Dragon Boy (Hilda's Inn Book 2)

by Cyn Bagley

  “Dragonling, control your thoughts,” he heard in his head. He blushed a little, and concentrated on the road.

  When he looked with his inner sight, centered in his forehead, he saw that the wraiths were hiding and clinging in the center of the stones. He saw her touch one stone and the occupant was flung into the air. A white light opened and the wraith raced toward the white tunnel as if its life depended on it.

  Just before the wraith reached its escape, a black net snared the it. A sharp emotion of despair stabbed into Davi’s heart.

  Hilda threw a fireball at the net. The net turned crimson for a moment and then turned to ash. The ash fell to the earth. The wraith sped away. For a moment Davi thought he felt gratitude coming from it.

  “That was exhausting,” Varia said to them. “And it was only one wraith.” She sighed. Hilda looked tired from one fireball. She had already been caught on the road too. He could still see the lines that connected her to the road and they were getting thicker.

  “We need to find the source of the spell.” Davi looked at the two women. “This can’t go on… It can’t.” For a moment, Davi felt pity for the wraiths.

  “You saw how much energy we expended for one wraith,” said Hilda. She looked at the road. It went on and on into the far horizon. “The three of us do not have the energy to free every wraith here. Not in our lifetime.”

  Hilda frowned, then said. “How has this magic been overlooked?”

  There were no wards around the road. It was as if it wanted to be noticed. Still it had to have been here a long time to have eaten all the souls in the area. It must have run out of souls before it could come to a city. Davi shuddered at the thought of all the damage it could do in the kingdom. Nothing left except this road. It would feed until it filled the entire world.

  If they didn’t do something now, then there would be no one who could oppose it. He shuddered.

  Davi closed his eyes and felt the road. He walked to the spot which he felt was the head of the road. He opened his eyes. The road stretched far into the horizon. He could feel the illusions on the road, but couldn’t penetrate them. His eyes were deceived.

  He tried to smell the road. Everything had a slight smell to it. This road had a slightly rotten smell like eggs left in the sun too long. He breathed in and out, concentrating on the smell.

  Davi’s hearing wouldn’t help here. There were no sounds from the road. It was like a black hole—where nothing escaped, including sound. But when he listened again, he heard a slight click, click, click. It sounded like a beetle. There were no living things, including beetles, here.

  He kept his eyes closed so that his sight wouldn’t distract him. An hour later, when he felt Varia’s hand on his shoulder, he shrugged her off. He wasn’t in the mood to tell them what he was following.

  Suddenly Hilda slapped his face. “Are you in there?”

  Davi opened his eyes. Varia was leading the horses. She was stepping high so that the horses wouldn’t step on her feet. The saddle horse was lipping her hair. He wanted to laugh at the sight.

  “You want me to slap you again?” Hilda asked when he closed his eyes. He opened them quickly.

  “What the hell were you doing? I thought we had decided to get reinforcements. I thought you were smarter than this.” She swung her hands around. He listened to her rant. There was no way he would get a word in edgewise while she was yelling.

  He waited for her to wind down. “You were wrong.” Then started up the road. It was probably the wrong thing to say because he was now being yelled at by two woman, and one an old dragon who knew how to cut a young man into little pieces.

  He refused to hear them and closed his eyes. Hilda stopped him again. “At least, you need to eat.” He accepted some dried meat and chewed. When he looked toward the head of the road, once again he saw that it went to the horizon. It was an illusion, of course. There weren’t enough souls in this area to reach that far.

  This little bit of disbelief dismantled the visual illusion. The road still had many cobblestones, but it was a hundred feet instead of miles. The grassy plain they were on was now a small field. Then the aural illusion fell as he concentrated. The woods around the field was filled with animal noises. This field was bereft of all life, but there was life in the trees. What kind of visual and aural illusion could fool a dragon? He filed it away to think about later.

  The clicking sound he could hear became louder until the two women could hear it. “Found it,” he said.

  Hilda slapped the back of his head. “Tell us what you are doing next time.” He felt, rather than saw, Hilda and Varia roll their eyes at each other.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Delhaven

  Michael Ordson

  Michael couldn’t remember how many days had come around since they had quietly opened the new Inn. He leaned against the door frame and looked out across the alley. The garbage had piled up there. He would have to ask the retired mercenaries to shovel the piles of food scraps and waste into the cart and haul it out to the dump, which was a mile outside the city.

  Some rats poked through the food and scurried under the piles. The smell of rotting made him cough. In the bigger cities, the city officials had stopped the practice of throwing garbage and chamber pots in the streets. Other than horse waste, the smells had gotten better. You could walk through the streets without holding a handkerchief dipped in perfume over your nose.

  Delhaven was growing rapidly because of the docks and merchants, but Lord Barton was the town’s official and he was not interested in cleaning the city. From Michael’s viewpoint, Lord Barton wanted a population that cringed at his approach. There had been rumors that some merchants had lost precious cargo to Lord Barton. He didn’t just take a tax. He took the entire cargo.

  This practice was uncommon in other cities and towns—not if a town wanted merchandise. Because it happened rarely in Delhaven, the merchants shrugged and considered it a tax. However, there were less and less precious cargo and spices coming through the city. The port was the main reason Delhaven was on the map.

  It was a bustling port with usually one or two ships docked. It was also open during the winter. It had a natural harbor and the winter was much milder in this area. The worst they had to deal with was rain. But even the rain brought a benefit. Two times a year, when the rain fell hard, the garbage would be swept up into the small streets that had become rivers and into the sea. It was why most buildings had two or more stories so that when the floods started, they could climb to the top story and be dry. The floods never lasted more than two or three days.

  Before Lord Barton, the townsfolk used to gather on the hill overlooking the city near the castle. The old lords would put up tents. It was the start of the rain festivals. During many of these floods, they would eat, drink, and watch the rain wash the city clean. It was a time to make merry, make contracts and even marriages.

  People are resilient.

  Since the current Lord Barton took over the castle, he had quit hosting the rain festival. It had changed the community drastically. Now every man was wary of the other. There was no good-will among the shopowners and working class. Plus Lord Barton spied on his community.

  Michael shut the door and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He could still smell the rotting garbage.

  The cook handed him a plate of food… bacon, eggs, and ale. He took a big sniff, sat at a small table and ate. Today would be like any other. He would eat, then open the Inn. He and the drudge would start serving drinks and stew. Thankfully Grandpa Stevens had organized the remaining retired mercenaries. They picked up the bedding on the main floor and put out the benches and tables. When he finished his breakfast and walked into the main room, it was already filling with customers.

  Near mid-morning he traded places with Josephine. Elita helped with cleaning the bedrooms, stairs and when, that was done, she worked in the kitchen with the cook. The cook didn’t dare to intimidate Elita. Elita, although short, was strong enough to
pick up the cast-iron pots. The two were very, very polite to each other.

  Since they didn’t have a stable, one-handed Rob helped with keeping order, but his main job was to make sure the fire stayed lit. He and the boy, also one of Hilda’s strays, left the city to cut wood in the forest. They also gathered kindling. It took care of one expense.

  When the Inn had enough wood, Rob and the boy would sell the rest of the wood to pubs along the dock. Michael didn’t begrudge them the coin.

  Michael didn’t see Josephine that much. They passed each other. When he saw her, he wanted to touch her hair. He kept his hands to himself, though. At the end of the day he was so exhausted that he just wanted to sleep. He would dream of her many times. When he woke in the morning, she wouldn’t be there. He would smell his pillow and her distinctive smell was not on his pillow. Then it was another start to another day.

  In the afternoon Michael would instruct Kayla on magical exercises. Part of it was energy manipulation and other times he would show her how to move her body. At first she would turn up her nose at the movements. “I’m not learning how to be a warrior,” she whined after a particularly hard workout.

  “If you want to do magic,” he told her with a half-smile on his face, “you need to be physically strong too.”

  Today they were practicing with fire.

  Michael and Kayla sat with their legs crossed in the middle of the floor. A salt circle was around them for protection. Michael didn’t want to burn down the inn if Kayla was more powerful than he suspected.

  Her eyes glowed with suppressed excitement. Michael made her breathe a few more times. Then he started the exercise. “Hold your right hand facing up,” he said.

  Kayla stretched her hand out, her palm toward the ceiling. He smiled, “Your other right,” he said.

  Kayla blushed, then put her right hand out with the palm up. “Concentrate on the flame,” he said. “Watch.”

  He put his right palm up and concentrated on calling the flame. Aletha, his healer, had said that if he could conjure up a spark, then he might have a chance to recover his magic. He felt pricking and his palms reddened a little, but there was no spark. He sighed.

  “Okay,” he said with a laugh. “I had wanted to show you flame, but here’s what you should do.”

  Kayla held her body tight. “Relax,” he said. “Take a deep breath.” She took a breath and then held it. “Let it out.” It whooshed out of her body.

  He smiled. She wanted to learn so badly that she overdid his instructions. “Let’s try it again. Watch me.”

  He breathed slowly in and out until his shoulders and neck were loose. “Now, you.”

  It took a long time before she finally relaxed. Before she realized that she had done it, he said, “Now think of a candle.”

  She closed her eyes. Whoosh. A huge fireball appeared in her hand. Michael was shocked. He should have taught her grounding first. She opened her eyes and almost dropped the fire ball.

  “Okay,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “Now think about blowing out the candle.”

  A huge wind whirled around the room. It blew out the fireball, but it also threw papers around the floor, and it began to get wilder and wilder. Michael yelled, “HALTEN.”

  The wind stopped. He pulled the little girl up on his lap. Her face was white and she was shaking. He picked her up and carried her to the door, down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Cook looked at both of them and had two bowls of stew on the table. He spoon-fed the girl until she was finally able to pick up the spoon herself.

  “Well,” he said. “We need to be more careful.”

  Kayla laughed. Michael smiled and patted her hand. “Don’t try calling the flame without me,” he warned her. She nodded her head and kept eating.

  But Michael knew magical children. She would try this again. He needed to get her to someone who could train her now. She was too powerful for him.

  ***

  That afternoon Michael and Kayla went to meet with the healer. She would normally come to the inn but, after that last session with her, she had said that Michael needed to move more. “We will meet at my house.” He agreed.

  Her house had a separate entrance for a small room that she used to see patients. The house was at the opposite end of the small city and it took them twenty minutes to walk there. Jo still wasn’t talking about her sister and, when he told her that he needed to see the Healer, she pursed her lips and turned away.

  Instead of bringing them together, the stress of running such an establishment pulled them farther apart. They barely talked to each other anymore. That seed in his heart that wished she would think of him more than Madam Mary Rose’s brother was dying. She had more warmth toward their customers than to him.

  So, this afternoon, Elita waved at Kayla and continued her work in the kitchen as Michael and Kayla left to see the Healer.

  The sun peeped through dirty clouds. Even in the sunniest spot, a light rain fell on their heads and shoulders. Kayla was wearing a coat and scarf, which she pulled over her head. Michael was not dressed as warmly. The longer they walked in the light shower, the colder he got. About the time they knocked on the Healer’s door, he was shivering. The warmth of her home hit him. He stepped past the healer and smelled the herbs drying in the kitchen.

  It was a small, homey place. A cat came up and twirled around his ankles. He wanted to sneeze. The healer said nothing, but led them from her office to a small parlor. Michael and Kayla sat down on a small couch.

  The cat jumped on the couch and settled on Kayla’s lap. Kayla sat still and held her breath.

  Healer Varia smiled. “Don’t be scared, child. Pet her.”

  So Kayla put her hand on the cat’s head and rubbed down softly. The cat began to purr. After a few strokes the cat made a demanding sound in the back of her throat. “What do I do?” Kayla asked.

  “Quit petting.”

  The cat moved sinuously to its feet, and then jumped down from her lap to the floor. Its tail went up and waved back and forth as it walked through the doorway that led into the kitchen.

  “Who are you?” asked Healer Varia, directing her attention to the little girl.

  Kayla ducked her head shyly and said, “I’m Kayla and I’m the daughter of Elita from the Western Mountains.”

  Healer Varia smiled. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen? There are some tea and cookies on the table. Keep Smokey company.”

  Kayla obediently stood up and followed the cat into the kitchen. They heard her talking to the cat.

  “So why did you bring a dwarf here?” Healer Varia asked Michael. Michael couldn’t tell if she was angry or if she was curious. She held her voice and face so still that he didn’t have any clues as to how to spin this.

  He decided to tell her the entire story. “Her mother showed up at my door recently. They had been chased from their home by a Draugr.” For a moment he thought that hearing about the Draugr would distract her from the little girl, but Healer Varia was made of sterner stuff. The distraction didn’t work.

  “Go on.” She raised an eyebrow, which told him that he was to keep talking about the girl.

  Michael knew in his heart, because his heart was sinking like a stone, that she wasn’t going to be pleased with the next part. After all, it had been stupid of him to try to teach this little girl magic, when his own was blocked.

  “She is not just magical.” He paused as if to gather his thoughts and to give himself some space. “She has fire magic.”

  “How do you know this?” the Healer’s voice got cold. He could feel the chill from where he was sitting.

  “Ummm, uh.” He spit it out. “We were,” he cleared his throat. “I was trying to teach her.”

  The Healer’s eyes burned with such coldness that he stopped. “You thought that you could teach a child when your own magic is blocked? Your mind is scarred? I thought you were an intelligent man.”

  They say confession is good for the soul. In this case she ripped the confes
sion from his lips. He told about making a circle, about calling fire, about the trouble he had in grounding the girl so that the inn didn’t burn down.

  Her lips became tighter and whiter. “You could have killed that girl.”

  He felt bands around his heart tighten and he choked out. “Yes.”

  The healer left him sitting on the couch, thinking of his sins and feeling sorry… very, very sorry. He heard her go into the kitchen and talk to Kayla.

  It was a soft kind voice. He could hear the sound, but he couldn’t hear the words. So he stewed, thinking how stupid he had been. He still had the arrogance of a full mage without the magic. There was a reason Hilda had sent this girl to him. It wasn’t so he could ruin her life, or burn down another inn. No, she had wanted him to help the girl.

  It didn’t mean that he would teach her. It meant that he would find her the right teachers. He was a fool.

  A few moments later Healer Varia walked back. “Are you finished with beating up on yourself?”

  He nodded. Yes. He had been beating up on himself since he had failed with the Grimoire. He still didn’t know what happened, but he hadn’t saved the village. The little that he remembered said he was out most of the time.

  He would have to quit berating himself for not being the hero.

  “Let me look at your hands,” she said.

  There was a small red mark on the tip of the left index finger.

  “Oh, it looks like your magic channel is trying to regenerate. It is still badly scarred, so I don’t…” she stopped. “Oh, I see, it is not regenerating, it is making a new channel.” There was a touch of excitement in her voice.

  “It’s hard to tell how much magic you will get back, but with this new channel you’ll be able to do something.” She paused and then looked into his eyes. “I wasn’t sure.”

  It was good news, but he wasn’t thinking about his good news. “What about Kayla?”

  “The girl does have fire magic and is also a fire elemental.”

  “What?” So that was why the fire roared at her slightest call.