The Bones of Makaidos

by Bryan Davis

  “I remember now,” Sapphira said, holding up the lantern. “The dragon said something about light being a key.”

  “A key to every locked door.” Bonnie put the staff back in place and picked up the hourglass. “I guess we just walk toward the door.”

  Extending the lantern, Sapphira waved it across the door from left to right. With a low creak, the heavy panel swung toward them. Daylight spilled in, though still muted by the gray overcast.

  Bonnie shielded her eyes and stepped out into the valley they had left behind. As her vision adjusted, she scanned the scene—grass under her feet, a river only fifty or so paces away, and several statues standing at various places.

  Sapphira joined her. “Now to find your father.”

  The rusty hinges sounded again. Bonnie spun back, but there was no wooden door, just a rectangular hole in the scenery that led into the hallway. When the panel closed, the gap filled in, leaving no sign of the passage to the resurrection chamber.

  She tried to touch the invisible door, but her hand passed right through. “How are we going to find this place again?”

  “With this.” Sapphira set the lantern on the grass. “If we find the lantern, we find the door.”

  “That might be a big if.”

  “We’ll make a sign at the riverbank.”

  The two ran to the river’s edge. Sapphira fished a grapefruit-sized oblong stone from the bed and drove it far enough into the soft ground to make it stand on end. “That ought to do it,” she said, clapping her hands together.

  Bonnie nodded upstream. “Let’s go. The sand is almost half gone.” Holding the hourglass steady, she took off in a trot. As they ran, she searched for Abaddon, but he was nowhere in sight. Within a minute, they arrived at the waterfall. Bonnie stopped at the edge of the pool.

  “Daddy!” she called. “It’s Bonnie!”

  Sapphira looked into the deep water. “No sign of him down there.”

  Bonnie scanned the sandy edge for footprints. She found tracks leading in but nothing leading out.

  “Look!” Sapphira pointed at a long indentation closer to the waterfall. “Something was dragged away from here.”

  Bonnie and Sapphira followed a trail of flattened sand and grass that ran parallel to the waterfall’s cliff. It led into a sparse forest of skinny pines and a few oaks. Since needles coated the ground, the trail was easy to follow. Finally, they rounded a massive oak and found his body sitting upright against the trunk.

  “Daddy?” Bonnie dropped to her knees next to him. His clothes felt damp, and his eyes were closed. “Are you all right?”

  “He is alive,” a female with a French accent replied, “but he is unconscious.”

  Bonnie turned toward the sound. A teenager sat on a knee-high boulder only a few feet away. With waist-length blond hair, a long white dress overlaid with a brown tunic, and a sword scabbard attached to a leather belt, she seemed to have stepped out of a medieval storybook. A shield leaning against the boulder completed the portrait.

  “Who are you?” Bonnie asked.

  The girl slid down. As soon as her feet touched the needle-strewn path, her body burst into flames.

  Bonnie gasped and stepped back, but Sapphira held her ground, staring.

  The girl walked toward them, her beaming face still clear through the flames. Although her feet blazed, the needles didn’t catch fire. “I am a sojourner, like your father, yet I am not a fugitive from the dragon.” With her hands folded behind her, she leaned to the side as if trying to look behind Bonnie. “May I ask who you are? I have never seen a winged maiden before.”

  Trying not to tremble, Bonnie drew a wing around to her front and touched the tip. “I guess you could call me a sojourner, too. I’m from West Virginia in the United States.”

  “I see. And as you have likely guessed, I am from France.” She added a gentle laugh, the same laugh Bonnie heard during their search for the ovulum. “I have been told that my English carries my native land’s flavor.”

  Bonnie looked at the hourglass. Two-thirds of the sand had spilled into the bottom. “We have to get him to the resurrection table. Can you help us?”

  She gazed at Bonnie’s father. “I have watched this one. He fears Abaddon’s enchantment and has hidden for quite some time. But all who will rise from the table must willingly come under the dragon’s control.”

  “What about you?” Sapphira asked. “You’re not one of the statues.”

  “Until it is my turn to rise to new life, I have been assigned to watch over the reluctant ones. I am here to show them what they must become, spirits enflamed by an indwelling passion to serve God with body, soul, and mind. You might say that I am an illustration.” She withdrew a sword from her scabbard and rested it on her shoulder. “Your father was attacked by the pool’s guardian, a stingray of sorts. I rescued him and purged the water from his lungs, but he now suffers from the stinger’s poison.”

  “Poison?” Bonnie reached into her pocket and withdrew Elam’s vial. After jerking the stopper out with her teeth, she pushed the top between her father’s lips and tapped the bottom, forcing the last drops into his mouth.

  She pushed the vial back into her pocket and drummed her fingers against her thigh, watching for the slightest hint of change as she spoke through clenched teeth. “Come on. Come on.”

  Her father blinked his eyes. As he looked at her, his brow shot up. “Bonnie?”

  “Daddy!” She hugged him briefly, then grabbed his arms, grunting as she pulled him up. “Come on! We have to resurrect you from the dead.”

  Billy felt a nudge. Was it part of his dream? Maybe.

  Then again, maybe not. He turned his head. More sleep. He just needed a little more sleep.

  The nudge came again. “I’m sorry to wake you, but we have a lot to talk about.”

  Forcing his eyes open, Billy looked up from his straw-stuffed pillow. “Elam?”

  Elam stood next to his bed, dressed in his new battle uniform, an orange short-sleeved tunic over two shirts—a thick, silver shirt with sleeves almost to his elbows and a red one with sleeves reaching to his wrists. “I talked to Ashley. It sounds like you and Walter had quite a night.”

  Billy scanned the room. Sir Barlow and Candle stood near the open door, their hands loosely gripping the hilts of their swords. Candle’s companion rushed through the boy’s dreadlocks, making them sway.

  “Yeah, we did,” Billy said. “How’s he doing?”

  Elam touched the front of his tunic where a red dragon marching on his hind legs was superimposed over a circle divided into twelve sections, emblematic of the twelve dragons who were called to become humans in the time of King Arthur. “The chest wound is still pretty bad, but thanks to some heroic surgery by Ashley, Steadfast, and you, it looks like he’ll be all right, though he’ll be laid up for a while.”

  Billy rose to a sitting position and focused on Elam’s face. Although a smile dressed his lips, his eyes seemed far more serious. “What time is it?”

  “Almost second hour. That’s why I woke you. You said you were going to test the portal with Acacia, so you need to get started. Also, Candle would like another flying lesson, and we have some other business to discuss before the ceremony tonight.”

  “Other business?”

  Elam turned and nodded at Barlow and Candle. “Go ahead and gather the men and horses. I’ll be at the training field in a few minutes.”

  “Valiant and Windor gathered them,” Candle said. “Dikaios and Ember are already at the field. I thought you knew—”

  “Ahem!” Sir Barlow grasped Candle’s arm. “Very good, warrior chief,” Barlow said. “We will see you at the training grounds.” He turned and hustled Candle out the door.

  As they departed, Barlow’s powerful voice carried back to the hut, fading as they grew more distant. “Never remind a commanding officer of something both of you already know. That was just his way of telling us that he wanted to speak to William in private. It is important to learn
…”

  Smiling, Elam reached down, locked wrists with Billy, and hoisted him to his feet. “Emerald told me about her guest, the woman who brought her son, the burn victim.”

  “Right. Semiramis.” Billy stretched his stiff back. He wasn’t quite accustomed to sleeping on straw. “Her son was pretty bad off. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Elam patted Billy on the shoulder. “You did fine. Apparently she tells a convincing story.”

  “You think it’s not true?”

  “I’m not saying that, but after encountering her at the bridge, I’m not sure what to believe. She tried to get me to go another way, and that would have been the wrong choice.”

  Billy picked his cloak off the floor and put one arm through a sleeve. “Being wrong about something doesn’t make a person evil.”

  “Trust me. I know. I’ve been wrong plenty of times. And her story about being betrayed by Arramos makes sense, too, but there are holes she needs to fill.” Elam rested his hand on the hilt of a sword protruding from a scabbard at his hip. “Why does she live in the Bridgelands while her son lives in Second Eden? If she has a son who looks about fifty, why does she look no older than twenty-five? Why hasn’t anyone here ever heard of the village he’s supposedly from? Yet, Hunter has a companion, so it’s hard to dispute that he’s a true Second Eden resident.”

  “And she doesn’t seem to pose any danger,” Billy added. “Clefspeare didn’t detect any.”

  “Neither did Thigocia or Hartanna. They talked to her this morning.”

  “How about Ashley? Could she pick up anything?”

  Elam shook his head. “But that doesn’t really prove much. Back when they first met at the bridge, Ashley didn’t detect Semiramis’s presence. And since Semiramis is somehow able to block her thoughts, Ashley doesn’t trust her. If Semiramis didn’t have anything to hide, she wouldn’t be putting up a shield.”

  “Makes sense, unless Semiramis doesn’t trust Ashley.”

  Elam tightened his grip on his sword, and his voice lowered. “You weren’t at the bridge. If you had seen her that day, you would know that my low regard for Semiramis needs no further proof.”

  They stared at each other for a moment. Billy firmed his chin and gave Elam a nod of surrender. Obviously this thousands-of-years-old warrior had a lot more experience. “I’d better check on Walter.” Billy finished putting on his cloak. “Maybe a good pep talk will cheer him up.”

  Elam grabbed his arm. “Do it when you get back. Acacia and Listener are already waiting at the dragon launching field. And Listener made breakfast for you, so after you wash up, you can get started.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Picking up a basin and Excalibur, Billy headed to an area behind the hut, filled his basin from a pump, and hurried to the men’s bathhouse, one of two in the village. Although it was little more than a five-station outhouse with wooden tubs for bathing, it had everything anyone really needed. After a quick face wash, he hustled toward the dragon launching field.

  As he ran, it seemed that something pulled him back. So many needs beckoned him. How was Walter feeling? What was Semiramis up to? Did anything change in the garden during the night? With Ruth’s next attempt to resurrect Makaidos at hand, would the Vacants try to disrupt it?

  Billy heaved a sigh. Others would have to take care of those issues. He had his own job to do.

  When he arrived at the field, Acacia and Listener had already buckled two seats on Grackle, the purple dragon, and one on Albatross, the white. Listener, wearing a rabbit-hide tunic with a belt that held her spyglass in place, patted Grackle on his flank. “You and Acacia can take him, and I’ll lead the way with Albatross.”

  Billy held out his arms. “Hugs first!”

  Listener leaped into his embrace, her twin pigtails flying. As he pulled her close, he relished the delightful warmth, even the tickle of her companion as it nuzzled his cheek. In less than a month this sweet little girl had become like a sister, so loving, so innocent, pure joy in a feminine little package.

  “So how’s the best dragon pilot in all of Second Eden doing this morning?” he asked as he let her down.

  She grinned. “Valiant’s the best flyer. Everyone knows that.”

  “Okay. Second best.” Billy reached for Acacia and gave her a hug from the side. “Ready to open a portal?”

  “I’m not sure.” Acacia laid a hand on her forehead. “I woke up dizzy this morning.”

  He cocked his head and looked into her vibrant blue eyes. “Any idea why?”

  “I had an unusual dream. I saw Mardon shining a strange light in my eyes. It had many colors—red, blue, purple, yellow. Even in the dream, I felt dizzy. Then I felt a sharp pain in my scalp, and I woke up. It seemed that someone ran away from me, but my head was swimming so much, I couldn’t tell for certain. The dizziness has lessened, but it never went away.”

  “Are you sure you should go? If you’re feeling weak, we wouldn’t want you to catch a cold or something.”

  “I’ll be all right.” She tightened a belt that wrapped her tunic, jostling a coiled rope dangling from a clip. “I think I’ll be warm enough in this.”

  “I know what you mean.” Billy said, giving his arms a flap. “I’m getting used to the cold here. Just a cloak is enough. I think the fireproofing stuff Ashley put on it makes it warmer.”

  Listener looked up at the cirrus-scattered sky. “It’s the clouds. We never got clouds here before, and now it’s warmer. But the season of death starts tonight, so everything could change very soon.”

  “Speaking of cold,” Billy said, “did you pack extra clothes in case we get some visitors through the portal?”

  “Yes, sir.” Listener nodded toward Grackle. Two garment bags had been tied behind his rear seat.

  Billy scanned over the village roofs and locked his gaze on the trees bordering the field leading to the birthing garden. “Where’s the rest of our firepower?”

  “Thigocia was meeting with Clefspeare and Hartanna,” Acacia said. “Something about the lady in red and her son.”

  “What’s your take?” Billy asked. “Can we trust her?”

  “When I saw her with her son, her love seemed convincing, but I’m not sure.” Acacia folded her arms over her chest and looked skyward. “I think we should keep her far from the birthing garden during the ceremony. I’m suspicious about her showing up the night before.”

  Billy nodded. She was right. The last time they tried to bring Makaidos back, a deceiver prevented it from happening. Semiramis’s arrival seemed too coincidental. “My dad will keep an eye on her,” he said, “and I’ll watch her with both eyes when we get back.”

  Listener reached into a shoulder bag on the ground and handed Billy a fist-sized roll. “It’s berry bread. I baked it this morning.”

  “Thank you.” He raised the warm roll to his nose and drew in its aroma—rich grain, ripe fruit, and something sweet, maybe honey. “What kind of berries do you use?”

  “We call them pucker berries, because they’re so tart when you first pick them. If you let them ripen on the vines, the birds get most of them, so we pick them early and wait for them to get sweeter before we eat them. Walter says they look like the raspberries from your world.”

  Billy bit into the roll. “Mmm, good,” he said, muffled by his mouthful.

  “There’s Thigocia!” Listener pointed toward the village. A beige dragon flew over the treetops, casting a shadow on the village’s huts. With a flurry of wings, she settled down next to Billy. The other two dragons, about a fourth smaller, bowed their heads. Albatross seemed nervous, shuddering his wings and even spilling ice pellets from his nostrils. It hadn’t taken the dragons of this world long to assume a subservient position to the dragons from Earth, yet their only negative reaction was a hint of fear rather than resentment.

  Listener trotted up to Thigocia and touched a stitched portion of her wing. “How does it feel today?”

  “I am perfectly well, thank you.” Thigocia curle
d her neck and set her eyes near the wound in her canopy. “I considered asking the seamstress to remove the stitches, but she is so busy making military uniforms, I had not the heart. I would have pulled them out myself, but my wing bonded with the stitching material, so I need the assistance of skilled hands.”

  Billy touched one of the stitches. “I can probably do it. Mom made me learn how to sew.”

  “Perhaps later. I can fly well enough, so I will have no problem completing this mission.”

  “Sounds good.” Billy pointed toward the northern forest. “When we get to the highlands, we’ll scan the area for Vacants. If all is clear, Grackle and Albatross will drop us off on the plateau and we’ll hike up the volcano while all three dragons patrol. Once we’re there, our return plan depends on whether or not Acacia is able to open the portal.”

  Listener whistled a sharp note. Albatross lowered his head to the ground, making his neck into a staircase. Picking up the shoulder bag, she scrambled up to the seat and strapped in. “I’ve never been to Mount Elijah through the air. This should be fun.”

  “I agree,” Acacia said as she climbed aboard Grackle in the same fashion. She settled into the rear seat. “We can bypass the skunk lizards.”

  Billy laughed. A month ago, when he went with Acacia, Listener, and her brother, Candle, to Mount Elijah, Candle led Acacia home and took a shortcut through a swampy area inhabited by four-foot-long lizards that sprayed a foul liquid on intruders. Acacia wasn’t quick enough and suffered the consequences.

  After strapping into Grackle’s front seat, Billy wolfed down the rest of the berry bread as he scanned the darkening skies. Clouds rolled in from the east. Though not yet ominous, they might soon obscure the mountain. Traveling by dragon rather than by airplane, however, would simplify matters. They could buzz across the tops of the trees and follow the footpath until they reached the lava field that signaled the approach to the volcano. Once there, they could land anywhere they chose.

  Listener had warned him, however, that although the ice-breathing dragons were adept at landing on areas as small as the top of Mount Elijah, the volcano frightened them, so it was much safer to disembark close to the base.