Dragon Treasure by SJ Sanders

Chapter 26

They had missed the midday meal, but Tania didn’t mind. She stretched out her sore muscles leisurely as they walked through the corridors of the monastery, ignoring the shadows and effigies that surrounded them. She didn’t want to think of them while she was feeling so content and happy. Not even knowing that they would be forced to dine with the creepy fucking priests and nuns ruined her mood.

Now if only Drathnor could relax a little. Although he had collapsed into a big purring cuddle beast after their romp, whatever ease he showed in their rooms disappeared completely the moment they entered the monastery’s corridor.

She glanced up at him, his big body bristling. Even the dorsal sail that ran down the back of his head and neck was partially erect as his sharp eyes scanned their surroundings continuously. The soft rattling sound of his wings was the only other noise that accompanied their footsteps. His gaze seemed particularly trained on the ceiling.

Curious, she shifted her gaze casually along the hall. Tania frowned as she caught sight of a pair of leering gargoyles that lurked just above the entrance into the main hall, their mouths parted to show rows of teeth set in grotesque faces. Each gargoyle boasted several muscled legs ending with massive, clawed paws. Halfway down each leg, a segmented leg like that of an insect jutted out, each tipped with an enormous claw or stinger. With the numerous horns that dotted its flesh, connected with visible ligaments and muscles, they speared into the air like wicked blades.

The detail was exquisitely horrific. With the darkness that clung to the air around them, she could almost swear that they were alive, watching them as they passed beneath the archway. She repressed a reflexive shiver, shaking it off.

She wasn’t going to let this place get to her.

They were nothing more than statues, poised together at the opposite sides of the entryway like twin predators waiting to pounce.

Tania’s fingertips skated over the pommel of the dagger at her hip, the cool metal soothing as they drew closer and beneath the statues. Her skin prickled, and even Drathnor rumbled an uneasy growl, as if they were both waiting for the stone creatures to fall upon them. It was absurd, but she couldn’t help but wonder how she had missed seeing them before. It was easy enough to rationalize, to tell herself that she had simply been too focused on escaping the priests and fleeing from the dragon, but that rang hollow even to her as they turned down the hall into the main corridor.

Her muscles tightened with unease at the sight before her. Everywhere she looked, there were more of those terrible gargoyles. Glancing back down the way they came, she saw the hunkering forms blending into the masonry as her eyes pierced the darkness. There were dozens tucked into various nooks and crannies, and even more in the main corridor. Few bore any likeness to the others, each some twisted chimera, snarling down, waiting for their moment to attack.

There was no way she would have missed them. One or two maybe, but this was impossible.

A large wing stretched, cupping around her, surrounding her in Drathnor’s cool scent.

“Be at ease. The magic is not activated. They slumber,” he rumbled.

Tania let out a shaky breath. “Are you telling me that they are… real?” she whispered.

She had heard of mages creating golems to work as servitors, but this far surpassed anything she had ever heard of or witnessed. Even those weren’t technically alive, but were merely activated by their magical coding, not unlike droids. If they slept, that posed a far more frightening question.

What the fuck were they?

“Things that do not belong in this realm,” he growled. “Unnatural perversions created by ancient magic wielders who experimented where they should not have. These great wizards were eventually destroyed after much bloodshed and their creations banished into a darkness beyond all other worlds.” He eased closer to her, his body radiating fury. “They were banished there for a reason. I do not know with what these monks toy, but it is a dangerous game.”

Tania shot her mate a confused look. “But what does that have to do with Tarachna?”

Drathnor hissed unhappily. “Tarachna is a goddess of all arts, all that is hidden. It was from among some of her followers that such magic sprung. They claimed it was blessed by the goddess, awakened by her dragons.” He shook his head. “Their intent is becoming clear. They will be disappointed. They will find no dragon to aid them in this,” he snarled. “Alone they will only be able to bring through whatever their magic can manage, but they will not bring about a great plague of these monstrosities alone.”

She swallowed, eyeing one of the closest creatures. It looked like a serpent, except that its head was all wrong, segmented with numerous eyes and numerous horned plates. Its mouth was a maw of serrated teeth layering one upon the other until they disappeared down its throat. The end of its tail was curved up, armed with numerous blade-like extensions that could only be designed for death and suffering.

“But they have brought some,” she whispered.

That couldn’t be denied. The thing in the pools of the bath, the creatures lurking along her ceiling at night in their rooms…What more did they manage to awaken?

“Yes,” he growled, the word hissing out of him. “It would take considerable time and energy to even bring forth and manifest the vessels of these creatures. To awaken even one would take a large store of magic. I imagine those that they have awakened, they could only have managed over years. These,” his muttered, jerking his head to the very creature she had been staring at, “are a collection that has been waiting.”

“Waiting for a dragon,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he agreed. His gaze softened as it touched her, his wing closing around her in comfort as he dropped his head to speak only for her to hear. “They wait in vain. Soon we will leave, and I will alert my kin. No dragon will tolerate this place to stand.”

It couldn’t come soon enough for her. No amount of riches contained within the monastery was worth allowing it to remain standing.

“Promise me that we can watch as this place is destroyed,” she bit out.

Now the high cleric’s fervor for gaining the dragon’s presence in the monastery made sense. But was he in on it, or a tool of someone else in power? And what part could the nun possibly have played?

Drathnor rumbled an agreement but fell silent as they made their way to the common dining room shared by clergy and pilgrims. Tania’s lips thinned, pinching back any other words she might have said, her back ramrod straight as they entered.

Although this was a room she had never entered, her skin prickled seeing more of those creatures were set in the eaves above a long table draped in blue and silver. Lit by numerous enchanted lanterns, the light did little to push back the oppressive wrongness that hung thick in the air. Yet everyone dined and talked together as if they didn’t notice it. The priests and nuns who sat at one end of the long table, though politely segregated from each other, spoke quietly among themselves as they scooped food from the communal dishes at the end, their expressions lively as they talked. The few pilgrims staying overnight at the monastery talked in excited yet hushed tones as if unaware of the threat surrounding them. Even the high cleric looked on benevolently from his position at the end of the table.

As much as she detested the fanatic, he hardly seemed to fit the part of a vile resurrector of monsters. In fact, the entire incident in the baths he placed at the feet of the goddess herself. He was no doubt conniving, but a master mage was hard to imagine. Whatever his reasons for wanting the dragon in the monastery, be it coerced or personal, it didn’t line up with what Drathnor told her. Someone else was running the show, but as her eyes scanned those gathered in the room, she couldn’t determine who might be the source of the evil being unleashed.

No one could be trusted.

Donning a mask of calm, she strode in at her mate’s side, determined to reveal nothing of her thoughts or draw any suspicion. Peeking up at him, Tania noted that nothing but cool disdain showed in Drathnor’s expression. Aided by his inhuman features, he was inscrutable, showing nothing that he did not want known. Even his dorsal had flatted again, suggesting he was unconcerned and only deigning to grace them with his presence to acquire food.

Jerard smiled and gave a welcoming nod as they entered. Although he was wearing his helmet again and standing at one of the walls with the rest of the guard—no doubt waiting to take their meal until later—she was now able to pick him out from the others by the silver insignia inlaid with blue jewel enamel on the buckles that held his cape in place. Even the plume of his helmet was marked with silver at the front of the cascade of dark blue. Little of his face could be seen except for the lower half, his eyes shadowed by the helmet.

“Sit, little one,” Drathnor rumbled.

He hovered behind her, his wings flared around them as she took her seat in one of the empty chairs between the clergy and pilgrims. A few curious glances were cast her way by the visitors, but they were fleeting as eyes fastened on her mate as he lowered himself onto a chair beside her. It creaked audibly, and he settled his tail around it, no doubt reinforcing it since it made no further complaints.

“Ah, our resident dragon joins us at last,” Dephery called out, his goblet raising in salute. “We are pleased that you have decided to grace us with your presence.”

Drathnor’s nostrils flared, his eyes focusing on the high cleric before returning to the food he began to ladle onto her plate.

“My mate requires food, and there was an incident with the droid,” he rumbled.

The priest’s bushy eyebrows rose in surprise.

“My most humble apologies, Lord Drathnor. We have seasonal mages who visit during the warm months. I will see about getting another droid. Unfortunately, as that is some months away, I do hope that you will enjoy partaking your meals with us here until then. No doubt this will be a moment that our visitors will remember and cherish for years to come,” he added with a smile toward those staring with fascination at her dragon’s profile.

Drathnor grunted, setting the spoon down with a heavy clatter before piling his own plate high with whole cuts of meat. He didn’t even acknowledge the presence of the pilgrims before bolting one of those large cuts whole. Someone gasped and Tania held back a smirk at the way his audience cringed. Even the high cleric’s lips puckered at the sight.

She ate her own food in quick, concise bites, unconcerned for the sounds of bones cracked by her mate’s teeth or the wet sound of the meat sliding down his throat. She paused every now and again to shoot an annoyed look as someone whispered, “Dear gods.” A few even gurgled before excusing themselves to rush from the dining room.

Tania refrained from rolling her eyes. While naturally it was a little disconcerting to witness the first time, they were being a bit overly dramatic. He was a fucking dragon, after all. It was unreasonable to expect him to eat like a human being. Besides, his manners were no worse than some of the humans she had traveled with from time to time. In fact, if anything he ate cleanly. Not a bit of grease or juices got anywhere. Not that any one of the rapidly paling people watching appreciated such a thing.

Turning her attention back to her food, she frowned as her stomach suddenly twisted. Pressing a firm hand against her belly, she winced as it bubbled up and protruded against her palm. Drawing in a panicked breath, she opened her mouth to shout for help but was unable to utter a word before she began to gag and cough. Her arm jerked, sending her plate crashing to the floor. Drathnor’s wings snapped open, his chair toppling as he surged to his feet.

She could feel the rough scales of his hands grabbing her as she thrashed, his voice demanding to know what was wrong. She shook her head, unable to answer. Tears streaming from her eyes, she felt the hard knot in her belly grow and expand as if it were forcing its way up through her body.

Her throat swelled, cutting off her breath except through her nose. Tania pushed away from him, out of his arms. Although he scrambled to maintain his grip on her, she thrashed until she dropped to the floor. Landing on her hands and knees, her mate hissing and snarling at any who neared her from where he hunched over her, she heaved over and over, desperate to get whatever was crawling from the depths of her body out of her.

Blood trickled from her mouth as she heaved again, and a thin tentacle breached her mouth. It wiggled back and forth, forcing its way further out as another tentacle and another joined it. Eyes widening with horror, Tania tried to scream, but no sound came out from around whatever was making its way up her throat.

Above her, Drathnor snarled, his hands gripping around her chest, compressing upward as something shocked from his body into hers. She was distantly aware of the mill of feet around her and the panicked shouts of those fleeing. High Cleric Dephery’s authoritative voice called for a containment vessel.

Her body convulsed, and the thing pushed forward, its tentacles slithering over her face and neck as it crawled out of her mouth, a thick mucus of green slime bursting from around it as it made its entrance with a shrill shriek. Its abdomen flared out as several large fins slapped the stone floor.

Retching, Tania emptied her stomach, her eyes still fixed on the thing. Enormous fangs lifted from the top of its abdomen, a gaping, suctioning mouth opening wide as it let out another ear-piercing shriek. Dozens of long tentacles unfolded and whipped around, each one four times longer than its body in a horrible mass that she saw every night in her nightmares. As a colony of dark eyes on thin stalks just above its mouth turned toward her, Tania screamed and screamed, the sound thin from her ravaged throat.

Drathnor roared, but Jerard scooped it into a box before he could rip the creature apart with whispered promises to dispose of the foul thing immediately within the furnaces. Her screams rose louder and louder through her mind with the realization of what spawned the parasite that just exited her body; she didn’t hear her mate’s response. She was only aware of his strong arms lifting her and carrying her into a room on the ground floor that smelled of antiseptic.

A cool hand touched her brow, the prick of a needle, and then a bliss of nothingness fell all around her.