Royal Rescue

by A. Alex Logan

  “All set?” the dragon asked. “Yes? Here we go, then.”

  Gerald’s stomach dropped as the dragon took off with a jolt that sent a spasm of pain shooting through his hip. “Oxa,” he muttered. “No, I’m fine,” he added as Omar opened his mouth. “It hurts but it’s not going to kill me.”

  “Can I have my explanation now?” Natali asked. “Did he tell you what was going on?” she added to the black-clad prince. “The crippled one just said it was a long story and he’d tell me later.”

  “He’s not crippled,” Omar snapped. “And it is a long story. Luckily for you, we’ve now got plenty of time to tell it.”

  The long story got even longer as Natali repeatedly interrupted with questions and criticisms. When she finally let Omar finish, they had been flying for some time. The prince still hadn’t said a word. Gerald didn’t blame him. He didn’t think anyone would have much luck getting a word in edgewise until Natali ran out of steam, and he wasn’t interested in trying.

  The dragon’s flight was as smooth and even as ever, but there was no way for Gerald to get comfortable sitting on its back. His back and hip were cramping and throbbing, and he had the feeling they were going to keep doing so until he had a chance to lie down flat on a surface that wasn’t moving.

  “Do you want to make camp early?” Omar asked him. “You’re still awfully pale.”

  “No…we should be at the next tower soon. We should stick with the plan. As soon as the Council realizes the labyrinth towers are empty, they’ll suspect we’ll be heading for this one next. No point giving them more time to realize and set a trap.”

  “All right,” Omar said. “But I’ll handle it. You stay on the dragon’s back.”

  “Trust me, I have no interest in going anywhere.”

  “We’re picking up Padma?” Natali asked with interest. “We’ve been corresponding for a while. Oh, this should be interesting.”

  “Why do you say that?” Omar asked warily.

  “She’s a bit more, hmm, conservative, shall we say? I don’t know what you told him,” she said, nodding at the silent prince, “but he”—nodding at Gerald—“was not all that convincing. And Padma is going to need a lot of convincing.”

  “Well, the dragon will be with us this time,” Omar said. “If necessary, it can simply spell her.”

  “You can’t enchant her!” Natali protested. “That’s unethical.”

  “We don’t have time to argue about it. And dragons don’t have the same ethics as us, anyway. It’s not going to hurt her.”

  Gerald closed his eyes as they continued to argue. He was almost ready to ask the dragon if it could put a spell on Natali as well when it announced, “We’re here.”

  “If you’re so worried about it, then you can come and try to convince her while I free the guardian,” Omar said. “Let’s go.”

  Gerald cracked an eye open long enough to see the dragon had landed on a rocky spire jutting abruptly out of the landscape. The tower was perched right at the top and it looked like a long climb from the ground to the peak. This isn’t a natural rock formation, he thought, but then again, neither was the labyrinth. He trusted the dragon and Omar to take care of things, and he was too tired and sore to get involved even if he didn’t. He watched Omar and Natali slide down the dragon’s side and then he got as comfortable as he could, closed his eyes again, and prepared to wait.

  WHEN HE OPENED them again, it was dark, and Omar was shaking him gently. “Gerald? We’re making camp.”

  “What? Oh. Did you get…uh…”

  “Padma,” Omar supplied. “Yes. No trouble. Natali was exaggerating, or else Padma just felt amenable to the quest.”

  “The guardian?”

  “It was another dragon. I can’t believe you slept through that, actually! It was quite the reunion. It was a very young one, only about half the size of ours. It’s gone straight back to the dragonlands, ours was quite insistent about it getting out of danger.”

  “Did the Council—”

  “Oh, no, no,” Omar said hurriedly. “Theoretical danger. We’re all fine, everything’s fine. But how are you? Can you get down?”

  Gerald considered it. Sleeping slouched over against the dragon’s neck hadn’t done anything to ease his muscle cramps. If anything, they were worse now. He moved his bad leg experimentally and winced. “Not without some help, I think,” he said.

  It ended up being rather a lot of help, but after the dragon obligingly flattened itself as low to the ground as it could, Omar was able to get Gerald down. He promptly slid to a seated position and leaned back against the dragon with a groan.

  “What did you do to yourself?” Omar asked.

  “Tried to walk two miles with one leg that’s two inches shorter than the other.” He kneaded at his hip. “My legs, my hip, my back, everything is cramped and screaming at me. I wasn’t thinking. It’s not only my balance that’s shot. My whole body’s twisted up.”

  The dragon nudged him, and he groaned again. “And now I’m whining again on top of everything else. Sorry.”

  “You’re in pain, you get a bit of a pass on the whining,” Omar said. “But only a bit,” he added with a wink. “Look, what would help? I’ve got the tent set up if you want to go lie down; or if you’re hungry, I—well, someone—can get some dinner going.”

  “You should go for a swim,” the dragon said. “The water will help. You don’t even need to swim, really, just float in the water.”

  “I’ll keep the others away,” Omar said before Gerald could object.

  “I don’t want to move,” Gerald said.

  “It will help,” the dragon repeated.

  “I don’t think I can walk.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “I’m leaving my clothes on.”

  “No one’s asking you to take them off.”

  The dragon nudged Gerald again and he sighed. “All right, fine.” He held out a hand and Omar pulled him to his feet. With a great deal of cursing on both their parts, they managed to reach the lake. After pausing just long enough to get their boots off, Omar waded right in, dragging Gerald into the water with him.

  Gerald started to object but broke off in a sputter when Omar swept his feet out from under him. “The dragon said float,” he said sternly. “Lie back. And of course I came in with you, you think I trust you not to drown right now?”

  Any further objections died unspoken as the water took Gerald’s weight away and his cramped muscles relaxed.

  They stayed in the lake until Gerald began to shiver with cold. Omar towed him over to the shore and helped him regain his feet.

  “Can you walk now?”

  “Better than I could before,” Gerald said. “I’m still sore, though. I hope I recover before we get back to the dragonlands, or else Calin is going to kill me.”

  Omar hid a smirk. “I’ll cover for you.”

  Gerald leaned heavily on his canes and followed Omar to the tent, picking his way carefully over the uneven ground. “Is it safe to be camping out in the open like this?”

  “The dragon set a ward. And it took off all the royals’ tracking spells, of course, so the Council can’t scry us. They don’t know where we are.”

  Omar held the tent flap open and Gerald ducked through it with a wince. “Let me know when you’re done changing,” Omar said as he let the flap close between them. “I need to put on dry clothes, too.”

  The tent was illuminated with one of the dragon’s mage lights and Gerald quickly located his pack. Still shivering, he laboriously began to struggle out of his wet clothes. He winced to see his bad leg when he finally managed to wrestle the clinging fabric off. The scars were puffed up and his knee and hip were both badly swollen, even after soaking in the lake. He rubbed some of Calin’s salves into his abused muscles before wriggling into a dry pair of trousers.

  But when he tried to pull his wet shirt over his head, a stab of pain forced him to halt. His back muscles were so tight and twisted, he couldn’t phy
sically get his shirt off. “Damn it all,” he muttered. Then, taking a breath to brace himself, he raised his voice just enough to carry through the fabric of the tent. “Omar? I, uh, need a bit of help.”

  Omar immediately ducked into the tent. “What’s wrong?”

  Red-faced, Gerald gestured at his shirt. “My back’s too sore… I can’t get my shirt off.”

  “Oh. All right, that’s not a problem. You don’t have to look so embarrassed.” Omar knelt next to him and helped Gerald feed his arms through the sleeves so he could draw the shirt over his head. Gerald shuddered when Omar touched his bare skin and Omar paused. “Gerald? You’re not just embarrassed, are you—you’re frightened! But what do you think I’m going to do?”

  He sounded so hurt and bewildered that Gerald fought down his unease enough to answer. “It’s not you. It’s not. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not you. I can’t be scared of you. I’m not scared of you. It’s just, it’s just…” he trailed off. With Omar’s confused eyes still staring into his own, he tried again to put his tangled thoughts and emotions into words. “It feels vulnerable,” he finally said. “I don’t know. I’ve never been comfortable being undressed or being touched. It’s not you.”

  That was all he could say, and he kept trembling until Omar helped him into a dry shirt and he was fully clothed once more.

  “I’m sorry,” Gerald offered awkwardly, but Omar shrugged the apology away. He turned away from Gerald and quickly changed his own clothes while Gerald stared at the tent wall and wondered, not for the first time, what exactly was wrong with him.

  “All right,” Omar said into the brittle silence. “Let’s just…move on. Are you hungry? I’m sure one of our rescuees is a better cook than I am.”

  “Do you think we should cook?” Gerald said. “I mean. Even if they can’t scry for us directly, they could still be looking. Wards or no, won’t a fire make us obvious? We have cold provisions, and it’s warm enough here that we won’t need to make a fire to stay comfortable overnight.”

  Omar rubbed his nose. “I don’t know how the wards work. I guess it won’t hurt to be cautious. We’d better spread the word, then. I’ll go talk to them. Why don’t you write to Erick and Nedi? Let them know we’re on schedule.” He put a slight emphasis on the last two words and Gerald returned his wry smile.

  “I’ll bring you back something to eat,” Omar added over his shoulder as he ducked back out of the tent. “You should probably rest, anyway.”

  Gerald flopped back into his bedroll and stared up at the ceiling, his eyes stinging.

  Why am I like this?

  Chapter Nineteen

  A GASP WOKE Gerald up midway through the night. He bolted upright in a panic—did they find us? Are they attacking?—and then hissed with pain when his sore back protested the sudden movement.

  “Gerald?” Omar said sleepily. “What’s the matter?”

  “I thought I heard something…”

  Another gasp sounded, and then a moan, and another and Gerald’s face burned as he realized no one was being attacked—quite the opposite.

  “Oh!” Omar said, smothering a laugh. “Well, I guess that explains why we didn’t have any trouble persuading Padma to come along. She and Natali had been corresponding, huh? I’m not sure that’s how I would have phrased it…”

  Gerald pulled his blanket over his head. “I can’t hear you. I can’t hear them. I hear nothing. I heard nothing. La-la-la-la.”

  He drifted back to sleep with Omar’s laughter ringing in his ears.

  THE DRAGON ROUSED the five of them as soon as the sun rose. Natali and Mikkel—who still, so far as Gerald knew, hadn’t said a single word—made quick work of breaking down the camp while Omar harnessed up the dragon. Gerald waited by the supplies, felt useless, and tried not to make eye contact with either of the princesses. His efforts were in vain, however, as Padma came over to introduce herself.

  “Hello, there!” she said cheerfully. “I hope you’re feeling better this morning. Omar said you were somewhat ill.”

  “Oh, um, yes, something like that,” Gerald said, looking everywhere but at Padma. The princess was short enough that actually wasn’t all that difficult. She didn’t take up very much space. “I’m better this morning.”

  “I’m delighted to hear it. I’m Padma, by the way,” she said with a curtsy. She was wearing breeches and a tunic for traveling, but she still managed a surprisingly elegant curtsy despite the lack of skirts.

  “Gerald.” He bobbed his head in a sketchy imitation of a bow.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” Padma asked. “You’re awfully red. Do you have a fever?”

  “No, no, I’m fine. Really.” He ducked away as Padma reached out a hand to feel his forehead, causing him to lose his balance, trip over a pack, and land heavily on the ground.

  “Oh! I’m so sorry. Are you all right? Do you need a hand?”

  “No!” Gerald snapped when Padma tried to help him up. “I don’t—don’t touch me. Just…just leave me alone. I’m fine.”

  He levered himself up with his canes, bit back a gasp of pain as his back protested, ignored the surprised hurt on Padma’s face, and moved away as quickly as he was able—not very, he noted bitterly—to the relative safety of the dragon. It lowered its head to nuzzle Gerald and even that gentle touch was enough to knock him off balance again. “I hate these damn canes,” he said into the dragon’s neck. “I hate my damn leg.”

  He cut himself off there before he let all his frustrations bubble to the surface and turn into a full-on rant.

  “You humans,” the dragon sighed, “are so fragile. You are so easy to break and so hard to put back together.”

  “He’s not broken,” Omar snapped. With his face pressed against the dragon’s scales, Gerald hadn’t seen or heard him approach. “You’re not broken. And you’re not helping,” he told the dragon.

  “I only meant—” the dragon started, sounding abashed.

  Omar cut it off. “It doesn’t matter.” Then, looking equally abashed, he rubbed his nose and apologized. “Sorry. Something in the air this morning. Everyone’s snappish. Let’s just get going. Gerald? Do you need a hand up?”

  He wanted to say No. Firmly. Like he had to Padma. No help, no hands, no human contact. But his back still hurt and Omar wasn’t Padma and so he nodded wordlessly and let Omar boost him up the dragon’s side.

  Natali, Padma, and Mikkel climbed up much more easily. The princesses watched him struggle into place—Natali with an uncomfortable combination of disgust and fascination, Padma still looking hurt by his earlier outburst. The prince was staring vaguely off into the distance. He still hadn’t spoken. Gerald was starting to wonder if he could.

  “Did you hear back from Nedi or Erick?” Omar asked once they were airborne.

  Gerald shook his head.

  Omar frowned. “I hope everything’s all right.”

  “I’m sure we would have heard if it wasn’t. It was late when I wrote to them, and there was nothing urgent in my message. They’ll write back when they have time.” A sudden thought struck Gerald then and he smirked.

  “What?”

  “Just—aren’t I supposed to be the worried one?”

  Omar made a warding gesture. “Oh no! It’s rubbing off on me.” But he was grinning as he said it.

  “I’m glad someone’s in a good mood,” Padma grumbled behind them.

  Gerald reddened and turned around to face her, his back protesting the movement. “I’m sorry about before,” he said. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

  She brightened. “Oh. Well, thank you. I was actually directing that comment at Natali, though.”

  Natali scowled at her and Gerald frowned and looked at Omar. “When you said earlier that something was in the air—do you think that was true? I mean…could the Council be doing something? Trying to get us to fight with each other?”

  He shrugged helplessly. “I’m not a magician. That sounds like something you could do
with a spell, all right, but…wouldn’t they have to find us to cast one on us?”

  “Dragon?”

  “The spell would have to be targeted,” it confirmed. “But it could have been targeted on the towers. Any would-be rescuer would activate it, or perhaps it would only be activated in certain conditions, a nontraditional rescue effort…or it could have been targeted on an item one of our royals brought with them.”

  “Can you sense any spells?”

  “This is ridiculous,” Natali broke in. “We’ve been flying all over the continent, we slept in tents, we had a cold dinner and a colder breakfast, why wouldn’t we all be a little touchy?”

  “I would think you, at least, would be in a good mood this morning,” Omar said with a meaningful glance between the two princesses. “You sounded happy enough last night.” Padma blushed and covered her face while Natali glared bloody murder at him.

  “Omar!” Gerald snapped, his face nearly as red as Padma’s.

  “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “But look! I wouldn’t usually say something like that! Dragon, is there a spell here?”

  “Not one I can sense,” it said. “The princess may have the right of it. In which case… I expect you all to correct your behavior.”

  No one was inclined to argue with the dragon, and they subsided into silence.

  IT WAS MIDDAY by the time they reached the next tower, and the general mood had improved as the sun rose higher. Mikkel still hadn’t spoken, but Omar quietly told Gerald he could; they had spoken at his tower the day before. “He’s just shy, I think. We’re a crowd, for him.”

  Gerald, used to not fitting in with a group, wanted to say something to reassure Mikkel, especially when Natali began making snide comments about his silence—comments that were hardly likely to get him to speak. But he was afraid of saying the wrong thing and the persistent ache in his back, hip, and knee made it hard to concentrate. I can’t even make myself comfortable, let alone Mikkel.