So try as they might, the Nain could not get him to stay in the cave.
Finally, when it became clear that Ganrax's persistence would outlast their own, the Nain consulted with each other, and made a decision that started a war.
They returned to the mouth of the cave, playing chase and tag and other games with the wyrmling. Ganrax was excited, and happily took part in those games. Then, as a "reward" for winning the last of his games, the Nain took a handful of kiran berries and tossed them down the tunnel past the mouth of the cave. The baby dragon scampered after them, and while he was retrieving his prize, the Nain rolled an immense boulder over the opening.
Trapping him inside.
Then they went home.
I do not know if they could hear the bleating of the little dragon, the scratching at the rock walls that had been built to be a fortress, the cries and the wailing, as they walked away. It's hard to imagine that they could not, for the earth itself shook with them. Trapped alone, in the darkness of the tunnel, the dragon screamed and called and begged until the ground wept tears of moisture all around him.
Finally, when he was exhausted, the dragon fell silent, and waited, knowing in his heart that the Nain would change their minds and come back for him. He waited and waited and waited, as you would wait for the sun to come up if dawn did not break when you expected it to. But the only thing that came was silence.
And it has never left.
I do not know what happened to those three Nain explorers—whether they died on the way back to Northland or not. The Exodus took much longer than any of the Nain leaders had planned, and as a result, many years, centuries even, had passed before the population finally arrived in their new home. And when they did, none of the three who had built the lair were with them.
So at last when the Nain came looking for the dragon they had left behind, the guardian of their history, the keeper of their knowledge, instead of a joyful reunion they were greeted not with the wisdom they had remembered, but with the acid and fiery breath of scarnag, a scourge who now hated them. With each passing day the hatred has grown, Nain, until it fills the entire cave. It overflows.
That's what betrayal does.
Especially betrayal of a Great Truth.
Especially when the thing used to accomplish that betrayal is a token of love.
Like kiran berries.
So the Nain lost their history. And their honor. And their friend. They may not even know why.
The dragon lost more.
28
The Report
THAT'S A VERY SAD TALE," SAID THE KING WHEN THE LAST WORDS of it had died away. "And a very important piece of magic for the book we will write someday. Thank you, Ven."
"My pleasure, Your Majesty," said Ven. His nervousness was making his hands and feet twitch. "I'm sorry I can't take more time to tell the whole tale in detail of what happened, but I have something urgent I must attend to. If I could just hit the high points, however—"
"Hit away," said the king, smiling.
"Right." Ven took out the two dragon books. "I think you should keep these in that secret place in Castle Elysian where you have other pieces of the magic puzzle stored, sire. This one, with the writing, was a gift, so I would like to keep it for now, but this other—the one that's sealed in the gold-lined box—I think that's something you should definitely have under great protection."
"I agree. I will take it back with me."
"It's only on loan," Ven added. "One day it will need to go back."
"I understand."
Next Ven gave him the wooden box Alvarran had given him and told him the story of how it had been presented to him.
"I guess it's the sign that the puzzle you gave me is complete," he said when he had finished the story. "The dragon got what he wanted. The Nain got what they wanted. The Lirin got what they wanted. Hopefully this is what you really wanted. Alvarran may be 'the Intolerant' and 'the Unfair,' but I don't think he can add 'the Untrustworthy' to his long list of names."
The smile left the king's face, replaced by a look of wonder and nervousness. He broke the seal on the box with great care and opened it.
Resting in the middle of the blue velvet lining was a plain silver ring.
A smile warmer than the sun returned to the king's face, and his blue eyes glowed even brighter.
"Thank you, Ven," he said after a moment. "Thank you."
Ven felt relief wash over him. "So is that what you wanted?" "No, but it's a good down payment on it."
Ven's curiosity shot through him like he had been hit by lightning. "If that's not what you wanted, after all that, what is? Please tell me—I won't tell anyone."
"You saw her," said King Vandemere. "She's the one that gave you this." He held up the box.
"That beautiful Lirin girl? Who is she?"
"Elspeth," the king said. His face went red. "Alvarran's daughter. The Lirinved princess. She and I met when we were very young. I was about your age, and I was wandering the world, learning as much as I could about the people I now rule."
"You told me about that," Ven said. "You went in disguise, so that you could look for the magic hiding in the world without anyone knowing it was you."
"Yes. In the course of my travels, I met a young Lirindarc woman who was wandering the world as well. We, er, fell in love, each believing the other to be nothing more than a young man or woman of common birth. Finally, when we admitted who we were to each other, she invited me home to meet her father, so that I could ask for her hand. But Alvarran would not hear of it. He forbade Elspeth from seeing me, even after he learned who I was. He feared that I would take her away from the Enchanted Forest, and he would never see his daughter again. But even though you can keep two young people apart, you can't change how they feel about each other—even if you are a king. We have waited for more than five years for Alvarran to change his mind."
"So that's what you meant when you said you would call Alvarran 'sire'," Ven said excitedly. "You didn't mean you wanted to give up your throne to the Lirindarc king—"
"Er—no. That wouldn't be prudent."
"You meant you would be his son-in-law, right? Isn't sire another word for father?"
"Indeed," said the king, smiling.
"And Alvarran has finally agreed to the marriage?"
"So it would seem. Apparently so has Elspeth—that's why Alvarran told you he could consider granting the request, but that he did not have the power to do so alone. Elspeth would have had to say yes as well."
Ven sighed. "How I wish I was going to have a chance to talk to you more before I go," he said. "I'd love to tell you more about the dragon, and hear more about the ring, and your engagement."
"Next time, perhaps. In the meantime, tomorrow you can see the surprise I had made for you. Oliver Snodgrass should have brought it in by now."
Ven's hair almost blew off his head.
"Oliver brought it with him? Did it come from far away?"
"Very," said the king. "Tomorrow the suspense will be over, and I will give it to you."
"Thank you, sire." Ven scratched the wildfire in his scalp without even knowing he was doing it. Finally he handed the king the small sack of kiran berry jewels.
"I'm going to keep one of these, just to remember the dragon by," he said, tucking it into his pocket along with the jack-rule and the Black Ivory sleeve and buttoning it carefully. "But you can have the other two for your collection. That story is in my journal as well."
"Thank you for everything, Ven," said King Vandemere. "Come and see me tomorrow, will you? I think it's safe for you to come back to the castle now."
"If I can," said Ven, standing up to go. "I'll try—but I have something very important to do first."
"Have a safe trip to town," said the king. "And remember to keep your head down still. Just to be safe."
"I will," Ven promised. "Now I have to run a race against time—and I'm not liking my odds."
29
The Race Aga
inst Time
THE RIDE TO THE ABANDONED PIER WAS SMOOTH, AND ALL THREE of the girls fell asleep on the way. Ven was too excited and too nervous to sleep, so he wrote more of his letter home and put it inside his journal, so that he could finish it and post it if and when Amariel was all right.
The sky was turning gray, almost a light blue, when they finally pulled up to the abandoned pier.
"Wait here," Ven said to Char as he opened the gate of the wagon.
"You sure you don't need help?"
"I'll shout if I do. But this might be ugly—and embarrassing—so I want to give her some privacy." Char nodded and leaned back against the wagon side.
Ven helped the merrow down from the wagon bed, then led her down the pier to its end. He pulled the cap from his pocket, then held it out to her.
At first Amariel just looked at him. Then, as the first ray of sun crested the horizon, lighting the rooftops of Kingston, she looked down at the cap. The same rosy color that had appeared a second before in the ray of sun caught in her cheeks. Her eyes opened wide, then took on a sparkle. She smiled, then looked at Ven.
"My cap! Where did you find it?"
Ven thought about avoiding the question, but decided he had learned enough about keeping secrets.
"Clemency had it," he said. His words began to tumble out of his mouth as the expression on her face started to change. "She didn't know she had it and she didn't know that you were a merrow and she didn't know what it would do and she didn't mean to hurt you and she's really sorry and—"
Amariel's face went black with anger. She seized the cap, put it resolutely on her head, then jumped off the pier into the water in the middle of Ven's sentence.
And disappeared.
At first, like before, there was no sign of her at all. Then, also like before, the bubbles began to roil, the water began to turn colors, ending in gold. The dress Mrs. Snodgrass had given her floated to the surface, spinning helplessly in the bubbles until the tide pulled it under the dock.
Finally the merrow's head popped above the surface.
There were gills in her neck, and webbing between her fingers.
And, even though Ven could not see it, by the way she was moving, he knew she was no longer without her tail.
"You look wonderful!" he called to the merrow. "How are you feeling?"
Amariel glared at him. "Wonderful," she said. "Just wonderful."
Ven sighed in relief. "I'm so glad," he said.
"I'm being sarcastic," Amariel said. "I feel like a fish who's been out of water for a very long time. I'm all dry."
"Is everything working all right down below?"
The merrow's eyes went wide in shock. "That's a very personal question," she said. "How about you? Is everything working all right down below on you?"
"I apologize for the phrasing," Ven said, delighted to see her vigor had returned. "I just want to know if your tail is back in working order."
"It seems to be," said the merrow, swimming around a little.
"Good."
"So where was it?"
"What?"
"Where was my cap?" the merrow shouted.
"Clemency had it."
"So you said. Where did she keep it?"
"Oh. In her pocket, in a handkerchief."
"Ugh," said the merrow. "That's disgusting. I'm going to have to get it cleaned now. Yuck."
"I'm really sorry about everything that happened," Ven began. "I tried—"
The merrow swam backward, her arms paddling wildly. Her eyes had recovered the fire they normally held, but it was an angry fire. Ven could see beyond it there was a good deal of hurt as well.
"Do you see now?" she spat. "Do you see why my mom, and all the other merrow mothers, insist that we stay away from humans? They warn us to avoid them, not to trust them—do you see why?"
"You have every right to be angry, Amariel—"
"Oh, well, thank you," the merrow said bitterly. "Do you think so, Ven? You told me you would watch out for me, that you would make certain nothing bad happened to me—and I even believe you tried. But even with all that protection, what happened? Was I safe?"
"No," Ven admitted. "I'm so sorry."
"Well, I guess you taught me one thing," she went on. "I guess my mom was right. She would probably appreciate hearing me say that, since I almost never do. Thank goodness I survived. I guess I can at least be grateful for that."
"They didn't mean to hurt you, Amariel. I know that's not much comfort—"
Ven's words were drowned in a splash of cold saltwater from her tail.
"Don't you dare make excuses for them," the merrow said. "It was in her pocket—she must not have looked very hard. And don't you dare apologize. I made my own decision to trust you, to believe what you said. I didn't have to give you my cap, but I did—and I knew the risk I was taking. I'm just sorry to find out that the horror stories they tell about humans are true—even the nice ones. Even the friends of your friends."
"What can I do to make this up to you?" Ven asked desperately. Amariel was floating farther and farther away from the dock, looking like she was preparing to dive.
The merrow paused in the waves. She took a deep breath, as if willing herself to calm down.
"There's nothing to do," she said. She sounded a little less angry, and more sensible. "There's no need. I guess everything we live through in life teaches us something, Ven—everything we survive, at least. This is what I learned: that even though there are nice humans, and Nain and Gwadd and whatever, people who live on land and people who live in water cannot really be friends, except from a distance. And even then, the risk may be too great. The dry world is an interesting place, but it's not worth risking my life for again. I will never set foot on land again, not ever—because I never again want to have feet."
"I understand completely," Ven said. "I don't blame you a bit."
"Good." Finally, for the first time since she had returned to the water, the merrow smiled slightly, though she kept her lips tightly closed. "Well, thank you for the adventure, I guess. I'm going to miss you."
"What are you going to do now?" Ven asked. His throat felt like it was closing.
"Are you kidding? I'm going home. I've been away from home, from my family, ever since I found you sinking during the shipwreck. I haven't seen my mom in so many turns of the moon I've lost count. Goodbye, Ven. I'm glad you lived, and I'm glad I met you, I guess. Thank you for showing me the dry world—even if it almost killed me. I'll never forget you—don't forget me either, or you will regret it." She chuckled as the last words came out of her mouth. "But then, I don't think a Nain ever forgets the first merrow he meets. It just would be wrong."
Ven fought back tears. "Please stay around a little longer," he said. "You just got your tail back, and you might not be up to your normal strength. You don't have to go home right away—you can stay in the shallows where you've been since you got here. Don't go out to the open sea yet. Wait until you're feeling better."
"I feel better than I have in such a long time," Amariel said. "I can't explain this to a land-liver, but I just feel the need to swim, swim hard and long. It will be good for me to get back to the depths, to get away from the land and return to the wonders of the sea. I'm sorry you'll never see them yourself, but I've told you enough stories about them to last you a long time."
"All my life," Ven said. The tears were winning, and he brushed them away roughly with the back of his hand. "I'll remember them—and you—all my life."
"I know," Amariel said. "I won't forget you either. Well, goodbye, Ven—take care of yourself. And stay away from humans."
"I can't do that," Ven said. "My very best friend is a human. Even if he disappoints me, or I disappoint him, we trust each other. We forgive and make amends. If there's anything I learned because of all this, it's that there's no point in living without trust. Without it, we're really just alone, no matter how many people we share the world, or the sea, with."
The merrow b
linked.
"Well, I suppose there is something to that," she said. "Goodbye, Ven."
"Amariel!" he called as she prepared to dive. "Wait a moment longer. Please!"
She sighed. "What now? The tide is beginning to turn, Ven."
"I want to go with you."
The merrow blinked again. "What?"
"I'm going with you. Where is that fisherman you said could cut gills in my neck?"
"Asa? He lives in the village to the south," she replied. "But you don't need to do that, Ven. Haven't you learned anything from all this?"
"Yes. I've learned that you are very important to me, even more than I realized. You trusted me even though you were afraid." The urge to cry had gone, driven away by the burning itch of curiosity. "I'm a little afraid of the gill cutting thing, but I trust you. I have always wanted to see the sights you told me about when you were keeping me awake, keeping me from drowning while I was floating on that piece of wreckage. I want to see the Summer Festival, and the Sea King and Queen—after all, I'm supposed to be in the company of monarchs all my life. I want to see the hippocampus races, and the underwater city of Tartechor, and the sea dragons you told me about. I want to see the tallest underwater mountains, and the deepest trenches where the fish carry their own lights, and everything else in every tale you ever told me. But even if I can't see those things, I still want to go with you."
He thought back to what Scarnag had said about Black Ivory.
That is one of the things in all the world that can mask the vibrations that something, or someone, gives off in the process of being alive. It can hide something's true name, making it invisible even to those beings who can see things that are hidden.
What are some of the others?
The only one I can think of, the only one mentioned in the books, is the sea.
"Maybe that's why Madame Sharra said she could only see my footprints for a short distance into the future," Ven said. "Maybe this is where my path is supposed to lead me now—into the sea. It certainly will be a good place to hide from the Thief Queen, and anyone else who is chasing me." The merrow stared at him, confused. "Never mind—I'll tell you about it later. Can you—ocean dwellers, I mean—talk under water?"
The Dragon's Lair Page 23
