With a Dragon's Heart

by Marissa Farrar

  “We’ll have that conversation if it happens.”

  “I’m okay for now,” he said gently. “I promise. Let’s get to the island, and we’ll take things from there.”

  She nodded. “Okay.”

  She moved to step in beside him, clutching what remained of the water in the leaf cones to her chest, and checking where she put her feet so she wasn’t likely to stand on any of those flowers. When she’d lived in Anthoinia—what felt like a lifetime ago, but was only a matter of weeks—they’d been warned of all the dangers outside of the city walls. She’d been raised on tales of mystical creatures and magic places, and it had all felt like a fairytale to her. The grey walls of the city, with its narrow streets and filthy cobbles, had only ever given her a glimpse into this world through the marketplace. On occasions, an exotic fruit would be brought back and sold in a cart. On an even rarer occurrence, a traveler from one of the other races would pass through the city on business—though those times were rare indeed—and people would gather in groups and whisper from behind their hands, trying to catch a glimpse of this person with the different colored skin, or massive size, or pointed ears. During those times, it was as though two different worlds had collided—a fantasy world of excitement and color seeping into her mundane sepia existence.

  Dela had always believed being part of the Chosen and coming on the Passover would be the worst possible thing, especially after losing her brother, but now she couldn’t imagine ever going back to that life. Yes, this place was full of dangers, but it was also vital and alive.

  And for the first time, the thought crossed her mind that maybe Ridley hadn’t wanted to come home either. They’d never had any proof of his death, and had only been told that there had been a skirmish and Ridley had been lost, and wasn’t to be found again. Wasn’t it possible he’d simply decided this life would be better than going back to the grey walls of the city? Deserters were not treated with mercy in Anthoinia. If he decided he hadn’t wanted to come home, he wouldn’t have simply been able to walk away. He would have needed for people to think him dead to prevent the City Guards going after him, dragging him back, and punishing him in the city square by hanging. But he could be out there now, having joined the others who’d made it outside of the city walls and lived as the wild men. The thought pierced her heart. It was a fantasy, a dangerous idea. For not only did it dangle the possibility of her brother still being alive in front of her eyes, it also meant that Ridley had chosen himself over his family. Her big brother, who she’d worshipped, had allowed them to think he was dead.

  Chapter 10

  Orergon

  As they walked back through the jungle, Orergon glanced at Dela’s face. There was a tenseness around her mouth and eyes that hadn’t been there before. He hated being the cause of her worry, but there was nothing he could do to alleviate her concerns. He wished he’d kept his mouth shut the previous night, but the words had burst from his lips, and there was nothing he could do to get them back again.

  Orergon used his tracking ability to make sure they stayed on the same path they’d walked in on. He was able to see where their footfalls had crushed the foliage, or where their movement had snapped twigs higher up on bushes. It didn’t take long before he was able to smell salt on the air again. There were parts of the Vast Plains that had once belonged to the ocean, and these salt flats smelled the same way. Back home, they used scrapings from the salt flats to flavor their food, and the horses liked to lick the ground. He experienced a sudden pang of longing for his homeland. He missed the wide open spaces and riding his chestnut stallion, Corazon, with his men at his side, his braids streaming back from his face. Would he ever see the place again?

  “I can hear the ocean,” Dela said from beside him, and he glanced down at her, his heart warming. She would be his homeland now. Yes, he missed the Vast Plains, but he could live without it if she was here with him. He could more stomach that idea than having to return home without her, and he knew she had greater things ahead of her than roaming his homeland on horseback. Perhaps, if they all survived, she’d allow him to take her there, and he could show her where he lived. He’d like that.

  He tore himself from his thoughts. “We’re almost there.”

  She smiled up at him, as though trying to make up for what had happened earlier, though he didn’t blame her for her reaction. “Do you think Vehel and Warsgra have managed to build the raft?”

  He returned the smile. “Maybe Vehel managed to magic one up.”

  She laughed. “If he could do that, it would be even better if he could just magic us over to the island.”

  He joined her laughter, enjoying how it felt. It seemed to battle the darkness inside him, if only for a minute. “Now, that would be useful.”

  They broke through the line of trees, stepping onto the shingle sand beyond. Orergon had known they would come out in the exact same position they’d entered the jungle, and down near the water’s edge, they spotted Vehel and Warsgra bent over some long poles, knotting them together with some kind of vine. Both men had been exposed to the hot sun, and would be grateful of the water they carried, despite the cones only being half full.

  “Hey,” Dela called out to them, and Orergon heard the pleasure in her voice at seeing them again. “Look what we’ve got!”

  Both men straightened at her shout, hands shading eyes to see them in the bright sunlight. A grin split across Warsgra’s face, and he pushed his hair back and strode up the beach toward them. Vehel followed, a little more hesitantly.

  “Here,” Orergon said, handing the water cone to Warsgra first. They’d spilled some of it during the trek back, but there was still a significant amount in the cones. “You look like you’ll need this.”

  “Aye, thanks.”

  The big Norc took the cone and gulped water down, a little spilling from the sides of his face and into the fairly thick beard that had grown since they’d been stranded in the north. Like the Elvish, the Moerians didn’t grow a huge amount of hair on their faces, but Warsgra was looking like a true mountain man now, even though he happened to be standing on a beach.

  Vehel smiled at Dela and took one of the cones from her, drinking from it with a little more grace than Warsgra had.

  Between Orergon and Dela they had more water left, but they figured they might need it for later. Finding a V of a tree trunk where it had split in half—probably struck by lightning at some point in the past—they were able to prop up the remaining leaf cones.

  “We’ll be fishing bugs out the water before we can drink it.” Vehel wrinkled his nose.

  “That’s still better than either dying of thirst or traipsing through the jungle every time we need a drink,” Warsgra pointed out.

  Vehel looked to Orergon. “Did you see much out there?”

  Orergon shook his head. “Some strange plants and a bit of wildlife, but that’s all. Why?”

  “Something large almost stamped on me when I was gathering vines. Just something to watch out for.”

  Orergon twisted his lips. “Seems there are a lot of things to watch out for.”

  Dela was making her way down the beach, toward the raft the others had built while they’d been gone. She looked over her shoulder at them. “I thought you’d be done by now,” she said, but he noted the teasing in her voice.

  “Hey,” Vehel jogged back down the beach to join her. “We’re almost there.”

  “I know. You’ve done well.”

  “So did you, bringing the water back. We wouldn’t have been able to carry on much longer without it.”

  “Teamwork.” She smiled back.

  Warsgra stood with his hands on his hips, looking out to the island. “We’re going to need even more teamwork if we’re going to make it over there in one piece.”

  Orergon shared Warsgra’s opinion. The ocean wasn’t somewhere he’d spent any time either. The waves might look pretty and gentle lapping onto shore, but farther out there were dark patches that looked as though they
held things far more menacing.

  With all of them rehydrated, they got back to finishing the raft.

  He caught Dela’s eye as they worked, binding more vines around the points where the poles crossed, and she gave him a small smile. He was grateful to her for not saying anything to the others about what he’d told her. He knew the time would come, and he’d have to face what was happening to him—whatever that might be—but for the moment he was content to be a part of the group without feeling as though he was ostracized.

  Before long, the raft was completed. It was a good size—easily big enough to carry all four of them—and the vine had worked well to secure the poles together.

  Warsgra straightened and dusted sand from his hands. “Now we just have to hope it floats.”

  “It’ll float,” Vehel reassured them.

  Dela looked between them all. “Are we doing this now?”

  Vehel nodded. “We might as well. There’s still a good few hours of daylight left.”

  She chewed on her lower lip. “You think we’ll make it over in that time?”

  “Yes, we should do. I think it’s safer to go now, while the weather is good, and the waves aren’t too big. Who knows what conditions the morning might bring?”

  Orergon looked toward the horizon. He couldn’t see any sign of clouds, and couldn’t smell rain in the air, but Vehel was right. Tropical weather could turn at any moment, and if a bad weather front were to come in, they might be stuck here for days.

  She nodded. “Okay, let’s do this, then.”

  “We should finish the remains of the water,” Orergon suggested. “We can’t take it with us.”

  There wasn’t much left, but they fished out the number of small critters that had lost their lives in the water cones while trying to get a drink themselves, and then shared around the remains of the water. With the leaf cones drained dry, they walked back down the beach to the raft. The tide had come in since they’d started building, and now the waves lapped at the edges, already lifting the front of the raft up with every wave.

  The group stood on the water’s edge, looking out to sea, silently contemplating the distance to the island. What dangers lurked beneath those ocean waves?

  “Look.” Dela pointed out to sea. “There are some areas where the waves aren’t so big. Maybe that will be the best way to get out deeper?”

  But Vehel shook his head. “No, those are the areas where the waves are being pulled back into the ocean. It looks safer, but it’s not. It’ll pull you with it, if you’re not careful, and you won’t have any control over where you’re going. You just have to wait for it to spit you out the other end and hope you don’t drown in between.”

  Warsgra pulled a face. “Another reason for me to dislike the ocean,” he growled.

  They each took a corner of the raft, with Orergon next to Dela at the rear, and Warsgra and Vehel at the front. With Vehel knowing the most about the ocean, they were all content to allow him to take the lead.

  Orergon was a fierce warrior with his own kind, leading many men into battle with opposing tribes, riding bareback for miles across the Vast Plains, and yet, as he stepped into the ocean, one hand on his corner of the raft to hold it in place, he couldn’t ignore the churning of nerves in his gut. Was this caused by him dying? Had he lost his bravery as well? But as he glanced over at Dela, also trying to hold her side of the raft still, he knew it was because he was worried for all their safety, but for hers in particular.

  How would any of them continue if something were to happen to her?

  Chapter 11

  Dela

  As they paddled the raft farther into the ocean, it lifted and fell with the movement of the waves beneath them. The bottom half of her clothing was already soaked from where they’d pushed the raft into the water, and now the spray from the waves threatened to soak the top half. Salt water clung to her lashes and stung her eyes, but it was exhilarating as well. She’d never been on the ocean before, and the closest she’d ever got to doing something like this was paddling around the city’s pond on a summer’s day as a child.

  Now they were on the water, the island suddenly seemed a long way off. They each had poles split down the middle as paddles, and so far the raft seemed to be holding together. Warsgra’s broad, bare back was directly in front of her, and she found herself studying the movement of his muscles beneath his skin as he paddled, rather than watching how the island didn’t appear to be getting any closer.

  “Is everyone okay?” Vehel called out to them from his position on the front, left-hand corner. He was the one most at ease in this situation. Like her, both Orergon and Warsgra weren’t used to the ocean, but Vehel grew up on the coast, his race surviving through fishing.

  “Fine,” Dela called back through gritted teeth. Her arms ached already, though she’d have never admitted so to the men. Getting past the break had been rough, and a couple of times she’d thought the raft was going to get thrown back into her body by one of the waves. But the men at the front—particularly Warsgra—had managed to keep control.

  She kept paddling, digging the pole into the water. It wasn’t the most effective paddle, but it was all they had. They were making progress, even if it was slowly. When she glanced over her shoulder, the shoreline definitely appeared farther away.

  “There had better be a Seer on the island,” she said between strokes. “I’m not going to be happy if we get there and the place is deserted.”

  “Aye,” Warsgra agreed, “and we’ll still have to get back again.”

  Suddenly, something bumped the bottom of the raft.

  Dela froze, a scream trapped in her lungs.

  “Pull in your oars,” Vehel commanded.

  “What was that?” she gasped.

  She peered over the side, almost not wanting to know. Something long and as thick as a human torso swam beneath the surface, its body lazily undulating through the waves.

  Dela sucked in a breath. “By the Gods, did you see that?”

  “Sea serpent,” Vehel said. “Just stay still and it should ignore us.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Shh.”

  The four of them kept still, holding their makeshift oars in over the top of the raft. They sat in frozen silence as the raft lifted and fell with the waves, just waiting for the next bump that would signal the sea serpent’s return.

  “Has it gone?” Dela hissed.

  Vehel glanced back to her and nodded. “I think so.”

  “Should we start to paddle again?”

  She was desperate to reach the island now. Dela couldn’t bear to think about what manner of other creatures could be swimming beneath them now. The water was too dark and too deep to be able to see more than a couple of feet, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to look, anyway. She just wanted to get back onto dry land. Her arms and shoulders ached from paddling, her legs stiff from having been sitting in the same position for so long. She prayed this wasn’t all going to be for nothing, and that the Seer on the island would be able to give her advice about how to communicate with the dragon properly. She didn’t even want to think about the fact they’d also need to make their way back to the mainland at some point. Hopefully, they’d have figured something out by that point, or Vehel’s magic would be strong enough to move them across the water in a different way.

  “Let’s keep going,” Vehel called back to them.

  Dela took a deep breath then plunged her oar back into the waves. No further bumping came, and the four of them paddled in unison, the motion sweeping the raft forward. The sun beat down on their heads, drying the salt water into white tracks across their skin. She dared to look up to the island in front of them. Did it suddenly look closer? She turned to look over her shoulder at the beach they’d left behind. Yes, they’d definitely made progress. Her heart lifted with hope. They were going to make it.

  “We’re over halfway,” Vehel called. “Keep going.”

  She gritted her teeth and ignored h
er protesting muscles. If they made it through the next twenty-four hours, she was sure her body would make her pay for the exertion. From the strained expression on Orergon’s face, she knew he was feeling the same way, and though she couldn’t see the faces of Warsgra and Vehel, she could tell by the way Warsgra’s muscles were popping in his biceps and forearms that they were finding this hard work as well.

  A second bump came from beneath the raft again, this one harder, lifting her corner of the raft out of the water. This time, she wasn’t able to hold in her scream, and in her effort not to be toppled, she released her oar and gripped onto the sides of the raft instead. She realized her mistake, and grappled for the lost oar, but she was too late, and the pole slid beneath the surface of the ocean and quickly vanished from view.

  “It’s back!”

  A third knock came from underneath, but closer to Vehel’s corner this time. Her heartrate skyrocketed, and she stared in fear at the others. They pulled in their oars as they’d done before, and sat and waited, praying the sea serpent was only curious and would go away as before.

  The island was tantalizingly close now, near enough that they probably could have swum the distance, though none of them would want to be in the water with the massive serpent. Dela didn’t like to think how big the creature was. She hoped it ate vegetation rather than other sea life, but she had no idea.

  Another bump came from beneath the raft.

  “By the Gods, it’s trying to knock us off!” She held on tighter, not wanting to look over the edge, knowing she’d catch a glimpse of that muscular body winding silently through the water.

  “It’s probably only curious,” Vehel said. “I doubt it even knows we’re on here.”

  Every muscle in her body was tense. “If it keeps hitting the bottom of the raft, it’s going to find out soon enough, ’cause we’ll be in the water with it.”