Return of the Dragon Slayers

Chapter One

Refugees

For the first time since he had arrived at the Museum of Gigantic Achievement, Knox heard no sounds of dragons wreaking havoc above. No buildings collapsing. No primordial roars. Only silence.

Protected by an iron door, the dim room occupied a corner of the lowest level of the museum. The mismatched furnishings looked like they consisted of the surplus from diverse displays showing giant civilization over time. A huge board against one wall showcased taxidermied animals—horse, cow, elk, tiger, boar—pinned and labeled like insects. Off to one side, a young giant girl cut the final pieces of an apple, feeding the wedges to a younger giant boy, who accepted the bites of food around his whimpering.

A matronly giant with her hair bound in a scarf, a massive infant cradled in one arm, stared upward hopefully. Trickles of dust no longer sifted through the cracks in the ceiling. The woman was tasked with caring for the eight giant children in the room and the ailing, elderly giant on the bed while the city was under attack. Knox, Tess, and the two satyrs, Newel and Doren, were doing their best to share the space without ending up taxidermied themselves.

“Are the dragons taking a break from trashing the town?” Newel asked.

“Setting a trap, more likely,” Doren said. “Hoping to lure careless satyrs topside.”

“I’m not sure we’re a priority,” Knox said. “If they knew we were down here, they could get to us easy enough.”

“Watch your tongues,” the matronly giant whispered. “Many dragons have excellent hearing. They hunt best in stillness.”

“She makes a valid point,” Doren whispered.

Newel shook his head. He spoke quietly. “Sounded like the whole museum came down. The demolition might be over. We’re beneath a pile of rubble.”

“I’m hungry, Nesha,” Dirk, an eight-year-old giant, said. Knox was barely taller than the boy’s knees.

“Tighten your belt, lad,” the matronly giant replied. “I’m no magician. We already ate what we brought. There wasn’t time to gather much.”

“Don’t get any funny ideas about us,” Doren said warily. “We’re guests of the queen. Plus, we’re gamey.”

“They won’t eat us,” Tess said from where she stood by a four-year-old female giant three times her height. “We’re friends.”

“The wyrms will come for us,” croaked the old giant on the bed. “They have a score to settle, mark my words. They’ll ferret us out one by one.”

“Shut your trap,” Nesha said. “You’ll frighten the ­children.”

Propping himself up on one elbow, the old giant gave a wheezy chuckle. “No use coddling them now. Their folks are dead, and they’ll soon follow. Our days of feasting are over. The hour of becoming the meal has arrived.”

A couple of the giant kids began to cry.

“You shush,” Nesha scolded, flinging a wooden saltshaker at him. “Now you’ve done it. If the dragons didn’t hear us before, they do now.”

The old giant flopped back on his pillow. “Bah. Best to have it over and done with. We played with fire longer than we should have. We all knew what we were doing. It’s time to get burned.”

Knox shuddered. It had been ugly up in the streets.

Knox had expected to find the city secure when he, Tess, and the satyrs arrived at Humburgh through the queen’s passage from Terastios. Humburgh should have been under the protection of Humbuggle and his Wizenstone. Instead, the sky giants guarding the Humburgh side of the passage informed them that the defenses had mysteriously crumbled. Humburgh—particularly the section of the city called Big Side, where the giants dwelled—was under attack.

A giant guard named Morgana had been dispatched to take Knox, Tess, Newel, and Doren to a safe room within the thick walls of the museum. After placing the four of them into a cage for transport, she had carried them outside, the cage tucked in her arm like a football clutched by a running back.

When Morgana exited to the street, a two-headed dragon armored with jagged purple scales glided overhead, just above the rooftops, widespread wings momentarily blocking the sunlight. The pair of heads sent a deluge of fire and lightning onto the street, and Morgana had ducked into a recessed doorway, raising a huge rectangular shield to deflect the conflagration. After the dragon passed, Morgana proceeded across red-hot cobblestones, passing windows that had exploded inward, a blazing vegetable cart, and a pair of charred giant corpses.

As Morgana ran, Knox became petrified with over­powering dragon fear, Tess clinging to his waist. Immobilized inside the transport cage, they had absorbed the sights and sounds of battle. Dragons snarled, buildings buckled, fire crackled, and thunder boomed. Giants shouted orders and bellowed challenges. Smoke hazed the air, but through it, Knox could see dragons strafing Big Side with acid, flame, and lightning. Dozens of dragons approached in the distance.

After dodging around a corner, they found a greenish-gold dragon harnessed and bridled to pull a wagon. The dragon wrenched against the harness, twisting and bucking, trying to break free as the driver of the wagon, a broad giant with a bushy beard, flogged the creature liberally. Leather creaked and wood splintered as the dragon struggled, rocking the wagon from side to side while the giant driver cracked his whip.

An enraged maroon dragon with black markings swooped in from one side, and a gray, speckled dragon attacked from the other. The maroon dragon bit off the arm holding the whip, then sprayed the giant with an exhalation of orange gel that made him fall from the wagon, screaming and tearing at his skin. The speckled dragon destroyed the restraints, freeing the greenish-gold dragon, who turned and pounced on the driver as he attempted to rise.

Knox looked away as the dragons converged to feed.

The giants seemed panicked and unprepared against the deadly fury of the attackers. Knox glimpsed a few giants staunchly fighting the dragons, including one who shot a dragon out of the sky with a colossal bow. He noticed an orange dragon dead in the street, back broken, wings crumpled. But he saw many slain giants, and others cowering among the rubble or furtively peering from windows.

The giants were formidable, but Knox could see that the attack was going to be a massacre. The magical barriers Humbuggle had put in place around the city would have prevented an attack from outside, but clearly those barriers had failed. And the giants, who had grown to view the dragons like domesticated animals, seemed shocked by their unbridled power and fury.

The Museum of Gigantic Achievement was a grand stone building crowned by three domes with statues of mighty giants, arms upraised, serving as pillars. The marble facade was blackened in places, and the charred remnants of flags and banners dripped bright embers. Avoiding the stairs that led to the main lobby, Morgana had used a side entrance and raced down a flight of stairs, along a hall, and then to the iron door where the safe room was located. After a shouted conversation through the door, Morgana had left her charges in Nesha’s care.

Sword drawn, Morgana had swiftly departed, and a horrible clamor had continued from above ever since.

Until now.

“I think it’s over,” Knox said quietly. “The dragons don’t need to be subtle.”

Doren held up a finger. “Unless they decided it’s easier to let the stragglers come to them than to dig for us in the rubble.”

“Go have a look if you can’t keep still,” the old giant suggested from his bed. “Better you than any of us.”

Dirk tugged on Nesha’s skirt. “I don’t want the dragons to eat the little goatboy.”

“I’m not holding anyone captive,” Nesha said. “The satyrs have minds of their own.”

“I’ll pop my head up,” Newel said, crossing to the door. “If trouble lies in wait, I’ll hurry back.”

“And lead them right to us,” the old giant griped. “Once you’re out, stay out.”

“Pipe down,” Nesha said. “This is my nursery. You’re here as a courtesy, not to bark orders.”

“I could crush the lot of you,” the old giant grumbled, ending with a fit of coughing.

“Don’t mind him,” Nesha said. “I’d like to know what the quiet means. Check it out if that suits you. Don’t lead trouble to us or I’ll make sure you’re squished good and flat. If you survive undetected, return and report.”