Chapter One hundred forty-six (Patreon)

But when Kibbiz led them away, Kaz quickly realized that she was taking them somewhere other than where Berin had told them they would be eating. Still, the den was filled with the smell of food, and the kobolds around them looked excited, rather than tense, so Kaz didn’t worry too much.

They left the main sleeping cavern through a large, arching tunnel that they hadn’t been down before. It was short, no more than twenty feet, and Kaz saw evidence that chisels and pickaxes had been used to widen it at some point. When they arrived at the end, they found a cavern full of kobolds, only some of whom were holding food.

Berin was the first to acknowledge them, though her eyes narrowed when she saw the puppy trailing after them, trying to hide behind Kaz. She spoke to Lianhua first, however, giving a shallow bow and saying, “We’re greatly honored tonight. When Idla of the Goldblades heard you were here, she chose to come herself, rather than waiting for you to descend.”

Flicking her gaze toward Kyla, she murmured, “Your mother is here as well, pup, so you should hurry to her.”

Kyla froze, eyes widening, then she darted away toward a group that Kaz suddenly realized consisted almost entirely of kobolds with fur of varying shades of red. There were several with fur almost as deep a garnet as Rega’s, and one tall, slim female with crimson fur graying around the muzzle. For a moment, Kaz thought he was looking at his mother, and then she glanced his way, and he saw that she had very dark blue eyes, rather than Oda’s pale silver-blue.

A male, short and wide with tufted greenish-yellow fur and gold eyes like Kyla, wagged his tail as the puppy ran up beside him. The crimson female, who Kaz assumed was Vega, given her resemblance to Oda, barely glanced at her puppy, but Kyla watched her mother with an expression Kaz knew all too well: fear, and a sort of desperate longing.

Feeling the sudden pang of loss that stabbed Kaz’s heart at the sight of the trio, Li leaned in close to him. <Family,> she said, and the surprise of it drove out the darker emotions that had been trying to settle inside him. He turned his head slightly, looking away from the kobolds and toward the dragon, and found her looking back, her neck now long enough that she could stretch it out to meet his gaze. Her eyes held more blue than usual, driving out the usual gold, and she trilled a little whistle.

Family, he thought, and realized that it was true. She was easily as important to him as anyone had ever been, other than possibly Ghazt or Rega, and though they shared neither blood nor race, he would rather die than allow her to suffer. He gave the dragon a little nod, and she purred softly, rubbing her head against his cheek, careful for once to keep her sharp little horns away from his skin.

While Kaz and Li had been holding their own silent conversation, Berin had been talking to Lianhua. Now, she turned to an approaching female, bowing so low that her ears nearly brushed the floor.

“Idla,” Berin said, sounding like a pup speaking to her chief. “This human is called Lianhua, of the Long tribe.” She didn’t bother to introduce any of the three males, but Idla’s yellow eyes paused on Kaz.

Idla was a sturdy female, her shoulders wide and her body well-muscled. Her tribe were supposed to be miners, and surprisingly, she looked like one, rather than a female who used power instead of muscle to do her work. In fact, the male standing just behind her looked more like what Kaz had expected the Goldblade chief to look like. He was small and thin, and his muscles were lean, rather than bulky. His blue eyes were cold and deadly, though, and Kaz didn’t think he’d like to come against him in a battle.

“I’m glad you’ve come,” Idla said in a surprisingly light voice. “We’ve gathered quite a bit of the things you humans like to trade for, waiting for the day you returned.”

A little color rose in Lianhua’s cheeks, and Kaz could tell that she felt guilty for misleading this female. But she only bowed slightly, just as Kaz had taught her, and said, “We’re just an exploratory mission, I’m afraid. We haven’t brought much in the way of trade goods, and we can’t carry much with us when we go. We’re simply trying to learn if traveling down through the mountain is even feasible.”

Idla nodded, as if completely unsurprised, but Kaz could see the calculation in her eyes. “Of course,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about this as well. Always before, we’ve left those in the upper reaches to themselves, though the path through the mid-levels was kept clear by stronger tribes. Several mid-level tribes have recently been driven up by the fulan, however, and I think they should be able to easily take over the stairs above, or come to an agreement with the tribes already there. Within a few months, I’m sure we can have a safe and easy passage arranged for any humans who wish to make the journey.”

She raised her hand, gesturing to someone behind her, and several males came forward, along with a single yellow-furred female, short and slim like Idla’s mate. The males strained to carry a large box, built from yumi reeds, which the female opened to reveal gold which had been smelted down into bars, as well as a few beautifully crafted knives, and several pouches with unknown contents.

“Berin says you have some fabric that caught her eye. As a favor to her tribe, I’m willing to trade this entire chest for that fabric.” Idla’s sweet voice was offhand, but Kaz could see how her tail stiffened behind her, as if she’d just caught sight of prey. Glancing sidelong at Lianhua, he gave the tiniest shake of his head.

It didn’t seem as if Lianhua caught the gesture, but she smiled and said, “I’m afraid I must decline your generous offer. As I said, we can’t carry much with us, so a few small items would be better than so many large and heavy ones.”

Meanwhile, Raff, who was standing behind Lianhua, had his eyes locked on the stack of gold ingots as if he’d never seen anything so wonderful in his life. Kaz thought that if he was a kobold, he might even have started drooling. Chi Yincang, of course, was expressionless, and watched the kobolds around them, rather than the treasures in the box.

The fur on the back of Idla’s neck rose ever so slightly, but she waved nonchalantly, and the small female immediately closed the box and led the males away again. “I understand,” Idla said. “But may I see this cloth that Berin speaks of so highly? Perhaps I can get a better idea of what sort of trade might be appropriate.”

Lianhua sighed, ever so slightly, but pulled out the purple cloth again. If anything, it was even more beautiful, each of the many ki orbs illuminating the area casting a different sheen over its glossy surface.

“I had planned to take this home with me,” Lianhua admitted. “It complements my eyes so well that I thought to have it made into a new robe.” She lifted it to her cheek, and the rich color was, indeed, a near match for the amethyst of her irises.

To Kaz’s surprise, Idla seemed impressed by the color and quality of the material, but not shocked, as Berin had been. The kobold chief tilted her head, made a thoughtful sound, then turned and called behind her. “Mila, bring the sword.”

The yellow-furred female came forward again, already holding something long in her arms. It was wrapped in a piece of cloth, not so fine or beautifully colored as Lianhua’s, but definitely not made from anything that could be found in the mountain.

Reverently, Mila folded back the cloth, revealing a weapon almost long enough for Raff. It was too large for any kobold, so it could only have been crafted for a human. The blade held the ripples that meant it had been folded as it was shaped, and when Mila tilted it, Kaz could see the silvery glitter that meant it contained at least some mithril.

“We would be willing to trade this sword for your cloth. It’s made from a mithril alloy, so it’s quite light, and will hold its edge forever.” She looked up at Lianhua, pride showing in every line of her body.

Kaz eyed the weapon. He was fairly certain that the material around it was actually someone’s loincloth, probably used when Berin told idla about Lianhua’s fabric. This showed that not only did they already have cloth at least similar to what Lianhua brought, but they cared about it so little that they wrapped a sharp object in it.

On the other hand, the sword was all but useless to kobolds. Even though it was light, the balance was wrong for a wielder the size of a kobold, and it couldn’t even be swung anywhere except in an open cavern. Short blades that could be used in tight quarters were better in almost every circumstance.

This weapon had probably been made specifically to be traded, and when that trade abruptly ceased, the Goldblades were left with it. They could melt it down and make two or even three knives out of it, but that would undoubtedly be difficult, which explained why it hadn’t been done sometime in the  last several years.

Again, Kaz gave a tiny shake of his head, but Lianhua looked intrigued. She reached out, hovering a finger over the sharp edge. “I’ve seen weapons like this before, but I didn’t know they were made here.”

Raff cleared his throat gently. “We can make them, too,” he told her. “It takes a mage and a smith working together, but most nobles have one or more tucked away in the treasure room.”

Idla huffed a little laugh, then reached out and flicked a claw against the blade. A clear note rang out through the den, causing all of the kobolds to look their way. “I’ve seen what your smiths produce,” she said dismissively, “and they’re worthless junk compared to what the Mithrilblades create. This sword took our greatest smith, Shom, nearly two years to craft.”

That explained it. Some human must have ordered this, and it either wasn’t done yet or the buyer hadn’t come to pick it up when the mountain closed. That left the Mithrilblades with something no one could use, but made by their finest smith, who probably wasn’t too happy with the idea of melting it down and starting over. But why did Idla have it? Was she just representing the Mithrilblades, or had she traded for it because she was so certain that humans would come again? If so, and if she had done this more than once, she might have a great deal of trade goods that she acquired for relatively little, and both her pride and her honor was now riding on her ability to get rid of them.

Lianhua gave a sharp nod. “This, and two smaller weapons. Knives, preferably about this long, sharp and fine.” She held her hands a little less than a foot apart, and Idla’s eyes lit up. That was a good size for a kobold, so she could probably get some fairly quickly, if someone there didn’t already have some she could use.

“Of course, the knives must also be made with mithril,” Lianhua finished offhandedly, and Idla’s tail drooped. 

The Goldblade chief nodded, though her smile was a little fixed, then turned back to the female she’d called Mila. The two exchanged only a few words, which were clear, but not enough to let anyone listening understand their meaning. Then Mila bowed, but not as deeply as a young female usually would to her chief, which reinforced Kaz’s suspicion that she was Idla’s daughter. Mila left, not quite running, to rejoin a smaller group of yellow-furred kobolds standing to the side of the larger mass.

Idla and Lianhua began exchanging pleasantries, asking about each other’s family and tribes, which left Kaz to look around again. He found his gaze drawn back to the group of bright red kobolds burning like embers in the midst of the brilliant yellow flames of the Goldcoats and Goldblades. Kyla was standing, head bowed, as her mother spoke to her.

The puppy was the picture of dejection, tail tucked and ears flat, and Kaz felt sorry for her. He knew what it was like to be told you had to wait indefinitely for your chance to grow up, and though Kyla’s time had likely only been delayed by a few weeks, rather than months or years, it was still disheartening. Of course, females were only expected to survive their spirit hunt, not judged by the trophies they returned with, so they were usually far younger than males when they went, so Kyla still had a long way to go to be as far beyond her time as Kaz.

Li’s tail tightened slightly around Kaz’s throat, reminding him that he bore something far greater than a warrior’s necklace, and he reached up to stroke her smooth scales. “You’re right, I know,” he murmured to her. “I am me, you are you, and we’re together. The rest of it is meaningless.” She whistled soft agreement, Kaz smiled, and when he looked back again, he found Vega’s attention had left her daughter. Instead, she was staring straight at Kaz.

Her eyes were dark. So dark that at first he thought he had been mistaken when he thought they held any blue at all. Then another female nearby shifted, and her light moved with her, illuminating Vega’s eyes from the side. They were indeed blue, but it was the blue of the darkest, deepest dumortierite, rather than the much brighter shade of Kaz’s own, which Katri had once told him was slightly lighter than his fur.

When Vega realized that Kaz had noticed her staring, she didn’t look away, as he’d half expected. Instead, she smiled, a long, slow smile that showed far too many teeth.