“Is that a challenge, man-child?” Rasaol said, flexing arms that could’ve carried his Bokeen.
“Show my husband respect,” Maarja said, “or I will teach you.”
Maarja smiled at Tarness and nodded. He was still learning their code of chivalry. In Unsel, knights would fight to protect the honor of fair maidens. In Nordruaut, they simply had each other’s backs. You don’t hold the door for a woman just because, you hold the door open for the person whose arms were full because it was right. Threatening Rasaol wasn’t just about Nordruaut honor. His short time with the Eastern Nordruaut had been filled with more than a little coddling. He’d enjoy the opportunity to bloody a nose or three.
“A challenge here and now is a waste of time,” Gose said. “But I will champion Tarness if needed.”
“I’m ready to champion myself,” Tarness said. He dismounted his swifen and landed solidly in the ash, which almost reached his waist. It didn’t help his temper, and that familiar resolute power of his magic began to swell inside. His strength and immobility increased with his anger, and Rasaol’s size wouldn’t matter. “Let’s go.”
“Majesty,” Niihlu said through a sneer. “This human is powerful with the magics. He bested me in a challenge.”
“And we all know how incapable you are,” Rasaol thundered. “I’ve wanted to teach this pig a lesson since—”
That was enough to make Tarness snap, and with little effort, he shoved the king’s Bokeen over. The beast bleated as it tipped. There was a loud snap as it landed on Rasaol’s leg, and those watching grimaced in pain. A plume of ash drove everyone back.
Tarness sighed and shook his head. After walking around the Bokeen, he pushed it upright, patting it firmly before offering Rasaol a hand.
“We can war with each other, here and now,” Tarness said. “Or we can march to the drums and bring war to our enemies.”
Rasaol stared at Tarness, his hand, and the mount. A waiting silence hung in the air for everyone who watched. Tarness reached out once again, meeting Rasaol’s eyes. The king’s sigh ended in a cough.
“This ash is not natural, or healthy,” Tarness said. “Lead us through this so we can save Ehrde and return home.”
Rasaol looked at Tarness as if he’d just met the man. With a nod, he took Tarness’s hand and stood on one foot. Niihlu smiled in approval as if his loss had been vindicated. Tarness grimaced. He was angry enough to challenge both of them at once. They still deserved a good bending.
“You are indeed Nordruaut, son,” Rasaol said, sounding kingly once more. “And I am an old man distraught with what has happened to our neighbors. We had great respect for those of Rohjek, but I wouldn’t wish this on our enemies. Not even the Fulk’han.”
“Probably not,” Tarness said with a smirk, his anger slowly seeping from him.
Several nearby chuckled. Rasaol nodded to Maarja, the best apology that could be expected from royalty. It was enough.
“We will continue south to the dragon nest,” Maarja said. “One more day if we push hard.”
“And then?” Rasaol asked.
“We head to the border of Melkier and search for your army,” Maarja said. “Or Angst.”
“Lead the way,” Rasaol said, looking up at the Bokeen warily.
“If I may, Your Majesty,” Jintorich squeaked. “Allow me to fix that leg. I used to be a physician.”
“Amongst other things,” Tarness said.
“I am one,” Jintorich said with a wink. “One of many.”
On the fourth day, they approached the dragon’s nest with caution. From several miles, it looked like a clump of red grass in an empty tundra, shrouded by foul clouds of death. Like a distant mountain, it was farther away than expected and much larger up close. Dull red crystals of various sizes jutted out, as though breaking free from the ground’s confinement. The crystals were three times taller than any Nordruaut and clearly formed a complex, circular shape.
“What happened here?” Rasaol asked, his voice tight.
“When our party reached the edge of Unsel, we were surprised that Rohjek had become a land of ash. Angst and I scouted ahead to learn what had happened,” Maarja said. She turned to Tarness. “Your little friend flirted the entire way.”
“Heh.” Tarness shook his head. “Sounds like Angst.”
“This doesn’t bother you?” she asked.
“He’s harmless,” Tarness said, knowing his friend’s charm wasn’t for everyone.
“Hmf.” Maarja raised her chin. “We discovered this nest and heard moans from inside. Angst wanted to investigate even though I told him we should leave. It was obviously a trap, but he insisted. That man can be very frustrating.”
“You’ve noticed,” Tarness said.
She nodded. “I threw him over the side, and he landed on an egg, killing a baby dragon. In an attempt to climb out, he discovered humans alive. They were imprisoned in the crystals, food for the baby dragons. That’s when their mother arrived. She wasn’t happy.”
“I guess Angst wasn’t either,” Tarness said with a nod.
Maarja led them to the damaged section of the nest. The crystals along the side were singed, and then melted, and then gone entirely. From this angle, the round nest now looked more like a horseshoe. The layer of ash was low enough to reveal twenty leathery eggs—each the size of a Nordruaut. Tarness and Jintorich dismounted and made their way to a baby that hadn’t made it, its decomposed head leaning over the edge of the egg. Tarness whistled.
“Angst sent me to gather the others,” she said. “When we arrived, the mother dragon was already dead, and he was facing down a hundred tribesmen.”
“It must’ve been a small dragon,” Niihlu said, haughtily. “I’m surprised the human didn’t become food like the rest of Rohjek.”
Jintorich’s staff glowed as he held a hand to his mouth and blew a kiss toward a distant mound of ash. Wind cleared a path toward the mound until finally reaching his target. Within moments, the ash was gone, revealing the enormous, diamond-shaped head of the mother dragon. The head was larger than four Bokeen, and everyone gasped or took a step back.
“He…killed that, and then fought the tribes?” Niihlu swallowed hard. “That’s crazy.”
“That’s a lot of power,” Rasaol said, his voice shaky.
“That’s Angst,” Tarness said with a nod.
“Why did you bring us here, woman?” Niihlu snapped. “We are in a hurry, and don’t have time for this.”
“It was not out of the way, man,” Maarja said, her tone dangerously calm. “And you have to know what we’re dealing with. You all have to know. Angst is not just a human. Al’eyrn are dangerous, and he has two foci.”
All heads turned to Niihlu, and then Jintorich.
“Don’t look at me,” Jintorich said, his tall ears twitching. “I only have one.”
“What chance do we have if he truly has gone mad?” Bryymel asked, rubbing sweat from his bald head.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Tarness said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “If my friend has gone crazy, we may all die trying to stop him. But this? This wasn’t the act of a crazy man. The dragons here were killed by a hero.” The ruby ring on his finger burned, and his tongue slowed. Unable to say more, he looked to Jintorich for help.
“I believe my friend’s concerns should be ours,” Jintorich said. “Do we stop a madman, or help a hero?”
“He killed Jarle,” Bryymel said. “The answer is obvious.”
“I didn’t see him kill Jarle,” Jintorich said, looking at Bryymel. “Did you?” He looked at Rasaol. “Or you?” His large navy marble eyes fell on Tarness. “Or even you, my friend?”
Tarness could barely shake his head, and the rest remained silent.
“I don’t wish to remain here,” Rasaol finally said. “Or anywhere in Rohjek.”
“We are three days march,” Gose said. “It’s possible to cross over to Fulk’han in two or Unsel in one. But if we are met with resistance, it
will slow our progress.”
As the others conferred, Jintorich bounded over to Tarness. The Meldusian’s head barely peeked out of the ash. His thick eyebrows may have been frowning, it was hard to tell.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
The heat surrounding Tarness’s finger was gone, and he moved his tongue around his mouth. Finally, he nodded, swallowing down the shame that he wasn’t strong enough to break this shackle.
“We should go,” Jintorich said. “Now is the best time.”
“What do I say?” Tarness whispered.
“You could try the truth,” Jintorich said. He was definitely frowning now.
“I doubt the ring will let me,” Tarness grumbled, “and I don’t feel like being pummeled into dragon food.”
“What are you two planning now?” Maarja asked. “More training?”
Tarness looked from her to Jintorich. The little man sighed.
“Yes, my friend,” Jintorich said. “As a part of Tarness’s training, I must bring him to the Mendahir.”
“Oh?” Maarja asked. “When do we leave.”
“It should be just the two of us,” Jintorich continued. “If you recall, they didn’t exactly invite you back to visit.”
Maarja stared at Jintorich for a long time before her distrusting eyes fell on Tarness. It was unfair that he had such a hard time reading his wife yet felt transparent before her gaze.
“Is this what you wish, husband?” Maarja asked.
“It is best this way,” Tarness said, his throat dry, but not from ash.
“We won’t be long,” Jintorich said.
“How will you find me when you are done?” Maarja asked.
“I used to be a tracker,” Jintorich said. “It will be easy.”
“Hurry back to me,” Maarja said, giving Tarness the barest of kisses. She turned away, crossing her arms.
“You’re in trouble,” Jintorich said.
“You can tell?” Tarness asked. “I was hoping that was worry.”
Maarja made her way back to the group, roughly shoving Bryymel with a shoulder. He took a step back and cowered.
“Nope, not worry,” Jintorich said. “We should hurry, before she changes her mind.”
26
The fall air was crisp enough to clear Angst’s head. The nearby trees were just starting to change color, and he had plenty of time to appreciate it. They rode slowly through the woods, held back by the speed of Ivan’s stallion and wary of surprise attacks. Angst was paying attention now, a little more than less, and hopefully the gamlin would warn them of impending doom.
Ivan led the way, only several paces ahead. His head leaned back as if looking down his nose at the world, and his silence made him seem haughty. It grated Angst’s nerves but was still better than the knight falling off his horse and continuously getting sick all over himself like their first outing.
Angst wanted to ask Ivan questions. How had he come back? Why was he willing to work for Magic? Why wasn’t he a tree? He appreciated the knight’s silence far more than answers he probably wouldn’t have liked anyway.
“Can you wish for more wishes?” Alloria asked, her voice a little dreamy.
Ivan let out a “pfft” that Angst tried to ignore.
“I don’t really know how it works,” Angst said, smiling at the thought. “That sounds nice, but I doubt it.”
“Why not?” Alloria asked.
“Just a theory,” Angst said, “but I’m sure there are rules. If not, an element could wish to always win. I can’t imagine one of them haven’t tried.”
“Well,” Alloria said, pondering. “Maybe you could wish that I get a wish.”
“I will certainly try,” Angst chuckled.
“Really?” she asked, turning her head to try to look at him.
“Sure,” he said.
She squeed a little, and Ivan’s head rolled forward as he sighed.
“What would you wish for?” Angst asked. “Other than more wishes.”
She leaned back into him, placed her hand on the back of his head, and pulled it down so she could whisper in his ear.
“Alloria!” he said, his cheeks and ears burning.
She laughed and laughed as he awkwardly cleared his throat. As always, she was more shocking than flattering. Those fantasies were supposed to be his and not whispered into his ear by someone else. She was all walls and no boundaries and far beyond his ability to manage. It took her a long while to compose herself.
“Or,” he said. “If that wasn’t an option. Ever.”
“Don’t get old on me,” she said. “Poppa.”
“Gross,” Ivan muttered.
“Never,” Angst said. “Not a ‘poppa’ and not getting old. So, about your wish…”
“I’d have my revenge,” she said very calmly.”
“Oh?” he asked, a little concerned.
“I would wish that Magic experienced everything he put me through, and worse, for the next two thousand years.”
Ivan sat upright and cocked his ear toward them.
“Torture, humiliation,” she said, her voice singsonging despite her shaking hands. “I would pour all my hatred into that wish so he could suffer like the elements have made everyone suffer. Like he made me suffer.”
Angst took Alloria’s hands in his, and her breathing caught. He couldn’t even imagine what the beast had put her through, and he squeezed gently. No wonder the poor thing was crazy.
“He deserves that and more,” Angst said softly. “And when I destroy him, I’ll do everything I can to make it hurt.”
She nodded, pulling his arms around her in a hug.
“What about you, Ivan?” Angst said, wishing to change the subject. “Would you wish for your life back?”
“No,” Ivan said. “No, I’d wish for everything to be set right.”
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“I want peace,” Ivan said. “A paradise like none have seen.”
“I’ve seen your paradise,” Angst spat. “I saw what you did to the Fulk’han women. You twisted them all into something obscene.”
“Into something magnificent,” Ivan said, proudly. “You can’t tell me you didn’t like what you saw.”
Of course he’d liked the women. They were sex walking. Large breasts and full lips and shapely legs were Angst’s favorite, even if the fur and tail were inhuman. The men, however, were practically identical, with pale gray skin, protruding ribs, and turtle-shell armor that grew from their bodies.
“But that’s not what they wanted, is it?” Angst asked. “They didn’t ask to be twisted into your dark fantasy. They were already perfect in their own way.”
“Humans aren’t perfect,” Ivan said, his tone disgusted.
“By definition, nothing is perfect. Not humans or elements or Ehrde,” Angst said. “It’s our imperfections that make us amazing. The gift of life, the innocence of youth, the struggle to become something better. That will to survive and achieve is something pure. I would call that perfection.”
“And is that what you want to waste your wish on?” Ivan said.
“I just want to save my family,” Angst said quietly.
“Your family?” Ivan asked.
“Fire killed them. I’m surprised you didn’t know,” Angst said. “I would’ve assumed that Magic told his minions everything.”
“That fool,” Ivan said, almost too quietly to hear. “No, I wasn’t aware. I’m sorry for your loss. This may surprise you, but out of respect, Magic wouldn’t have done that.”
That did surprise him. Ivan had no reason to say it. He was rarely kind.
“I don’t believe you,” Angst said. “Magic will do anything to win.”
“The elements typically disregard humans as ants, but they respect Al’eyrn,” Ivan said. “Most wouldn’t do something so rash as to encourage their wrath.”
“How comforting,” Angst said, dryly. He didn’t believe a word Ivan said. The elements used humans, and despite the
power Al’eyrn wielded, they were still human.
“Believe what you will,” Ivan said. “But Al’eyrn hold great power, and now that you wield two foci, even you don’t know—”
“Stop,” Angst said, holding up a hand and willing his swifen to halt.
“Oh, now what?” Ivan scoffed. “Do you two need more time in a tent?”
“Yes,” Alloria said, hopefully.
“That would be a lot more fun,” Angst whispered. “Gamlin are warning me that there’s a war band of Nordruaut ahead.”
“How many?” Ivan unsheathed his sword.
“Gamlin can’t count,” Angst said. “But I can sense quite a few. “
“Kill them,” Ivan said. “Use those two big knives of yours to dice them so we can move on.”
“Yeah, baby,” Alloria said. “Can’t you make a path?”
What had he gotten himself into? He wasn’t a murderer. Even if these Nordruaut wanted to stop them, even if they were enemies, that didn’t mean they deserved to die.
“Maybe I could just knock them out,” Angst pondered.
“And maybe I could just ask them to leave,” Ivan said, rolling his eyes.
“Ha.” Alloria laughed and then said. “That wasn’t funny.”
“Let me go see,” he said. “You two wait here.”
“You’re leaving me with him?” Alloria asked, gripping Angst’s arm.
“He knows the consequences of even looking at you funny,” Angst said, staring down the knight with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t you, Ivan?”
“I could care less about this one,” he said with a sneer. “I won’t do anything that gets us, or me, attacked.”
“Be careful.” Alloria kissed Angst on the cheek.
He smiled and nodded, grateful it wasn’t followed by sappy declarations of love or overdramatic pleas. Sane Alloria was his favorite Alloria. He dismounted his great steel ram and drew both swords from his back.
The gamlin had, sort of, indicated that there were ‘many biggies’ nearby. Their descriptions were as vague as they were alien and didn’t translate well. At least the gamlin had warned him, but his plan of attack required more. Was Tarness there? Could he possibly be traveling with Maarja? Or was it the other guys?
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