[puffyn]

And on to the good stuff...

---
C'tis, Turn 9

The late summer sun beat down as the lizards crossed the parched plains. Ruli couldn't imagine finer weather for a hike. Many kinds of lizards lived in the kingdom of C'tis – Ash'embe and the others were children of the damp swamps, and clearly unhappy with the dryness of the air – but Ruli was a desert lizard. And the plains were almost desert, this time of year.

Especially with the recent drought. Nothing green, and almost nothing brown, could be seen on the horizon, the only relief being here and there an interesting rock formation. They were walking on an ancient lava bed, Cole said one night at camp. "A very long time ago," the dragon had told them, "the Rim Mount used to glow for miles with molten rock." Ruli thought his use of such archaic units something of an affectation.

"Was... was... was the mountain killed by the frost giants?" asked one of the troops, a timid little fellow whose name Ruli really ought to remember. Clearly he at least had been listening to Laph's yarn.

"No", said Cole. "It was dead long before then. Even mountains grow old and die," he said, almost wistfully. "But we may find something interesting if we pick through its bones."

A few of the little swamp guards swiveled their heads around to look, nervously, at Ruli. Cole had been teasing him like this ever since the incident with the mouse, which for some reason he thought was highly amusing. Everyone else thought it was one more reason to be wary of the weird winter egg.

---

They had paused by a dry riverbed to rest. Ruli wandered off to explore. Smaller than most lizards in his cohort, he'd been pleased to discover he could easily keep up with and outlast these specially trained, elite lizards (except for Ash'embe, who was always running ahead, trying futilely to keep up with Cole). Of course, I'm not carrying a full suit of armor and a falchion like everyone else on this "camping trip", thought Ruli.

He wandered up the river bed, to a place where dead bushes lined the shore. How long has this river been gone? he wondered. A season? A year? A hundred years? Plants decayed quickly when they died, he knew, but it was hard to shake the feeling that these skeletal bushes had been there for aeons. He looked at the shriveled bark on the stubby trunks, the thin brittle tendrils that must have once held leaves, and fed and sheltered small creatures like... mice. There, in a mat of dried grass and twigs, a small nest. He counted three, no, four little mouse skeletons curled up in the nest, huddled desperately against the cold. They had failed; now they were only bones.

It was enough.

Ruli thought back to something Great Grandfather had said, during his brief apprenticeship. Lugal-zagesi was an ancient shriveled lizard who had journeyed to C'tis from somewhere very far away. There were other lizard nests on this world, of course, small enclaves surrounded by warmlings, but Great Grandfather had come from much further away. Lizards lived on thousands of different worlds, scattered across the galaxy, and it was not uncommon for some few to travel far from their home nest, the way Aetonyx had. But Great Grandfather never spoke of his travels, and the young lizards could only guess how he'd gotten all his scars. Rumor had it he had lost his tail four times...

"I really only know about living things," Great-Grandfather had said. "Some people say, when a thing dies, it's gone. But I've seen enough death... as long as there's something left – leaves, a tooth, bones – it's not really dead." When Ruli had asked him to elaborate, he had claimed ignorance, declared his joints were bothering him, and given Ruli a dozen musty books to look through. Most of them were in indecipherable scripts.

But one book... Ruli dredged up the memory. Yes, that was it, arrange them like so, mumble this... He closed his eyes, searching, reached out...


It was the most bizarre thing Ash'embe had seen in his entire life. They were all ready to march, until Cole had suggested that someone really ought to fetch Ruli, and then he'd looked right at Ash'embe. If Ruli were so bloody clever, he'd know not to disappear when we're about to leave, he'd thought to himself. But he wouldn't dream of refusing a request from Cole. Just last night, the dragon had confided in them that there was an outpost of men up ahead, stealing something that was rightfully his, and that they should... how had he put it? "We must be prepared for any eventuality." Ash'embe wished he could get his voice to sound like that.

So then he'd asked around, and little Zu, who Ash'embe privately thought shouldn't be there, too weak, always asking questions – just like another annoying lizard, come to think of it – had piped up that he'd watched the winter-egg go up the dry river bed. As usual, this made no sense: if there'd been water in it, of course, Ash'embe would gladly have gone to the water's edge, anything to be damp again. But who cares about a dry river? Nothing there but a bunch of rocks.

And then he'd seen the mouse. It was dancing, its skull bobbling on its bony limbs, its tail bones swaying despite the complete lack of breeze. A tiny little voice in Ash'embe's head admired the artistry, the way the joints fit together, the way Ruli was keeping it under control. The loud voice in Ash'embe's throat said, "What the scale-leaver's-feather do you think you're doing?"

The winter-egg startled, broke concentration, and the mouse fell to the ground, just a bunch of bones again. "We're leaving," said Ash'embe, as icily as he could manage in the thirty-degree heat, and strode off while the winter-egg sputtered something behind him. We're late, and Cole's going to be upset, thought Ash'embe, because Ruli was playing with a dead mouse. No wonder the guy gave him the creeps.

---

They reached the foothills an hour before dark. Cole had refrained from darting ahead, though it pained him to be so close and not swoop in; but it wouldn't do to let them know he was coming. He forced himself to trudge at the slow speed of the small lizards. They mean well, he thought. But what I wouldn't give to have Dagda or Alagon along... At least young Arruli was shaping up nicely. Cole was pleased that he had figured out how to work with skeletons without the aid of a mentor. He would have to arrange for some better lessons, to see what the hatchling was capable of. After they dispensed with the current interlopers, of course.

He could almost smell it, from here. The sound of hammers and carts and other man-noise came to him, and he signaled to Ash'embe to move his troops into position. The miners were completely surprised by the attack, though they fought back bravely, with their picks and shovels and a few swords. Cole noted with some sadness that the little questioning lizard, Zu, had gotten disoriented in battle, run straight toward the men, and been stabbed through. Ruli, who had looked a little shocked at the sudden onset of violence, was the only group healer, and rushed up to Zu's body. Then Cole flew out from where he'd been hiding, drew his wings out to their full length, and breathed fire onto the closest group of warmlings. They made pleasant crackling noises as they burnt up. He breathed on another group, and smiled thinly at the growing terror in their eyes. That's what you get for disturbing dragon hordes. The Rim Mountain stash of volcano-gold had always been one of his favorites.

The battle was over quickly; the warmling miners were no match for swamp guards, even if they were only children, nor the enraged fire of a dragon with a cause. Cole noticed with some interest that what finally got the men to turn and run was not so much that they were being cut down by Ash'embe's forces, but that the corpse of the small lizard Zu, the only lizard to fall, had gotten up, and was marching toward their lines with a purposeful stride he'd never had in life. Ruli's eyes blazed as he watched the dead lizard march down his murderers.

That went well, thought Cole. There was a cave in the next mountain range over, where an elderly dragon had lived long ago, fondly carving his gem garden until the chasm walls gleamed with a thousand glittering roses. The old dragon had long since disappeared, and nobody else had dared move in so close to Cole's dominion. Perhaps it would be time to pay the mountains a visit. Cole was very fond of roses.