DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [117]
“Glas never mentions the two-headed dragon, the pictures or words etched into the walls, or the unusual formation of the grooves in the stone.”
“What does that mean? That he wasn’t very observant?”
Regidor shook his head. “This section is inconsistent with the careful notations on other pages of his diary.” Regidor closed the book and tapped the cover with the claw tip of one finger. “I suspect that Glas was never in one of these tunnels. He probably recorded what someone had told him, not what he had seen with his own eyes.”
“That means we have been depending on a map drawn blindly.”
“That doesn’t mean it is entirely inaccurate.” Regidor stood. “Let’s move on. The quality of the air is improving steadily. We should reach an opening to the outside very soon.”
Bardon stood, stuffed his trash into an inner pocket, and dusted his hands off on his trousers. “I’m eager to get this underground journey over with.”
Regidor took the lead. Bardon followed six to ten feet behind him. They passed several tunnels branching off to the right, but none on the left. Ahead there seemed to be an intersection where a tunnel completely crossed the main one. Bardon heard a whoosh like a sudden intake of breath, and then a huge white stone rolled across their path in the junction ahead, blocking the way.
Both men drew their swords. Regidor leapt to Bardon’s side and turned so that they stood back to back. They listened and waited.
A scrape across the stone floor gave away the location of whomever or whatever else waited in the warren. The sound repeated, closer.
Regidor sniffed the air. “It is the same dragon who startled us with a whack of its tail some time ago.”
“I suppose we are going to find out if it has two heads.”
Regidor grinned and nodded. “And whether it is hungry.”
The creature approached them from the tunnel they had just passed through.
“Ah,” said Regidor as it came closer, but still could not be seen. “It has two heads, and it is hungry. They are quite interested in having something besides druddum for their next meal.”
“I had noted the almost nonexistent druddum population in this warren.”
“Indeed.”
“So interesting that you can mindspeak with our opponents.” Bardon breathed deeply, relaxing his muscles in preparation for the fight. He flexed the fingers that held the hilt of his sword. “It would, perhaps, be more useful if they responded to your eloquence by abandoning their intent to devour us.”
“The problem with mindspeaking with these snake dragons is they don’t join in the conversation.”
Two scuffing noises indicated the beast was much closer.
“I,” Regidor continued, “make perfectly reasonable suggestions. And I am ignored.”
“For instance?”
“I suggest that we taste ghastly. One head tells the other that it will be nice to each have its own body on which to munch. I say we are mighty warriors who will hack their sluggish, overgrown body to bits. It says it needs to approach with greater stealth.”
“It’s using quite an elaborate vocabulary.”
“No, no, Bardon. It is my vocabulary. I am merely interpreting the grisly mental images that I detect in its feeble brains.”
“So it isn’t a particularly smart dragon.”
“Correct. Both heads together couldn’t spell cat.” Regidor pointed with the tip of his sword. “There, in the tunnel, just out of view, it stands, watching us.”
Bardon heard the hoarse chorus of breathing from the two heads.
“It was smart enough to block our way, then circle back to attack us.”
“Merely copying someone else’s strategy.”
“Whose strategy?”
“One of the tumanhofer hunting parties.”
Bardon considered the ramifications of Regidor’s statement. This must be the original two-headed monster. A descendant wouldn’t have memory of a battle with tumanhofers eons ago. Long memory, but not very clever. There must be a way to trick this creature.
“Regidor, I recall hearing of Wizard Risto doing a particularly clever visual deception. He created an illusion in which he, or several images of himself, stood about the room.