<u>11</u>


    “What has happened? Who tickles my hide to awaken me?” rumbled a very loud, very feminine voice.


    <u>Stone giant</u>, Lerendar thought to himself, drawing his sword while clutching his daughter, the baby and Tormun’s hysterical wife. Not that he blamed her. They’d plunged down into a pit that almost instantly closed overhead, entombing them all.


    …But their tomb was alive, and it wanted an answer. Risking a bit of light, the elf-lord resheathed his blade. Supposed that it didn’t much matter which way he faced, as there was nothing but grainy, flexing grey rock on all sides. Tunnels again, going nowhere, this time. Clearing his throat, Lerendar bowed slightly, saying,


    “Deepest apologies for disturbing your rest, Daughter of Mountain and Cliff. I am an elf of the northland, and these are my kin. We were brought here unwilling, as we journeyed in search of my brother.”


    The stone all around and beneath him buckled and lurched. The giantess shifted position a bit, seeming reluctant as Miche to stir from its bed.


    “It is not yet the time of last battle,” groaned- thundered- roared out their captor. “I sense no great dragons here. Chaos and Order strive, but they are still pinioned together.”


    News to Lerendar, who noticed only those things he could touch, taste, fight or make love to. The baby was fussing, so he did a quick search of his faerie pockets, coming up with a dusty molasses-twist.


    “Here,” he whispered, thrusting the candy at Lady Faleena along with Zara and Bean. “Feed her. Tell her a story. Do whatever you have to… but…”


    <u>‘But keep her quiet,</u>’ Lerendar finished, inside of his own racing mind. A story. Quiet. Back to sleep…


    Tormun’s wife seemed to pick up the drift of his thoughts. Though a bit scorched at the edges, the petite wood-elf nodded agreement.


    “I will see to the little ones,” she promised him, wiping her face with the swift brush of one upraised shoulder. Managed a bit of a smile, even.


    Right. Beatriz was out there, someplace, possible dying, anchored by Tormun’s vow… and he could help them best by calming their stone giant battle ground.


    “All the great dragons have fallen, Heart of the World,” he soothed, adding, “Of course… you know the tale of how Lady Flame deserted her first consort, Father Ocean? From Epic Three, it tells how the last ancient dragon, Elzyth, was slaughtered by rampaging giants.”


    Lerendar held his breath, praying hard as rumbling stone seemed to echo and throw back his words. Then,


    “I am not of such age, Smear of Flesh. I do not ken these happenings. What is the tale, and how fell that accursed dark wyrm?”


    <u>Score</u>. Sometimes, you rolled the dice and came up with full sixes. Skipping the invocation (with mental apologies and offers of major sacrifice, later) Lerendar bowed his blond head. Then, in a clear, sing-song voice, he began the third epic.


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    “Lady Flame, Dancer and Devourer, ever hungry, ever leaping. She who grows and renews. <u>Seselisa</u>, to the elves; those who were made by the lone Great God, before that one shattered. She was fated to love Father Ocean, he who takes and who never gives back. Who douses the fires of earth and batters the shore without ceasing.”


    “We are created where lava meets ocean,” interrupted the stone giant, musing aloud in a voice like earthquake and landslide and velvet. “I was born a short while ago, and I have been mostly dreaming since birth; awaiting the call to arise and to fight.”


    Lerendar nodded. Then, not sure that his captor could detect the small motion, the elf added,


    “It has been a very long time since the last eruption, Child of the World’s Inner Flame. By elven standards, at least. We recall such events with dread… though to your kind, it is surely no more than tossing in bed or scratching an itch.”


    The giantess rumbled agreement at that. She seemed amused by the thought, so Ren plunged onward, saying,


    “In her final massive eruption, Lady Flame collapsed into Lord Ocean’s embrace, nearly destroying her own vital heart and half of Karandun. It was a violent, tempestuous union,” he said. “All the world shook, the day grew longer, and even the sun hid her face. Many stone giants were born, rising to stalk the land, putting an end to whole nations and races. The sky filled with lightning and ash, hammering the ground below with red-hot pebbles of glass.”


    “A great sight, indeed,” murmured their stony enclosure, sounding a little bit quieter.


    Lerendar had one of those self-same pebbles, which he’d found as a kid many ages before. Pulling it out of a faerie pocket, the elf-lord next held that glassy teardrop against the nearest stone wall. Rock flexed and moved like the questing lips of a horse, seizing the object and pulling it off his hand. Moments later...


    “Yes,” said the giantess. “This is very old birth-blood. Continue. What happened next? What of the dragon?” Her voice came lower and slower, now, with a greater pause between thoughts. (And maybe his crazy gamble was working.)


    “Sherad-that-was plunged into a vast crack in the earth, bringing an end to that mighty fey kingdom,” said Lerendar. “Then, Elzyth the slayer, last of the ancient gold dragons, was struck from the air by a rain of huge boulders. Too coated with ash to fly, Elzyth was quickly surrounded by giants who battered and stomped her to death.”


    “Good,” growled the giantess. “A fitting end to a flying snake, Flesh-Dot! Then what? How ends your story?”


    Might have been just flaring hope, but she sounded sleepy to Lerendar, who went on with the tale, saying,


    “Afterward, Lady Flame slept for an eon. Restful, peaceful, calm sleep. Then, as new mountains arose, flowing with gentler heat, she woke and abandoned the ocean lord, taking to herself a pair of twin consorts. Alaryn and Volmar, they are called by my folk: lords of fire and ash. Together, the three set about healing the land, calling forth She-of-the-Flowers, again. So, life returned to the world, the scourge of dragon-kind ended, and the earth-born went back to sleep.”


    Speaking of sleep, the stone giant yawned. A literal opening appeared like a great, fanged cave mouth right before Lerendar. The clamor of battle returned, along with daylight and the powerful stench of corruption and flame.


    “I like your story, Blob of Goo,” murmured the stone giant. “Now, leave me. And stop those insects from scratching my hide, lest I rise up and summon my kin.”


    Kin...? The mountains themselves, Lerendar guessed, turning suddenly cold in the midst of success. He bowed once more.


    “They’ll stop,” he vowed. “If I have to bind and gag and stack them like cordwood!”


    Meant it, too. Zara was humming her mum’s favorite lullaby, he noticed; the one about greeting a sleepy full moon.


    Lerendar took his small daughter back into his arms, shifting her onto one armored hip. Kissed the top of her curly dark hair, saying,


    “Love you, Scamp. Thanks for the help.”


    Then, wrapping his other arm tight around Lady Faleena and Bean, he stepped out onto a narrow ledge, into the thick of a very close fight.