Free Dog and Dragon-ARC by Dave Freer

only he could, through the dark building and down to the landing of the stair to the main room and kitchen. From here he could hear them, and smell them. Ah. Mine host was talking to something that smelled…both like a wolf and a man. That was worrying enough without the faint smell of decay too. Fionn had dealt with enough skin changers before to know how those smelled. They were dangerous, in that they had the strength and skills of their beast side and the cunning of men. It was fortunate that men were not always particularly cunning. He listened.
    “…too much money for what he pretends to be. He gave me a silver coin, from a realm I’ve never heard of, worth five times what I gave him for it. Also there were no other travelers on the Malpas road. Leroy would have let me know, and I would have let you know,” said mine host, the innkeeper.
    Fionn had to swallow his snigger at the mention of the coin, now safe back in Fionn’s pouch, and go on listening. So the innkeeper—and his friend along the trail, kept the skin-changers informed of good targets. Such things were always useful to know, eventually. The wolf-man’s voice was gravelly and deep. “We saw no men on the road between here and Hunger ford. Just a mighty wyrm and a dog.”
    “This one had a dog. A sheepdog.”
    “A black and white dog. It rode on the wyrm. I think you have a magician here. Our mistress will reward you well for such a one, Gore. Let us see the coin he gave you.”
    Fionn did not wait. It was time to leave. He moved quietly upstairs, picked up Díleas and was back down the stairs while the innkeeper was still searching and swearing. Fionn took himself into hiding next to the fireplace breastwork. A few moments later, the innkeeper, candle in one hand and club in the other, exited from the kitchen with his companion—heading upstairs for the room Fionn had just vacated. If Fionn had waited, he’d have met them on the stair. As it was, he was able to duck into the kitchen, and close the door. Most conveniently it had a bar, perhaps for when the food displeased the patrons. In the light of a bunch of rag wicks in an oil jar, Fionn scanned the shelf, and helped himself to a jar. The travelers must bring the spice here, as it would have been too precious and rare for anyone but royalty otherwise. He put Díleas down, tipped an oily crock of olives onto the floor, opened the outer door and left.
    Of course at this stage, like most slick plans, it went awry. There was a pack of wolves waiting only a few yards outside the door on the roadway.
    Fortunately, they were as surprised to see Fionn and Díleas as the dog and dragon were to see them. Fionn had a moment, as Díleas barked, to fling the fired-clay spice jar at the roadway just in front of them.
    Fionn flung the jar with all his considerable strength, so it literally shattered into flying fragments, releasing a cloud of the precious pepper within.
    He grabbed Díleas and ran the other way. The sheepdog was blinking and sneezing and trying to rub his eyes with a paw, so Fionn had a feeling that the wolves would not be doing too well in pursuit. Nonetheless, he preferred to deal with them in dragon form, so he underwent the short discomfort of changing his shape. It was not ever something particularly pleasant to do to one’s body, especially in a hurry but…needs must. Thus it was that the first angry, sneezing wolf got a bat from Fionn’s tail that sent it thirty yards back down the road. The others retreated hastily and Fionn realized that Díleas had not waited on an invitation but had leapt up onto his back and was now barking defiance at the chastened pack.
    “Enough, Díleas,” said Fionn. “It’s time to leave before this escalates into an angry innkeeper with crossbow bolts. We’d better go.” He started down the trail. And Díleas leapt off, ran ahead and turned and barked at him.
    “Not really playtime, boy,” said Fionn pushing on. Díleas growled at him and stood