Legacy of the Curse

by Deborah Grace White

  “So that your absence won’t create a ‘crisis’, as you called it?” Elddreki gave a slight chuckle, as though he found Jocelyn’s application of the word humorous.

  “I wonder if he’ll tell them that I’m on a quest with a dragon,” mused Jocelyn, a hint of humor in her own voice. “Or if he’ll just make up a diplomatic excuse. The mountain people would know my disappearance was mysterious, but I can’t imagine them carrying any tales to King Malcolm.” She grimaced. “I don’t think my poor maid will recover quickly, though. She was terrified enough of the mountains before I vanished in the night, let alone the state the poor thing must be in now.”

  Elddreki shook his head. “Every word you say is fascinating, daughter of kings,” he said wonderingly.

  Jocelyn looked up quickly. “Do you have any more ideas as to what it is that makes my words so strange?”

  For a moment Elddreki looked confused, then his expression cleared. “Ah, you are referring to the magic in your words. No, no, I didn’t mean that. I meant the words themselves. It has been too long since I spent time with humans. Everything you say gives birth to more questions in my mind. Why would your father make up an excuse instead of telling the Valorians that you are with me? Why would your maid be afraid of the mountains, so far from the Dragon Realm?”

  He shook his head. “But I won’t ask you for answers, because no doubt your replies would just create more questions. As to your magic, I don’t have any answers to give you.” He smiled. “And you seemed surprised when I said that humans are in a hurry! I have been considering the question for less than two days. Did you think I would have reached a conclusion so quickly?”

  “No, of course not,” said Jocelyn. She frowned. “You’re calling it magic, though. Are you sure that’s what it is?”

  “Very sure,” said Elddreki placidly. “There can be no question. You have some kind of magical property about you.”

  Jocelyn blinked. If only Eamon was here to hear the certainty in the dragon’s voice. “But I thought only dragons had magic,” she said eventually.

  “That’s right,” mused Elddreki. “Which is what makes you so fascinating. It is certainly dragon magic that hangs about you. But no.” He frowned, as if in concentration. “It doesn’t hang about you exactly. It emanates from you.” He shook his head slightly. “Such a thing shouldn’t be possible. I believe it to be unprecedented. But it must be dragon magic. What else could it be? Besides, it is familiar. So familiar in fact, that…” He trailed off, apparently not inclined to voice the rest of his thoughts.

  “You are sure this is your first visit to the mountains?” he asked at last. “I cannot imagine how you could possibly have done so without me being aware of it, but you haven’t entered the Dragon Realm, have you?”

  Jocelyn shook her head. “I’d never even been to the mountains before. I certainly haven’t been to the Dragon Realm.”

  “No,” mused Elddreki. “I knew you could not have. It has hardly ever occurred, after all, with any human. Only once in my lifetime.” He stared thoughtfully at Jocelyn. “I wonder…”

  Jocelyn fidgeted nervously as he once again trailed off.

  “I will think on it,” said Elddreki placidly. “But now, young princess—”

  Jocelyn cleared her throat involuntarily, and Elddreki looked at her, surprised. “Is something amiss, daughter of kings?”

  “Oh,” she said, flustered. “Sorry. It’s just—you can call me by my name if you like. It might be easier.”

  For a moment she was afraid that the dragon would be offended, but Elddreki took the request in his stride.

  “Very well, if you prefer it. Jocelyn.” He seemed to roll the name around inside his mouth. “I like its sound.”

  “Thank you,” said Jocelyn politely, hiding her relief. She didn’t think she could take days or even weeks of being called “daughter of kings” every time she exchanged speech with her sole companion.

  “As I was saying,” Elddreki continued, stretching out his wings, “the morning is wearing away, and we should continue if we hope to cross the river before noon.”

  “So we are going into Valoria, then?” asked Jocelyn quickly. Elddreki had begun to climb down the rocks. He moved at a pace that must have been excruciatingly slow for him, but Jocelyn still had to scramble to keep up.

  “Of course,” said Elddreki, turning to crane his neck back in her direction. “Did I not say so?”

  Jocelyn shook her head, her eyes on her feet as she navigated a steep portion of the slope.

  “Actually,” she said apologetically, “you haven’t told me anything about where we’re going or what we’re doing. If I’m honest, I’m having a hard time imagining what it is that my father—or me, now—could help you with that you couldn’t do much more effectively yourself.”

  “I have clearly been distracted indeed,” said Elddreki. “Your fascinating magic has occupied my thoughts too completely.” He spread his wings for a moment, balancing himself. “You are limited of course, as a human, but I think you could be of great assistance in my search.”

  “Your search for what?” Jocelyn asked.

  Elddreki’s eyes seemed to light up. “Dragons.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Dragons?” Jocelyn repeated, startled. “You think there might be dragons other than the ones in the Dragon Realm?”

  “That’s right.” Elddreki leaped nimbly from one rock to another. “I have long wondered whether there might be other dragons within the land you call Valoria. We do not have contact with any other dragons, but there were once more, many centuries ago.”

  “What happened to them?” Jocelyn asked.

  “That’s what I would like to ascertain.”

  “But how can I help with that?” demanded Jocelyn. “Surely another dragon would be a better companion on your search.”

  “It was not another dragon who made the offer to help me,” said Elddreki, a hint of sternness in his voice. “It was you.”

  Jocelyn opened her mouth but closed it again. There was no use arguing. It was clear that to Elddreki, a promise made by her father was a promise made by her.

  “Besides,” Elddreki continued. “None of my dragon companions have any interest in accompanying me. They are not willing to leave the mountains.”

  Jocelyn nodded. She was already aware from her father’s stories that with the exception of Elddreki, who had twice left the mountains to come to her father’s aid, no dragon had left the Dragon Realm in centuries.

  “Why Valoria?” she asked.

  She looked up at the dragon as she spoke, her attention momentarily diverted from the shaley slope beneath her. Her feet slipped alarmingly, and she only managed to avoid tumbling unceremoniously down by reaching out a hand and grasping a rocky outcrop nearby. She winced at the sting on her hand where the sharp rocks slashed at her skin.

  “Hm?” Elddreki had been looking behind them, but at her question he returned his attention to Jocelyn. If he had noticed her near disaster, he gave no sign of it.

  “Why Valoria?” he repeated. “I have heard of a place across the river, not far from here, that the local humans refer to as ‘Dragoncave’. I wondered if dragons may have had some history with the place, long ago, to create such an association.”

  Jocelyn frowned, but kept her eyes on the slope this time. “If it’s not far from here, wouldn’t any history with dragons be with your dragons?”

  Elddreki shook his reptilian head. “I do not think so. My colony has no history whatsoever with Valoria. These mountains are our home—they have always been our home. And the friendship that has stood for generations between our kind and the Kyonan royal family has solidified our connection to the land. We do not have much interest in other places, or the doings of other humans. But long ago, many generations beyond any history you know, some of our kind left Vasilisa, our Dragon Nest, and never returned.”

  “Why did they leave?” asked Jocelyn curiously.

  “There was a rift,�
� said Elddreki. “We do not speak of it.”

  Jocelyn chanced a glance up at the mighty beast. His expression remained placid, but somehow she knew with absolute certainty that the topic was closed.

  “So,” she said instead, “you think that those other dragons might have spent time at this Dragoncave, and that it became known by that name as a result?”

  “It is possible,” said Elddreki, inclining his head. “It is perhaps optimistic to hope for a clue within the cave as to their eventual destination, but it seems like a sensible place to start. Which is where I hope you will assist me. I have reason to believe that I cannot enter the cave, but I hope that you can.”

  “Me?” asked Jocelyn, surprised and a little bit alarmed at the idea of being sent somewhere a dragon couldn’t go. “Surely I can’t do anything that’s not possible for you. Why do you think you can’t enter?”

  “I’m too big.”

  Jocelyn blinked at the unexpectedly simple reply.

  “Too big?”

  “Yes,” said Elddreki conversationally. “I am the smallest dragon in my colony, but you have surely noticed that relative to humans I am large.”

  Jocelyn craned her neck back to take in Elddreki’s full girth as he moved fluidly from rock to rock, his wings spread for balance. From one tip to the other the wingspan was about twice the size of the building she had slept in that fateful night in Montego.

  “Yes. I had noticed.”

  “We can fold ourselves into smaller spaces than you might imagine. But there are limits.”

  “So any human would be able to help you,” said Jocelyn, trying not to feel deflated by the realization. “And yet you waited twenty years for my father to be ready.”

  “You say that as though it’s a long time to wait,” chuckled Elddreki. “I had already been interested to explore the matter for decades before I met your father. What was twenty more years? I am not in a hurry.”

  “Evidently,” muttered Jocelyn, as she glanced up to see Elddreki seated in a relaxed posture on a nearby rock, watching her struggle down the last of the slope. In order to move at a pace with which she could keep up, the dragon spent more than half the time sitting immobile, waiting.

  But there was no sign of impatience or frustration in the fluid motion with which he descended to stand beside her on the level ground. The river stretched before them, looking wider from up close than it had from the height of the mountains.

  “So how far away is this Dragoncave?” asked Jocelyn. “Will we go there today?”

  “I think as the man travels, one day will not be sufficient to reach it,” said Elddreki placidly. “Perhaps tomorrow. Depending on how long it takes you to swim across the river.”

  “Swim?” repeated Jocelyn nervously. “You want me to swim across?”

  Elddreki looked surprised. “What a strange question. I hadn’t thought about whether I want you to swim.”

  “I mean,” corrected Jocelyn hastily, “do you expect me to swim?”

  “Oh,” said Elddreki, his expression clearing. “Yes, of course. Did you expect something different?”

  “Well…” Jocelyn hesitated.

  She knew that had she continued with her original entourage, they would have followed the track due east from Montego, and crossed the border into Valoria by means of a small but well-maintained road. One that included a bridge across the river. But the point where she and Elddreki now stood was significantly further north than that road, and she could see neither bridge nor ford in either direction.

  “It’s just that…I’m not a very strong swimmer,” she finally admitted. “And the river is wide.”

  “Are you saying that it might take you a long time to get across?” asked Elddreki, his voice reassuring. “Don’t let that concern you on my account. It makes no difference to me whether we reach Dragoncave tomorrow or a week from tomorrow.”

  Jocelyn sighed. She was fast realizing that for all the superior intelligence of dragonkind, with this dragon at least, if she wanted to be understood, she needed to be explicit.

  “No, Elddreki, I’m not saying it will take a long time. I’m saying I’m not sure I can swim that distance at all. If I tried to swim across, I might very well not make it to the other side before I drowned.”

  “Hm,” said Elddreki, with a small chuckle. “Well, you certainly wouldn’t make it to the other side after you drowned.” He tilted his head to the side. “How interesting. You have been walking for a day and a half, with no ill effects, but swimming for a fraction of that time would probably kill you. How frail humans are! I begin to despair of you living long enough to complete our quest together.”

  Jocelyn was starting to have the same doubt in light of her companion’s cavalier attitude toward her survival, but she kept her reflections to herself.

  “I’d like to do my best to remain alive until the task is done, however,” she said instead.

  “Your resolve does you credit,” said Elddreki gravely. It was hard to tell whether the dragon had appreciated the irony in her comment. “That being the case, perhaps we should find another way for you to cross the river. I can fly as easily as swim. Would you object to me carrying you?”

  “No, of course not!” said Jocelyn. “But I thought maybe you didn’t like the idea.”

  “Why would you think that?” frowned Elddreki.

  Jocelyn’s aching muscles seemed to scream in frustration as she thought of the day and a half of grueling—and apparently unnecessary—trekking through the peaks. It was fortunate, she reflected, that she was practiced at keeping her thoughts to herself.

  “Never mind,” she said, her voice a bit short. “If you’re willing, I definitely think that’s the best way for us to cross the river.”

  “Excellent,” said Elddreki brightly, and before she knew what was happening, the dragon had launched himself forward and seized her shoulders with his taloned feet.

  The ride was short—her startled squeak had barely left her mouth when she found herself being placed gently on the ground on the far side of the Great River. But she suspected that no length of time would be sufficient to accustom her to the sensation of flying.

  For several moments she gasped frantically, struggling to take in enough air to fill her lungs. At least Elddreki’s claws had, surprisingly, not punctured her shoulders. But she had the uncomfortable feeling that she had left her stomach behind in Kyona.

  In Kyona! Her head snapped up at the realization that she was in Valoria. She looked back over the river toward her homeland, then quickly around her in an attempt to take in the new environment. It looked similar in landscape, so it must have been nothing more than a foolish fancy that made her think that the very air felt foreign.

  But it was foreign. It was a kingdom she had never been to before, one that had occupied her thoughts almost obsessively for weeks past. All of a sudden, without warning, she started to laugh. The sound bubbled from her hysterically for a full minute, and she didn’t try to hold it back. The release of the torrent was even greater than the normal effect of prolonged speech.

  When she finally subsided, she looked up to find her companion watching her with surprise and the by now familiar expression of interest.

  “Sorry,” she said weakly, wiping tears from her eyes. “It just suddenly struck me how funny it all is.”

  “What?”

  “This!” Jocelyn made a broad gesture that encompassed the mountains, the river, the Valorian countryside, and her strange companion. “All of it. It’s just so…unexpected. I’ve been thinking about my visit to Valoria incessantly for weeks. In all my speculation, I never imagined arriving by means of flying across the river in the middle of nowhere, carried by a dragon.”

  Elddreki chuckled responsively. “I daresay you didn’t. Sometime I will have to carry you on a true flight. I think you would find the experience even more remarkable if I were to show you just how much higher and faster I can fly. I believe your father found it invigorating when I carried him.�
��

  “I’m sure I would,” said Jocelyn. “Why don’t you show me now? You could carry me to Dragoncave, and save us some time.”

  “Save it for what?” asked Elddreki. “What would you do with it? I thought we established that you don’t get many years to your lifespan. Don’t you want to fully spend the few you have? Besides,” he glanced back across the river, “it just seems like it would be a mean-spirited thing to do.”

  Jocelyn paused, her mouth open. She had been about to point out that her idea of “fully spending” her time was not to use it in interminable walking, but the dragon’s last words had distracted her.

  “We should keep going, don’t you think?” continued Elddreki. Before she had a chance to ask him what he had meant, the dragon was moving again, and she had to hurry to keep abreast of him.

  They walked north for several hours through rough hills. This part of Valoria seemed to be as sparsely populated as the corresponding Kyonan area on the other side of the mountains, and they didn’t pass a single soul.

  While Elddreki was content to move at a pace that Jocelyn could sustain, it didn’t seem to occur to him that she might want to stop to rest more often than he did. By the time evening began to fall, she was beyond hungry and tired.

  “Elddreki,” she tried, her voice coming out croaky. “I’m going to need to stop soon. I need water, and I need to eat something.”

  “Again?” asked Elddreki, his tone surprised rather than irritated. “I must bear in mind how often humans need to eat.”

  “Multiple times a day, usually,” said Jocelyn dryly.

  “But surely you haven’t eaten since this morning,” said Elddreki. “Why didn’t you have some food before now?”

  “Because I don’t have any left,” said Jocelyn shortly. The food in the pack she had brought—which she didn’t even remember collecting in her dream-state—had run out that morning.

  “We must get you more,” said Elddreki promptly. “Would you like me to catch you a goat?”