Legacy of the Curse

by Deborah Grace White

  So she brushed herself off as well as she could, splashing river water on her face and washing her arms up to the elbow. Then she hurried into the dress Kincaid had bought her. It was a good fit, for which she was fairly certain she could thank the saleswoman rather than the purchaser. It was much simpler than anything she had ever worn, the coarse fabric scratching at her skin. But as she turned this way and that, she decided she was pleased with the effect.

  The reddish brown was a natural color, not often found in the decadent fabrics of court. But Jocelyn thought it suited her well. The skirt was full enough not to restrict movement, but nothing like the voluminous folds of even her most practical gown at home. It was hard to tell without a looking glass, of course, but she had the impression that it gave her whole figure a much slimmer line.

  And it wasn’t entirely without embellishment. There was simple embroidery around the hem, cuffs, and neckline, and the lacing on the front of the bodice was a pretty golden color.

  She walked back around the mound with a spring in her step, enjoying how much easier it was to move in this practical garment. She found Elddreki and Kincaid deep in conversation, right where she had left them. Kincaid’s eyes flicked to her as soon as she came into view.

  “There you are,” he said, his voice teasing. “You took so long I thought you’d fallen into the river.”

  Jocelyn scowled at him. She had tried to be quick, but she was used to having a lady’s maid to help her dress. “You try lacing up this bodice, then we’ll talk.”

  She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Kincaid remained awkwardly silent, looking like he wasn’t entirely sure where to look.

  “It’s a nice dress, though,” she hurried on. “Thank you.” She looked Kincaid over properly and realized he had changed his tunic while she was gone. His pants were still pretty dusty, but it was a definite improvement.

  “Kincaid was just telling me about the power in the cave, and its curious effect on you,” said Elddreki. “Most interesting.”

  “Did you tell him about the runes?” asked Jocelyn eagerly.

  “I was just getting to that.” Kincaid hurried to retrieve the parchment, looking like he was glad to have something to do. He stretched it out carefully while Jocelyn described to Elddreki what they had seen.

  The dragon curved his long neck downward, lowering his enormous head toward the parchment with more eagerness than Jocelyn had ever seen him display. He didn’t immediately read the runes, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, as if his breath could lift the meaning off the page and take it directly into his mind.

  “Hm,” he said, opening his eyes. The snakelike orbs blinked once, scanning the markings at last. “You were right that the same runes are repeated more than once, even in this small space.”

  “What does it say?” asked Kincaid, looking excited.

  Elddreki shook his head slowly, still studying the parchment. “It is not as simple as translating it into the language of men, a rune for a word. That is not how dragon runes work.” He was silent another moment, then he gave a satisfied nod. “But I take the meaning, I think.”

  “Well?” Jocelyn prompted impatiently, when Elddreki fell silent.

  “Water,” said Elddreki, and Jocelyn stilled in surprise, remembering the impression she had formed when she first touched the runes. “But not just water,” Elddreki was continuing. “The sea. The vastness of the ocean. Salt and waves and foam. The dragons who came to this cave were dreaming of the sea when they inscribed these runes.”

  “The sea?” Jocelyn repeated, and Elddreki nodded serenely.

  “It is a common dream. Most of us who live in Vasilisa have never experienced the sea, but we see it often in our mind’s eye. Many have a great curiosity to see it in its entirety.”

  “So you think the dragons probably left Valoria?” asked Jocelyn, disappointed. “That they traveled to the sea and went somewhere beyond?”

  “I didn’t say that,” said Elddreki. “I said that they were dreaming of the sea, not that they went beyond it. I can’t be certain of course, but my best guess would be that the dragons who left these runes traveled on from here toward the sea. Perhaps they found a place to settle near its waters. We should start there.”

  “Start…where?” asked Jocelyn dubiously.

  “At the ocean,” said Elddreki, his voice matter-of-fact.

  Jocelyn frowned at Kincaid, and he raised in inquiring eyebrow.

  “I’m just trying to picture the map of the North Lands in my father’s castle,” she explained. “You’d know better than I would, but my memory is that Valoria—”

  “Has a lot of coastline, yes, it does,” acknowledged Kincaid. “Starting at ‘the ocean’ is a bit of a daunting task.”

  “Well, there’s no hurry, as I keep reminding you,” said Elddreki.

  “There might not be any hurry for you,” said Jocelyn, exasperated, “but every day I spend out here is a day that’s borrowed from the state visit I’m supposed to be making at Bryford.” She looked over at Kincaid. “And Kincaid isn’t supposed to be here at all. I doubt he can spend a decade on this quest.”

  “Probably not, no,” said Kincaid apologetically.

  “Well, that’s no issue,” said Elddreki. “Kincaid needn’t be here if he doesn’t wish to be. He can leave at any time, with no loss of honor.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until the quest is done,” said Kincaid firmly.

  Elddreki swung his head around, his eyes staring unblinkingly into Kincaid’s. “Is that a promise, young Valorian?”

  Kincaid met his gaze for a long moment, then lowered his eyes with a sigh. When he spoke, his words were directed at the dragon, but his eyes were on Jocelyn. “No. But it’s my intention.”

  “Intentions change,” said Elddreki dismissively. “Especially human intentions.” He smiled at Kincaid, however, as if to soften his words. “But you are welcome to travel with us for as long as you choose. You have proven to be of great use on this quest.”

  “I have?” asked Kincaid, looking gratified but skeptical.

  “Certainly,” said Elddreki. “You seem dedicated to keeping Jocelyn alive, and given the frailty of humankind, that is a great encouragement to me. I desire her assistance in my efforts, and unlike you, she is under an obligation.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I wonder if I should have mentioned your presence to her father. Would it perhaps have encouraged him also?”

  “You’ve spoken to my father?” Jocelyn asked quickly. “When? While we were in the cave?” Practically embracing in the dark, she added silently. She had to exercise great restraint to prevent herself from looking over her shoulder nervously. She half expected her father to descend that very moment, sweeping her off to lock her away somewhere where she would never be allowed to speak to another male again.

  “No, not last night,” said Elddreki calmly. “The night before. It was his call that took my attention when you were about to enter the first village we came to. I thought it would be best to return to the mountains while I communicated with him. That’s why I sent you on into the town alone.”

  “Not the best of ideas,” muttered Kincaid, but Jocelyn ignored him.

  “But that was ages ago!” she protested. “In human terms, at least,” she added hastily, forestalling Elddreki’s inevitable interruption. “Why didn’t you mention it before now? For example some time yesterday, when we were walking in silence half the day?”

  Elddreki did his rippling shrug. “You seemed disinclined to engage in conversation.”

  Jocelyn barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “Well, what did he say? Was he worried? Did you set his mind at ease?”

  “He said a great many things,” said Elddreki calmly. “And he was certainly worried. It seems you did not exaggerate when you described the effect your disappearance would create. He was reassured, however, to discover you were with me.”

  Elddreki tilted his head to the side in a pensive posture, giving a guttural
chuckle. “Actually there is a certain irony in that thought. He was indeed greatly reassured in the belief that I knew where you were, and that you were safe. But as later information revealed, at that moment I did not know precisely where you were, and you were not in fact safe.”

  Jocelyn glanced involuntarily at Kincaid, and saw that her human companion clearly didn’t find this observation as humorous as her dragon companion.

  “What did he say when you told him I was fulfilling his promise to assist you?”

  Elddreki frowned slightly. “His reaction was curious. I would describe him as astonished. If he remembered our agreement at all—which I am not certain he did—he certainly didn’t seem to recognize the inevitability of me interpreting your trip through the mountains as an offer to commence the quest. And he was…I would have to say distressed…to discover you were now shouldering the burden of his promise.”

  Jocelyn sighed. “Yes, I can imagine. I doubt he thinks I’m capable of anything of the kind.”

  Kincaid frowned at her. “More likely he’s just concerned about your safety, like any father would be.”

  She shrugged. “That too, of course.”

  Jocelyn turned her attention back to the dragon. “Did he say what he was going to do about the Valorian royals?”

  “He did not,” said Elddreki. “I mentioned you were hopeful he might communicate with them regarding your change in plan, so I imagine he will do so.” For a moment they were all silent, then Elddreki spoke again. “I must say, given how lightly he has apparently held his own promise, I was surprised that he seemed almost to expect a promise from me. Or at least, he seemed to expect me to take responsibility for your safety.” He brought his unblinking gaze to bear on Jocelyn. “Do you have such an expectation, Jocelyn?”

  Jocelyn saw Kincaid shift in her peripherals, but she didn’t look over at him. She thought for a moment about her answer. “No,” she said quietly. “I don’t have that expectation. I hope to survive this quest, of course, and I hope that if we are attacked you will assist me if you can. But I don’t think I can expect you to make a promise to that effect.”

  Elddreki nodded, apparently well satisfied with this answer. But the strength of Kincaid’s gaze brought Jocelyn’s attention to him at last. She saw that he was much less pleased, his forehead creased in a frown.

  “Well,” said the dragon, straightening up again. “I did not make any promises. But I did tell him that should our quest go so well as to finish while the Kyonan delegation is still at Bryford, I would be glad to see you to the city, where you could rejoin them.”

  “Thank you.” Jocelyn nodded briskly. She could feel Kincaid’s eyes still on her, and she thought it was time to turn the conversation. “Now the real question is, where do we go next?” She held up a hand as Elddreki opened his mouth. “And don’t say the coast. That’s not specific enough.”

  “Well, where is the closest coast?” asked Elddreki reasonably. “Perhaps we can start there.”

  “No,” said Kincaid unexpectedly. Both of the others turned to him, and he looked suddenly uncomfortable. “I mean, I know it’s not for me to decide, but I don’t think that’s the best idea. The closest coast would be due south, but to get there we’d have to go through—”

  “Bryford,” finished Jocelyn in sudden understanding. “Yes, let’s not go there.” She frowned. “If I’m honest, I don’t love the plan of wandering the coast aimlessly.” She looked at Kincaid apologetically. “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”

  “What is it?” he asked warily.

  “Well, Princess Sarai found this place by following local legends,” Jocelyn started. “And it wasn’t the first place she explored. She followed up all the superstitious stories she heard about magic, just in case one of them was true. And one of them was—Dragoncave really does have dragon history.”

  “What’s your point?” asked Kincaid blankly.

  “Just that maybe we should do the same. Follow up legends, I mean.”

  “That sounds like a sensible idea to me,” interjected Elddreki. “That is precisely how I became interested in Dragoncave, after all.”

  “Exactly,” said Jocelyn, encouraged. She turned to Kincaid. “If you don’t want to head for the southern coast—and neither do I—then maybe we should try the eastern coast. You know, where the easterners live. The ones who believe in—”

  Kincaid cut her off with a groan. “Wyverns. You’re talking about the myths of wyverns.” He shook his head. “They’re not real, Joss. It would be a wild goose chase.”

  “Well, that’s what I thought about this place,” argued Jocelyn. “But I was wrong.”

  Kincaid groaned again. “Why did I have to tell you about those myths?” he grumbled.

  “What are wyverns?” asked Elddreki. “I am unfamiliar with this word.”

  Kincaid sighed. “They’re legendary sea monsters. Some of the people living on Valoria’s eastern coast believe they inhabit the waters around Wyvern Islands, off the coast. They say the wyverns bring down ships that stray too close to their waters, and that they’re the reason it’s impossible to make landfall on the islands. It’s a myth to explain the impassibility of very treacherous waters.”

  “Hm,” said Elddreki thoughtfully. “Do not be too hasty to discount myths, Kincaid. Have not dragons been considered mythical for much of your human history? And yet here I am.”

  “That’s what I thought!” said Jocelyn triumphantly. “It can’t hurt to check it out. I mean, if we’re headed for a random coast anyway, why not make it that one?”

  “Because,” said Kincaid, exasperated, “that’s about the furthest we could go to reach coastline. Besides, even if they were real, what would be the use in finding wyverns? Aren’t we supposed to be looking for dragons?”

  “We know legends grow in the telling,” said Jocelyn quickly. “What I’m wondering is whether the stories of wyverns could have grown from sightings of actual dragons, long ago.”

  Kincaid frowned. “You think the dragons who came to the cave, the ones who were dreaming of the ocean, might have settled in the east and become known as wyverns?”

  Jocelyn shrugged. “It’s not completely impossible.”

  Kincaid raised an eyebrow. “The standard is not high, apparently.”

  “You know what I mean,” said Jocelyn, laughing in spite of herself.

  “I like your plan, Jocelyn,” said Elddreki approvingly.

  “Thank you.” She glanced at Kincaid, trying not to smirk. He couldn’t fight her proposal now the dragon had endorsed it.

  “Fine,” he said with a sigh as he slung his pack over his shoulder. “We can look for unicorns on the way.”

  Jocelyn grinned at his sarcastic tone, but apparently it was lost on Elddreki.

  “Unicorns?” he asked curiously. “What are they?”

  “Another type of mythical creature,” said Kincaid shortly. “Not real. They’re like horses, but they have a horn in the middle of their heads, and they’re…I don’t know…magical.”

  “Ah yes,” said Elddreki, sounding pleased. “The magic-carrying horned horses. Yes, I remember those.”

  Kincaid, ever ready for action, had already taken a step eastward, but he stopped dead at Elddreki’s words.

  “What? They’re—they’re not real.”

  “No, of course not,” said Elddreki soothingly, apparently noticing Kincaid’s uneasy expression. “They haven’t been around for hundreds of years. We made sure to get the last of them. But dragons have excellent memory, you know. I can recall them with perfect clarity.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Elddreki had been squinting eastward as he spoke, as if trying to spy the far distant coast, and it took him several moments to realize both humans were staring at him in shock, mouths hanging open.

  “You remember them?” Jocelyn repeated faintly. “You’re saying unicorns were real, and you’ve seen them within your lifetime?”

  “That’s right,” said
Elddreki, faintly surprised. “Was I unclear?”

  “But surely that’s impossible,” protested Jocelyn. “I thought dragons were the only source of magic.”

  “That’s right,” Elddreki repeated. He cocked his head slightly as he looked at her. “That’s why you are such a mystery.”

  “Then how can there have been unicorns, or magical horses as you called them?” Kincaid cut in.

  “I didn’t call them magical horses,” Elddreki corrected him. “I called them magic-carrying horses. It’s a significant difference.”

  “Well, it’s one you’re going to have to explain if you want us to have any hope of understanding you,” said Jocelyn frankly.

  “I am very happy to do so,” said Elddreki. “But perhaps I should explain while we travel, now that we have settled on our direction. I suspect we cannot stay in this location for much longer without sustaining another visit from the people of the nearby town.”

  “Another visit?” asked Jocelyn quickly. “Has there been one already?”

  “Indeed.” Elddreki inclined his head. “While you were in the cave. The villagers who came seemed surprised to discover me here.”

  Jocelyn snorted at the measured comment, but Kincaid was looking dark again.

  “The gang came looking for us,” he said, his eyes flicking to Jocelyn.

  “Gang?” repeated Elddreki. “I don’t think so. And I don’t think they were looking for you. From the items they were carrying I would guess their purpose was to collect water from the river.”

  “What happened when they saw you?” asked Jocelyn, trying not to laugh at the image of a group of girls traipsing down to the river for the daily water collection and encountering an actual dragon sitting casually by. She could picture just the look of detached curiosity Elddreki would have worn as he watched them.

  “Well,” said Elddreki placidly, “they did not seem to me to be of very noble bearing, so I decided I did not wish to converse with them. They returned rapidly to the village, without collecting water.”