“I watched you single-handedly dispose of the bandits. The knight, if anything, appeared to be in the way.”
“That’s because he is a doofus. If not for me, he would have been dead a thousand times over.”
“Why do you help him, then?”
“Do you see that ring on his finger?”
Truly looked again at the big emerald ring gleaming in the fire light. She’d noticed it before, as it was hard to miss. “Yes.”
“That ring binds me to him.”
“How did he find it?”
“By pure luck. As a boy, he came across my dead charge.”
“Dead charge?”
“The man I had been bound to before. He had been a charlatan, and knew of me, and used me to steal from the pockets of his customers. I stole money and wristwatches and heirlooms, many he kept and many more he held for ransom, until the owners could pay him. He was a bad man. I was pleased when he had drunk himself into a stupor, and pleased further when he suffocated on his own vomit. The boy Longmire had come upon the charlatan’s weathered bones in a field.”
“You stayed with the body long after death?”
“I stayed with the ring, Your Highness.”
“And Longmire is unaware of the ring’s true purpose?”
“He sees it as good luck.”
Truly thought about it, then walked over to the sleeping Sir Longmire, reached down, and pulled free the ring. The knight barely stirred and only smacked his lips. Truly held the massive gem in her hand, marveling at its craftsmanship. Then slipped it onto her own finger. The little djinn, who had been hovering over the fire, flew to her and alighted upon her shoulder. From the corner of her eye, she could see him bow deeply.
“Your wish is my command, Your Highness.”
Chapter 14: Blue Egg
Truly was pleased to have acquired such a potent ally so expeditiously. She was sure she would have no trouble getting the blue egg, with the djinn’s help. In fact that help well might assist her in becoming a truly powerful figure on the island. She liked the ring of that: Truly Powerful.
Then she became aware of the direction of the djinn’s gaze as he perched on her shoulder: almost straight down. “Are you looking down inside my blouse?” she demanded.
“Indubitably. It is a marvelous reward of my position, Highness. I have not been treated to such a glorious frontal glimpse in centuries, since I served a harem guard. He was of course a eunuch, but I am not. I love it when you breathe.”
Truly considered. She could surely fetch the blue egg with very little danger, with his help. It behooved her to keep the little imp happy. There was no point in holding her breath. So she changed the subject. “What is your name?”
“I am Djim.”
“Djim Djinn?”
“Exactly, mistress.”
“Mistress?”
“It is the female form of master, and you are very much female.”
She was not completely satisfied, but concluded, again, that compromise was best. “Just call me by my name.”
“Yes, Truly.”
“I think it best that no one else know of your presence, Djim. I want Sir Longmire to continue believing that he is protecting me. Can you do that?”
“I can, as long as he is near you. I must remain close enough to you to protect you.”
That meant that Sir Longmire would continue to get glimpses. Well, it couldn’t be helped. She was not about to change her comfortable outfit just because a man looked at it. But maybe there was a way to handle it. “Can you fog out my décolletage so that he can’t actually see anything he shouldn’t?”
“Done, Truly.”
She glanced down. Now nothing special was visible inside her blouse. Just teasingly shapely shadows. Good enough. But there was another issue. “When he wakes, he’ll notice that his ring is missing, and he’ll see it on me. That may make him suspicious. Can you put a fake ring on him? And fog out mine?”
“I can make linked illusions,” Djim said. “So that he sees the ring as being on his finger, and it is invisible on yours. Will that do?”
“Nicely, thank you.”
The ring disappeared from her finger and reappeared on the sleeping man’s finger. But she knew she still had it, because she could feel it. Good enough.
It was time for her to sleep. “Do you sleep?” she asked the djinn.
“Never. But I can fake it when necessary.”
What would he be looking at while she slept? His perch on her shoulder was entirely too close for her esthetic comfort, especially because she was bound to be breathing, but she couldn’t tell him to go away. Well, she could handle that. She put on her jacket and closed it up tight, theoretically for warmth. “Good night, Djim.” She lay down and closed her eyes.
“Oh, bother,” he muttered.
In the morning the knight had his usual good luck refurbishing the fire, not even seeing the busy djinn, and they ate heated leftovers for breakfast. Then they moved on, she back in her light traveling skirt and blouse.
At noon they reached the fabled Blue Mountain where it rested beside the Blue River. Everything in the vicinity was a shade of blue. Near the highest blue crag was a crevice that provided anchorage for the great blue dragon’s nest. It was perched almost directly above the river far below, probably for convenient dragon launching. She had to scale that mountain to fetch the egg? That was daunting.
But Truly was a smart girl. She had special resources. Djim, she thought. Can you fetch me a pair of magic boots so that I can walk safely up that mountain slope?
I can, Truly. I can conjure them from a private cache I have.
Do so, once we are alone. Meanwhile, can you protect the knight if he goes to yon hill? She gestured toward the hill.
Yes, as long as he is in my sight.
Do so, as needed.
Then she crafted her most winning smile. “Sir Longmire, why don’t you go to the top of yon hill and distract the dragon so I can safely scale the mountain and take the egg?” Her suggestion had the force of a command; she was after all a princess.
The knight was startled. “That mountain is not safe for a delicate flower like you to scale. You might tumble into the river and drown. Then your father would be most wroth with me.” He did not need to say more. He would be far better off to tumble in and drown himself. She could not command him to put herself at significant risk.
But there were other ways. Remove the fog for ten seconds. She leaned forward and put her soft hand on the knight’s arm. “Please. I assure you I will be duly careful.”
Longmire, though half-stunned by the near view, opened his mouth to protest.
She took a deep breath.
By the time he recovered his common sense, Longmire was on his way up a nearby blue foothill in plain sight of the dragon’s nest.
Now Truly donned the magic hiking boots the djinn provided. They were secure and comfortable on her feet, and anchored to the ground so firmly that she knew they would do.
The knight reached the top of the foothill. “Hey blue funk!” he yelled, waving his arms. “I dare you to take me on, you coward!” He made an obscene upward thrusting motion with his sword that was bound to heat the dragon’s fires.
The blue dragon lurched off her nest, spread her great blue wings, and climbed into the sky. Then she oriented on the distant man with blue smoke puffing from her nostrils. He stood defiantly, ready to smite her with his sword when she came within range. The challenge was ludicrous, except that Djim Djinn was on duty as usual.
Truly strode up the steep mountain slope on the side away from the river. Not only did the magic boots hold firm, they enabled her to walk at a tilt that kept her at right angles to the rock. They kept her comfortably warm. They also provided her with remarkable energy, so that she did not tire at all. She really liked these boots!
She reached the blue nest and peeked over the rim. There was a single blue egg. It was larger than an ordinary bird’s egg, but she could handle it
. She climbed in, as the nest was big enough to hold her, and picked up the egg, half surprised to feel its warmth. But of course it was warm!
She tucked the egg into the crook of her arm, regretting that she hadn’t thought to bring a bag to hold it. She went to the edge of the nest—
There was the dragon flying toward her, squawking angrily. The distraction hadn’t lasted long enough! She hoped that Longmire hadn’t been scorched. But no, there he was, waving his sword overhead and jumping up and down. But the dragon was no longer interested in him. What could she do?
Truly leaped out of the nest on the river side, holding the egg. She plummeted toward the water. She knew how to swim, but this was an awfully high dive, and she could not let go of the egg. It occurred to her belatedly that she might not have made the best choice.
Then her descent slowed. The boots were sustaining her! She landed on the water, and did not plunge under the surface. In fact she stood on it, with the djinn perched on her shoulder.
Well now. She walked toward the bank, crossing the blue water, only slightly denting its surface. This footwear was even better than she had known. “Djim, may I keep these wonderful boots?”
“Well—” he started doubtfully.
She would have to bargain. “I will not sleep in my jacket as long as the boots keep me warm.” Meaning that he could look at what he wanted, while she slept.
He capitulated, being male. “Wear them as long as you wear the ring.”
“Deal,” she agreed.
She reached the shore and stepped back onto land. But now the dragon was angling down, orienting on her with vicious intent.
She looked quickly around. There was no good cover within range, except possibly the water: if she dived in and swam below. But there were three problems there: she would have to remove the boots, lest they keep her on top, and when she came back up, the dragon would be there, ready to toast her. And she would have trouble swimming while holding the egg.
She stood still while these thoughts were racing through her head. In that interval the dragon swooped down—and passed her by, not frying her.
Or had Djim put up a heat shield to protect her from the blue fire?
“I did,” the djinn answered her thought. “But it turned out not to be necessary. She withheld her fire.”
“Why did she do that?” But as she spoke, Truly saw the answer: she was holding the dragon’s precious egg. The creature couldn’t fry one without frying the other.
That in turn brought another realization: to the human folk, the blue egg was a gustatory prize, a fabulous meal. But to the dragon, it was her baby.
Truly was a woman. A young one, an impetuous one, but a woman. She wanted to marry and have her own babies in due course. Woe betide the one who tried to kill her babies!
The dragon was a woman. A ferocious, flying, fire breathing one, but a woman of her kind. Of course she had to defend her baby. Truly understood that on a fundamental level.
Did she really want to take the blue egg?
She looked around again, this time with a new perspective. There were the mountain, the river, and the high nest. The dragon circled warily in the sky; she would not be able to carry her egg back up there, and would have to nest on the ground if she recovered the egg. But Truly could do it, using her boots. She could take the blue egg safely back to the nest. She could return what she had stolen. She could let the baby blue dragon live.
If Truly took the egg to her father, she would be a heroine and a largely free princess. Her life ambition would be realized.
If she returned home without the egg, she would be a failure and scullery maid again. But she would have the boots. And Djim Djinn. And her private personal vindication as a potential mother. As a woman.
She had to choose. Which was it to be?
Chapter 15: Wingless
“Perhaps I can be of help, mistress,” said the small voice upon her shoulder.
Truly shielded her eyes, “I’m listening.”
“Were you aware that there are, in fact, two sets of dragons upon this mountain?”
“I was not, no.”
“Few were. Indeed, most do not get much further than this leeward side of the mountain.”
“Leeward?”
“It is the side of the mountain protected from the wind. It is also the territory of the flying blue dragon.”
“You emphasized flying.”
“Very good, mistress. Upon the windward side of the mountain, there resides a flightless species of blue dragon, a species that is very populous, a species that lays not only many eggs, but often many unfertilized eggs, much like your chickens and ducks.”
“Why do we not know of—never mind. The flying blue dragon scares them away.”
“Indeed, mistress. Few mortals have crossed over to the windward side—that is, the side that gets most of the wind and rain and vegetation. Particularly thick vegetation. Another reason why the wingless species have gone unnoticed. They remain hidden, flourishing, while their winged cousin scares away men and their penchant for hunting.”
Truly considered what she’d just heard, and the more she considered, the more excited she got. “Are you suggesting what I am thinking you are suggesting?”
“I am suggesting what you are thinking I am suggesting.”
“Are you okay, Your Highness?” echoed a voice from a great distance away. It was Sir Longmire, and he was a sorry sight: sweating, out of breath, and leather jerkin trousers torn asunder. She realized the man had ran down the hill at a full sprint, through thorns and brier patches and anything else that might have slapped at him. Mostly, she saw the concern in his eyes. And something else, something she had missed.
“He’s smitten, yes,” said Djim Djinn, as they watched the knight stumble over boulders and crash through grass. “As he has been since the first day he laid eyes on you, mistress.”
“How long ago was that?” she asked. The knight was still too far away to hear.
“When you were both very young. It is why, when he found the ring, I answered his unasked request. Indeed, I am compelled to.”
“What was his unasked request?”
“To become the world’s greatest knight.”
Truly sensed there was more. “And?”
“To win your heart.”
“I am hardly in love with him. And what right does a djinn have to control who one loves?”
“We don’t. He merely wanted to win your love.”
“Well, look at him. Is he hardly worth love?”
But as soon as she said it, she saw something else, too. She saw that he was badly injured: indeed, the dragon had scorched him. His right arm was red and raw, but he ignored it. Indeed, his concern was only for her.
“Heal him, Djim. But not too quickly. But double or triple the process, and leave no scars.”
“As you wish, mistress. He is a fine man with a brave heart.”
“But he is clumsy.”
“He was lucky to have found me. But the truth is, he would have eventually become a fine knight all on his own.”
“You have stunted him in a way.”
“I have.”
“Well, I can’t have him being killed. He’s in no position to defend himself. I need to keep him close, and I need you to keep your eye on him.”
“As you wish. And the flightless dragons?”
“Let’s go find one of their eggs.” She glanced down. “After I return this egg to its mother.”
***
And so the princess, with the help of the bumbling knight—and Djim Djinn, of course—returned the flying dragon’s egg to the nest, then retrieved one of the many unfertilized eggs of the flightless ground dragons.
Shortly, they returned home triumphantly, holding the egg, and the king feasted upon it and declared it to be terrible, which was probably for the best. Truly was not keen to reveal the fact that the egg had been of the flightless variety, and nor had anyone asked. Her reasoning was sound: a blue dragon
egg was a blue dragon egg, whether winged or not.
In due course, the king released her from her marital obligations, and shortly after that, she wed the brave and suddenly accident-prone knight, for she had grown quite fond of the awkward man who loved her so. It was a great ceremony, with much pomp and circumstance, after which they honeymooned in the country where Truly made arrangements with a very secretive knight who went by the name of Lancelot, to teach her new husband the way of the sword. For, by then, the new bride had confessed her sin of stealing the ring. Both had promptly agreed to release the little djinn from his bondage to the ring. As a thank you, the magical creature stayed by their side and watched over them and their many uncoordinated kids all the days of their lives. She also used her magic boots to trek rapidly to the blue dragon nest every month or so to visit the new baby dragon, Dan, whom she had spared, as the mother dragon appreciated. It was the beginning of a wonderful human-dragon alliance that would truly benefit the kingdom, as her father appreciated.
Chapter 16: Naughty Nauticals
Floyd finished narrating the story. “That’s it,” he said. “And they all live happily ever after.” Was it enough? He had liked the tale while he was in it, as it were, but now he was back in reality, and feared it was inadequate.
“That was a very nice tale,” the Emperor said via Faux’s translation. “Now we will hear the competitive story.” He turned to his chief storyteller.
The Storyteller looked at the panel of judges, all royal women. They seemed to be in a daze. “Your eminence, I have a wonderful story to tell, all about invading the enemy island and slaughtering our enemies, that any man would love, but I can see that the judges have already decided the winner. It’s a woman’s story! I think we should save time and confess a default.”
Surprised, the Emperor looked at the women. “What say you, fair judges?”
“He’s right,” the lead princess agreed. “We love Truly. She’s our kind of girl. She did what she had to do, with the tools she had available. We’d all like to have a captive djinn and a pair of boots like that. Who wants another male tale of pointless bloodshed? Magic and romance are so much better. So is peace with blue dragons.”
The Journey Page 8
