Changeling Illusion (Thirteen Realms Book 3) Read online

  The shrieking winds had abated somewhat, but the night was still dark and full of driven snow. I soon lost sight of them and the Dragon’s body.

  Mama Troll didn’t do much for a while, just stood there sniffing the air. Then she began methodically pacing around the small stand of pines, kicking at the snow as she went. Great gouts of snow flew up into the night air as I watched her stomp around, gradually widening her circle out from around the pines into the pass.

  In my grief and exhaustion, it took me a while to figure out what she was doing, but it dawned on me eventually that she was, in fact, searching for me. Her son must have told her about his invisible assailant, and now she was determinedly pursuing me as best she could.

  How long would she keep this up? I didn’t want to be stuck up this tree all night, but neither did I wish to risk being captured by climbing down while she was still in the vicinity. One of her children was dead, the other injured, and she was clearly in no mind to let the guilty party off scot-free.

  I could probably manage to sneak away unseen, but, quite frankly, I didn’t have the heart to risk it right now. With her on high alert, even slipping as I descended the tree could prove fatal. And I certainly didn’t want to give her the idea of extending her search up into the branches. She was taller than her son, and the club she still carried could easily sweep me out of my perch if she knew I was there. So I sat and watched her, desperately channelling magic to my extremities, trying to keep from shivering.

  I was beginning to rethink my decision an hour later when she still showed no signs of leaving the area. I still had a long way to go if I was to save Squeak, and the sooner I got started, the better.

  My heart ached for the poor Dragon, and I dreaded giving the news of his death to the king. It wasn’t my fault, but I couldn’t help a niggling feeling of guilt, knowing that the Dragon would never have been in this area if not for me and my insistence on helping Squeak.

  And now, perhaps even that goal was at risk. Without him, would the people of Fire even let me in? The Dragon had said we didn’t have to walk all the way to the peak, that they would intercept us at the border. And yet I had only the vaguest idea where the border actually was, and no clue at all as to whether they would open their lands to me, a stranger, without the Dragon at my side.

  No, that wasn’t true. Actually, I had a pretty good idea that they wouldn’t. The king had said that the borders of Fire had been closed for decades. Why would they make an exception for a stranger? But surely, if I told them of Squeak’s need, they would relent?

  And yet my heart sank further into my frozen boots as the night wore on and the she-troll continued her vigil in the pass.

  I’d almost decided that I would have to risk making a break past her if I was ever to get underway again at all, when two trolls appeared out of the swirling darkness. One was Papa Troll, but the other was a newcomer. The new troll wore a necklace strung with long pointed teeth, some as long as my hand. What kind of creature had such teeth come from? I’d never seen any so big, and I’d butchered a few carcasses in my time. Surely they weren’t dragon teeth? How could a troll, even one the size of Papa Troll or his friend, manage to best a dragon?

  I sighed softly, laying my wool-wrapped cheek against the frigid bark of the pine tree. Why should I doubt it? Hadn’t I just seen the trolls defeat the Dragon in front of my very eyes? Clearly, it could be done.

  The new troll conferred with the other two, and then they advanced on the cave behind me. They must have decided that this was where their invisible assailant was holed up. One by one, the three of them disappeared inside. The cave wasn’t large; it wouldn’t take long to realise that it was empty.

  Sure enough, they soon reappeared. But Papa Troll was carrying my backpack. Damn, I’d forgotten that was in there—looked like there’d be no breakfast for me. The she-troll waved her arms around, indicating the ground between the walls of the pass. She was probably explaining to him how she’d searched it. The new troll gave a few desultory kicks at the snow, then walked off. After a moment, the other two followed him, and soon, they were swallowed by the night.

  I sat in my tree for a while longer, wondering if this was some kind of trap. Perhaps they thought to lure me out of wherever I was hiding by pretending to leave. But the longer I sat there with nothing happening, the more I realised that I was giving them too much credit. Cave trolls were an evolutionary branch that was well and truly withering. Their smarter cousins, the river trolls, had nabbed all the brains from the family tree. No, the trolls had simply given up and it was time for me to climb down.

  As it turned out, it was a good thing I had waited. I made a lot more noise climbing down the tree than I normally would, even slipping the last few feet when my fingers proved even stiffer with cold than I had expected. But I was soon on the ground, and I set off in the same direction the trolls had gone. My path lay that way, too.

  I moved as quickly as I could without making too much noise, gradually working some feeling back into my arms and legs. I hadn’t come this far to get caught now.

  Screaming from further down the pass stopped me in my tracks. Goosebumps prickled to life up and down my arms. What the hell was going on down there? I would have expected the trolls to be celebrating their great victory over the knight, but those sounded like screams of pain and terror. Had fighting broken out among them, perhaps? Had the troll with the dragon necklace decided he wanted to keep the Dragon’s sword as a trophy and Papa Troll had objected? Cave trolls were primitive creatures, and just as liable to fight to the death over a chicken wing as a sword.

  Either way, perhaps it was a good thing for me. If they were too tied up in their own pursuits, they wouldn’t even notice a shadow slip past.

  At least walking warmed me up. I felt some life return to my heavy limbs as I trudged through the snow. I was thirsty, but my canteen had gone with my pack, and I had no wish to suck on frozen snow. I was cold enough already without swallowing a gullet full of ice.

  The still falling snow had already erased the tracks of the trolls, but I was sure I was still following them. The sides of the pass were so sheer that there was really nowhere else to go, although I kept my eye open for well concealed caves.

  As it turned out, the trolls were easy to find. I began to smell smoke and a sharp, acrid stench, and soon, a turn of the pass brought me a strange sight.

  To my left lay the opening of a large cave, big enough to drive a semitrailer through, although it seemed as if it had recently suffered a catastrophic enlargement. Rocks of many sizes, including some big boulders, lay scattered across the width of the pass as if some giant truck had ploughed through the ragged opening of the cave wall. The largest of these, a big black boulder, sat squarely in the centre of the pass in a shining pool of melted and then re-frozen snow. I moved closer to the boulder, using it as a shield between me and the cave entrance, and peeked inside.

  Perhaps twenty trolls had gathered in the large, open cave. Dark shadows along the back and sides hinted at tunnels or smaller caves off the side. The main cave was smoky from a large cooking fire that burned in the centre. Smoke from the fire rose toward the peaked roof and disappeared somewhere into the jagged cracks of the ceiling. Two trolls in front of the cooking pot were dismembering a third, whose pale grey skin was seared black in places.

  The large communal pot bobbled, and the smell of boiling meat drifted out to me. My stomach rumbled with hunger even as my instincts rebelled in horror. I could see body parts in that cauldron, and one arm looked the right size to have come from the Dragon.

  I stood for a moment, frozen in horror. The trolls were going to eat him? His family wouldn’t even have a body to bury, after his years of service to the Crown? It was horrific. I gazed around the cave, recognising the troll with the dragon necklace. He was seated atop a large rock, overseeing the cooking process. Papa and Mama Troll stood nearby. Did they all live here together, or was this some kind of communal meeting hall? Weighed down with s
orrow, I was about to move on when I spied a glint of silver in the dark recesses of the cave. Was that—?

  Yes, it was. The Dragon’s sword stood propped against a wall, discarded like a common garden rake. If the trolls had been fighting over it before, no one seemed to give a stuff about it now. My blood boiled. They killed a Knight of the Realms then ate him as if he were no more than an animal? And then they left his sword lying around as if his life and his honour had no meaning at all?

  Well, we would see about that. If I couldn’t retrieve his body for burial, at least I could do something about that sword. I took a few minutes longer to study the layout of the cave and the positioning of all its inhabitants. With the scent of that hideous meat cooking, they would never smell me, and the cloak of shadows meant that they wouldn’t see me either. All I had to do was make sure I made no noise. Piece of cake.

  I bent to gather a handful of small black rocks from around the base of the boulder that sheltered me, then I picked my way carefully across the broken ground toward the cave mouth. Once there, I hurled a rock as hard as I could toward the back of the cave. It clattered to the ground somewhere back there in the darkness and every ugly troll head in the place turned to trace the source of the noise.

  I slipped into the cave and made my way toward the sword. Luckily, there were no trolls between me and it. It was the work of a moment to arrive beside the weapon. I drew in a deep, silent breath, readying myself for the next bit.

  I let another stone fly, a little to the right of where the first one had landed, and once again, the trolls all looked toward the noise. Necklace Guy stood up and yelled something in the harsh troll language, probably some kind of insult, which only added to the diversion for all the others in the cave. I picked up the Dragon’s weapon, careful not to let the naked blade scrape against the rock. Once I had it in my hand, of course, it became invisible, and I began the slow retreat to the cave mouth.

  No one had seen me come, and no one noticed me go, either. In a few minutes, I was back outside, the Dragon’s sword held carefully in both hands. A sheath would have been handy. It would be a major pain to carry it like this all the way down to the border, but the sheath had disappeared with the Dragon. Perhaps it was decorating some troll den somewhere or being turned to some other trollish purpose.

  I increased my pace as I got further away from the troll cave. It would be good to have a bit of space between us if anyone did notice the theft. I kept an ear out as I marched onward, half expecting to hear a hue and cry begin behind me, but all was quiet. I had got away with it.

  The Dragon had been a tall man, much taller than me, and his sword was sized to fit him. I couldn’t even thrust it through my belt to carry it as the tip would have dragged along the ground. Once I was far enough away from the trolls, I removed my belt and slung it crosswise across my body. Then, very carefully, I wriggled the tip of the naked blade down through the makeshift bandolier at my back so the sword hilt was protruding above my shoulder. Accessing the sword in a hurry would be difficult, but I was hardly going to use it. It was a knight’s weapon, and I was no knight. Briefly, I mourned the loss of my two daggers, which were weapons that did suit me—but at least I was still alive, and that had to count for something.

  While there is life there is hope, they say, but I had very little hope that the people of Fire would help me as things stood. Perhaps if I offered them the Dragon’s sword and explained what had happened—how he had died fighting to protect me, how important he felt my cause was.

  Silver Tree, who was I kidding? I knew they wouldn’t give a rat’s arse about causes. From what the Dragon had said, his brother might not even be that upset that the knight was dead. I had to come up with a plan B, and it had to be spectacular.

  I already had something in mind, of course, but it was a little bold, even for me. Could I really pull it off? There were so many things that could go wrong—even more than had gone wrong already. If I was discovered, they would probably kill me, but time was ticking away. I was acutely conscious that dawn was only hours away, which brought us another day closer to Squeak’s death.

  I had the power in my hands to save him. How could I let fear hold me back?

  18

  The Dragon had said the border with Fire was at the tree line and I would know it when I saw it. It had seemed an odd thing to say. Was there a customs checkpoint? I highly doubted it. And yet, when I got there, I realised he was right.

  I paused at the place where the pass opened up, marvelling at the vista laid out before me. The snow still fell, still blanketed the ground ahead in pristine white, and yet it was very clear that Winter’s domain was almost at an end. Just a little further down the mountainside, the world changed from white to black. Instead of shining on dazzling snow on the other side of the border, the moonlight fell on bare, black rock. It was as if a line had been drawn by an invisible hand. On one side, snow fell and frigid Winter reigned. On the other, the black rocks were dry and the air was still.

  I had never seen such an obvious magical border between Realms before, though, to be fair, the only one I had ever seen before was the border between Autumn and Illusion, which was merely a riverbank. You would never have guessed that sovereignty changed from one side of the reeds to the other. But here, there was no doubt.

  The black rocks tumbled and fell down the mountainside into a broad but barren valley. Out of this valley reared two enormous volcanic peaks, their shoulders wreathed in smoke and their heads crowned in glowing red fire. These volcanoes were the heart of Fire’s domain. Among the smoke, the occasional draconic shape could be seen circling the peaks. No doubt these were the watchers the Dragon had spoken of, the ones who would know when we crossed the border.

  Time to make a decision once and for all. Plan A, with very little chance of success, or Plan B, with a higher chance but drastic consequences for failure?

  I sighed as I studied the distant smoking peaks. I knew which one Kyrrim would want me to choose, but it wasn’t that cut and dried. There were actually disastrous possibilities for each choice—it was just that the consequences fell on different parties. If I went to the dragons as I was and they refused to let me in or help me, then Squeak was doomed. If I went to them in a different form, Squeak had a chance but the danger to myself if my deception was discovered was great.

  I removed the cloak of shadows, popping back into view, and tucked it away again in my back pocket. I was really only putting off the inevitable; I already knew which option I was going for. It was time to grow a set and commit.

  I held out my gloved hands in front of me. These were the Dragon’s gloves, and if I needed anything else of his, his sword was strapped to my back. It should be an easy transformation. I closed my eyes and summoned a vision of Ebos: his tall, slim frame, his strong hands, the inquisitive spark in his dark brown eyes.

  A ripple of magic passed over me, warming my skin. When I opened my eyes, I was significantly taller and wore the surcoat of a Knight of the Realms. I gazed down at myself in wonder, noting the snug fit of the gloves that had previously swum on my hands. My feet were shoved into the heavy leather boots of a knight.

  I stamped my foot, feeling the weight and power of the movement. Shaking my head in wonder, I realised even that felt different. A heavy fall of dark hair was tied back in a rough ponytail at the back of my neck. I had done it. To any outward eyes, I was now the Dragon.

  I strode down the path, trying to look the part, my head held high. I kept my eye on those winged shapes within the smoke around the distant peaks. Sure enough, as I approached the demarcation line between the Realms, one of them peeled away from the peak and flew towards me.

  I stopped at the border, suddenly uncertain. Could I even cross? Would the border magic somehow know I was an imposter and not the man I appeared to be? Perhaps if the borders were closed to all comers, there was something in the magic that recognised true denizens of Fire and would zap me where I stood.

  Well, at least that wo
uld be quick.

  I strode across the invisible line and stopped on the other side, still thankfully in one piece.

  The approaching dragon would have given even the bravest person nightmares. It was very hard to stand there, pretending nonchalance, with such a creature bearing down on me. Every self-preservation instinct in my brain was shrieking at me to run. I don’t think I’d ever really appreciated just how big dragons were before. Its wingspan was truly enormous, and the closer it got, the larger it appeared. It was like standing on a runway with a 747 about to land on top of you. Only the thought of Squeak and a supreme effort of will kept me rooted to the spot as the gigantic creature settled a short distance away with one last thunderous clap of its wings.

  For a long moment, we stared at each other, the dragon and I. Its eyes were golden, with vertical pupils that reminded me of Squeak, which helped settle me a little. Its scales were the colour of dried blood, yet glowed with an inner fire that made them beautiful, and the wings when they had been spread shone like stained-glass with the light behind. The massive head bent closer as the dragon inspected me. I waited, trying to appear stoic and unafraid, though I was trembling in my oversized boots. I figured the less I said, the better. That way I would have fewer lies to keep track of.

  Smoke puffed from the dragon’s nostrils as it spoke, its voice a deep, melodious rumble. “It’s been a long time, Ebos.”

  “It has indeed.” The dragon obviously knew who I was, or at least who I was pretending to be, which meant I should probably know its name as well, but I couldn’t even tell if it was male or female. I’d have to really work the strong, silent thing.