursing Grizzst’s ancestors, but it was more likely Rev’arric was too insane to even comprehend Grizzst’s words. He’d encountered a few other dragons, and their lucidity varied wildly. He actually held a fascinating conversation with Sharanakal once, but Rol’amar? Not so much.
“Turns out every dragon has a matching Cornerstone, and I’m pretty sure this Cornerstone is yours,” Grizzst said. “The reason you’re so”—he waved a hand at the dragon’s general form—“you is because you’re missing it. So let’s fix that, shall we? Because you and I need to talk.”
Grizzst started building a bridge toward the dragon’s head so he could get to work.