Royal Rescue

by A. Alex Logan

  One of which started chiming as soon as Gerald grabbed it.

  “I’ll get the rest,” Omar said, setting his empty bowl aside. “See what Erick thinks of our new plan.”

  Gerald dripped ink on the parchment and waited for his cousin’s response to appear while Omar scrambled around the cave after the rest of the loose papers. By the time he returned with them—and set his empty bowl on top of the pile as a paperweight—Erick’s response was fully written out and waiting to be read.

  Meathead,

  Good timing with the change of plan! I tweaked the disabling spell to make it “contagious” and I was going to test it out this morning. I guess I’ll hold off on that for the moment. I haven’t reached Princess Nedi yet, or her guardian. When they say “Enchanted” Forest, they aren’t kidding. I can’t imagine anyone without some skill in magic being able to find their way through. I expect I will be able to manage it, but it’s going to take a bit more planning than I had thought.

  Speaking of, it sounds like you’ve been doing quite a lot of that yourself. I like your new idea. For one thing, it would mean I could stop eating my own cooking.

  In all seriousness, though, it seems like quite a practical suggestion. I know you’ve had objections to the current set up, above and beyond your own desire not to participate in it, I mean, and I think your showcase system addresses most of them. I also don’t see why the Council would object to it since it will accomplish the same aims… But I agree this should be a case of “do it first and get permission later”. But for most of the kingdoms, I imagine as long as their precious child comes home betrothed, they won’t much care where that betrothal occurred.

  I don’t much care myself! And as I said…I won’t have to eat my own cooking. Or fight my way through an enchanted forest. Or past a unicorn.

  So I guess the question is: How can I help?

  Yours,

  Erick

  “There,” Omar said with satisfaction. “I told you, you had a convert.”

  “Yeah, but what am I supposed to tell him? How can he help?”

  Omar rubbed his chin and said, “Well…it seems to me he’d be quite handy getting things set up. It’s not merely finding a place to hold the showcase. We’d need to house everyone and their horses; we’d need to feed them, and have somewhere to cook; we’d need a jousting run, and an archery ground; a stage for plays or concerts; booths for people to display handicrafts… A bit of magic would come in handy while we’re trying to construct everything. The dragon can do magic too, of course, but we’ll need the dragon for transport and heavy lifting, and I wouldn’t want to tire it out.”

  “I’m getting tired just thinking about it,” Gerald said with resignation. “All right. I think you’re right. We should rendezvous with Erick—and anyone he’s run across who he thinks will be helpful and discreet—and start construction. At least of the housing and spaces for food storage and preparation. As soon as we have somewhere to put people and a way to feed them, we can go find them and bring them back with the dragon. Erick can supervise the people we bring and get them to help finish construction while we collect the rest. Maybe some of the guardians we free can help with the transportation, too.”

  “That’s settled, then,” Omar said with a grin. “So…where are we going to build all this?”

  Gerald sighed and handed him a map. “You tell me.”

  THEY HADN’T MADE any progress in finding a suitable location by the time the dragon came back and settled in the cave opening once more.

  “Good hunting?” Gerald asked.

  “Not bad,” it replied, showing its teeth. “But the snow is coming down harder now and most of the prey has gone to ground.”

  “Don’t say that word,” Omar groaned.

  “Prey?”

  “Ground. Unless you know where we can find some to put this showcase.”

  The dragon cocked its head thoughtfully to the side. “I might. How do you feel about hosting it in dragon territory?”

  They exchanged glances and Gerald shrugged. “If the dragons don’t object, neither do I. We’ve gotten along just fine with you, after all.”

  “Oh, I don’t think they’ll object. After all, they want this system to end as much as we do. No one likes losing their hatchlings. We’ll fly there in the morning and get it sorted out.”

  Omar folded the maps up with an expression of relief. “Thank goodness. That was really the last stumbling block—at least for the moment.” He and Gerald filled the dragon in on the rest of their plans, and it nodded approval.

  “I can fetch your cousin after we talk to my relatives,” it said. “Quite a few of us dragons are magic-users, and we already have guest caves and the like where we can store and feed you royals. I think we can have things ready to go in just a few weeks.”

  “And then back to crisscrossing the Thousand Kingdoms in search of everyone,” Gerald said with resignation.

  “As long as we leave the tracking spells on until we find them, that won’t be too hard,” the dragon said gently. “Especially if some of my relatives decide to help with that as well.”

  “Not by themselves!” Gerald said hurriedly. “We don’t need to start up any stories about bloodthirsty rampaging dragon.”

  “Of course not. But if I take you, and someone else takes Erick—”

  “And Erick might be bringing some people with him, too,” Omar broke in. “And you know how fast our dragon flies. If there’s even one or two others helping us, we’ll gather everyone up in no time.”

  “I suppose so,” Gerald said.

  “This is your idea,” Omar reminded him. “You should be happier about it.”

  “I will be when we’re actually doing something,” Gerald said. “Until then, I’m going to be worrying about everything that can go wrong.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Omar said wryly.

  Gerald made a face at him. “I’m not choosing to worry. I just…am. I can’t help it.”

  “We’ll have to distract you, then.” Omar looked around the cave for something to do, but not much was on offer. With a sigh, he looked at the pile of supplies. “I don’t suppose you have a deck of cards in there?”

  “I’m not sure,” Gerald admitted. “There might be. We put most of the contents of the tower in there, minus the furniture.”

  Omar got up and began riffling through the bags and boxes. “I’ll find something to do, don’t worry.”

  “I thought this was supposed to keep me from worrying,” Gerald said with a smirk. “Not give me something else to worry about.”

  Omar rolled his eyes and then straightened up with a triumphant exclamation. He tossed a pack of cards at Gerald, who caught them, opened them, and started to shuffle.

  Before long, they had a three-way poker tournament going—with the dragon using a small spell to move its cards around—and Gerald was too busy trying to keep from losing his stake to fret about their upcoming trip to the dragonlands.

  Chapter Twelve

  THEY WOKE THE next morning to frigid temperatures but clear blue skies. “Good weather for flying,” the dragon said, sounding pleased.

  “Good weather for freezing,” Omar said darkly. Gerald elbowed him and he subsided.

  After a quick breakfast, Gerald and Omar packed everything away, bundled up, and took their places on the dragon’s back.

  As soon as they were settled, Omar brushed the snow off his boots and Gerald couldn’t help but laugh. “You look exactly like the castle cats,” Gerald explained. “They can’t stand to have snow on their paws either, and they shake it off with exactly that annoyed expression on their faces.”

  “They sound like very sensible creatures,” Omar said. He surveyed the snow-covered mountains surrounding them and added, “It still looks very pretty. I’m happy to look at it. But I’ve had my fill of experiencing it.”

  “I can’t say I blame you,” Gerald said. Then, as the dragon prepared to take off, he asked, “How far away are the dragonland
s? I didn’t see them on my map.”

  “They aren’t on the map,” the dragon replied. “There are boundary spells that keep them hidden. Historically, we haven’t had the best relations with humans. It’s best to remain apart.”

  “Um…are you sure this is a good idea, then?”

  “Oh, well, it won’t hurt to try. It’s not like anyone will try to eat you,” it added, in a tone Gerald thought was probably meant to be reassuring. “Anyway, assuming the weather holds…and we weren’t blown further off track than I think…it should be about a four-hour flight from here. East by southeast.”

  “Is it warm there?” Omar asked hopefully.

  “We’re fire-breathers. What do you think?” the dragon asked sardonically, and then it launched itself skyward without waiting for a response.

  Gerald, unprepared, gasped in surprise but he privately had to admit he was adjusting to the dragon’s vertical takeoffs. Next time maybe I’ll even open my eyes.

  “Hey,” Gerald said when they leveled out. “If the borders are magically protected and the dragonlands are hidden, how do you get captured to serve as guardians?”

  The dragon let out a puff of air and said, “We don’t all stay inside the borders. I told you we don’t tend to form partnerships or close relationships. We like our space, and when you get to be this size, you like a lot of space. That’s part of the reason I think the others will let you use the land. If this scheme works, we’ll all be able to leave without fearing someone will put a collar around our necks.”

  Gerald nodded, unable to find an appropriate response. His gaze landed once again on the band of discolored, misshapen scales that wrapped around the dragon’s neck and throat. The removal of the collar had allowed the dragon to use its own magic to speed its healing, and the wounds left by the collar were completely closed now—but the scars would always be there.

  They flew in silence for most of the morning.

  They were over a forest when the dragon decided to stop for lunch. A river ran through the woods, carving a gap in the canopy, and the dragon flew down through it to land in the clearing by the bank. The snowy mountains were leagues behind them, and the temperature had increased enough that Omar and Gerald had shed their gloves and heavy cloaks.

  “It’s not much further now,” the dragon said as the princes climbed down and stretched their legs. “But I thought you might want to put your best foot forward when we get there, rather than arriving hungry and dirty.”

  Gerald looked at himself self-consciously. Wrestling with a wolf, flying through a snowstorm, and spending two nights in a cave hadn’t exactly left him in pristine condition, and Omar wasn’t in a much better state.

  “I suspect the same is true of you,” Omar said to the dragon. “You wanted an excuse to stop and polish your scales, huh?”

  The dragon sniffed haughtily. “There’s nothing wrong with making a good impression. Now, if you’ll be so good as to unharness me, I believe I will go for a swim.”

  Gerald glanced over at the river and quickly looked away, his face reddening with the memory of the scene he’d made at the last river they’d stopped by.

  When the dragon had been unburdened and started splashing around, Omar turned to Gerald as the Andinian prince rummaged through their supplies for a suitable lunch.

  “We do want to make a good impression,” he said carefully.

  “I know,” Gerald said. “I’ll bathe after you’re done.”

  Omar nodded and let the subject drop. He stretched out on the ground in a patch of dappled sun and said, “This is close to perfect weather, I think. Warm, but not unpleasantly so. What’s the weather like in Andine, anyway? You mentioned you get snow.”

  “In the winter,” Gerald acknowledged. “It’s not like in the mountains, where there’s snow year-round. We’ve got very distinct seasons. We get, oh, three or four big snowstorms every winter, and it’s cold enough that the ponds freeze over for skating. Then in the spring, it rains for three solid weeks, but afterward, everything turns brilliantly green. It’s hot in the summer, not like in your desert, but hot enough you know about it. I probably spend half the summer fishing or swimming because it’s so much cooler by the water.”

  Omar started to ask a question and then cut himself off, but Gerald had a pretty good idea of what Omar had been about to say. “Swimming is different,” he explained. “We have swimming clothes in Andine. No one’s naked.”

  “So you swim with other people?”

  “Sometimes. If they’re around.” Gerald shrugged. “I don’t avoid them, but unless Erick’s visiting…” He shrugged again. “I don’t have many friends.”

  “Well, you’ve got at least one more now.”

  “Two,” the dragon interjected as it returned from its bath.

  Gerald smiled and ducked his head. “Next summer you two can go swimming with me, then.” He tilted his head at the dragon, considering. “I think you would fit in the pond.”

  The dragon harrumphed and Gerald grinned.

  “I’m only joking, I’m sure you’ll fit,” he said conciliatorily. He picked up a towel and started drying off the dragon’s scales, even though it was already steaming gently as the excess water evaporated. As Omar walked off with another towel and a change of clothes, Gerald gave up on his futile chore. He set the towel down and dropped to the ground, leaning against the dragon like they were back at the tower.

  “How long has it been since you were last home?” he asked the dragon, tilting his head up to meet its eyes.

  The dragon let out one of its gusty, sulfur-scented sighs. “Not all that long, by draconic reckoning. But long enough by yours.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  Gerald nodded. “Not mine, personally. But my species’. They won’t apologize, so I’ll apologize for them.”

  “Staying away from home is different for dragons,” it said gently. “It’s not…not as harsh as it would be for you.”

  As it will be, you mean, Gerald thought, his stomach clenching with the realization that, when all was said and done, no matter how it turned out, he was unlikely to find a warm reception in Andine. He stopped himself from speaking the thought aloud, but the dragon sensed his suddenly somber mood.

  “It will be good to see them,” the dragon acknowledged. “But—what is that saying you humans have? When you’re not there, you want to be there; when you get there, you want to be where you left. It will be good to see them, but it will be good to keep traveling with you as well.”

  Gerald let out a startled laugh. “Oh, Dragon. I wouldn’t have been hurt—I won’t be hurt—if you wanted to stay in your own home territory. I was just thinking about, well, my own homecoming. Whenever that ends up being.”

  The dragon nuzzled him gently. “Don’t fret before the shell cracks,” it said wisely.

  Gerald blinked at him.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, it means,” Omar said. He was clean and dressed, with his towel draped over his shoulders to catch the water still dripping from his damp hair. “So don’t worry about it now.” He nodded toward the river and added, “Go on, then, go clean up. We won’t look.”

  AN HOUR LATER, they were fast approaching the dragonlands, at least according to the dragon. Gerald couldn’t distinguish any changes in the landscape as they approached the putative border: everything was hilly and rocky, with patches of bare earth intermingling with piles of boulders and sections of sere grasses. There was no sign of other dragons.

  “Make sure you’re touching my scales with some bit of bare skin,” the dragon called over its shoulder. “Otherwise the spell won’t let you through.”

  Gerald blanched at the thought of hitting a magical barrier—or any barrier—at the speed and height the dragon was currently flying at. He let go of the harness and slapped both palms against the dragon’s back. Next to him, Omar hurriedly did the same.

  The dragon murmured something under its breath i
n a sibilant-filled language, and then a tingling, buzzing sensation spread over Gerald from head to toe. All the hair rose up on the back of his neck, but as unsettling as the sensation was, it didn’t hurt. And it passed quickly, there and gone almost before Gerald could even categorize it.

  “What was that?” Omar asked, sounding as rattled as Gerald felt.

  “The barrier spell,” the dragon said. “It didn’t hurt you, did it?”

  “No-o,” Omar said, but he drew the word out as if he wasn’t quite sure of his answer.

  “No,” Gerald agreed. “But I’m not in a hurry to go through it again.”

  Before the dragon could respond, a gout of fire erupted out of the air right above their heads. The dragon immediately stooped into a dive while Gerald and Omar threw themselves flat against its back. Another burst of flame spouted out of thin air, once again aimed at the princes. Gerald screamed as it caught his leg and the dragon whirled around and began shouting in the same hissing language it had used to move through the barrier spell.

  Three other dragons winked into visibility, all dripping flame from their jaws. All four dragons immediately began screaming in that same incomprehensible language. Gerald didn’t know what they were saying and was in too much pain to care. His leg throbbed dreadfully and even though he had slapped the flames out, singing his hands in the process, it still felt like the fire was licking at his skin. Omar pushed his hands away from the wound and upended their water pouch over the cracked and bloody skin. The water steamed and Gerald drew his breath in with a pained hiss.

  It hurt and he could think of nothing but the pain, which was getting steadily worse instead of better. He vaguely heard Omar talking, but he couldn’t focus on the words or respond in any way. “It hurts,” he tried to say, and then his eyes rolled back in his head as he fainted.

  Chapter Thirteen

  GERALD WOKE SLOWLY and with a great effort. It was a struggle to fight through the semi-conscious haze, to break through the barrier between sleep and consciousness. Why fight it? he wondered. It would have been easier to simply slip back under. But something felt wrong. It felt like he was drowning in his dreams and he fought to break free of them. The struggle seemed endless but then, in a last panicked burst, he fought his way back to full consciousness.