Suddenly, Mr. Nibbles issues a tiny warning peep: something approaches!
But Varel seems to have overestimated her wakefulness; though she knows she should alert the others, she cannot keep her eyes from closing. She slumps over and dreams of faerie cats, yowling eerily in her ears from across dimensions.Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
She awakens with a start a short time later to find Mr. Nibbles hunched over her protectively. What just happened? Some kind of enchantment! She immediately looks to make sure the eggs are safe, whereupon her fears are confirmed: the eggs are gone!
Varel screams (startling her companions awake) and rushes out of the cave into the night. In the moonlight, she spies a ship sailing away downriver.
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In Salbadore's dream, Laurie is a mouse.
"Why aren't you eating, mousie?"
A cloaked man storms into the pantry. He brandishes a knife.
There is a scream and the knife clatters to the floor.
-
Mayna has been roosting serenely on the wizard's pristine crossbow. She, too, has been dreaming, but at Varel's commotion she is shocked awake. Her three eyelids roll open in fear, her abdomen tenses - with a squawk, she drops a little turd on Salbadore's weapon and flaps into the air.
Salbadore snaps into a crouch under his blankets. A little dazed, he mutters, "Screaming?"
Varel returns to camp resigned and depressed. She's exhausted and not at all eager to admit her watch failure to her new friends.
"I can't do anything right," she sobs to herself as she feebly sounds the alarm. "My clothes, my home, my beloved Wolfie... everything I love turns to ash..."
As her companions awaken she does her best to describe the curious circumstances to them. Mister Nibbles would have attacked any normal intruder. Had they been ensorceled? And where might that mysterious ship have come from?
Salbadore's eyes are barely open. "We shall not waste any time . . ."
He opens his kreisbuch and withdraws from its spinal compartment a tiny black fly. "Stay back," he says as he tosses it in the air and incants the magic words. The tiny figurine swells to life, and then keeps on swelling until it is the size of a pony. Wearing only his pants, Salbadore straps his buch under his arm, and mounts the gigantic insect. "Someone come along!" he cries. "When we find them, I'll send Mayna back with word."
Varel lights up and hops on the ebony fly. "By the cool faerie powers... lets give chase! Set sail for dragon eggs!"
Salbadore grabs two fistfuls of the fly's slick black thorax hairs like reins. It dawns on him that driving this insect along will be nothing like guiding the strong, gentle horses at Wolfgramm. The insect's strength is of a different sort, he notes: it is uncontrolled, jerky, and unattentive to form. Its energy is like a seizure - he wonders if he can control it.
Then Varel siddles up on the fly's bulbous abdomen, just behind Salbadore. Salbadore feels her arms reach around him and her fine hands clasp together at his navel. All at once - bare-chested atop his loathsome mount, this vaguely frightening wild-child behind him - Salbadore feels like a very big man.
"Ho! Forward, fly! Mayna: fly high above us!"
With a sudden blast of air and a jolt upwards, they are airborne.
The monstrous fly takes wing with its riders, who are doused by the rushing curtain of water at the fore of the cave as the insect (,giant) carries them through the waterfall and into the sky.
As Salbadore surmised, piloting the ebony fly bore little relation to his experience with horses. It was simply not in the creature's nature to travel in a straight line, and its proclivity to zig and zag unpredictably threatened not only to unseat its passengers, but also the contents of their stomachs.
Moreover, traveling through the air was a much more complicated endeavor than guiding a horse along the ground. Though left and right were easy enough to control, Salbadore had to learn through trial and error how to tell the fly to ascend or drop.
And then there was the matter of speed. The ebony fly was unexpectedly zippy for its size, and too quickly it achieved an altitude that made Salbadore distinctly uncomfortable. Urging it downward, he then had to be careful that it did not then crash into the river below. He was able to achieve a tenous balance between these two extremes.
Just as it took every bit of Salbadore's concentration to control the fly, Varel's muscles strained to hold onto him. "Not so tight!" Salbadore managed to tell her, but the exhilaration of flying and the fear of falling kept Varel's arms in a vice-like hug, and her face fixed in a toothy grin.
All the bobbing and weaving and lurching and dipping was rather amusing to Mayna, and Salbadore knew it.
It was not long before they has caught up to the ship. In the moonlight, the heroes estimated that it was perhaps two dozen feet in length. Though it had a mast with a large square sail, it could also be propelled by means of multiple sets of oars. Its crew were nowhere in sight.
It was unlikely that they would catch the boat's occupants by surprise; the moon's gleam and the loud buzzing of the fly's wings (not to mention any curses involuntarily emitted by its riders) made sure of that.
"Mayna! Can you see anyone?"
The raven drops from the air and hurtles acrobatically towards the boat, cutting away just out of bow range. She comes to a speedy glide in the air currents over the river, which bubble like the currents below. Mayna flaps hard to pass the boat before doubling back and making a pass overhead. She drops behind the boat, hovers for a moment, and climbs the air with her wings.
"Did you see a crew?" Salbadore shouts.
Mayna caws loudly and hoarsely over the fly's oppressive buzzing. "Nay!"
"Are the oars in use?"
She squawks. "Nay!"
Salbadore twists slightly in his awkward seat on the fly's back and barks, "Varel, there may be no one aboard! Shall we land?"
"Yes, and hurry up!" Varel chewed nervously on a bitter smelling root. She fidgeted through her pockets, trying to organize her spell components into a more coherent sort of mess. "If men are like mice, then we shall be lions!Those baby dragons are going to imprint on the first person they see... and it'd better be me!"
Salbadore pulls two clumps of fly-bristles forward towards the giant insects' jittering head. The way its head bobbed about as it flied - it was incomprehensible how it could ever have a solid picture of the world. Perhaps the fly perceived its shaking movements as inertia in a constantly shaking world - and Salbadore's steadying hand must have seemed like nothing but an imposition.
They land on the boat's deck.
Varel attempts to elegantly dismount the large ebony fly, but looses her balance and falls awkwardly onto the deck. "You didn't see that Salbadore!"
Varel gaily laughs and stands up, looking for the best way to proceed into the ship's interior. "You can't hide the eggs from us mister! You better give 'em back right now or we're going to burn down your ship!"
"Show yourselves!" Salbadore contributes.
Mayna does not land on the boat with her master. With a quick flutter to turn on a breeze, she bolts through the air towards camp.
A thin man emerges from the deck cabin, sporting a variety of gaily patterned scarves (their colors muted in the silvery light of the moon) and sipping a cup of tea.
"Well hello there," he says to Varel and Salbadore. "Before you proceed to burn down my ship, would you like some tea?"
"No? It's quite safe and rather tasty. You have my word."
"Very well then, I see you're in no mood for niceties. So let us get to business."
"I am called Benedick. I took the liberty of relieving you of those eggs because I can turn them into considerable profit. I don't know how you came by them, but after studying your group it seemed that you were planning on allowing them to hatch - which suggests that you are either foolish or insane."
"It is similarly foolish to make such bold demands when you are in no position to do so. One, you are outnumbered. Yes, I know there are others with you, but I don't imagine that they're in any position to come to your aid at this particular time, otherwise you would have made a full show of your strength by bringing them here."
"Two, it is evident that the eggs are very important to you, else why go through so much trouble and place yourselves at such obvious risk to retrieve them? I should warn you that this vessel is enchanted, and one word from me is all it would take to spill those precious eggs into the drink, which would almost certainly destroy them."
"But to do that would mean that we would both lose something of value. As a businessman, I would hate for that to happen. It is always preferable for all parties to walk away from a deal having gained something."
"So I will make you an offer. I will allow you to leave my ship alive with one egg, and three hundred gold pieces in exchange for the others, to compensate you for all the effort you have put into their care thus far."
Flustered, Varel fumes and stares at Benedick incredulously. Despite her rage she realizes that the stranger's threat was no bluff, and that their impulsiveness had nearly cost them their lives.
"You leave us no choice good sir. But please don't leave without letting me tell you how to incubate them. The temperature has to be just right, and the deer brain poultices can be a real bother. Anyways... I'm sure they'll be going to good homes."
"Some gold and one egg?
"Thereby you have underestimated us, Benedick - and jolly good. For we are neither insane nor stupid - and you haven't a bare clue as to . . . well, my motives anyway. Nor our employer's.
"Our mother hen here doesn't ken the value of her own labor, dear thing. Suffice to say, one egg and three hundred gold - it is but to scoff. That is no show of faith!"
"Well, of course. So it follows that you name your price, and then we haggle, et cetera. Have you never done this before?"
"As your luck would have it, we are genomancers with His Excellency's Experimental Wing and I happen to know the price of a dragon egg. Yet, have you not inspected these eggs yet? Do you even know what you have? You simply could not.
"These are Draconis viridis - brute baynes, etters of yon rype pigges, and all that. You've read Buntswaite, haven't you? I have no idea of the black market price you'll fetch, but I say, they are worth no less than two thousand gold each to the Wing, and - given their modifications - that low price was only possible with the Deviltamer's good will." Salbadore pulls on his beard. "From my vantage, I'd say that your original, puny offer demonstrates only your capacity for ignorance and injustice. Grimrune's pets await at our camp, Benedick!"
Gesturing to Varel, Salbadore continues, "We two will suffer the most. It falls upon you to demonstrate good faith, if not repentance."
"I know full well what would emerge from these eggs, were they given the chance to fully gestate. Believe me when I say that I have no intention of permitting the birth any more dragons that might ravage His Excellency's lands or his people. Nay, friends, these eggs and their contents will be of much better use when they are converted into ingredients for magickal endeavors, potions, and other forms of beneficial research."
"As for your personal designs with them, I am reluctant to permit you to leave here with even one egg; for I can easily foresee the tragedy that would eventually result from its successful hatching. I had included it in my offer out of nothing more than my generous nature, and some regret over the underhanded way in which I intially took them from you; though if you continue to press me, my better judgment in the matter may yet prevail."
"If my offer seems unfair to you in the monetary sense, consider this a function of your relatively weak bargaining position. But I am not an unreasonable fellow, and am willing to offer three hundred gold pieces per egg that remains here."
"Moreover, I do know something or two about green dragons - or Draconis viridis, if you prefer - and I can guarantee you that even if I were to return all four eggs, that only one of the hatchlings would survive. They are competetive little monsters from the start, and their wickedness only increases with age and size."
"Bargaining aside, have you considered the moral ramifications of bringing such a demon into the world?"
"I have, but we are not unreasonable, either. Do you care to explain your position more fully?"
"You need go no further than Dale-Town to hear of their suffering by a dragon. I'm afraid that these creatures do not only lust for the taste of pork, my friends. It is not uncommon for them to disrupt trade and other forms of commerce in their insatiable avarice, or to demand ransom from entire communities lest great terror and devastation be unleashed."
"Even so, I have offered to return one egg to you and to throw in nine hundred pieces of gold for your troubles. It is not a bad offer by any means. Truly, I hope that you will come to your senses and smash your egg before it is too late."
"Perhaps you would now care to explain your position more fully? Wherefore your interest in retrieving these eggs?"
"And are you certain you would not like some tea?"
"I think that if you would only bring your boat to a halt, so that we are not spirited away and converted into components ourselves, we might have tea and resolve things - depending on how horrified your intentions have made my companion. As it is, Grimrune's dogs will worry you little on the water here, so far from the falls."
"You'll not be converted into components, if I have any say in the matter. However, I cannot stop the boat, as I am on a tight deadline."
"Simply allow me to retrieve what is yours, per my revised offer, and then do me the service of leaving peaceably."
He backs toward the deck cabin. "Please stay where you are and refrain from making any sudden movements while I do so."
Benedick tosses out sack after sack of coins onto the deck of the ship, nine in all, before emerging with one of the dragon eggs, which he carefully hands off to Varel.
"It's been a pleasure," he says. "Take care on your flight back to camp."
Varel smiles and gently cradles the egg as Benedick hands it to her. "Salbadore, can we just take the money and go now? I don't want to press our luck this time. This has been a big enough inconvenience, and I'll have my hands full with just the one baby anyways."
She waves goodbye to Benedick and begins walking towards the ebony fly with whatever she can carry.
"Yes, Varel. I think you're right." Salbadore reactivates the fly and helps to load the gold onto its back.
He loads the last bag of gold and helps Varel onto the foul steed. Before climbing on himself, Salbadore turns to the thieving wizard. "Benedick, everything you have said may be true. We may be in the midst of folly. But the way that you obtained these eggs was an injustice that has not been fully righted. Next time we meet, I trust that you will not save your more graceful manners for so late in the game."
Benedick laughs in spite of himself. "It was sly of me, yes," he acknowledges. "But it is unlikely that I would have succeeded otherwise. And, at least, no one was harmed. Surely you must give me some credit for that."
"As for good manners, perhaps when next we meet, you will not greet me with threats, and we will be able to enjoy some tea like civilized persons."
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