Blood and Ashes

by N M Zoltack

  Belief! Bah. So many in Dragoona have forgotten their beliefs about the dragons.

  "And mayhap that is just as well," Vivian countered snarkily. "After all, the dragons who returned are not the same who left."

  And who’s fault is that? The dragon snorted, and a small bit of fire blasted from his nose. It almost singed Vivian. It had taken everything in her not to jerk back, but she did not wish to show a sign of fear before his might.

  Because whether or not she thought the dragon good and decent and just as the previous three had been, he remained a mighty force who could doom the entire world.

  “I beg you to speak with Tatum,” Vivian pleaded. “Do not merely go up to her and kill her. You will see that I speak the truth. The curse has been unfair all of these years. Why should the men—”

  Men have learned not to be quite so ambitious, the dragon roared.

  “Tell that to Antonius Gallus,” she said with a snort.

  And what of your father? he retorted.

  He had a point.

  You and your family—

  “Men are just as ambitious as women,” she said firmly.

  At this moment in time, none are nearly as ambitious as you dare to be, speaking to me as an equal, Vivian Rivera. Or should I call you Cateline Locke?

  Vivian swallowed hard. She was not shocked to realize the dragon knew so much about herself.

  “The female alchemists—”

  You act as if the dragons were the ones to curse them in the first place, the dragon said, perhaps a bit more mildly. That was not the case.

  “I only know the rumors of what had been said, and I do not pretend to know all, and—”

  I can see clear through to your heart. I can see the jealousy you harbor toward your sister.

  Vivian gritted her teeth. “Yes, at one time, I admit I—”

  Do not act as if that is a matter of the past, the dragon hissed.

  Vivian was incredulous. “I wanted the crown when I was younger, yes, but now, I don’t want to rule! It’s not—”

  I do not refer to the crown.

  “Oh.”

  So you do not deny it?

  She crossed her arms and tapped her fingers on her biceps. “You might not have cursed the female alchemists, but you have the power to remove the curse. Speak with Tatum, and you will see I speak the truth. I will not lie to you—”

  But you will lie to yourself.

  Vivian blew out a breath. “What do you want from me?”

  I want you to not interfere. I have designs for Dragoona, and none will stand in my way, most certainly not you.

  “Will the Lady of Light and Darkness?” she asked.

  The dragon brought his one wing to cross over the other, what would be a human’s shoulder, and he smacked his wing straight into the side of Vivian’s head. She went flying and landed hard, and darkness enveloped her.

  54

  Former Knight Edmund Hill

  The lack of his shield should have made Edmund feel lighter than ever, but honestly, he felt as if he could barely lift his legs to walk. His entire body felt weighed down. The guilt crushing him could kill him at any moment.

  His feet dragged him along until he finally reached the spot where he had dug a grave for Dudley. There had been a battle and delays before he had been able to dig that grave, but he had, behind the inn his brother had badly wished for.

  A pile of three rocks marked the spot, and he sank to his knees in the dirt. He did not have his sword, only wearing a simple woolen jerkin and a tunic and breeches. The lack of armor made him feel as if he wore nothing at all, but he supposed this would be his dress nowadays.

  He sank a bit deeper into the mud, and he hung his head. “I should have told her how I felt,” he muttered to himself. “When I started to develop feelings for her, I should have said something, but she seemed so happy with him! With you, Dudley. Tatum loved you, and you, you didn’t deserve her. Not that I deserve her either.”

  Edmund squeezed his eyes shut. His heart skipped a beat, and he almost choked when he tried to swallow.

  "I never even bothered to fight you for her, and I should have. You didn't keep her happy. You didn't make her happy. All you ever worried about was you. You wanted her for the money she made at Mermaid's Tears just so she could help to finance you and your wants. Did you ever stop to realize that she undercharged for her potions? That it was never about her gaining what she could? All Tatum ever did was try to create potions to make people happy."

  He punched the ground as he thought about the potion she had given him, the one they went to Stokeford Swamp to fetch an ingredient. It was perhaps on that trek that he first started to fall for the alchemist.

  The potion had originally been intended for Dudley, but she had given it to Edmund instead. That potion would have given him what his heart desired most, and he never had taken it for fear that what he desired most was hers, and he would not have his happiness before hers. She had sought to make Dudley happy, and she had made her choice.

  She had never once made any attempt to try to be with Edmund. No, she had been as loyal as could be.

  That was not true for Edmund. Far from the truth in fact. He had cursed and spurned his brother, all because of love.

  Love should not be envious. Love should be pure and free, but when love was throttled…

  His eyes squeezed shut, and a vision of Tatum came to him. He could clearly see her steely blue eyes, her brown locks, and her dear smile. She was a lovely lady, to be sure, but it was her courage, her drive, and her desire to help others even at the cost of her own health that made Edmund love her so.

  “Tatum… I failed you in so many ways. I was not there for you as I should have been. I was only ever meant to be to you as a brother, but I… All my life, I have struggled, and I have fought. I am just a humble son of shoemakers, but I knew I did not wish to cobble shoes all my life. Dudley and I both spurned our parents. They are such good persons, too, and I failed them as well. It… It was not quite ambition that made me strive toward knighthood. It was all I ever wanted. What boy does not wish to be a knight? To fight for his kingdom? To carry a shield?”

  Edmund lifted his head just enough to stare at the stones.

  "I worked and struggled and secured favor from a noble, and from there, I started to train. It was not easy, and many opposed me, thinking me unworthy, but I did whatever was asked of me, and I earned my shield. Queen Rosalynne knighted me, and she has given me assignments, many of them, but I… I will not go after the last dragon. I will not. I killed one already, and I… I'm tired, Tatum. I'm so very tired. I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want to kill. There's only one thing I wish to do."

  Edmund tilted his head back, his eyes closed as silent tears rolled down his cheeks.

  “All I want to do is to be free to love you, Tatum. I only want to love you. Nothing else. You are all I need, and I know you don’t feel the same way, and I’ll try to be there for you. I won’t be selfish anymore. Love is supposed to be… Knights are to be brave and loyal and true and strong. I used to think I was brave, but then I met you, and you are loyal to a fault. You are true, and you are stronger than I am in so many ways. You desire everything your heart desires. Whatever you need, I will be there for you. I am yours, Tatum, even if only as a brother, but I will never, ever love another, and I will never, ever stop loving you.”

  55

  Alchemist Tatum Hill

  Each morning, Tatum woke and felt as if she had not slept at all. Her body had been taxed for so long that she could barely walk.

  Still, she forced herself to stand from her table-turned-bed and reached for her potion ingredient jars. One fell over and tumbled to the ground. Thankfully, the glass did not shatter, but it did draw the attention of Saxa Busch.

  The healer approached and shook her head. “Tatum, when have you taken a day for yourself?”

  “I don’t have time to,” Tatum murmured.

  “You and Isabel Faure both,�
�� Saxa said, shaking her head. “Neither of you are going to be any help if you fall down dead. You’ve been through a lot lately. Why don’t you take a day—”

  “I’ve already slept too much lately,” Tatum mumbled. “I was supposed to be in a meeting…”

  She furrowed her brow. Should she go and see the queen? Surely, Queen Rosalynne would not have called Tatum away unless it was urgent. The two had discussed those with magic.

  Her gaze shifted to Isabel. She was tending to a young boy.

  Tatum held up a finger to Saxa and crossed over to Isabel.

  “You should be all better now,” Isabel was saying.

  “Your hands glowed!” the boy exclaimed.

  “You healed him,” the mother said with wonder. “How can I ever repay you?”

  “You do not need to pay me,” Isabel said.

  “No, no, I insist,” the mother exclaimed. “I do not have much, but…”

  She reached inside her shirt and pulled out a black rope with a gemstone pendant.

  “I do not know how valuable it is or not,” the mother continued, “but my mother had it and her mother and her mother.”

  “I do not—”

  “She would love to have it if you are certain,” Tatum interjected.

  The mother looked so grateful at Tatum and nodded for Tatum to remove it, but instead of Tatum placing it around Isabel’s neck, Tatum handed it to the boy and then picked it up so he could have the honors.

  His eyes glowed, as did Isabel’s.

  The boy squeezed Isabel hard, and once Tatum placed him back to standing, he and his mother left.

  “Peasants, nobles, you help them all,” Tatum murmured. “If they wish to repay you, let them.”

  “I have no need for this,” Isabel protested.

  “No, but she needed to repay you.”

  Isabel slowly nodded. Her face was gaunt, thin to the point of appearing skeletal.

  “The magic is requiring too much from you, isn’t it?” Tatum asked quietly.

  “I do not know what you mean,” Isabel said stiffly. “The close quarters, the peasants… They are all falling ill, especially the children. I have to help them lest they all die.”

  “And who will help you?”

  “Me? I do not need help.”

  “Hmm.”

  Tatum motioned for the healer to follow her. Saxa eyed the two of them, but Tatum smiled at the healer. It felt good to rifle through her stock, and she handed Isabel a vial and then drew back her arm before the healer could take it.

  “Once the effects wear off, you must rest,” Tatum said firmly.

  “Is this for endurance?” Isabel asked.

  Tatum nodded.

  “You do realize it might not work on me, yes? Because of the magic?”

  “I realize, and in that case, you will sleep immediately and then eat.”

  “Eat?” Isabel looked entirely baffled by the very idea.

  “When did you last eat?” Tatum asked softly.

  “I… I honestly don’t know,” the healer murmured.

  “Then eat before ingesting,” Tatum admonished. “Saxa, I leave this in your care.”

  Saxa snatched the potion. “You should both eat,” she scolded.

  “I will when I return,” Tatum promised.

  “Where are you going?” Saxa asked suspiciously. “If you need ingredients, send one of the guards.”

  “I don’t need ingredients,” Tatum said, feeling a bit more like herself than she had in an age. “I need to do something for me.”

  Saxa’s lips stretched into a slow smile. “Good. I know we all want to help and do our parts, but we cannot neglect ourselves. I might not have magic like you do, Isabel, but I can tell when a person needs water or rest or to eat more vegetables, things of those natures. I know how to close wounds, how to clean the wound, how to stitch them shut again. I know when stitching will not be enough and a hot-iron blade is required instead, and I know that you both need to rest yourselves, or else you both will end up dead.”

  Isabel eyed the potion in Saxa’s hands and shook her head. “I do not know how much longer I will live,” she uttered. “That potion should be saved for another.”

  Tatum narrowed her eyes. “Why do you say such a thing? Do you think the magic—”

  "It is not the magic," Isabel argued, and then the healer heaved a sigh. "Not directly. There was a servant with magic. He could levitate things. It helped him greatly with his duties about the castle. He was killed in his bed in the servant quarters, and I am certain he was killed for having magic."

  “Who would do such a thing?” Tatum cried.

  “People fear what they do not understand,” Isabel said grimly, “and that is why two of the dragons are now dead again. The dragons gave me this magic, and I view it as a gift, but others might think me cursed and might very well seek to kill me as well.”

  “But that mother was so thankful,” Tatum protested.

  Her thoughts turned to Agatha, the peasant woman with magic who slaughtered her family.

  “We are all what we are, and we are slaves to our desires and our natures,” Isabel said. “I have sought to be a healer my entire life. My parents died when I was a babe. A healer tried to save them, but she failed, and so she took me in as her own and raised me. She taught me all that I know, and I never wanted anything else. For the dragons to grant me magic, for me to be able to heal those who are close to death and give them the grace of life once more… This is my life’s work, and I would love to very much take your potion, Tatum, but once the effects wear off, I cannot promise I will rest. I would rather continue on.”

  “Even if that means you yourself will die?” Tatum asked.

  “I might be on borrowed time, as I said. There is a killer within the castle, do not forget.”

  “I am certain the queen is trying to find the murder,” Saxa said.

  “Oh, yes, it took Queen Rosalynne no time at all to locate her brother’s murderer, and that man from Vincana had been murdered too. Was his killer ever located?” Isabel asked, her tone devoid of emotions. “I will heal until I can heal no more. That is who I am.”

  Tatum nodded. “You must do as you must do.”

  And I must do the same.

  Tatum took her leave of them. At the end of the healer’s hall stood two guards.

  “Excuse me,” Tatum said. “Might one of you consider a reassignment? I will speak to Queen Rosalynne about making this permanent—”

  “You are the alchemist, yes?” one of the guards interrupted. He had gray hair but no wrinkles at all, appearing to be in his mid-twenties.

  She nodded.

  “You are on the queen’s council. What do you need?”

  Tatum pointed to Isabel. “She is a healer with magic. We are afraid—”

  “The killer. I will protect her,” the guard said.

  The other guard nodded, his thick brown hair flopping about with the movement. “I can handle watching over you all from here.”

  “Thank you kindly,” Tatum said. “I appreciate this more than I can say.”

  “You all have been working as hard as you can,” the gray-haired guard said. “We all must do our part.”

  Tatum nodded to them both in farewell and left the hall behind. Soon, she left the castle walls entirely and headed the familiar path to Tranquil Wolf Hotel. She was uncertain why she sought out Dudley's grave. Perhaps she needed closure, or perhaps she needed something else entirely, something words could not describe.

  As she exited the alley to the rear of the inn, Tatum drew up short. She was not the only one here.

  Edmund was there.

  As well as the last living dragon.

  56

  Former Knight Edmund Hill

  The shadow stretched over Edmund as if the sun had set. The knight looked upward to see the dragon hovering above him.

  Instead of feeling afraid, Edmund sunk even farther into the mud and muck. He held out his arms as if he could embrace the d
ragon.

  You killed Desperatio, the dragon uttered.

  So it was as Edmund thought. The dragon had come here to avenge the brother Edmund had killed.

  “Desperatio,” Edmund repeated.

  Despair. The dragon’s voice thundered in Edmund’s head.

  “Despair.” Edmund laughed so hard he almost cried. “That’s all I’ve felt in so long, even before I slew the dragon.”

  You deserve to feel all the despair in the world.

  “Honestly, you don’t have to do a thing to be at all for me to feel that way. The Fate of Love has cursed me to love one I can never have.”

  Edmund stretched his arms out even wider, to the point that his chest was all stretched out, but he did not mind the pain. If he had his way, he would feel nothing at all very soon, nothing but the oblivion of death and a most welcome death at that.

  “I have no sword, no shield, as you can plainly see,” Edmund said. “Even if I did, I would not attack you, nor will I defend myself against you. Go ahead.”

  You wish for me to kill you? the dragon asked, his voice a tone skeptical, wary, suspicious. Why would you welcome death?

  “Go ahead and kill me!” the former knight roared. “What are you waiting for?”

  If you truly long for death…

  “I do,” Edmund said eagerly. “I have nothing to live for. I love… My love is unrequited. There is no purpose to my existence. I… My life has crumbled all around me, and I have nothing. I am no one.”

  You wish to die.

  "What are you waiting for? I slew your brother. Avenge him!"

  But you wish to die. Perhaps it would be more fitting to force you to continue to live your miserable, despairing existence until you either die of old age or else you slay yourself.

  "No." Edmund grabbed one from the trio of stones and jumped to his feet even though he knew the stone would do nothing against the dragon, although did he smell blood? Was the dragon injured?

  I do not take orders, the dragon roared.