Heartscale

by Lola Ford

  You smell them? he repeated, unsure.

  Yes.

  Is it a smell from where they have traveled near before, or…?

  She cut him off again, No, I smell them now. They are probably a few minutes flight north of here.

  As she said that her wings rustled again, and it looked as if she were preparing for flight.

  Zel! Graith was desperate to calm her, Are we near your cave?

  Her eyes - normally an icy blue - where dark.

  Yes. At this speed, we are only a few more hours away. The men have left it and are near enough for me to smell them. I will go to them, burn them!

  Zel! NO! Graith shouted with his mind.

  She looked at him, her anger looking for a focus, and for a moment he was scared she would turn on him.

  Why? she asked, looking angrier by the moment - smoke was now rolling from her nostrils.

  Think about what they did to you before! You don’t want that again. You won’t be able to protect your eggs!

  Graith realized he was going to lose the argument as soon as he mentioned her eggs. She reared back, and launched herself into the sky, raining down branches as she broke through.

  Cursing, Graith motioned for Mero to follow under her, trying to keep her in sight through the thick trees. He wouldn’t leave her by herself, even if he had no skill with a weapon. She needed his help, even if it was only is his skill as a healer. He privately vowed he would heal her as many times as she needed until they were able to retrieve her eggs.

  Within minutes of her abrupt departure, he heard the screams start.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Graith

  It felt like forever as Graith tried to get to the source of the screams. In reality it was closer to ten minutes - but within five - the screams had stopped.

  Then the roars began.

  Graith had never heard anything quite like the noise the Azelia was making now, but it couldn’t be good.

  He broke through the underbrush into a clearing and stopped.

  The ground was littered with charred bodies.

  Mero even started to back up in panic. The smell of burnt flesh and hair was overpowering, nauseating.

  Graith launched himself to the ground and ran for Zel. She was on the ground, curled around something that Graith couldn’t see.

  Her roars were maddeningly loud, and he clapped his hands over his ears.

  Zel! Zel! Look at me! Graith said as he neared, wanting her to acknowledge his presence before he got any closer.

  She didn’t look up.

  Azelia! Look at me!

  This time she looked up and Graith nearly ran in the other direction.

  Her normally icy blue eyes were a molten orange. She had smoke pouring from her mouth and nostrils.

  She looked like a wild animal.

  THEY MUST ALL DIE.

  The smoke thickened, and a lash of flame escaped her maw.

  Graith retreated - terrified of the beast before him. There would be no reasoning with her at that moment. He back all the way up to Mero, never turning his back on Azelia for fear that she may strike at him. He was afraid of her for the first time in that moment.

  Once he reached the horse, he mounted the wagon and continued his retreat. He found a creek he had crossed in his haste to reach Zel and started setting up a camp. He had started a fire that was well into the second round of logs when the roars finally died down.

  However, they were immediately followed by a sharp high-pitched tone that made the hairs on the back of Graith neck stand up.

  The keening continued for the next several hours, far after the sky grew dark.

  ***

  Zel?

  Graith had tried repeatedly to reach out to the dragon in the long hours after his retreat. The sun had disappeared far below the horizon, and the sky was a pale gray quickly fading to black.

  This time though, a response came.

  A voice he nearly did not recognize said, What do you want human?

  Taken aback, Graith looked around for some sign of another dragon. The keen had stopped when the response had come, but that made Graith even more uncomfortable.

  Zel? Is that you?

  Azelia - and yes.

  She’d liked that he’d called her Zel. What had happened in that clearing that he hadn’t seen?

  Graith reached out again, as cordial and gentle as he could be.

  I apologize, Azelia. May I ask what happened?

  Anger, deep and burning filled his mind.

  He had never felt her emotions this deeply before, but it seemed she’d lost control of her telepathy. He understood that she had stayed where she was for two reasons, she was protecting something there, and protecting him from herself.

  Azelia, what did you find?

  Again, no words came, but more anger, and this time hurt.

  Then an image.

  A shattered egg, with a partially formed baby dragon.

  Graith turned his head, his stomach rolling. The hurt feeling was quickly overtaking the anger, and the strange piercing keen started again. This time he recognized as a keen of loss.

  Zel, I’m so sorry, Graith said, daring to use her nickname.

  Trying to help, he thought that if she could transmit her feelings to him, he probably could reciprocate.

  The feeling of devastation he’d felt when she’d shown him the shattered egg, the sickened feeling, and the sadness for her loss. He didn’t know how to comfort her. He’d never been a father, and her loss was unimaginable to him. But he desperately wanted her to know she wasn’t alone.

  Graith ended up stayed up all night, listening to her keen. Not speaking but staying in contact with her.

  ***

  When the first signs of dawn approached, Graith stood, shaking his weary body into action. He grabbed the saddle bag with his knife and new sewing kit and headed for the destruction filled clearing. He let Zel know without actual words that he was on his way.

  Her keening stopped.

  By the time he reached the clearing, the sun had fully risen, and Zel was still where she had been when he’d left her the day before.

  Or at least he assumed it was her - the dragon laying before him looked nothing like the Azelia he knew. She looked withered, and her scales had paled to almost white. He feared she was dead at first, as her eyes were closed, but he could see she was breathing.

  Against her pale scales, Graith could easily see where blood leaked from the few puncture wounds her wings had taken before she’d decimated the group of men. He continued to approach slowly, talking to her, fearful of startling her.

  She didn’t move.

  It was definitely Azelia - surrounded by an aura of grief.

  Graith was swept up by her emotions and tears leaked down his face. While he knew he was being affected by her despair, he truly felt dispirited too.

  Zel. I’m here.

  I know.

  The voice - different again from before but still not her normal voice - responded wearily.

  He walked up and ran a hand over her eye ridge. Simply leaning against her large head to comfort her.

  What do dragons do with their dead? he asked gently.

  Now that he was standing next to her, he was able to see the tiny body she was curled around.

  We burn them, she shuddered out after a long moment.

  Not bothering with her wounds, Graith set about finding wood for a pyre. He did so with quiet determination, for every time he thought about the unhatched dragonling, his eyes would well up with tears.

  He brought the wood back to the burnt out clearing and once he had enough, he started building the pyre. The whole time Zel did not move. She stayed curled around her lost hatchling in mourning. Once he had finished building the pyre, he stood next to Zel and cleared his throat gently.

  It’s time Zel.

  She let out a low growl. She did not want to remove herself from around the dead hatchling. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and she gav
e in after another long moment.

  Standing to her feet wobbly and reached out with her front claw to lift the tiny body. Instead of trying to hobble over to the pyre, she simply launched herself in a leap over to it. She carefully placed her hatchling upon the platform and backed up.

  Opening her great maw, she set it ablaze.

  Graith followed her retreat, and once he reached her, once again leaned against her shoulder. They stood together for hours watching the pyre burn to ashes. Where the heat from the flames brushed against Zel’s scales color returned briefly, but as cool air hit, they paled again.

  Once the fire was mere embers, and the dragonling long gone, Graith spoke again.

  “Will you tell me what happened?”

  I arrived in moments after leaving you, having flown directly to the men. Of course, I recognized them - their smell alone was enough. I started to attack as soon as I saw them, broad waves of flame.

  She shuddered, her massive frame feeling as fragile as a leaf in the wind.

  I didn’t know they had my egg. They screamed at me to get my attention. Told me to land or they would shatter my egg. I landed - yet they shattered it anyways.

  Her scales warmed in anger, and her eyes glowed orange once again.

  I killed them. All of them. I wanted to leave no trace of them behind.

  Graith thought about what she had said, then very carefully brought up a subject he knew may once again enrage the dragon.

  This means they found your eggs. They would not have taken only one.

  I know, she said - her voice sounding weary beyond words. The other four are still missing. I know not all the men who attacked me originally were in this group.

  Graith closed his eyes and scrubbed at his face. He had not eaten or drank anything since before the attack. He was weary and wanted to go back to the camp he had set up but was unsure if Zel was ready to move.

  She decided for him though, as she stood and headed off in the direction of his camp. He had forgotten once again she simply knew what he was thinking. She was about halfway there when she spoke again suddenly.

  If we go after them, they will kill all my hatchlings.

  It was a statement of fact.

  Yes. More than likely.

  What will they do with my eggs?

  Graith had been thinking about that for a while.

  I think they will either try to sell them, or take them to Lord Arish, and see if they can be tamed when they hatch. I don’t know if any dragon eggs have ever been taken alive before.

  Where is this lord of yours?

  He lives in Dunlaith, a two-day travel from my farm.

  And he is your peoples’ ruler?

  Yes and no. He is lord of the province, not the country. That would be King Oron.

  They reached the campsite and Graith dug out some food. He took three large chunks of jerky and forcibly put them into Zel’s mouth.

  You do know that I can eat by myself.

  Then chew dammit.

  She sighed but started to chew.

  After he finished eating his food, he heated some water, and started cleaning her wounds. None of the punctures were still bleeding nor did he think they required sewing shut.

  I’m so sorry for your loss Zel, Graith told her once again.

  He snuggled up against her side and she curled around him tightly. They drifted off into a restless sleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Nerie

  Nerie woke to her head throbbing and stars flashing before her eyes. She could hear loud sounds but was unable to determine what they were or where they were coming from. As she blinked the lights away, the world slowly swam into focus. The colors she had been seeing solidified into the four dragons. She was comforted slightly by the fact that the last thing she had seen and then the first that she had awoken to had been the dragons. The little gold one was sitting in a manner that reminded her of her favorite dog, except the little wings hung limply. She also was staring at Nerie with more intelligence than she thought an animal would have.

  The noises had resolved into words as well. A deep voice was having a seemingly one-sided conversation. Another higher pitched voice was screaming obscenities, and a third appeared right next to Nerie’s ear.

  “Are you all right? Your head was bleeding when they brought you in.”

  She jumped away at the sound - or she tried to, but her head and neck were the only things that moved. That scared her for a long moment, but as she wiggled her fingers and toes, it hurt - but they worked. Her body just didn’t move as fast as she would have liked. That momentary scare over, she looked at the source of the voice.

  Young Prince Aldis was sitting next to her, looking like he had been crying. His blond hair was matted, and he had dark streaks running down his face where the tears had only just stopped flowing. His beautifully made velvet outfit of navy and gold was covered in sand. Nerie couldn’t help but smile at him, he looked so disheartened. She’d always had a soft spot for younger children.

  He saw that her eyes were open and looking at him. He leaned forward and asked, “Well, are you all right?”

  “I suppose so. Everything hurts.”

  As she looked around the room, she realized she must be in the royal quarters. Fine silks hung from the stone walls, and artwork and gilded decorations were everywhere. It felt wasteful, as she lived a perfectly happy life in the middle district with none of those things.

  The roofing fascinated her, however. It was low and wide, made of large slate panels. It surrounded the courtyard that was situated in the middle. The room they were in was square, the courtyard open to the sky and large enough for the dragons to all lounge in comfortably.

  Nerie also saw the source of the two other voices. One was King Soren. He was looking at Ilex and speaking. The large green dragon was sweeping his tail in agitation. The king, now that she was closer, was younger than she expected. She supposed that made sense, as he had been twenty when he was chosen by Ilex, which would put him just into his early forties. He had a dirty blonde hair like his son, but with dark tan skin. He already had crow’s feet wrinkles around his blue eyes. Nerie imagined this was from him smiling and laughing all the time. She thought it made him look kind.

  The other voice was Princess Astra. She was screaming at the young dragoness who wasn’t even looking at her. She had dark hair like her mother, and her father’s dark gold skin. Her face was red, and she had yet to stop screaming at the dragonling. Tired of it, great orange Eras finally turned his head to her and let out a low growl. She stumbled backwards, tripping over her own skirt - letting out an ungraceful scream as she hit the ground.

  As Nerie continued to look around she saw Queen Alaena sitting off to one side. The queen looked angry, her brows furrowed, and arms crossed. She was staring at Nerie with as much intensity as the little dragonling. The dragonling who was now nudging her foot.

  Kiriga.

  Nerie wasn’t sure how she had known her name, but she had the moment the hatchling had touched her hand.

  That’s because I told it to you, a voice said in Nerie’s mind.

  She sat up in surprise, pulling the attention of the two royals not currently watching her. Astra, having gotten to her feet, paced over to Nerie. Before she could react, Astra had slapped her across the face.

  “How dare you steal my dragon! I was to be queen!”

  Nerie’s face stung, and before she could respond that she hadn’t meant to, Kiriga had launched herself at the princess.

  “Kiriga! No!”

  She hit you. That is not acceptable.

  “She’s the princess!”

  As are you!

  Nerie stood, looking between the little dragoness - who she’d pulled off the princess - and the king. Horrified.

  She had grown up not knowing her father, that was true. Her mother had been flighty when she was young, and uninterested in taking a husband. She had always told Nerie that she was the light of her life, and that she needed no one
else. Nerie looked just like her mother too - red hair and bright green eyes. Nothing like the man standing before her. He, however, was looking at Nerie with familiarity.

  “Miss - I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” he said, pausing briefly for her to answer.

  “Nerie.”

  “Nerie, we are going to need to summon your mother here. Can you tell us where to find her?”

  She numbly told them - of course Myha would be needed. A servant - who Nerie hadn’t even seen in the corner - raced out of the room. Kiriga bumped her head into Nerie’s back in support.

  “Well, while we wait, why don’t you tell us about yourself Nerie?” Soren asked, trying to break the awkward silence that had filled the room.

  She didn’t know what to say. Did she say, I’m a commoner? No, because apparently, she was not a commoner, not according to a dragon’s voice in her head. Did she say You must have cheated on the queen to be my father? That would go over really well.

  Instead she just started talking. Telling them all about her life. About Raana, and her mother, about the book shop they kept. No one said anything as she talked, and she couldn’t believe she was actually there in the royal palace.

  Every now and then a reassuring nudge on her back reminded her why she was there -because Kiriga had chosen her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Nerie

  Nerie wasn’t sure how much time passed before her mother arrived. She talked about herself for a long time. Her friends, her hobbies, her likes and dislikes. When she started talking about her mother Queen Alaena left the room. She stopped talking for a moment, but the king urged her on.

  Princess Astra was sulking on the opposite side of the courtyard, and Prince Aldis was hanging on to her every word. He seemed like the kind of soft-hearted soul that would give away his fortune if presented with the opportunity. He also had no idea what the world outside the palace was like.

  When Nerie talked about her favorite game of word association - where you say a word that started with the letter that the previous word had ended with, he had immediately wanted to play. His father had shushed him so that she could continue. When she had talked about her mother and her owning and running a shop, Aldis asked why they didn’t just have someone else run it for them. It seemed like everything she talked about he wanted to know more about.