by N M Zoltack
Vivian grimaced. “My hope must not be strong enough, but that should only tell you that Edmund’s love for you was as fierce and precious as can be. The dragon could have killed you as well, but he did not.”
“And you do not think he will come for me here.”
“I would not have brought you to the house of my sister if I thought you were in danger.”
Tatum almost smiled. “Thank you. If not for you, I would be dead.”
“You live because of Edmund, not me.”
Tatum hugged the receptacle and nodded several times. “I will try to continue living,” she murmured, “and I know Edmund would wish for me to sleep in a real bed and not a table and that I—”
“A table?” Vivian asked dully.
The alchemist shrugged. “Not any longer.”
She hurried away.
Vivian was exhausted. As much as she wished to go and see her sister, the castle was sound, the keep intact. There was no sign of an attack she had missed, so Vivian dragged herself to her bed and slept as if she had died anyhow.
Bright sunlight pierced through her shut eyelids. Vivian rolled over and slumbered more until the sound of horses stirred her again.
Marcellus had returned perhaps. Or maybe just the Tenoch guards, but still, Vivian was awake enough now that she quickly changed her attire and fled her room. She had been so exhausted last night that she had slept in the clothes she had traveled in.
As she raced through the castle down the stairs to leave the keep, she knew what they must do, what their next course of action must be.
The dragon could and perhaps should be killed. Odium was a most hateful creature, born out of that dark and twisted emotion. But before he could be killed, there must be one more sacrifice, that of hope.
Only the guards had arrived, much to Vivian's disappointment, but thankfully, she did not have to wait much longer for Marcellus to appear on horseback. She forced herself not to rush out of the keep to greet him even though she had broken her fast while standing in the open doors to the keep while watching for his return. If he were her betrothed, perhaps she would have gone to him, but she had not even spoken with Rosalynne yet, wishing to speak to the two leaders at the same time.
Rosalynne came to stand beside her and did a double-take. “Vivian! When did you return?”
“Late last night.”
“No one told me!” The queen embraced her. “You came ahead of the others?”
“Yes. We have much to discuss, you, me, and Marcellus.”
“Did I hear my name?” Marcellus asked as he approached.
Vivian forgot herself and grabbed his wrist. “Hurry. Eat, bathe if you must…” She sniffed. “You do not smell too badly. Eat so we can talk.”
Marcellus glanced at Rosalynne. “Is she always this bossy?”
“Undoubtedly.”
The two of them shared a laugh.
Vivian nearly stomped her foot. “I might be only sixteen, but—”
“Actually, dear sister, you are seventeen now,” Rosalynne corrected. “The anniversary of your day of birth was three days previous.”
“I… lost track of the days,” Vivian murmured. “That does not matter. I am not a child. I have something of great importance to discuss with you both.”
“Then food can wait,” Marcellus said. “You—”
“We can eat while we talk,” Rosalynne said, and she waved to the nearest servant.
Vivian’s shoulders slumped. Waiting for food to be prepared and brought up would take some time, and Marcellus gave her a sympathetic look.
Soon enough, although not quite as soon as Vivian would have preferred, the trio sat in a sitting room, gathered about a table in fine chairs that made eating a bit awkward.
Vivian ignored the food and sat perched on the edge of her seat. “We cannot go after the dragon,” she announced without preamble.
The two rulers glanced at each other.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Marcellus asked. “The dragon is the only threat we have left to face.”
"Is that so?" she asked, turning to meet his gaze. "Tell me. I sailed with Vincanans to the isles to recruit warriors for your war. None from Tiapan came, but many did from Zola. I cannot recall if some came from Xalac or not, but whatever happened to those warriors? I have not seen them."
Marcellus exhaled through his nose. “We had various disagreements, and I offered them ships to return to their islands, but they left, marching northward, separately. I do not know what became of them.”
“So we might have another enemy beside the dragon,” Rosalynne murmured. “Or did they not wish to fight Tenoch? Is that why they left you?”
“They are all fiercely independent persons, and the leaders are not the most agreeable sorts. I think they do not wish for Tenoch to rule over them, but they were also fearful that Vincana would instead. That is what they objected to the most.”
“So they would fight us both, but they haven’t the numbers—”
“We are both decimated from fighting each other,” Marcellus reminded her. “And the dragon…”
“We cannot go after the dragon,” Vivian repeated firmly.
“If the dragon is attacking the castle, we cannot allow him to do as he wishes,” Rosalynne protested.
“If he attacks the castle again, then we must abandon it,” Vivian said.
“But—”
“You might seek to release the peasants just in case the dragon does come. Otherwise, an evacuation—”
“There will be no evacuation,” Rosalynne protested.
“Why do you wish for the dragon to not be killed?” Marcellus asked.
Rosalynne scowled. “In Olac, she spent some time reading texts concerning the dragons, and now, she sees goodness in the dragons when there no longer is.”
“There is no goodness in the dragon that flies yet. I know this, but you must believe me. He cannot die as of yet. Faith, Hope, and Love, the first dragons were such as these, but these dragons, they are not the same. So far, there have been two sacrifices—that of faith and love, but there must be hope—”
“Hope,” Rosalynne repeated, her voice so utterly devoid of that emotion.
“Yes,” Vivian said.
“And who will be this willing sacrifice?’ Marcellus asked.
“Mayhap the Lady of Light and Darkness,” Vivian said, lifting her chin.
“If the dragon attacks the castle, we will fight back, and we will try to slay it,” Rosalynne said.
“Marcellus, do you agree with… Do you agree?” Vivian asked.
Marcellus hesitated and then nodded. “What else can we do?”
“Then I hope the dragon does not come here,” Vivian spat out, jumping to her feet.
Rosalynne stood as well, as regal as ever. “And I hope and pray the dragon does so that the dragon can be killed. If he is not here, he will be reigning his fiery chaos elsewhere and killing those who cannot defend themselves.”
“When will you see that I am not a child?” Vivian fumed. “If you kill that dragon before there is a third sacrifice, I fear I know what will happen. The three will rise up again, just as they had before, all Hatred, Despair, and Doubt, and they will burn all of Dragoona to the ground. No people, no animals, no plants will survive. If that is what you wish, go. Seek out the dragon. Slay him, but I can only caution you to heed my warning. All is not yet lost, but soon, it could very well be.”
She stalked out of the room and punched the wall so hard that her knuckles bled. This castle was nothing more than a prison, and she refused to be a captive any longer.
61
Valkyrie Horatia Ramagi
The Valkyries thundered along when a feeling came over Horatia that the dragon was no longer in danger. They had ridden so hard and fast that the castle was in sight, the city before it not far away at all, and Horatia halted and turned about.
“Do you feel it as well?” she demanded.
“The dragon does not need us,” one called out.
“We should go back and return to the leaders,” another said.
“Had any of the leaders been slain?” Horatia asked.
No one nodded.
Horatia made a decision. “You all can go and…”
She hesitated and eyed the skies. She had been the entire ride, and she could not see Odium anywhere. Where might the dragon head? She had been certain he was near this area. Perhaps he would return.
Before she could finish with her proclamation, a rider burst out of the city, heading straight for them. Dark hair, dark blue eyes…
Horatia maneuvered her horse to block the rider. “Where are you off at such a swift pace, Vivian Rivera?”
“Horatia.” The princess was breathing heavily, and her gaze searched the skies.
“Do you seek to harm the dragon?” Horatia demanded, her hand falling to her sheathed blade.
Vivian stared hard at her and then at the other Valkyries. Slowly, she slid down from her horse and took a step toward them. “The one to kill the last dragon must be the Lady of Light and Darkness. Do you know of her? Do you know who she is?”
“I do not,” Horatia said coldly, “and I do not think—”
“Maybe one of the Valkyries,” the princess dared to say. “But none can make a move against the dragon. Not yet. There must be one more sacrifice first, that of hope.”
“Hope?” Horatia snorted. “The only hope there is is that the dragon will hopefully find a purpose for us. He will guide us to salvation. Only through the dragon and his will can Dragoona be saved.”
“And what about Dragoona being saved from his hatred?” Vivian sputtered. “Horatia, you cannot believe that all of Dragoona should burn!”
“Perhaps that is for the best. If that is what Odium desires, it shall be, and there is nothing you can do to stop him.”
“He is wounded,” Vivian said grimly, “and if—”
“How do you know he is wounded?” Horatia demanded. “Did you attack him?”
“I did not, but I did speak with him.”
“Odium would never talk to the likes of you, you deceitful little whelp!”
Vivian flared her nostrils. “You have changed, Horatia,” she said softly, “and not for the better.”
“You do not know me. Do not pretend that you do. Valkyries!” Horatia guided her horse to retreat a few paces. “Capture this pretender! She dares to blaspheme against Odium. Seize her!”
Vivian withdrew her sword, but she did not move to strike and kill Valkyries. Was she trying to return to her horse? But the princess's unwillingness to truly fight as Horatia knew Vivian was capable of meant Vivian was captured in short order.
The very notion that the Lady of Light and Darkness was a Valkyrie, that the Lady would be the one to kill the dragon… Vivian did not know that which she spoke, and her blaspheme was dangerous, very dangerous. Perhaps it would be too dangerous to allow her to continue to live.
62
Prince Marcellus Gallus
The notion of the Lady of Light and Darkness being the one to slay the last dragon intrigued Marcellus, but why did Vivian think that the Lady would be the one to do so? Because the Lord of Light and Darkness had? Where had she learned about the existence of the Lady? Were the Fates giving her this information, or had she read about it in the tomes in Olac?
Marcellus wished to seek out Vivian and talk to her about the matter, but after she stormed off, Rosalynne began to talk to him about when they might tell their people about the marriage. He had tried to eat instead of answer, but eventually, she pressed him enough that he replied that the matter of the dragon should be handled first and foremost. The queen remained adamant that she would have the dragon slain if he dared to attack the castle again, and she mentioned how her master of arms was using metal to make his harpoons and the stations upon which the weapon would pivot to attack the dragon with ease. Nothing wooden about it, although she was wondering if they should construct metal towers capable of holding the weight of the harpoon and its base, and if that were the case, should the master of arms merely work atop the towers? Or…
But then she mentioned one possible issue.
“Metal, when heated hot enough, melts,” she had murmured. “Wymond assured me that the dragon’s fire will not melt, but how can he be certain? I fear that this will not be enough, but merely having harpoons in the courtyard and even outside of the castle walls might not be enough. The wall itself and the buildings within the castle itself might inhibit our efforts.”
Marcellus had no answer for her, and she allowed him to eat in silence. He had then gone to bathe because Vivian was wrong. He did smell, and he then fell asleep promptly without meaning to.
Now, he strolled about the castle, asking everyone he came across if they had seen the princess.
Finally, he left the keep. Mayhap she was out and about somewhere.
He approached the stables and spotted Ulric nearby.
“Ulric, have you seen Vivian?” Marcellus called.
The man crossed over. “Vivian? I saw that she departed yesterday. I haven’t seen her since.”
“Departed? Where did she go?”
“She headed out to the city.”
Marcellus stalked inside the stable and glanced about. “Is her horse here?” he growled.
Ulric followed him. ‘No. Swiftfire isn’t here. I’m certain—”
“She left,” Marcellus spat out. “How could you have allowed this to happen?”
“Vivian is her own person,” Ulric said stiffly, “and you have no claim over her. She is allowed to come and go as she pleases. Perhaps you should speak with your… with the queen.”
“Why are you not with the queen?” Marcellus countered. “You are to be her personal guard, yet I find you not by her side almost as often as you are.”
“There are times when she will send me out to do certain duties.”
“And you leave her unguarded?”
“There are others who can assume my duties.”
“Why does she not merely send those guards?”
“She trusts me.”
“And she trusts them enough to keep her safe, so surely she can trust them enough to do whatever task you have been sent to do.”
“If you are so concerned about Rosalynne’s safety, why don’t you go and be by her side day and night,” Ulric growled. ‘And what of your own people? You do not even belong here.”
Marcellus inhaled deeply. The infuriating man was right. The more time Marcellus spent here in Atlan Castle, the more he wished to be far from this place. He wished he could be back in Vincana, where the sand was soft and he could be with his people once more.
Returning without his father, though… While Marcellus did not regret his actions, he also wished his hand had not been forced, but his father had proved impossible, too bloodthirsty and ambitious for his own good.
"It is not for you to say where I do and do not belong," Marcellus finally returned as he stalked out of the stable. Instead of returning to the keep, he halted just beyond the door to the stable, uncertain if he should fetch his horse and ride after her. Where might Vivian have gone? She had spoken of a sacrifice. If she sought to sacrifice herself…
He whirled back around and plowed right into Ulric.
“Move out of my way,” Marcellus said, shoving the man.
Ulric drew up straight, having planted his feet, and hardly moved at all. “You have no business touching me.”
“You do not want to be in my way,” Marcellus warned.
“Why not? What will you do to me? You are to be with one, yet you act as if they are both—”
Marcellus’s fist connected with Ulric’s mouth. “You do not know about that which you speak.”
“I think I do.” Ulric swung again. His stance was good, but anger drove him and caused him to forecast his attack. Marcellus ducked beneath the arm, slid around to the back of his foe, and landed a punch to the lower back.
Ulric slammed Marcellus’ sho
ulder with his elbow, driving it backward. The prince stumbled as the guard turned back around. The blow smarted, and Marcellus rubbed the spot before feigning with his right and hooking with his left, getting Ulric in the eye.
“What is the meaning of this?” a familiar voice cried, just as Ulric’s knuckles slammed into Marcellus’s mouth.
Unfortunately, not the voice Marcellus most wished to hear.
Marcellus worked his jaw. The guard had a nasty hook.
"I asked a question," Queen Rosalynne said, hands on her hip, her tone more than a bit testy.
“Do you know your sister has run off?” Marcellus asked.
“I did know,” the queen murmured.
“Did she tell you where she was going?”
“No, I… I only discovered after the fact that she had gone. Why?”
“You two deserve each other,” Marcellus snapped. “Do you not care about her at all?”
“Of course I do,” Rosalynne protested.
“You do not care for her enough,” Marcellus countered.
"And mayhap you do too much," Ulric said, "but then again, you do not understand her at all, so how much can you care?"
Irate, Marcellus took a step toward the man, but Rosalynne shifted to stand between them. As his betrothed clearly sided with her guard, Marcellus stormed off. Had Rosalynne not heard what Vivian had said about there needing to be a sacrifice? It would be so like the warrior princess to offer herself up for the sake of her kingdom.
There must be another way.
63
Olympia Li
From behind a pillar of the burnt courtyard, Olympia watched as Oldrich walked with Queen Rosalynne. The queen led him over to sit on a bench. From this angle, Olympia could see the queen’s face rather than her brother’s.
“Why did you fight him?” Rosalynne murmured.
“I do not care for him.”
“Why not? He is a good man.”
“Why do you think that? Or do you merely want to believe that?”
The hint of desperation in Oldrich's tone had Olympia slowly moving. There weren't any others about, and the sun shone down brightly, creating many shadows in the pavilion she walked beneath toward the other side of the courtyard.
