by H. L. Burke
“For what it is worth, I hope you succeed.” Gan rubbed his forehead. “My decisions were for the good of Carta, driven by the necessity of having a strong heir, not for any desire to see Calen suffer.”
Zephia snorted. “For someone who lacked the desire, you certainly put forth a lot of effort to see it come to pass.”
Gan let out a long breath and left.
“I know you can’t offer physical help, but can you give us advice?” Laidra held her breath, half-worried that Cibron would swoop in and accuse her of cheating. “What price must we pay to draw the waters?”
“That I cannot tell you, but I know that the cost was designed to keep the water out of the hands of the selfish and unworthy. You are neither. As for the trials, the tasks are hard but not impossible.” Zephia sat beside them and caressed her son’s coils. “When you reach the Towering Shore, you will have to climb a cliff, atop of which is the passage into the Forbidden Gardens. There is a dragon at the gate, but as dragons go, it is small. I think Calen would be a match for it. You, however, will want to stay out of the way for that fight, Laidra.”
Her stomach quivering, Laidra nodded. “And the Gorgons?” People had compared her to these monsters in the past, so she knew they were ugly but nothing more.
“They are … not particularly malicious.” Zephia chewed her bottom lip. “They are tasked with guarding the Pool of Wisdom from the unworthy, so they might let you by, or you could avoid them by stealth. However, you must by no means look upon them. Meeting their eyes will turn you to stone.”
Laidra rubbed her arms, trying to push down the goosebumps. “All right, climb the cliffs, stay out of the way when Calen fights the dragon, and don’t look at the Gorgons. I guess we can manage that.”
“Laidra!” Ellea rushed from the palace. Something glinted in her hand. “Good, you’re still here.” She held forth a small bronze mirror, polished to a high gleam. “I heard Jovan mention the caves of the Gorgons. I thought if you were to face those creatures, you might need this.”
Laidra blinked at the mirror. Her own reflection stared back at her, a bit blurry but not as hideous as she’d remembered. She narrowed her eyes at her sister. Was this a jab at her appearance? “What would I need that for?”
Ellea huffed. “You don’t know the story? You can’t look directly at a Gorgon, but if you see them in a mirror, their power is weakened. I remember reading of a hero who passed them using this trick.”
“It’s true.” Zephia nodded. “Though that was many generations ago.”
Biting her bottom lip, Laidra took the mirror. “I don’t understand. Why are you helping me?”
Ellea hung her head. “I thought things would be perfect when Volen chose me to be his wife. He’s handsome; I’m lovely. I believed he would worship me. Materially, I want for nothing, but he’s so cold. When he touches me, it’s not out of love.” Her voice cracked. “I never thought I wanted love. I never thought it mattered, not when I had beauty and power and riches. Oh, but Laidra, his brother is tender towards you in spite of how you look, in spite of having nothing. I would give up everything to be shown that tenderness.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I don’t understand. I never used to feel this way, caring what others thought of me. I should be happy, but life is so empty.”
“Your curse was lifted.” Zephia gave her a sad smile. “You no longer need to be cruel to be beautiful.” She touched Ellea’s face. “Volen is my son as much as Calen. Be patient, princess. Within him is a hurt child. Perhaps if you give him kindness, you may lure it out yet.”
Laidra’s throat tightened. Could I really be feeling pity for Ellea? After all she put me through?
The mirror weighed in her hands, cold to the touch. “Thank you for the gift. If we get through this, perhaps things can be different between us.”
“I would say a prayer for you, but after seeing the gods taking sides like children squabbling over sweets, I’m not sure who to pray to.”
“To the one who created the gods,” Zephia said. “Did you think we sprang from the ether? No, Something came before us. We did not make the world; we merely divided it up and meddled in things.”
“I will think on that.” Ellea shifted from foot to foot. “Good-bye, Laidra. I hope you restore your prince.” She fled into the palace.
Zephia sighed. “It is time. Let me take you to your ship. I pray when next we meet all will be well.”
Laidra closed her eyes and said one more prayer to the unknown god. Whoever you are, please, please help us through this. I am afraid to hope, but I can’t fail, for Calen, yes, but also for myself. Give me the strength to overcome this trial.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The ship pitched beneath Calen, making his stomach churn. Low to the wooden deck, he felt trapped and disoriented. For the first part of their journey, he’d done his best to keep his head high, but the strain of holding up his massive head and the sting of the salt air on his lid-less eyes was wearying. Now he rested at Laidra’s feet as she gazed out over the waves and prayed the journey would soon be over.
A thunk vibrated the boards beneath him. He snapped around to find Phyrus shaking water from his wings.
“Look!” The god pointed.
The mist parted, revealing shining black cliffs rising into the blue sky.
Laidra stared in amazement. “And the gardens are at the top?”
“The passage to the gardens is. I’d worry about the dragon before you start planning a picnic on the lawn.” Phyrus crossed his arms.
She craned her neck towards the horizon. “How do we get up the cliff?”
“There’s a path. It’s narrow and probably slick with sea spray, but manageable. Watch your step and keep your pace strong. You’ll be over it in a few hours.”
Laidra nodded, but her hands quivered at her sides.
Phyrus’s breeze guided them to a narrow shelf of rock above the crashing waves. He set out a plank so Calen could slither ashore.
“I wish I could take you farther,” he said, “but Jovan will know of any violation of the terms and punish everyone involved.”
“I understand. Thank you for what you’ve done.” Laidra hopped onto the land.
Calen crawled across the plank. The cold seeped into his muscles as a dull ache. He longed to lie in the sun and recover his warmth, but there wasn’t time. It was already midday, and getting stranded on the narrow path when the light faded would be disastrous.
Laidra’s hand skimmed over his scales, sending a quiver through him. A smile played over her lips. Her green eyes—the only thing that had kept him going over the last two miserable days at sea—radiated hope. Though her face hadn't changed, he'd come to love looking at her, especially when she smiled and her eyes came to life. The warts and wrinkles faded, and all he could see was the soul behind them.
“Well, we’d better get started.” Laidra shifted the small pack containing foodstuffs and her sister’s mirror on her shoulders. She waved towards a ledge that wound up the cliff face, just wide enough for one person to stand on. “Ladies first?”
He tried to smile, but his tight, lipless jaws prevented this. She trudged up the path at a determined pace. His coils slid over the rocks as he followed.
Laidra soldiered on, glancing over her shoulder every so often to smile at him.
I wish we could devise some way to communicate. This would be a lot less tedious if we could talk.
They reached the first switchback. The wind whistled around them; not the tame, helpful breeze of his mother or grandfather, but a wild current which whipped at Laidra’s garments and hair.
“This isn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” she said, her breathlessness belying her brave words. “When I heard ‘cliffs’ and ‘Towering Shore,’ I assumed I’d be scrabbling up a vertical face and holding on by my fingernails.” She laughed.
The climb continued. Soon seabirds cried out below them, their harsh voices blending with the distant crash of waves and the constant wailing o
f the wind. Laidra paused. “It’s almost musical, you know. If I had my pipes and you your lyre, we could join the chorus.”
And if I had hands. Revulsion rippled through him. His tongue instinctively darted in and out, tasting the dirt. The scent of her lingered where her feet had trodden. It shot through his nostrils, almost dizzying in its potency. Well, at least if we get separated, I’ll be able to track her. This form has small advantages.
Laidra tilted her head to look up the cliff. Her shoulders slumped. “It feels as if we should be farther along. Well, let's pick up the pace.”
As the afternoon sun sank towards the sea, Laidra talked less and paused for breath more. She peeked over the edge once and blanched.
Calen, however, felt surprisingly strong. The rocks had absorbed the sun. Their warmth crept through him, stirring his blood and giving him energy.
Rocks skittered as Laidra stepped on loose gravel at another switchback. She gasped and swayed. Her hands flailed in the air.
Calen darted forward. His fangs sank through the cloth of her tunic. She flinched and sat down hard on the path before him.
Huffing, she shook her head. “Not a place to be clumsy. Thank you, Calen.” She caressed the back of his broad skull.
Laidra picked herself up and dusted off her skirt. “Calen, I love it when you call me ‘Laidy.’ Before you plucked me from the sea, no one ever cared enough to give me a nickname.” She began to walk again.
Calen followed, keeping a close watch on her footfalls for fear of another stumble.
“I feel bad that I never came up with one for you.” She dabbed her wrinkled brow with her sleeve. “Not that Calen isn’t a good name; in fact, it’s a beautiful name. I suppose I’m biased though. But Cay? Len? They don’t really have the same kind of affection in them. I think I like saying the full thing: Calen.” She drew out the syllables in a sigh.
He stretched forward and rubbed against her hand.
She smiled down at him. “Almost done. Look, I can see the end.”
By the time they reached the plateau, the setting sun had splashed red over the clouds. Laidra sat on a boulder and rubbed her calves. He curled up by her sandals.
A crest of rock stood before them like the wall of a fortress, not tall but jagged and forbidding. A narrow passage opened like a tear in a curtain, revealing a gorge with a slight downward slope. A few twisted trees had forced their way through the rocky soil, and scraggly patches of yellow grass grew around the boulders.
“We should stop for the night. We can probably find fuel for a fire here, don’t you think?”
He winced. By ‘we’ she meant ‘she,’ for he had no hands to work flint and gather kindling. Though perhaps there were other ways to help.
Gliding from the path, he approached the nearest tree. It was leafless, bleached white by the sun. He coiled up the trunk, his scales rasping against the dried wood. Once his body surrounded the trunk, he constricted his muscles. The tree groaned then splintered. He hit the ground with a satisfied grunt.
Laidra raised her eyebrows. “Well, that certainly beats chopping away with an axe.”
Soon a crackling fire flickered in the twilight. Calen slid as close to it as he dared. His bulk, however, got in his way, for even coiled his tightest, part of him was baking and the rest near freezing.
Laidra eased herself beside him. “I wish we could talk.” Her hand traced his coils, and she rested her head against him.
He loosened himself and looped about her body. She lay cradled in his scales, the firelight reflecting eerily in her eyes. The shadows eased the crags of her face. He watched her as her eyes fell shut. Tomorrow they would be facing a dragon. Tonight, however, they were together, and even with their twisted circumstances, that was a gift.
***
When Calen awoke the next morning, his muscles were stiff from cold. The fire had gone out, and the morning sun crept across the rocks, weak as water. Laidra stirred and sighed in her sleep, still nestled against him. Her body provided him with precious heat.
Tingles swept through him from where she rested. Her healing gift. The power flooded through him, providing sustenance for his rigid body. He raised his head and nosed at her cheek. His tongue flickered out involuntarily, and her scent flooded his mind. Sweet and intoxicating, it pushed him into a flood of memories. Pain swelled from his heart, rippling through him in a shudder.
Laidra sat up and blinked. “Oh, good morning.”
Unable to express what he’d just experienced, he uncoiled from around her and circled their camp.
She ate her breakfast of flatbread and goat cheese in silence, occasionally glancing at the narrow pathway leading inland.
“If that’s the only way into the Forbidden Gardens, it will be hard to sneak in.” She stood and brushed the crumbs from her tunic. “No cover, only one entrance … if the dragon knows that, it’s probably lying in wait for anyone who tries to enter.”
Calen nodded, the one form of communication still remaining to him. His mother had said he could match the dragon. Killing a human was unthinkable, but a dragon not so much. How though? He’d never fought with his human brain, only his animal instinct. Now that was gone.
“We should get moving.” Laidra shouldered her pack.
Calen hurried to block the path.
She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
He hesitated. Laidra wasn’t one to sit back and let others decide her fate, but when faced with a dragon … this time he needed her to do just that. Unable to think of another way to convey this, he shook his head.
She chewed her lip. “You want to go first?”
He nodded.
“I suppose I won’t be much use if there is a dragon in there. I should’ve asked for a weapon of some sort.” She kicked at a pebble. “Not that I’d have any idea how to use one. Still, Calen, please be careful.”
He nodded again.
“I won’t be far behind you.” She squared her shoulders. “I may not be able to fight, but I can heal. I’ll be there if you need me.”
His heart warmed. Rearing up off the ground so his eyes were even with hers, he rubbed his face against her cheek. He tasted the salt of her tears, and his emotions roiled within him. The desire to see their quest through to the end warred with a longing to wrap himself around her and never leave, but he forced himself to withdraw.
Calen slithered down the path, keeping to the edge where cool shadows still lurked. Not his preference, but he might have the advantage of surprise this way. Laidra followed a few yards behind, clinging to the walls of the narrow gorge. Her footsteps crunched on loose gravel. Calen winced and turned to hiss at her. She flushed.
He started forward again. The smell of the sea faded and gave way to a sulfurous reek. Just ahead, something lay across the path. From the space it took up, it had to be about twenty feet in length, not quite as long as Calen but bulkier, perhaps ten feet in height. Spikes stuck out like broken limbs along its back. In the dim light of the gorge, it looked dark gray, blending in with the stone around it. Its sides rose and fell.
Calen checked for Laidra. She hadn’t followed—or perhaps had the sense to stay out of sight with the creature lurking nearby. He drew a deep breath and slipped forward. Is my bite even venomous? I’ve never had an opportunity to test it. Maybe if I can sink my fangs in it while it sleeps, it will never awaken.
He poked out from the rocks, trying to flatten his body even tighter against the earth.
Closer, his eyes adjusted to the shadows. His breath left him. The creature was covered in thousands of diamond-shaped scales, like the tiles of a roof. In the middle of each scale was a yellow eye—half of which were open.
The dragon reared up. Its wedge-shaped head lacked the features of a true face. No nostrils, no eyes other than those within its pattern of scales. Its only feature was a gaping jaw filled with rows of hook-like teeth.
Calen’s courage fled like water.
The creature lurched onto four stocky legs and belche
d a stinking breath. It roared, its tone a mix of lion and ox. Rocks skittered from the walls of the gorge.
Calen drew his body into a tight coil and swayed side to side, his eyes never leaving the beast. It swung its front talons forward, great three-toed feet Calen couldn’t help comparing to a chicken’s. The ground shook. Its jaws opened.
The dragon barreled towards him. Calen’s pulse pounded. He struck, jaws clamping around the end of the dragon’s snout. Fumes from the monster’s mouth stung his eyes. Its roar heightened into a shriek of pain.
Calen held on with every ounce of his strength as the dragon thrashed. It shook its head from side to side, and Calen’s body snapped like a whip. His tail hit the walls on either side of the narrow gorge. His breath gave out, but he sank his fangs deeper into his enemy’s leathery scales.
The dragon snapped its jaws. Another burst of acrid breath billowed forth. Calen’s throat closed in on itself. He needed air. His hold weakened, and another jerk from the dragon sent him flying into the cliff face. Something snapped part way down his length. He could no longer feel the tip of his tail. As he skittered behind an outcropping of boulders, dots danced before his eyes.
Hopefully Laidra has the good sense to stay out of this. By the gods, I need a better strategy.
Poking his head out from between two rocks, he watched the dragon stalk towards him. Eyes blinked all over its body. Perhaps those could be a weakness, though they also made it impossible for Calen to seek out a blind spot. Calen needed any advantage he could muster.
The dragon didn’t have much speed. Its short, thick legs were powerful but without great reach. It was built like a tree trunk, strong and muscular. A tree trunk. Calen would’ve smiled had he had the lips.
He flattened himself between the rocks and waited. The dragon nosed at the boulders, rocking them, trying to flip them over and root out Calen. Its breath permeated the air. Calen’s eyes watered, and he nearly gagged.
Come on, you brute. Just a little closer.
The dragon pushed aside the closest stone and loomed over him.
