The Last Dragon Charmer #3

by Laurie McKay

  He sneezed. The tiles weren’t so clean now.

  Resist or comply. Resist or comply. The curses continued to rage within him. Meanwhile, he did nothing. And the longer it went on, Caden realized something. He had a choice. He could do either. Maybe there was hope then. He still had a choice, and Rath Dunn believed Caden didn’t. Caden would fight. Somehow . . .

  Like his plan to fool Rath Dunn at the beginning of the school year, Caden chose to comply. It was better if Rath Dunn believed Caden had no choice. He stayed down. He was quiet.

  “So you have to do what you’re told now,” Rath Dunn said, his evil smile spreading. “I’ve been keeping track, you know. Ms. Jackson has been sniffing you, too. A curse like that could be really amusing for me. It’s a shame I need to feed you to a spell. But it makes things easier if you’re compliant.”

  Rath Dunn strode back and forth around the room. He prepared spell ingredients. Twice he stepped over Caden. The third time he stepped on him. “You’re in the way. Sit against the wall.”

  Caden sneezed again. That was odd; Caden never sneezed. His royal immune system and training regimen kept him healthy most times.

  He dragged himself to a sitting position as he’d been ordered. The red walls looked like blood. The shelves where Ms. Primrose had displayed her many cheap and tacky treasures instead contained books with pictures of food. There was a garment bag next to the mirror. The room felt like a Razzonian ice cave: cold, frozen, and cramped.

  That’s when he noticed someone else in the room. Ms. Primrose. She stood in the back corner near the door. Her human form was small enough that he’d missed her until now, yet her presence seemed to fill that part of the office. Her pale-blue eyes were more reptilian than he’d ever seen them, and her overly small pupils stretched to long slits. Her skin looked like scales—most of them blue. He saw but one silver speck among them. Even her hair had taken on a blue hue. The thunder he’d felt was her stomach rumbling.

  Caden pulled Jasan’s jacket more snugly around his shoulders. He hadn’t realized how cold the world could be without his enchanted coat. He saw the blood on the sleeve again. Jasan’s blood. Now all gone. He felt too stunned to do more than stare at it.

  Rath Dunn pulled the garment bag down from a hook and unzipped it. Inside there was a new outfit. He switched his burgundy sweater and deep-red pants and red boots for a fitted crimson-colored three-piece suit with polished red loafers. The vest beneath the red jacket was citrine brown with shining red stripes. He checked his reflection. “I want to look good for my return.” He spun as if to show off his suit. “What do you think?”

  Caden felt rage like he never felt before. “I hate you.”

  Rath Dunn knelt down. “No need for that. None of this is personal,” he said. He traced the scar on his face. “Oh wait, it is. Maden, Martin, and I will topple your father. And I’ll use you to finish the spell. Poetic, really. Using his sons to destroy him.”

  “My father will fight you.”

  “At least two of his sons are dead, and two more have turned against him.” He stood and grinned. “That’s the price of being relentless. If he truly loved you and your brothers, he’d do what was best for them and give up.”

  “My father never gives up.”

  Rath Dunn reconsidered. “You may be right. He is resolute if nothing else. Then I’ll feed him to my vice principal.”

  Caden’s father had no contract with the school or with Ms. Primrose. “On what grounds?”

  “Do I need any?” He adjusted his tie. “They’ve no pact with her. Isn’t that right, Ms. Primrose? I shall give you all the royals you can eat.”

  Ms. Primrose looked pudgy, not hungry. “My Blue side does enjoy indulgences. And kings and queens are tasty.”

  Caden pointed to Rath Dunn. “So are red-dressed despots.”

  “He and I do have a pact. As I do with you. I won’t eat you either even when you exasperate me. Even when my Blue self so wants to.”

  Caden was beyond frustrated. If the school was destroyed, if Asheville was leveled by the barrier between worlds being torn apart, what rules would apply? He turned to Rath Dunn. “I don’t understand. How have you not broken any rules?”

  “I’m careful. Deliberate.” He chortled. “And I’m principal. Doesn’t that uniquely qualify me? I’m allowed to leave the town. I’m allowed to give others the same permission. Nothing specifies whether leaving means Hendersonville for vegetables or the Greater Realm for domination. Of course, I’ll need my vice principal”—his tone turned savage—“to rule Razzon.”

  “The school and city will be gone. Then what will become of your contract with her?”

  “It can be rebuilt, and Ms. Primrose can stay my employee. Here and there.” Rath Dunn examined himself in the wall mirror beside his desk. “Now, boy, tell me I look the part of a returning conqueror.”

  An order. Caden tingled all over. “Achoo!”

  Rath Dunn moved back. “Don’t get my suit dirty.”

  Another order. Another sneeze.

  Rath Dunn waited.

  Best Caden pretend he still had no choice but to follow orders. He complied. With both. “You look the part,” he said. And as unprincely as it was, he wiped his nose with his sleeve. “I won’t get your suit dirty.”

  “I know,” Rath Dunn said. “Because I ordered you not to.”

  Ms. Primrose cocked her head. “Oh my,” she said. There was a trace of amusement in her tone. She peered at Caden like she could see through him. He was certain she knew he could choose to resist as easily as comply, that he had control. Maybe she could smell the curses like Ms. Jackson could? Or maybe Elderdragons just knew magic. Ms. Primrose stared at him, and a silver scale glimmered above her brow. “It’s more gentlemanly to use a handkerchief, dear.”

  It wasn’t an order, and she didn’t give away Caden’s one advantage—that Brynne had mostly fixed him. Maybe Ms. Primrose was impressed by Brynne’s curse-curse cure? On Ms. Primrose’s arm he saw another flash of silver. Her essence wasn’t taken yet; she was angry and ready to feast, but she was still both Silver and Blue Elderdragon. She still had a choice, too.

  Rath Dunn yanked his pocket square out. It was red and embroidered with an image of the Bloodwolf, the protector of the Autumnlands. “Use that. Wipe your nose. Have some dignity in your final minutes.”

  More sneezes. Caden complied.

  Then the alarm on Rath Dunn’s phone started to beep. “It’s time.”

  The wall behind Caden felt strangely warm. There were probably hidden runes painted all over it, all over the office, maybe hidden throughout the school in all the freshly painted halls and rooms.

  Rath Dunn cleared his throat. He pulled a vial from his pocket. It was Ms. Primrose’s pink-tinted and rose-scented perfume. He spoke in a booming voice. “Lightning crack, thunder quake, with the essence of the Elderkind, may the barrier between the realms finally unwind.”

  Then he dumped the perfume onto the floor.

  Lightning struck the rock face outside. As it flashed, Caden saw that he was right. Every last inch of the office walls were covered in runes. Then lightning struck inside—in the center of the office, but the bolt didn’t fade. It rolled into a spiral and hovered, like an electric tornado. From within it, Caden heard faint yelling and the sounds of battle. Someone screamed orders in Royal Razzon.

  It was a voice Caden knew.

  It was Valon.

  Valon, alive and fighting with the Elite Guard on the other side.

  And Caden guessed it was Maden and Martin and the mercenaries of Crimsen they fought against.

  “When completed, my spell will drain this quaint town.” Rath Dunn reached down and pulled Caden to his feet. “And those armies on the other side are no match for me, my allies, and my Elderdragon.” He leaned in and whispered in Caden’s ear. “I win.”

  Rath Dunn pushed Caden to his knees in front of the sizzling portal. It was narrow. And sparking. It would kill him before he ever made it to the oth
er side. “Stay there until I tell you that you can move.”

  Caden sneezed. He stayed.

  Rath Dunn checked his cell phone. “Ten seconds and it’ll be ready for you.”

  The vortex grew bigger.

  “Nine . . .”

  Inside, dark forms floated between this side of the sizzling portal and the light far on the other side, which Caden guessed connected to his homeland.

  “Eight. Get up,” Rath Dunn said.

  Caden sneezed. He got up.

  “Seven . . .”

  In the corner, Ms. Primrose watched.

  “Six . . . Five . . .”

  She seemed curious but not much more.

  “Four . . .”

  The vortex swirled and crackled. The force blew back Caden’s hair. It was growing in power, and it sounded like raging waters, roaring winds, and moving earth. Rath Dunn’s face was lit and gleeful as he watched it. He patted Caden on the shoulder. Then he gestured to the instant death that was the electric vortex. “Three . . . two . . . one,” he said. “It’s time.” He smirked at Caden. “Jump in.”

  Caden sneezed. That order he was going to resist.

  “Hurry it up, boy.”

  Caden sneezed. He resisted, but he took a step toward it. Better to play along until the last moment. He didn’t want Rath Dunn to get wise and throw Caden into it.

  Convinced the curse was working, Rath Dunn’s gaze skidded back to the portal. He seemed fascinated by it. Well, it was fascinating in a horrible, dangerous way. With Rath Dunn distracted, one good shove would end him. Caden could destroy the man who none of his brothers nor his father could. He could kill the man who splintered his family, who turned brother against brother, who started the events that led to Chadwin’s and Landon’s deaths. And maybe Jasan’s.

  Caden clenched his fist.

  But neither he nor Rath Dunn could fall into the vortex. Either of them would satisfy the curse. Both he and Rath Dunn were human and from the Greater Realm.

  The portal started to spark and draw loose objects into it. Papers. Pens. Caden’s school file. There was no more time to stall. Caden darted for the desk. Rath Dunn turned, reached for him, but missed. Caden’s training, his relentless running of the mountain, had made him faster.

  Caden skidded around the side of the massive object. He needed to hold on to something heavy. If this was like the whirlwind, it would look for a life to suck into it. He braced himself against the mahogany.

  Rath Dunn lurched for him. “I told you to—”

  But instead of moving forward, he stumbled back. His arm was pulled toward the vortex. He had no traction. Nothing to hold on to. Like Caden, he reached for the heaviest object in the room: the desk. But Rath Dunn was too far away.

  He’d be sucked into his own spell. His own machinations would kill him. A fitting end in Caden’s opinion.

  And when that happened, the spell would be completed.

  As Tito would say: crap.

  Rath Dunn fell backward. Caden grabbed the desk with one arm. He grabbed Rath Dunn by his vest with the other. With impressive strength, Rath Dunn yanked his arm free of the sizzling portal. It looked burned and black, but not damaged enough to stop him from digging his fingers into Caden’s upper arm. He looked ready to flip Caden into the vortex.

  But Caden was the only thing keeping Rath Dunn from being pulled into it. “If I go, so will you,” Caden said.

  After three failures, Caden finally had saved someone. It just happened to be the person he most wanted dead.

  Without its sacrifice, the vortex swirled in on itself, shrinking smaller and smaller, until finally it closed with a spark. The floor was scorched, the tiles charred. Loose papers covered the floor and floated down through the air. The books stood still on their shelves. Ms. Primrose watched from her corner.

  Rath Dunn fell panting against the desk. With his spell incomplete, his plan foiled, he would be out for blood. Caden let go of Rath Dunn’s vest and wriggled from his grip. He needed to get away from him, and the office wasn’t that big.

  Rath Dunn struggled to stand up. In the corner, something was off with Ms. Primrose. Something more than usual. As Caden gaped, she grew and shifted into a dragon before his eyes. Not a shadow of a dragon, but a real, scaly, full-sized toothy beast.

  The portal had closed, but Ms. Primrose’s perfume had been used, and her Silver essence started to dissipate. Without it, the parts of her that were educator, collector, and charmed by man would be gone.

  Her skin shimmered with blue scales. Wings—cramped and folded in the confines of the room—grew from her back. Silver scales dropped from her body. The massive jaws he’d often felt near his neck he now saw clearly. She was a dragon, and, for the first time, she completely looked like one.

  Caden needed to find a way for her to hold on to her Silver side. He needed to stop Rath Dunn. Even if the portal failed, Rath Dunn still controlled Ms. Primrose. In his anger, he’d feed as many as he could to her. And he’d definitely kill Caden. After all, he’d already expelled him.

  There was only one thing Caden could do that would both stop Rath Dunn and stop her. Nothing charmed Ms. Primrose more than speaking in the forgotten tongue. And other than Caden and Ms. Primrose, the words caused nothing but paralyzing agony for those who heard them. Paralyzing agony was the perfect way to stop Rath Dunn this day.

  Caden could speak it only because of his gift of speech. But he’d never spoken the ancient and powerful language without Ms. Primrose prompting him first.

  In the corner, Ms. Primrose grew larger still. She snapped her massive jaws. Soon she’d crush Caden against the wall. He tried to pull the language into his mind, but it wouldn’t come. He had to think. To concentrate. He couldn’t panic.

  Jane had found a way to survive her need to enchant when they’d accepted that she wouldn’t stop.

  Brynne had beaten the unbreakable curse when she’d accepted that it couldn’t be broken.

  Caden couldn’t speak the forgotten tongue without prompting. There was no way Ms. Primrose was going to prompt him, not now, not with half of her self, the kinder half, falling from her like silver rain. But there was someone in the room who could prompt Caden.

  He darted to the mirror. He was doubly cursed—with resistance and compliance—and he could choose whether to resist or comply. He needed to be prompted with an order, and he needed to comply with it. He peered at himself.

  Blood trickled from his temple. He was pale and his face bruised. There was dirt on his jacket collar. He resisted the urge to shake it off and looked into his reflected eyes. “Speak the forgotten tongue.”

  Resist or comply. Caden felt as if he were going to burst. He expected to sneeze. But with his order, he hiccupped. And again. And again. Comply, he told himself.

  Power filled the room.

  He turned from the mirror and to the Elderdragon crammed into the office. His tongue felt split and hurt.

  “Ms. Primrose,” Caden said in the Forgotten Language of Power.

  The dragon snapped her gaze to him. She cocked her head. Rath Dunn grabbed his head and fell to his knees.

  What could he say? He could try to convince her that Rath Dunn had broken a rule by clubbing Caden in the head. But she’d never cared about a little blood. If she’d never cared that Caden bled from his blood dagger wound, why would she care about his aching head? At most, Rath Dunn would have to file an incident report against himself.

  Silver scales showered down from her wings and body. Bit by bit, she was losing the benevolent part of herself. If it didn’t abate, all that would be left of her would be the vicious Blue Elderdragon. Maybe he could use the language to pull the less vicious Silver part of her back? The language was powerful. Caden concentrated on his words. His tongue tasted like blood. “I call to your Silver aspect.”

  The falling, shimmering scales stopped falling and hovered in the air.

  Caden considered what he was saying. It seemed impolite to speak only to part of her. Ma
ybe that was why her Blue form was so vicious. It was feared. It, too, should be treated with respect. He added, “As well as your Blue.”

  Ms. Primrose leaned toward him. Her snout was long, her teeth sharp, her scales the coldest and most beautiful of blues. The falling silver scales began to hover and twinkle like fairie fire.

  “You spoke first,” she said, and even with her dragon voice, she sounded pleased. It looked natural and easy for her to form the words. Her tongue, he noted, was forked. There was no trace of the human as whom she sometimes appeared.

  “I did,” he said. His head felt heavy. He fought to speak and to speak well. His adrenaline was waning. As was his energy, and the powerful words only drained it faster. “And I speak it because of my great respect for you, for the Blue and Silver Elderdragon. And I implore you not to lose your Silver essence.”

  Beside the desk, Rath Dunn grunted. His hands were over his ears and his red suit was wrinkled.

  Ms. Primrose shifted. Her wings were flat to her body; her head knocked against the ceiling. She seemed to be getting bigger. She cocked her head and peered down at Caden. “The spell may not be complete, but some of my aspect cannot be saved. Such deeds have consequences.”

  Caden thought of Jane’s eyes and Brynne’s hair. He thought of Jasan’s blood.

  “Can you not save some of what was lost?” he said. “The spell has been stopped.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “If I wanted.” She moved again, and her wings knocked against the shelves. Books crashed to the floor. “But I am content with but one aspect. It will make things easier.”

  “I see,” Caden said. But if she only wanted one aspect, she didn’t have to choose the more vicious one. “Then choose the Silver aspect instead and let go of the Blue.”

  As she was currently a mostly Blue Elderdragon, that statement seemed to anger her. She brought her snout close to him. Her teeth were longer than Caden’s confiscated sword and looked just as sharp. “You insult me,” she said.

  “No,” he said. “I respect both aspects of you. It’s just that your Silver side is less likely to kill those I care about. It is nothing personal against the Blue part of your being.”