“Hello, my friend, my Hiyyan,” Silver gasped. She never wanted to let him go, but she pulled back slightly to look north, where the mountain peak blended with an imposing building of gray stone.
They’d reached the Watchers’ Keep.
ELEVEN
The Keep frowned down at them with its stern black stone lines dusted over with glistening white snow. The structure perched on the side of the mountain summit, rising nobly into the uppermost reaches of the atmosphere, and before seeing it, Silver would have thought it was carved from the rock that was already part of the mountain, just as Jaspaton was carved from sandstone cliffs. But now she saw that the stone of the Keep didn’t match that of the mountain. What madness would have compelled people to carry those huge stones up the mountain so many hundreds of years ago?
Silver’s neck ached from tipping her head so far back, but even so, she couldn’t see the top of the Keep. It rose into the clouds as though touching the very homes of the ancient goddesses. Mele would have loved to see this. Silver pressed a palm to her eyes. As soon as Hiyyan was healed, they were going back for Mele and Luap.
About those figs and that bread … Hiyyan nudged her gently. He was right: No one was getting saved if they weren’t fit and fed.
“You would think their diets would be spare, all the way up here on the mountain, but the Watchers always manage to put out a good spread,” Nebekker said.
“With medicine stores to match, hopefully,” Silver murmured.
Despite the imposing majesty of the building, the Keep doors were simple wood, hinged with long black iron findings. Silver swallowed, raised her fist, and knocked.
It was possible no one inside heard her. The doors were so thick she barely heard the knock herself. Even so, the bass sound of a heavy lock dropping meant someone had come. Slowly, the huge door was pulled open, the hinges moaning their protest, and Silver’s name was hollered into the mountain range.
Mele reached an arm through the doorway and yanked Silver inside.
“We thought you were dead!” she exclaimed. “Killed by the hunters or frozen to death.”
“Eaten by wild animals,” Nebekker added, as though it were a game.
Kirja let loose a disapproving snort.
“Mele!” Silver threw herself at her friend. “You’re okay! You’re here!”
“We’re all alive.” Mele held Silver at arm’s length and grinned. Her glance swept over Silver’s tattered clothes and the thick layers of mud on Nebekker’s knees. “Come inside and get warm.”
Silver curled her fingers to hide the dirt caked under her nails and used her forearm to push some errant hair off her forehead. Mele looked as fresh and clean as the first time Silver had seen her, in Calidia. The Watchers’ Keep would be good for a bath at least.
They entered an echoing great room, and Mele pushed the heavy door closed with a scraping thud behind them. Silver craned her neck, taking a deep breath to steady her balance as her head shot through with pain, but at least the voices that had assaulted her brain on the glacier, upon Silver’s first touch of Nebekker’s heartstone, had been silenced by the thick walls of the Keep. The ceilings were three stories high and braced with thick wooden beams. Heavy tapestries lined every floor and wall, including being draped back over the door that had just been closed behind them. A massive fireplace, taller than Hiyyan, threw off roars of heat. An entire tree must have been burning in that pit.
There was little else to recommend the space. A few spartan chairs that would do nothing to ease aching bones. Low tables covered with an arm’s-thick layer of melted and cooled wax and with candles stacked on top. Metal chandeliers hanging from impossibly long chains dripping yet more wax all over the floors and rugs. It was, indeed, warmer than outside, but not by much.
Silver pressed the back of her hand to Hiyyan’s flank. As one, they both sucked in air through their teeth. Silver because Hiyyan’s skin was burning up, and Hiyyan because her hands were like ice.
“Sit and res—” Mele began.
“No time for rest. Hiyyan needs medicine. Food. Quickly.”
Mele twisted her fingers together. “I’ll try to find Lers, the tender here at the Keep. He’s the one who found us. He was out in the forest clearing the path to the Keep—to the other entrance—and stumbled across me and Luap.”
“It’s a good thing you were so close,” Nebekker said darkly. “Had Lers not found you, we would never have seen you again.”
Silver’s hand moved from Hiyyan, shot out to grab Mele’s fingers. She knew the Calidian girl had conflicting emotions—she watched them cross Mele’s face, one after the other: relief, blame, fear, anger. But they had all made it to the Keep. Things had to get better from here on out.
“Last I saw, Lers was taking supper to Luap.”
Supper! Hiyyan said.
“What’s this bedlam, then?”
As if summoned, a bearded man Silver surmised to be Lers entered the room. He was a short and stout man with arms the size of tree trunks. His bald head was revealed when he pulled off the thick wool hat he wore and stuffed it into one of the huge pockets on his coat.
“Your water dragon looks sick, young one.”
“Obviously,” Silver burst out. “He’s dying!”
“Silver.” Nebekker stepped in. “Hello again, Lers. I’ll assume that the healing stocks are in the same locations as before?”
“If it’s stored warm, it’s next to the kitchens. Cold storage below,” Lers confirmed. “I’d guess the dragons are peckish, too. Let’s get you critters fed. Off to the den!”
“Where’s the den? Why are you taking him there? Wait for me,” Silver called out, but Nebekker stopped her with a hand on the elbow.
“Stay. Get some food.”
“It’s all right, Silver,” Mele added. “Luap’s in the Dragon Den, too. It’s safe there. Warm. There’s food. The rest of the Keep isn’t built for the size of our dragons.”
“Is that the reason they gave you?” Nebekker’s mouth twisted wryly.
“I have to take care of him. It’s my responsibility.” Silver swallowed a painful lump.
Nebekker nodded knowingly. “Taking care of yourself is the first step to taking care of him.”
The scent of nourishment wafted in from somewhere down one of the dark hallways at the back of the great room. Silver’s stomach growled.
Nebekker smiled. “Smells like there’s supper for the humans, too. I’ll go with Hiyyan. Lers knows all about the creatures on this mountain. If there’s a—if all goes well, he’ll be a new water dragon by the time your meal is over.”
Silver’s exhaustion, body and mind, settled over her in a fog. Hiyyan’s nostrils flared as though he was going to take in a deep breath full of smells that would reveal some clues about the Watchers’ Keep, but instead he only sighed.
We’ll meet again with full bellies.
Silver watched Lers and Kirja help Hiyyan across the room and out a side entrance. Her chest hollowed with worry and fear. She reached into her pocket to warm her hand and bumped into something hard. Nebekker’s heartstone. She’d forgotten to return it amid all the Snucker chaos on the glacier.
Silver opened her mouth to call after Nebekker, but as a flash of firelight ricocheted off the heartstone, a boot step echoed on the far side of the room. Silver turned at the sound, surprised to discover a hidden staircase carved into the stone of one wall. One figure stood high above them, looking down, while another one slowly descended to the great room.
The man who remained at the top gazed down at them, his thick eyebrows raised high. His pale skin sagged, but even from far away, Silver could tell his eyes were as bright and curious as a child’s.
“And so,” he said, his bass tones carrying into all corners of the great room. “You have found a dragon heartstone. How very intriguing.”
Instinctively, Silver’s fingers curled around the stone, hiding it from sight.
“It’s not mine,” she admitted. “But I’ve c
ome here to find my own!”
The woman descending the stairs chuckled. Her amethyst-colored bell sleeves fell over the tops of her slim, gloved hands. Around her head, a narrow silver band held her hair flat. It was a circlet much like the one Silver’s father wore. “No need to worry, Silver Batal. We do not want your friend’s dragon heartstone. Nor your Aquinder. Nor anything else you could offer us. Our needs are seen to, and our wants are very, very small and can hardly be met by the things of this earth.”
“How do you know my name?” Silver asked. “You won’t tell Queen—anyone—what I have? Or that I’m here?”
“We don’t converse with the queen of the deserts,” the woman said. “Unless she comes to our doorstep seeking wisdom. In that case, we won’t turn her away. We don’t turn anyone away.”
The last part of that statement was nothing more than fact, Silver knew, but she also heard the warning behind the words.
“But few visit. Most seek alternative paths to wisdom or ruin,” the woman continued. “Our ways are dusty, musty, and old. The young have little use for our silly mythologies and methods.”
The woman and man shared a private smile that Silver didn’t quite understand.
“I seek wisdom,” Silver blurted out. “My water dragon has been poisoned. I need a cure.”
The woman had reached the floor of the great room by now and swept toward Silver, her heavy robes dragging across the stone. She was a formidable woman, tall and large of stature, but her face was welcoming.
Silver felt her shoulders relax—she hadn’t realized how tense she’d become since the Watchers had entered the room.
“My name is Lothilde. And that is Gavi at the top of the stairs. We’re happy to welcome you, and to do our best to help your water dragon companion.”
Gratitude rushed into Silver’s chest like a desert heat wave. “Thank you. It’s been a while since we’ve felt welcome anywhere. And thank you for helping heal Hiyyan.” Silver squeezed the heartstone. Boldness replaced gratitude. “Just in case you can’t heal him … can you tell me more about dragon heartstones? Where to get one myself?”
Lothilde shared a quick glance with Gavi. “There certainly will be some kind of information about heartstones in the Keep.”
“How common do you think they are, girl?” Gavi growled.
“Not … very?” Silver knew of only one, but surely there had been more in the history of the world.
“Certainly not many in this generation. You’d better put that one away”—Lothilde nodded to the dragon heartstone—“and join us for a meal. You will be tired and cold, still. Whoever built the Keep didn’t seem to understand how chilly these big, open stone rooms get. And you all look more used to the warmth of the desert. The dining hall is upstairs, where the heat rises. After some rest, we’ll help you with your search.”
Silver hesitated. When Silver held the dragon heartstone out in the open in her hand, the Watchers commented on it. Shared a glance that Silver couldn’t read. But that was it. She remembered how Sagittaria Wonder’s eyes had flashed the first time she saw Nebekker’s heartstone, and she could imagine how Arkilah’s expression would darken and deepen. Even now, a voice came to her through the stone walls.
You have our heartstone.
Kirja.
I will return it as soon as possible.
But the Watchers? They simply watched.
Silver didn’t entirely trust them, not with Gavi’s very intriguing, but it was possible they really had no interest in capturing illegal water dragons or stealing dragon heartstones.
“I am cold. And hungry,” Silver finally admitted. Lothilde pulled a blanket from a chair and draped the colorful fabric over Silver’s shoulders.
“You look like you’re leading a festival parade with that getup,” Mele joked.
“Someday I will. Hiyyan and I both will. Closing out the festivities, holding our race cup high, world champions.”
“You sound like yourself again,” Mele said. Then her voice took on an edge. “It’s good to hear you haven’t given up on what you really want.”
Maybe Silver deserved that reminder that she often rushed headlong into what she wanted without thinking enough about others.
“Yes, I want to race,” Silver said softly. “But more than that, I want Hiyyan healed. I want us all safe and free and happy.”
Silver locked eyes with Mele. “Let’s make that happen.”
TWELVE
Fish.
The single word came to Silver faintly, but it was lined with delight. Hiyyan was eating. That made Silver happy, but worry still lapped at the edges of her heart. Her left arm was growing weaker, unable to grip the edge of the blanket as it slid down her shoulder. When she pulled out a chair in the dining hall, she noticed the tips of all her fingers were still a dangerous dull-blue color.
“Here.” Gavi noticed Silver examining her hands and passed her a metal cup. “Wrap your hands around this. You might be able to keep your fingers.”
The liquid inside the mug was steaming hot and warmed her palm so quickly that the pain increased. Might? Silver winced and held her face over the steam, inhaling the rich scent of milky, hot molten chocolate laced with cardamom and almond cream.
Silver drank deeply and smacked her lips. “It does help me feel better. If you have hot chocolate way up here, what else do you have? An antidote to Screw-Claw poison?” Silver would give up sweets for the rest of her life if it meant an easy and quick way to heal Hiyyan. “That’s what we had a run-in with on our way here.”
“I was wondering about the way you favor your arm,” Lothilde said. “Screw-Claw, you say? A treacherous water dragon breed.”
Silver nodded. She debated telling the Watcher everything, but what did the Watchers know of water dragon bonds? How much did Silver want to reveal yet? Not much. Not until she trusted the Watchers.
“We don’t have a specific medicine for that. It’s never been needed. Screw-Claws are reclusive, and humans aren’t common in the mountains, either. When they meet, well…” Gavi made a sinister expression and drew a line across his throat.
“But you survived and you’re here,” Lothilde said cheerfully, giving Gavi an impatient look.
“For now,” the cranky old Watcher muttered.
The group sat around a long wooden table, and the first of three courses was brought in by another of the Watchers, this one a petite woman who frowned at the number of people seated around the table.
“Thank you, Dasia,” Lothilde said. “You outdo yourself—and all of us—each time.”
Lothilde turned to Silver with a conspiratorial expression and lowered her voice. “We take turns cooking daily meals. Some of us are better at it than others. Dasia is the best. You came on an opportune day.”
As soon as she was served, Silver’s appetite hit her like a desert storm. It was all she could do to keep herself from licking clean her bowl of broth, before asking for another plate of the spice-crusted game bird with lemon rice and pine nuts, and the hearty, simmered dried fruits that came next, and finally, falling face-first into the farina with mastic and orange-blossom water. Next to her, Mele ate with the same gusto, too busy eating to speak beyond murmured words of appreciation.
In the lull, Silver quickly sent her thoughts to Hiyyan.
Are you warm? Is your food as delicious as mine? Hiyyan? Can you hear me?
When the reply finally came, it was quiet. Yes and yes.
The Watchers say they don’t have the antidote. Is Nebekker tending to you? Keeping you comfortable?
When Hiyyan didn’t answer right away, Silver tuned out the people in the dining hall and focused on Hiyyan: his long tail, his strong haunches, his wings—one badly hurt, one healthy—his aching shoulders and front legs, his too-taut neck muscles, the matted fur that she would brush until it was magnificently soft and lush.
A strong and bitter herbal smell shocked her nose. What is that? It nearly knocked me off my chair!
All the medici
ne Nebekker could find.
A cure?
No. But it helps with the pain.
Silver’s heart squeezed. I’ll come down to tend you. I’ll—
No. Find out about a heartstone. That’s what we need.
Silver nodded to herself and looked longingly as her empty bowl of pudding was carried away. But soon enough her mug of hot chocolate had been refilled, and she sat forward in the stiff wooden dining hall chair and appraised the Watchers.
During the meal, five more had wandered in until Silver had seen eight of them, each swathed in colorful robes with fur trim on the collars and cuffs. Their faces were old, but not terribly lined, and had a wide range of pale to golden to very dark complexions that told Silver they came from all over different parts of Alsa, their world.
Surely, they knew many things. But where to begin?
“Can I ask some questions?” Silver said. “About being a Watcher?”
“Of course,” Lothilde said. “We hold no secrets.”
“That’s not what people in Calidia think,” Mele said. “They think you do all sorts of weird and mysterious things up here.”
“Same for Jaspaton,” Silver said.
“Let me guess.” Lothilde counted on her fingers. “We sacrifice creatures to the ancient goddesses. We roam the tunnels and caves below the mountains looking for riches. We can alter the course of entire nations with a wave of our hands.”
Silver and Mele looked at each other and nodded. The Watchers also looked at one another, but they smirked.
“We only watch,” Lothilde said, “and catalog what we see.”
“But you do choose the desert rulers,” Silver pointed out.
“A grave responsibility, that,” said Dasia, finally sitting to enjoy her own cup of hot chocolate.
“A grave curse,” Gavi said darkly.
The Watchers shared a look that held layers of meaning.
Race for the Dragon Heartstone Page 9
