Legacy of the Curse

by Deborah Grace White

  Even Kincaid chuckled this time, clearly imagining the scene as well. “You’re going to set Valoria on fire with this quest of yours, Elddreki.”

  “Of course I’m not,” said Elddreki, taken aback. “Not unless offered extreme provocation.”

  “What?” Kincaid looked alarmed as he clarified. “No, I spoke figuratively. The countryside will be ablaze with rumors within days.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Elddreki comfortably. “Yes, my presence will probably make quite a stir.”

  Jocelyn saw that Kincaid was distracted, still watching Elddreki with a worried look in his eye, so she took control of the conversation.

  “Well, let’s get moving then, before the townsfolk come out to look, or send a messenger to bring the king’s guards down on us or something.”

  Just the thought made her glance uneasily south, toward the distant Bryford. She had been nervous enough about the idea of meeting Valoria’s king and queen when invited to their castle, surrounded by an official delegation. The idea of meeting them while roaming the countryside with a dragon and a handsome vagabond, herself dressed as a peasant, was nothing short of terrifying.

  “Well, if we’re going all the way to the east,” Kincaid said, pulling himself from his abstraction, “then we need horses.” He looked at Jocelyn. “I assume you can ride?”

  “Of course I can,” she said indignantly. “I’m a princess of Kyona.”

  He grinned. “You did that beautifully. You should practice that haughty lift of your chin for when you make it to the Valorian court, in case anyone slights your fair kingdom.”

  “Which it sounds like they might, if even Valoria is caught up in this prejudice against the freedmen,” said Jocelyn with a frown.

  The more she thought about her conversation with Kincaid the night before, the more sinister it seemed that the seemingly unnatural conflict had spread beyond Kyona’s border. In fact, Kincaid had given her a lot to think about. His description of how her parents, and by extension their kingdom, were seen outside Kyona was as astounding to her as it was encouraging.

  “Anyway, about the horses,” said Kincaid quickly, “we’ll have to buy some.”

  “That’s a good idea,” said Elddreki, sounding pleased. “If you ride instead of walking, I might be able to fly every once in a while, instead of crawling along the ground all the time.”

  “But I’m guessing it won’t be easy to find horses for sale around here,” said Jocelyn skeptically. “And what are we going to buy them with? Surely you didn’t bring that much money with you when you left Bryford.”

  “No, I didn’t,” said Kincaid cheerfully. “But there are other ways.”

  Jocelyn frowned. “We’ve been over this, Kincaid. I can’t let you keep paying for everything. It’s not right.”

  “I thought you would feel that way,” said Kincaid seriously. “Which is why I thought perhaps we could sell your hair to get enough money for the horses. Since we know it can fetch a tidy sum around here, if we find the right buyer.”

  Jocelyn froze, her mouth opening and closing several times, although nothing came out. Kincaid and Elddreki were both looking at her expectantly, and she reminded herself she had been the one to insist she should contribute. Her hair would grow back…eventually. She swallowed hard, steeling herself before speaking, but her voice still sounded small.

  “I suppose that’s only fair.”

  Kincaid’s look of expectation vanished, and he roared with laughter. “I was joking, Joss! I wish you could see your face!”

  Jocelyn scowled, her cheeks burning up. Elddreki was looking between them, seeming surprised that the suggestion had been false, but ready to share in Kincaid’s mirth. He gave a small chuckle.

  “Your expression was indeed entertaining.”

  Jocelyn expanded her glare to include the dragon as well. “Well, I don’t see why it’s so hilarious. We don’t have much else of value to barter. Maybe I will sell my hair.”

  “No you won’t,” Kincaid contradicted, still smiling with amusement. “I won’t let you.” He stepped forward, reaching out and twining a strand of her golden hair around his fingers. “It looks nice released from its braid.”

  Jocelyn swallowed and didn’t answer. Her mind flew to the way the gang leader in Thalia had touched her hair when he spoke of selling it. It was very very different when Kincaid did it.

  “So will you buy horses in this town here?” asked Elddreki curiously, breaking the moment. Kincaid stepped back and gave the dragon a friendly smile.

  “I’m not sure this town is prosperous enough to have decent horses for sale.” He grimaced. “Plus I think we may have worn out our welcome.”

  He exchanged a look with Jocelyn, and she wrapped her arms around herself involuntarily, rubbing the spots on her arms where she had been restrained. In everything that happened since, she had forgotten about her fear that she might have caused the gang leader to be killed. Perhaps it was cowardly, but she found she had no desire to find out.

  “Yes, let’s wait until the next town. I don’t mind walking for another day.”

  “Well then,” said Kincaid, as cheerful as ever. “I suppose we head due east and see what we find.”

  They set out immediately, Kincaid in the lead. Elddreki followed him in his usual unhurried way, loping along on all fours. Given how long he had waited to explore Dragoncave, he showed a surprising lack of sentiment in leaving the place. Jocelyn hadn’t heard of it a few days ago, but she felt like her world had turned upside down in the short time since arriving there. She lingered behind for a moment, running her hand along the outside of the mound. She felt a faint pulse of emotion, as though Princess Sarai’s grief and powerlessness were reaching out to her one last time, begging not to be forgotten.

  Jocelyn gave a small shiver and hurried after the others. As Kincaid had said, her own life held more than enough loneliness without taking on someone else’s. And she felt powerless enough as it was, despite the power in her words. She didn’t need a reminder of how dependent a princess’s fate was on the decisions of others.

  Heading east took them back past Thalia again. Kincaid was still in the lead, and he angled around the village, remaining a stone’s throw away from the outlying buildings. Jocelyn was walking next to Elddreki in companionable silence, some paces behind the Valorian.

  From behind, Jocelyn could see that although Kincaid walked with an apparently casual step, and appeared unaware of the nearby buildings, his hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he strolled past. She was the closest to Thalia, and she looked toward it curiously, wondering what had made some of Princess Sarai’s original companions decide to come back and live here.

  “There it is!”

  The sudden shout and the succeeding whistling sound were the only warning Jocelyn received before searing pain sliced across her upper arm. She cried out involuntarily, her hand reaching up to grip the place. It came away red, and Jocelyn stared at it for a moment, confused.

  “JOCELYN!”

  She looked up at Kincaid’s roar, distracted by the strange whistling that was still happening all around her. The Valorian was charging toward her, and it was only as she saw a flash of steel go past in the space between them that her mind suddenly made sense of what was happening.

  “Kincaid!” she gasped, realizing he was putting himself in greater danger with every step he took toward her. “Stop!”

  But he kept coming, reaching her in less than a moment, dodging through the hail of arrows that continued to fly around them. Even as he came alongside her, he lifted his pack like a shield, holding it between her and the attacking villagers. A second later there was a sudden thunk, and his arm shuddered under the impact of an arrow burying itself into the pack. Jocelyn stared at the steel tip protruding from the burlap, arrested in its course toward her chest, then up at Kincaid. His eyes were wide as they also traveled from the arrow to her face.

  “Get behind me!” cried Elddreki, and both of them started, shaken
from their stupor. The dragon had reared up on his hind legs, and they threw themselves forward, ducking around behind him.

  Jocelyn had been so thrown by the unexpected attack that she hadn’t stopped to think why it would be happening. But as she threw herself behind Elddreki, she realized the dragon was the target, and it all made sense. The girls who had seen him by the river had carried the tale home, and the town had been ready in case the beast should try to attack. The arrows continued to fly toward him, and although the townspeople didn’t seem to be very good marksmen, he was a big enough target that some of them were hitting the dragon.

  The occasional dinging sound, like rain falling on glass, was the only obvious impact of these successful hits. Well, that and Elddreki’s growing irritation. It was clear he wasn’t hurt by the arrows that were bouncing off his scales and dropping to the grass, but he was certainly starting to become annoyed.

  He let out a roar, and Jocelyn heard answering screams from the direction of the town. She was crouched behind Elddreki, Kincaid having wrapped himself protectively around her, but she leaned sideways to look. The archers had been hiding inside or behind buildings, but she thought she saw some people fleeing further into the town.

  After a moment’s pause, however, the arrows continued, fewer in number but still steady. The fools were apparently too panicked to grasp the futility of shooting arrows at a creature of Elddreki’s nature.

  Elddreki reared even higher, spreading his wings on either side of him. This time, when he let out another roar, a flicker of flame leaped from his mouth. More screams sounded from the village, and Jocelyn saw with wide eyes that the fire had come dangerously close to the thatched roof of the closest building.

  “Stop, Elddreki!” she shouted. “They don’t understand! Don’t burn their town down!”

  Elddreki paused, turning his vast form carefully, so that he was still placed between the humans and the town, but was now looking down at them. The occasional ping told Jocelyn that the villagers were now shooting at his back.

  Elddreki looked down at her, his reptilian forehead creased strangely.

  “Are you all right, Jocelyn?” he asked, his gaze taking in her ripped sleeve and bleeding arm.

  “I’m fine,” she said quickly. “It’s just a graze. Please. Don’t destroy their homes because of a scratch.”

  Elddreki considered her for a moment, then gave a curt nod. He ignored the ongoing rain of arrows, bending down toward her. Before Jocelyn knew what was happening, he had grasped her in his taloned front feet, one wrapped around her knees, and one around her shoulders, and shot up into the air.

  “Wait!” she screamed, hearing Kincaid’s startled shout, already faint and far below them. “Go back! You can’t leave Kincaid there!”

  Elddreki seemed to hear her, because his rapid ascension checked slightly. He angled down, flying more slowly, and in moments reached the ground. Jocelyn leaped up as soon as he released her, looking around wildly. They were east of Thalia, and already far enough away that the town looked like a toy village.

  “Kincaid!” she gasped, the color draining from her face at the thought of how they had left him in the midst of that deadly hail, his shield suddenly gone. She stumbled a few steps toward the town, but before her panic could rise too much, her questing eyes caught sight of a tall figure in the distance, sprinting toward them.

  She breathed a sigh of relief, her knees suddenly so weak she could barely stand. She felt the presence of the dragon right behind her, and leaned back, letting his giant flank support her weight. The scales were surprisingly comfortable, and both warmth and magic seemed to seep out of him and settle over her reassuringly.

  It took several minutes for Kincaid to reach them, but when he was within hailing distance Jocelyn pushed forward from the dragon and ran the last few steps to meet him.

  “Jocelyn!”

  Kincaid looked as relieved as she felt at their reunion. He pulled her into his arms and held her there for the space of one heartbeat. Then he stepped back, holding her firmly by her uninjured arm and searching her face.

  “Are you all right?”

  “You ran into a deadly stream of arrows to shield me,” she said shakily. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  Kincaid ignored her words, his eyes sliding to her arm. “How badly were you hit?”

  “Hardly at all,” she said quickly, once again touching the spot. It was barely bleeding now.

  Kincaid touched her shoulder gently, looking more closely at the wound. “You’re right,” he said with relief. “It’s shallow.”

  He pulled off his pack, and Jocelyn shuddered at the sight of the hole now ripped into the coarse fabric. Kincaid pulled out a tunic and used his teeth to rip off a strip. He wound it deftly around his hand as he pulled a water skin out as well.

  “Sit,” he said, and Jocelyn obeyed without thinking about it. Kincaid crouched beside her, unstopping the water skin. He poured the clear liquid over the slice in her arm, and she winced in spite of herself.

  “Sorry,” he said quickly, but she shook her head.

  “No, I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have left you behind like that! I was terrified you’d be shot without Elddreki there to cover you.”

  Kincaid smiled, but the expression was strained. “No, they stopped shooting as soon as he was gone. I was never the target. But when I saw the speed he was moving, I thought I’d never be able to reach you. I thought I’d lose you.”

  He stopped speaking for a moment, blowing gently on her arm to dry it, and a tingle raced over Jocelyn’s skin.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, and Kincaid’s eyes snapped to hers. “For saving my life.”

  Kincaid didn’t answer for a moment, his eyes boring into hers. Then he dropped his gaze back to his work, his voice light. “That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”

  Jocelyn felt a surge of disappointment, and wondered if that was how he had felt that morning when she had turned off his earnest words with a joke.

  Kincaid bound the wound efficiently with the strip of fabric and stood up, looking to the dragon.

  “Thank you, Elddreki,” he said. “For shielding us. And for taking Jocelyn to safety.”

  Elddreki was silent, and Jocelyn looked up at him as she struggled to her feet. The dragon had watched the entire interaction between the two humans in passive silence, and there was an unreadable expression on his face.

  Kincaid began to repack his things, not seeming to notice the dragon’s more-than-usually strange behavior. “We should keep moving. I don’t think it’s a good idea to linger near that town.” He looked at Jocelyn, his face softening. “But what about your arm? You should probably be resting.”

  She shook her head quickly. “I’m fine. I can barely feel it now.” The shaking in her limbs had also started to recede, as their conversation distracted her from her most recent near-fatal experience.

  Kincaid looked unconvinced, but he didn’t argue. The three of them began to walk, Kincaid taking care this time to walk alongside Jocelyn, so she was in between the other two. Both of her companions kept shooting furtive looks at her at regular intervals. She sighed, less than impressed.

  “I’m fine, honestly. Stop looking at me like I’m about to pass out.”

  “I wasn’t concerned about your injury,” said Elddreki, sounding more like his normal self. “It is slight, as Kincaid said. I was reflecting on what a strange phenomenon you are.”

  Jocelyn gave Kincaid a rueful look. He smiled sympathetically, but the gesture didn’t quite reach his eyes. He still looked stressed.

  They walked for most of the day, conversation limited. Despite her strong words, Jocelyn felt tired, and falling back into her habitual silence was easiest. Even Kincaid wasn’t as cheerful as usual.

  As for Elddreki, the dragon watched Jocelyn unashamedly as she walked, his expression still difficult to read.

  They had headed out into open country after the attack, and they still hadn’t encountered a tow
n by the time the light began to fade. They stopped in a copse of scrubby trees, Kincaid collecting enough fallen branches to sustain a decent fire. It wasn’t exactly cold, but Jocelyn was still grateful to draw close to the flames, naturally supplied by Elddreki. She had been feeling uncomfortable all day with the dragon’s scrutiny, and the odd shiver still ran down her frame.

  Kincaid sat close beside her on the ground as they shared a simple meal. She thought Elddreki would curl up for sleep, but instead he sat upright across the fire from them, his posture similar to a cat, but his size requiring them to crane their necks when he unexpectedly opened conversation.

  “I have been thinking about this morning’s events,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “The experience was…strange. I think I am starting to understand.”

  “Understand what?” asked Jocelyn with a frown.

  Elddreki turned his gaze onto her, and stared at her unblinkingly. The effect of his snakelike orbs was hypnotic in the flickering light of the fire, and she tugged at her sleeve nervously.

  “This protective instinct,” he said. “That parents feel for their young, and men for women, according to Kincaid.” The dragon’s eyes flicked to the Valorian as he said his name, but the next moment they were back on Jocelyn. “My reaction to that attack was strong, disproportionate. I knew they could not harm me, but I was angry you were caught in the path of the arrows, and concerned you would be hurt.”

  “Uh, thank you,” said Jocelyn lamely, after a moment of silence.

  “I have never before experienced vicarious concern of such potency,” said Elddreki. “It is unexpected. It seems I am becoming fond of you.”

  Jocelyn exchanged a look with Kincaid, completely at a loss as to how to respond to this bizarre declaration. Elddreki didn’t look fond. He was looking at her as though she were a fascinating—but dangerous—anomaly. Kincaid looked as unnerved as she felt.

  “I caught a glimpse, for just a moment, of why I might wish to take responsibility for your well-being,” the dragon was continuing. “Of why your father, or even Kincaid, might expect me to.” He frowned. “It is how I imagine I might feel toward a dragonling, if ever I were to meet one.”