Dragonoak

by Sam Farren

  “I have information for Gavern. I know how to get to Reis and how to turn Port Mahon against them,” I said dryly.

  It wasn't much of a plan at all, but it was all we had.

  “That's the thing about Gavern. He's smart alright, but he's got an ego,” Varn told me. “He won't get too close to any town he's attacking, but he won't let anything happen without his supervision, either. Met him once. He likes showing his face 'cause he don't let anyone escape. Usually.”

  I nodded, eyes fixed on the ship. I'd wished for storm clouds to stop us, and here they were, manifested in the form of Gavern's ship. The wood was stained black and as we drew towards it, I was certain it would swallow us whole, for the way it blocked out the sun.

  “You can stop that, right? The glowing's gonna give us straight away.”

  I nodded, not believing it. All the work I'd done in Port Mahon over such a short period of time had washed most of it out of me, but drawing closer to Gavern's ship, to what I had to do, was causing it to thrum again.

  “Get on it, Rowan. We've only got a few seconds now. Better think real hard about why you're doing this. Me, I just wanna get back and see Lanta again.”

  Gavern deserved to die. There was no doubting that, but that didn't mean I had any right to kill him. That was the block I needed to push past. I needed to focus on why I was doing this. To help the others. To return to Asar. And surely Claire's dragon-bone armour had survived the flames. Surely I'd be able to dig that out from beneath the ash and cling to that, if nothing else...

  “Thank the gods,” Varn said, lugging something out of the boat's one-person cabin. “Here. Catch!”

  My skin was dark again, and I grabbed what Varn threw my way, fingers wrapping around the chunk of wood before I processed what it was. I looked down to find one of Reis' old legs in my hands, patterns cruder than the ones they now boasted.

  “Um... ?”

  “Gotta have some proof you know Reis, right?”

  “Reis is in on this?” I asked as the shadow of Gavern's ship swallowed us whole. “You're working with Reis?”

  Varn's attempt at a scowl manifested as a smirk, and with a wink, she disappeared, hiding behind the cabin so that the pirates whose attention we'd caught would think I'd come alone. Three of them were leaning over the edge, getting a good look at me, ready to call for back-up the moment the short, scruffy, unarmed Felheimer became a threat. The ship was so tall that craning my neck back made me dizzy in the way that looking up at mountains once had. I tried to pick Gavern out from the souls rumbling around within, but knew that I couldn't kill him from such a distance without wiping out the rest of the crew as well.

  “Girl, you'd best be turning on back,” one of Gavern's men said.

  Had I turned and sailed away, I got the feeling he would've used my boat for target practise.

  “I've come from Mahon,” I said, voice barely reaching above the waves. “I've got information for Gavern.”

  I heard the words as though I wasn't speaking them, and the pirates took the time to furrow their brows before nudging each other in the sides and chuckling amongst themselves.

  “Don't reckon that'll be of much use to him. We've got a couple of ships razing the damn town to the ground as we speak!” a second man called. “Only sorry I had to stay here and miss out on it.”

  “It's no good. Two of those ships have already been sunk, and Mahon's claimed the third,” I said, louder now. “Your men's heads are being put on spikes, and those are probably the lucky ones.”

  “You're gonna have to do better than that, girl,” the first man said, snorting. He'd pulled his sword from his belt and had it rested along the ship's railing, as though I needed reminding of the danger all around me.

  “Look!” I said, hoisting Reis' leg up and feeling ridiculous for it.

  The men did look, scrunching up their faces as they squinted.

  “The hell is that?”

  “Idiot. That's only Reis' leg,” the one who'd yet to speak said. “Don't you listen to a bloody word Gavern says?”

  It did the trick. With a warning that I'd better not try anything funny, a rope ladder was thrown off the side, and I tucked Reis' leg under my arm as I climbed. I kept my eyes fixed on my hands, knuckles only turning white because of the way I gripped the rungs, and the ladder creaked and twisted as I climbed. One of the men grabbed my shoulder at the top and another seized hold of the leg, rushing over to Gavern's cabin ahead of me. Once they were convinced that I had no weapons hidden on me, I was shoved roughly across the wide deck, and stopped in front of the cabin.

  There were a dozen men on the deck, but none of them seemed particularly interested in me. Only the two men guarding the cabin stared down at me for more than a few seconds. They both towered over me, tattoos and scars splayed across their sun-darkened skin in equal measures, and I stopped myself from shaking by reminding myself that I was stronger than all of them combined.

  “Alright,” the man who'd taken my proof to Gavern said, stepping out of the cabin, sans the leg. “Gavern wants to see ya, girl.”

  The cabin was by no means small, but it was difficult to imagine any room being able to contain Gavern. For the longest time, he'd been nothing but a force of nature to me, and I expected him to be more shadow and rolling thunder than man. Yet when I stepped into the cabin, door immediately pulled shut behind me, I was greeted by a sleek, neat looking man, sat comfortably behind a desk.

  The resemblance between Gavern and Queen Nasrin was striking. The two of them must've taken after their mother. He was older than she was by a handful of years, and the gold and silver chains around his neck complimented a cloak that was far too extravagant for the weather.

  “A piece of Reis Jones,” he said, glanced down at the leg placed across his desk, and gestured for me to take a seat. “Though not the part that would've been at the top of my list.”

  I pulled the chair out without taking my eyes off of him. Why was I sitting down? Why wasn't I finishing this here and now? Behind me, Gavern's bodyguard pulled the bolt across the door, trapping me in there with the two of them. I hadn't done it yet; did that mean I couldn't do it? I clasped my hands together, certain I was going remain there, unmoving.

  “So,” Gavern said, leaning back in his chair. “You wish to betray Port Mahon. Why might this be?”

  “Because...” I bit down on the inside of my mouth, eyes skidding around the room. We were surrounded by glass cabinets, each shelf covered in intricate ornaments; silver cutlery and golden figurines; compasses placed next to pocket watches, all ticking in time with one another; gleaming coins from distant shores and uncut precious stones laid between decorative knives; but even such a wealth of distractions couldn't hold back my answer forever. “Because Canth's a mess, and Port Mahon's a bigger mess. I've been here for... for five years, now, and it hasn't got any better. I heard that you had a claim to the throne, and the Queen doesn't seem to be doing anything to help, so...

  “So I thought this would be better. For Canth.”

  The lies flowed out of me easily. Too easily. I shouldn't have been talking; I should've got it over with, by now.

  “Is that so?” Gavern asked, tapping a finger against his chin. “Why, then, do you believe you can make a difference – a real difference – when I've hundreds of men working for me?”

  “I—”

  Do it, do it, my mind screamed. Gavern's bodyguard circled me, rattling a drawer open. I glanced off to the side but Gavern clicked his fingers, forcing my attention back onto him.

  “Never mind that. Might I ask you another question?” he asked, leaning back in his seat and idly playing with one of the chains hanging around his neck.

  “Of course,” I said, fighting the urge to turn and face the man who was now standing behind me.

  “Do you think me stupid, girl?” Gavern asked in low, controlled voice. “Rumours of a Felheimish necromancer have been seeping out of Mahon this past month, and word has it said necromancer recent
ly took a trip to Chandaran. How is my dear sister, by the way? Has she grown tired of admirable poverty yet?”

  A rope cut across my chest, stopping me from leaning forward to plead the case I didn't have. He knew. Gavern knew what I was all along, and he'd let me into his cabin; he had something planned. Now was the time to do it. Now, now.

  “Stop struggling. You aren't going anywhere, girl,” Gavern said as I twisted enough in the chair to stop Gavern's bodyguard from doing anything beyond restrain me; he hadn't laid a hand on me and couldn't tie me in place if I didn't stay still. “We can put this all behind us, can't we? I do apologise for these unfortunate necessities, but I am not foolish enough to let a necromancer touch me.

  “Now. I understand that Nasrin is Queen and all, but how much are you being compensated for your services? As far as I hear, she can barely afford to pay the paltry few servants she keeps around. Does her gratitude put food in your stomach, keep a roof over your head? I propose that you work for me. I would not pass up the opportunity to have a necromancer number amongst my ranks.”

  I jolted in the chair and the bodyguard leant back. He hadn't touched me, and Gavern hadn't wanted to risk me getting my hands on him; he thought my powers depended on touch. He was getting comfortable.

  “You think I'll come work for you?” I asked, wanting to hear him out. Wanting to know how mistaken he was. Light was seeping back into me, and foolishly, I lunged forward. The rope pulled tight around me and I saw stars as something crashed against the back of my head.

  “I do. I have every confidence that you'll see things my way,” Gavern said, gesturing for his bodyguard to hand him the implement he'd stuck me with. Vision darkening before it cleared, I watched as Gavern toyed with a torch between his hands, holding it over a candle and letting the flames lap at it, growing. “Ah, look at you. All aglow. Scared, are you? Let's put it this way: you, sweetheart, are a necromancer, and this is a burning torch. One lick of these flames and you're ash.”

  “Wait a moment,” I said, slowly turning the information over in my mind. I'd gone decades without ever meeting another necromancer, and even Reis, for all their travels, hadn't met one before me. Why should Gavern be any different? Why should he have anything but rumours to work with? “You think you can kill me with that torch?”

  “Indeed,” he said, scoffing, confident he knew me better than I did. “It's like burning dry leaves, isn't it? I can only imagine how excruciating it must be. Tell me: how much of yourself are you willing to lose to the flames before seeing things my way in earnest?”

  Gavern was delighted by the cruelty of his question, but all I could say in reply was, “Oh.”

  “Oh?” he asked, and it was the last thing he ever did.

  Slumping forward, Gavern thudded against his desk in the same moment his bodyguard hit the floor. It was done, just like that, and I'd barely been aware I was doing it. I didn't know how to push death slowly into a person, if that was possible at all, and so there was no drawing it out, no seeing the stages between life and death.

  The rope fell away from me and I rose, heart pounding, skin glowing.

  No one tried breaking through the door to rush into the cabin. They hadn't heard anything untoward from inside, or if they had, they'd assumed that I was the one struggling. Pushing open the windows, I caught sight of Varn's boat, and briefly considered how best to get Gavern's body out of there. His head would be all the proof we needed, but though I'd killed him, I didn't have the stomach to hack any pieces away from him.

  The rope used to restrain me wasn't long enough to lower him towards the boat, but I didn't need it. My mind reeled back to King Jonas in his crypt, and with my eyes locked on it, Gavern's corpse sat back up. I stepped towards the window and it did too, moving easier than King Jonas' body had. There was no strain behind it, for the limits my powers had been pushed to, and the two of us moved in concert, climbing out of the window.

  I didn't hesitate and the corpse wasn't given the chance to.

  We plummeted towards the ocean, hitting it with a thud that stung my skin, and blinded by the water churning around me, I kicked my legs and clawed my way to the surface. I wasn't going to let myself drown, not now that there was a way home.

  Varn's hands wrapped around my arms as I reached the surface, and she hauled me up the side of the boat, almost dropping me back into the sea when she caught sight of Gavern trying to climb his way out of the waves.

  “Fuck!” she shouted, looking around for something to hit him with.

  “It's alright, it's alright,” I reassured her, coughing up sea water and releasing my hold on Gavern. “He's dead, Varn.”

  The corpse crumpled in on itself and Varn kicked it in the ribs; paused; kicked it again, and broke out into delighted laughter when it didn't move.

  It wouldn't take long for Gavern's men to work out what had happened – to work out that Gavern was gone, at least – but we had time enough to fly back to Port Mahon. At the sight of the body Reis confirmed to be Gavern's, we were welcomed back as heroes, and Akela did the honours. With a swing of her axe Gavern was divided in two, head left with us, body given to the town.

  It was strung up amongst corpses of the men he'd sent to assault the town, and someone brought a pig's head, freshly severed, to decorate it with. Exhausted to the point where I couldn't tell if I wanted to cheer or cry, I tried to head back to the hut, but dozens of people insisted that I stayed, that I let them buy me a drink. I glanced over at Reis and Kouris and found them smiling, fiercely proud of what I'd done and not caring in the least how I'd gone about it.

  The celebrations lasted through the night and into the morning, and it was almost midday before I managed to slip away. I'd never had so many people come up and thank me for what I'd done, despite knowing exactly what I was, and I clung to all the warmth of Mahon as I collapsed on my bed, achingly aware of how much I didn't want to leave, and how much I needed to be back in Asar.

  *

  It was dark when I awoke. I found Varn sitting in the hut, feet up on the table as Reis worked away at the other end, no doubt drawing up plans for Mahon's restoration. The sight of them both sharing the same space so contentedly made me wonder whether I was still dreaming, and I stepped out with a yawn, waving at them both.

  “About time,” Reis said. “Thought you were gonna sleep for an age.”

  “I didn't get to bed until midday,” I said, stretching my arms above my head, feeling every bone in my body crack.

  “Midday last week,” Reis said, setting their quill down.

  I glanced between Reis and Varn, wondering if this was some joke they were both in on, but it didn't feel wrong. After all I'd done, I should've been exhausted, but there wasn't even a drop of alcohol left in my blood to wreak havoc with my head and stomach.

  “Ain't nothing to worry about,” Varn reassured me. “One time, right, Kondo-Kana fell asleep in the Queen's study. You know, the place you met Her Majesty and made a right fool of yourself. Anyway, so Kondo-Kana falls asleep where the Queen works, so Her Majesty just piles up her letters and scrolls and documents on top of her when she runs out of space. That goes on for eleven days, until Kondo-Kana suddenly wakes up, knocking all of the Queen's work onto the floor. You shoulda seen it. Queen Nasrin didn't talk to her for a week.”

  I furrowed my brow, wondering how that was supposed to make me feel better, and Reis let out a hint of a laugh. I must've been asleep longer than a week, if Varn was managing to tolerate them.

  The thought of seeing Kondo-Kana again put a smile on my face, and I headed over to find something to eat as though it was just another ordinary day and Varn wasn't dying to get out of Mahon.

  As though word had spread that I was finally awake, Atthis turned up while I was still shovelling food into my mouth. He hadn't been at the celebrations, and I hadn't had time to wonder how he'd react to it all. Since waking, the only thing I'd had the presence of mind to worry about was how empty sleeping for a week had made my stomach, but Atthis d
idn't allow fear to flicker through my mind. He was smiling too widely to despise what I'd done, and I chewed my food faster, unable to say anything when he put an arm around my shoulders.

  “You did it, Rowan,” he said. “You really did it.”

  The fact that we were returning to Asar overshadowed what I'd had to do to get us this far, and I couldn't help but notice the restlessness that had consumed him. It wasn't any surprise. No doubt the others had been eager for me to wake, bags already packed.

  But there was something more to it. I looked at Atthis, wondering, and he caught my eye and said, “Ah, come. Let's speak outside.”

  I knew what he was going to say before we reached the end of the pier. I could feel his words in the way he looked at me, and only needed him to ask what he had to so that I might be given the chance to form an answer. I wrapped my arms around myself, ignoring the heat that night brought no refuge from, waiting warily as he prolonged the inevitable.

  “It's Katja,” he eventually said, having found no way around speaking her name. “Now that we know we're to leave, we were wondering what's to be done with her. Reis is willing to keep her in the jail, indefinitely, if needs be, but—”

  “We'll take her with us,” I said, not blinking. “She comes back with us.”

  Atthis frowned, wanting to ask how the words had come to me so suddenly, if not easily, and I could've trembled with relief when he didn't ask me why I insisted on taking her back to Asar with us. I didn't know. All I knew was that I couldn't stand to have an ocean between us; that far away, I wouldn't know where she was, what she was doing. Who she'd tricked into letting her walk free.

  If she went with us, if I dragged her back to Kastelir, then I could deceive myself into thinking I had some modicum of control over the situation.

  “It's your choice, Rowan,” Atthis said. “We'll stand behind it.”

  I nodded furiously, not wanting to meet his gaze.

  “I know. Just... leave with her before we go, please. I don't want to see her. I can't travel with her. Not yet,” I said, crouching on the edge of the pier, arms wrapped around my knees.