Heart of the Mountain

"Then so be it, we make for the top."

***

"Take my hand," Iden said, reaching down to grip Isabelle by her slim wrist. He hauled her up and over a rocky outcrop, depositing her on the ground beside him. She fumbled with her golden vase, almost dropping it, but she caught it at the last second. He watched her exhale in relief, her breath misting in the cold.

There were patches of snow here that made the going slippery and which served to obscure some of the more dangerous rocks. There was no path, they had to make their own way, Iden driving the haft of his pike deep into the icy ground for purchase. His armor was a liability, weighing him down and making him clumsier than he needed to be, but there was no alternative. Facing the dragon without his gear would be suicidal.

"We can't be far off now," he panted, "the snow did not cover more than the highest point when seen from the foothills."

"Hang on," Isabelle gasped, leaning on a nearby boulder. "I need to rest for a moment."

There were so many loose rocks here, it compounded the danger. One only needed to slip, and they would be sent tumbling down the steep face. There were no plants here, no grasses or shrubs, only the occasional patch of hardy lichen that clung desperately to the rocks that protruded from the shin-deep snow.

"I don't advise that," Iden replied, pausing to look back at her. "Stay still for too long, and the cold will claim you. It will make you as stiff as a statue. We must keep our blood flowing, and our muscles moving, we have to stay warm. Take deep breaths, the air is thinning."

She nodded, picking up the pace. As much as Iden would have liked to rest, his tent would do little against this harsh wind, and there was nary a flat surface upon which to place it. No, they couldn't stop until they reached their destination. Charging into the dragon's den while exhausted from his climb might put him at a disadvantage, but unless there was more than one cave, he would have little choice. He had fought after long marches before, he could handle it...

The conversation had certainly died down since they had reached the more grueling part of their climb, neither one of them could spare the breath. The freezing wind howled, and the snow crunched beneath their feet, the hollow clanking of Iden's armor echoing.

"Up there," Iden said, gesturing ahead of them. There was a small cliff with a rocky outcrop that looked as though it might provide them with some modicum of shelter, massive icicles hanging over the lip. After struggling another hundred feet or so, they threw themselves beneath the rock, the structure forming a sort of shallow cave mouth. It shielded them from the buffeting wind, and Iden took the opportunity to lay his pack and his weapons down. Isabelle stumbled in after him, taking a seat on the cold floor.

"Thank the Gods," she sighed, "a moment of respite."

She kicked off one of her boots and began to massage her foot through her thick sock.

"This is as good a place as any to make camp for the night," Iden said, reaching into his pack and withdrawing a bundle of sticks that were tied together with knotted string. "It's a good job that we had the foresight to bring some firewood and kindling with us, there's nary a plant in sight up here."

Isabelle hovered about impatiently as he stacked the broken branches and struck his flint over a handful of dry moss, cupping his hands around the fledgling embers and blowing on them. After a couple of tense minutes, the flames finally took hold, the small campfire beginning to crackle. The pair huddled around it, holding their hands as close to the fire as they dared in an attempt to warm themselves.

"Eat," Iden said, fishing a paper package from his bag and tossing it to her. "You'll need your strength if we're going to face the dragon tomorrow. Just be mindful, we'll need to save enough for the return trip."

"That's optimistic," she chuckled, unwrapping her parcel and taking a bite of the salted meat within.

"At least there's an ample supply of fresh snow up here, we can melt it to refill the canteen. I'll set the tent up beside the fire, though I doubt that I'll be able to drive the stakes into this rock. We may have to make do with the sleeping bag alone."

She nodded, chewing laboriously.

"I wanted to discuss our tactics," Iden continued, "for when we challenge the dragon tomorrow. I would have you wait outside until I am done. Do not set foot in its den until I give the all-clear, or you might be caught in the battle. I can protect myself from its fiery breath and its rending claws with my shield, and my armor, but I cannot safeguard you as well."

"About that," she began, Iden sensing an argument brewing. "If you anger the dragon before I have a chance to present it with my offering, do you not think that it will reject it? If a party of two visited your home, and one of them attempted to murder you, would you then accept a gift from his companion?"

"I see no reason to think that the dragon will accept your gift, regardless of its mood," he replied as he stoked the fire. "It's a wild animal, you might as well try to gain the favor of a bear by offering it a pot of honey."

"You don't know that," she grumbled, tugging her golden vase a little closer to her.

"It had crossed my mind to tear that jar from your hands and to cast it off the mountain once we reached the peak," he admitted, "if only to put an end to your foolishness. It might have upset you, but without your offering, you would have no reason to put yourself at risk."

"You brute!" she gasped, her green eyes flashing with indignation. She clutched her vase in her arms as if to shield it from him, her lower lip beginning to tremble as she scowled at him. "You think me so naive, but you have no idea what you're doing. You know no more about dragons than I do, and yet you presume to make decisions in my stead, as if you had some sort of authority over me. Well hear this, Hedge Knight. You have no idea what you're walking into, and tomorrow you'll be proven wrong. Then we'll see who's being foolish."

"Clearly, I decided against that course of action," he replied. "But I still want you to wait, and if I should be slain by the beast, then go back down the mountain. Listen to reason, don't try to bargain with the thing."

"How about this?" Isabelle continued, still glaring at him from across the campfire. "I shall go in first, and you shall accompany me as my loyal guardsman. I will present my gift to the dragon, and if it should refuse, then you can have your way with the thing."

"And if it decides to fill the entire cave with fire at the first sight of you?"

"Then I shall burden you no longer," she snapped.

"I'm only trying to keep you safe," he grumbled, "it would tarnish my victory to see you reduced to a pile of ash."

She was a stubborn girl, fighting about it was pointless, and he was starting to regret bringing it up at all. He might have to take more drastic measures tomorrow, but he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

When they were done eating, Iden attempted to erect the tent. As he had suspected, the rocky ground was too hard to pierce with a tent peg, he would have needed a hammer to make any headway. Instead, they laid the fabric of the tent out to act as a little extra insulation, and then set the sleeping bag down on top of it. Isabelle was still sulking, and so they drifted off to sleep in silence.

CHAPTER 3: LAIR OF THE BEAST

"Watch out!" Iden shouted, his boot dislodging a rock. It rolled down the steep incline towards Isabelle, picking up more loose stones as it went, until it had formed a kind of miniature rockslide. She dodged out of its path, taking cover behind a nearby boulder, the stones clattering against it as they cascaded down the mountainside.

"Careful where you step!" she yelled back, peeking out to glare at him.

They were really far up now. Iden had seldom seen the clouds from above, they created what looked like a snow-white ocean below him that extended all the way to the horizon. The mountainside seemed to vanish into the fog, as if the peak was all that existed now. He could make out a few far-off mountains jutting above the clouds like snowy islands, but they were far away, hazy and indistinct. Above him, the sky was such a deep blue that it was bordering on black. A clear, azure sky was usually joined by the warmth of a summer's day, but the heavens were as cold as ice water up here. The wind howled, strong enough to buffet him in his suit of armor, creeping through the joints as though he had been submerged in a frozen lake.

"It has to be close," he said as Isabelle climbed up to meet him. He reached down to offer her his hand, the girl reacting as though she intended to refuse it for a moment before taking it. He guided her up, the both of them taking a moment to rest on a relatively flat outcrop. "The highest point is in sight," he continued, glancing up at the craggy peak. "The dragon's lair must be below that, a cave that winds deeper inside the mountain, presumably."

"So what, are we going to circle the peak until we find it?" Isabelle asked. "I can't feel my fingers, I fear that if I spend much longer up here, I will freeze in place like a statue."

"Something tells me that we'll not have to search for very long," Iden replied, pointing above them. "Look!"

She followed his gaze, turning to see the mouth of a cave. It looked like a giant had bored out a cavernous hole in the sheer rock face with an appropriately sized auger, leaving a deep tunnel that was sheathed in dark shadow. As they climbed up towards it, Iden noted that it was tall and wide enough that a stagecoach could have passed through it unhindered, or a dragon of the same scale that the old shepherd had described...

They wasted no time, hurrying inside to escape the cold, the wind making an eerie wailing sound as it rushed down the winding passage. The walls and ceiling of the cave were rough and uneven, and their footsteps echoed like they were standing inside a grand cathedral. There was moisture everywhere, every surface seeming to glisten such that it almost seemed to have been sculpted from wet clay. There were mineral deposits that had dripped from the roof, creating long, drooping stalactites that resembled icicles. The longer ones were broken away, evidence of the dragon's passing perhaps. The floor was lined with snow that had seeped inside, along with a few loose stones here and there.

"It's so dark," Isabelle murmured, "as black as pitch. How will we see once we're down there? I don't want to get lost..."

"I came prepared," Iden replied, struggling to take off his pack. He knelt to fish inside it, and then withdrew a wooden stick. It was a makeshift torch, one end wrapped tightly with a bundle of cloth. Next, he pulled out a vial of oil that he had wrapped in rags to prevent it from breaking during his journey. He upended it over the fabric, soaking it with the flammable substance. He struck his trusty pieces of flint together, and after a couple of attempts, he succeeded in creating a spark. The torch flared to life, burning brightly, and he raised it above his head to illuminate their path. The shadows were driven back by the wavering light, and before them, the tunnel wound its way deep into the mountain.

"Would you do me a favor and carry my pack and torch?" he asked, hefting his heavy tower shield in one hand. "That way, I can be at the ready should the beast surprise us. I can't say how keen its senses are, but I doubt very much that we will happen upon it before it notices that we're here."

"I suppose so," she replied, taking his torch from him and stooping to lift his pack. It was heavy, but she didn't seem to struggle with it, despite her small stature. She was a farmhand through and through. Iden closed his visor, and lifted his pike, angling it forward as they began their journey deeper into the bowels of the mountain.

It wasn't long before they came across evidence of the beast. Iden stopped, prodding at the ground with the haft of his pike.

"Look," he began, "see where the dragon's claws have scored the very rock beneath our feet? It must have passed through here many times."

"Will your armor withstand a talon that can score stone?" Isabelle asked.

"We'll find out soon enough..."

They proceeded on, making their way along the winding tunnel. Iden felt like he was exploring a giant rabbit warren hewn from stone, the slight incline in the passageway informing him that they were descending. This couldn't be a comfortable abode for a creature the size of a dragon. There must be a chamber in the belly of the mountain, large enough for the thing to stretch out, and spacious enough for it to store its hoard of gold...

"Oh!" Isabelle exclaimed, Iden stopping and raising his shield.

"What is it? Do you see something?" he asked. Visibility was not as good as it could have been with his protective visor lowered.

"There's something shiny here," she continued, stooping to pick something up. "It's a gold coin! I only spotted it because it was reflecting the torchlight." He heard a clinking sound as she dropped it into her vase for safekeeping. "I can have this one, right?"

"I don't think that parting with one coin is going to bankrupt me," Iden muttered, "just stay behind me."

"If you insist..."

The passageway finally began to widen as they ventured onward, and as they rounded a bend in the rock tunnel, the cave opened up into a vast chamber. It was just as Iden had predicted. The ceiling extended perhaps fifty feet above their heads, great, stout columns of slimy rock seeming to hold it aloft like pillars. The ground was surprisingly level save for a few scattered stalagmites, fledgling monoliths that reached towards the roof of the cave like bony fingers rising from the grave.

And there, in the center of it all, was the dragon's treasure horde. If one were to somehow lift an entire bank vault, upending its contents onto the floor like someone pouring a drink from a jug, the result might look something akin to this. It was piled in a vast heap, two or even three times as high as a man was tall, spilling out around the surrounding columns of rock almost like a liquid. The sparkling, glittering mass was made up of what must be millions of gold and silver pieces, and there were even more extravagant treasures within the pile. Iden could make out bejeweled goblets that sported beautiful gemstones, rubies and emeralds glinting under the flickering light of the torch. There were crowns and tiaras, scabbards encrusted with precious stones, riches beyond imagining.

The dragon hadn't merely collected these trinkets in the same way that a bird might steal baubles to line its nest, the beast had been decorating its lair. Iden could see a shining suit of gilded armor that looked as though it might once have belonged to a high ranking Paladin, it was standing upright against one of the pillars, a long spear of impressive craftsmanship at its side. There was a heraldic banner sporting the colors of a house that he did not recognize, tattered and decaying, but held aloft by a golden pole that had been driven into the rock like a stake.

Like a moth drawn by the light of a candle, Iden was transfixed for a moment, taking a couple of faltering steps towards the heap. Everywhere that he looked there was something new to entice him, from scattered coins to chalices forged from solid gold. How had the dragon accrued such wealth? How many merchant caravans must it have raided, how many keeps must it have plundered?

"What do you think?" Isabelle whispered, holding the torch aloft. "Is it everything that you imagined?"

"And more," he muttered, his breath misting as it escaped the vents in his helmet. "The dragon does not seem to be here, it might be out hunting for food. Perhaps we can stage some kind of ambush, and...hey, what are you doing?"

Isabelle marched past him, approaching the pile, and he watched as she placed her golden vase gingerly upon it. She drove it a little deeper into the mass of coins so that it would stand upright, a few of them rolling across the floor as they escaped.

"There, everything in its place," she said as she stood back to appraise it.

"Don't you need to present your offering to the dragon?" Iden asked, confused. "Or will it pick up your scent and know you that way?"

She spun around to face him, her auburn hair and her long skirt fanning outwards with the motion, a broad smile on her face. Suddenly, there was a flash of light as a torch flared to life on the far wall of the cavern. It burned with an intense, blue heat that slowly faded into a warmer yellow, more of them following behind it. Before his eyes, a ring made up of dozens of them ignited one by one, as if an invisible person was walking between them and lighting them with a candle. They illuminated the whole cave, casting even more light on the treasure horde, but his gaze was firmly fixed on Isabelle.

"I warned you that the real fool would be revealed once we reached the dragon's lair," she giggled, her voice echoing off the rock walls. As he watched, her eyes began to change. The vibrant green that he had so admired shifted in hue until it was a shining amber, her round pupils becoming the vertical slits of a serpent. They seemed to glow beneath her brow, radiating an infernal heat, like balls of molten metal plucked from a forge.

Dark smoke billowed from the corners of her mouth as her laughter became riotous, her teeth no longer flat, but pointed like the fangs of a wolf. Her clothing caught fire, the flames engulfing the fabric as quickly as it had the torches, and in a moment the girl was sheathed in the roaring blaze. Her shawl was reduced to charred fragments, carried away by a gust of wind that made the torch that she was holding flicker, the burning remnants of her blouse and her long skirt falling away from her slim frame to expose the porcelain skin that lay beneath.

Even in his fear and confusion, he could not keep his eyes from wandering. Isabelle was just as perfectly sculpted as he had imagined, her hourglass hips tapering into a slim waist, her flat belly lined with two rows of subtle muscle. Her breasts were firm and pert, wobbling softly with her cackling, full enough to make for an admirable handful. Her thighs were as smooth as glass, and between them was a tuft of hair as red as that of her head.

There was something growing across her flawless skin, however. It began at the tips of her fingers and toes, her flesh taking on an unhealthy, purple pallor. Her skin began to crack, hardening into iridescent, blue scales. They sprouted from her body, spreading rapidly until they covered her forelimbs, talons like black hooks growing from her fingers. From beneath her long hair emerged four gnarled horns, twisting and spiraling, her delicate features elongating into a snout.

There was an audible thud as a long, thick tail dropped to the ground behind her, growing ever longer as he watched. It was coated in the same shining scales in shades of blue and green, long, striped spines rising up from it like colorful knitting needles. Her body too was ballooning in scale, her stature now far greater than it had been only moments before. Eight feet, nine feet, the slight girl was now towering over him like a monster as he took refuge behind his shield.

A pair of great, leathery wings unfurled from her back like those of a gargoyle, their flapping making the torches sputter. Her face was already that of a dragon, and the last vestiges of her smooth skin were soon replaced with a mosaic of beige-colored scales along the underside of her tail and her stomach, her breasts vanishing into a barrel chest. She dropped to all fours, her wicked claws sparking on the rock, her muscles expanding to support her new frame. Her reptilian maw opened to reveal rows of sharp teeth as long as his index finger, slaver drooping from her scaly lips as she pulled them back in a snarl, black smoke pouring from her nostrils like the snorting of an angry bull.