Bloodthorn

by Tamara Grantham

  “Yes,” Fan’twar answered. “It would be wise to rest here tonight, then regroup on the morrow. Traveling up the mountain pass at night would be ill-advised.”

  “But what if the bloodthorn has already made his way up?” I asked.

  “I do not believe he has. It takes days to travel through the wilds, and several days more to travel from the elven kingdom into the pixie lands. If we are lucky, we have beaten him here,” Kull said.

  As I stared up at the mountain, tinted purple by the setting sun, I couldn’t help but feel that Kull was wrong.

  Beneath the mountain, the lights from the buildings twinkled in the distance, and we walked toward them. The chill air nipped at my face and hands, and my boots crunched over leaves and twigs as we drew closer to the town.

  Fan’twar and the other dragons stayed behind to sleep on the hillside. I hoped their presence wouldn’t cause a stir as we entered the village. Near the town square sat a small inn, a cozy place with fireplaces and washrooms in every room. We made our arrangements, found our rooms, and then prepared for bed.

  Sleep came quickly, for which I was grateful. I drifted off to the sounds of the crackling fire, praying that tomorrow would end quickly.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Wults, fairies, and elves gathered at the foot of the mountain as the sun rose. I stood with Fan’twar and the others as we looked over a map of the trails leading up the mountain, but each path stopped abruptly at the halfway point.

  “This is the boundary of Silvestra’s land,” Fan’twar said. “Anything beyond this and leading to the summit is in her domain. I do not know how we will get past this barrier. We will have to deal with the dragon somehow, and it will come at a price—if she is even willing to speak with us and won’t attempt to kill us first.”

  “We’re lucky we have you here,” I said.

  “I doubt my presence will help—in fact, it may only anger her more.”

  Kull studied the map, his eyes intense and focused. His studded leather vest conformed to his torso, and his damp hair still carried the faint scent of soap. Bloodbane was strapped to his back, its tarnished cross-guard a reminder of his Viking heritage. I tried to ignore both him and my fluttering heart but failed miserably at both, and instead I watched as he pointed out a bridge drawn on the map.

  “This is the only passage I can find that leads to the mountain’s summit. Are there no other trails?”

  “No. Only one path spans the chasm connecting the base of the mountain to its summit. The gorge here,” Fan’twar said, pointing at a jagged line drawn around the mountain, “is impossible to cross except by flight or over this bridge.”

  Prince Terminus, who stood beside me, also studied the map. “Can we not just fly to the summit and be done with bartering with the dragon?”

  “No. Her protection spell was created to deter both those who walk and those who control flight. If we are to reach the summit of this mountain, then we must cross this bridge. And the only way to do so is to get past the Silverwitch.”

  “Silverwitch?” I asked, confused. “You said she was a dragon.”

  “Silvestra is a dragon who prefers a human form, and she takes the form of a witch.”

  “Does she also possess the magical abilities of a witch?”

  Fan’twar nodded. “I am afraid so.”

  Heidel glanced at us. “A witch?”

  “It means she can wield black magic,” I said, “which makes her an exponentially powerful practitioner.”

  “Like Geth?” Heidel asked quietly.

  I only nodded. The subject of her abusive, dead ex was not a topic anyone wished to discuss.

  “What more do you know of witches?” Prince Terminus asked.

  “Not much. Most witches didn’t fare well, either on this planet or the other. They are powerful, yes. But they are also feared. And most witches on Faythander go insane.”

  The fairy princess gave me a questioning glance. “How do you know these things?” she asked.

  I cleared my throat. Admitting that my own mother was a witch was something I’d rather not divulge. I’d only recently learned the truth about my mom, and it wasn’t information that needed to be spread around, especially since the elven society had a standing order to execute witches.

  “I’ve done some research into the subject,” I answered.

  Fan’twar spoke up, changing the subject. “I do not believe it wise to fly up the mountain, for it may alert the dragon to our presence. She may see it as an act of defiance. We will travel the mountain paths with you.”

  “Will you fit on the path?” I asked.

  Fan’twar smiled, showing his teeth. “Dragons do not follow paths, they blaze their own.”

  “That’s a lovely sentiment. However, I am afraid you may destroy our paths instead of blaze them. Aren’t you afraid you might be a little too wide?”

  He huffed. “Wide?”

  “I mean no disrespect. I’m only trying to be practical.”

  “Well, you may be right. The other dragons will wait here. I shall travel up the mountain without them, and I shall tread lightly. Will that suffice?”

  “It’s a start.”

  “Very well. Shall we begin our journey up the mountain?” he asked.

  “Yes, let’s do.”

  We set off toward the mountain, falling into line one behind the other. Kull led the group and Fan’twar brought up the rear. Not long into our journey, we traded foothills for a rocky mountain path that was steep in places and gently sloping in others. Colorful fall foliage grew along our path, its woodsy scent pervading the air.

  As we climbed higher, low-lying gray clouds rolled in, blocking out the sunlight. The scent of rain filled the air, though we avoided the storm. Lightning crackled through the gathering thunderheads, echoed by a deep, drawn-out thunder that shook the mountain.

  Did the Silverwitch know we were coming?

  We paused for a quick lunch of bread, cheese, and some dried fruit, and I found myself wishing power bars had been introduced on this planet. Next time, I’d have to bring some from home. The bread was stale and crunchy, the cheese was too warm, and the fruit was flavorless, with the texture of leather. But I wouldn’t turn down the chance of nourishment—two days of going without food had taught me that lesson.

  Soon we were on the trail once again, and I did my best to keep my thoughts off Kull, even though my mind seemed to be at war with itself. On the one hand, I wished we’d never spent time together at Grandamere’s cottage. On the other hand, I wished we could have a little more time together—even five minutes.

  I realized now that I lived a half-life without him. I wasn’t sure how it had happened, but he’d become part of me—part of my thoughts, my desires, my hopes—and without him, I wasn’t whole. I wished it wasn’t that way but felt I had no control over it. I’d tried to live without him and had done so for nearly a year, but still, it wasn’t a life I cared to go back to. Yet, I knew that when this quest was over, that was exactly what would happen.

  The path grew steeper and choked with weeds, making it harder to navigate, though Kull seemed to have no problem deciding which way to go. At some points, I had to climb rather than walk. Fan’twar cheated and flew from one hilltop to another.

  The weather inexplicably changed again, the dark, ominous clouds allowing bits of sunlight to peek through until they burned away altogether. When we reached the top of the cliff, the noonday sun shone high overhead.

  I shielded my eyes as I scanned the gorge that dropped abruptly before us. Jagged rocks cut downward to a river that, from this vantage point, was only a narrow ribbon snaking along the gorge’s bottom. The canyon spanned for miles in either direction, circling the mountain, the division of our land and the dragon’s domain.

  Not far from where we stood, we found a narrow rope-and-wood-planked bridge connecting our edge of the cliff to the mountain on the other side. We walked toward the bridge, watching as it swayed in the canyon’s updraft. Wo
oden planks bounced against one another, clanking and echoing through the empty canyon.

  “Who wants to cross first?” Brodnik said with a chuckle, his red beard whipping back and forth in the wind.

  No one offered. I eyed the bridge, feeling its magic make my skin tingle. It wasn’t a dark power, but it was strong—a force that made my stomach feel queasy.

  “Look there!” one of the elves shouted, pointing into the sky.

  We followed his line of sight. A tiny silver speck glinted in the sunlight, then grew bigger as it approached us, until we were able to make out the long, elegant wings and thin neck of a dragon.

  “Silvestra,” Fan’twar growled.

  The dragon circled us, then made her descent, landing on the opposite side of the bridge. Her body morphed, skin replacing scales. Arms, legs, and torso replaced a dragon’s body until she no longer resembled a dragon, but had the body of a woman. She crossed the bridge slowly, seeming to take us all in.

  From this distance, I couldn’t get a good look at her, but as she drew closer, I gasped. To describe her was a difficult process, and I suspected magic had something do with that. There was only one way for the witch to achieve this sort of perfection—magic. She’d discovered the word for beauty. She was the first creature I’d ever known to do so, and the only one who had actually achieved it.

  Her skin was the rich, deep color of teak wood, which contrasted with her odd, completely white eyes. Her silver dress sparkled in the sunlight, tight around her neck, bodice, and arms, a second skin that then flowed loose around her legs and ankles, swishing as she walked. She was thin, but not so thin that she’d lost her shape.

  When she crossed the bridge’s centermost point, I felt the magic fluctuate. She’d crossed the barrier from her own lands into ours.

  Something about her hands looked odd, and I couldn’t decide why until she got a bit closer. Her head, torso, and arms, were covered in silver scales, and her hands ended in claws instead of fingers. Oddly, I still couldn’t find a single trait unattractive, and I knew the spell must be at work. I also noted that her eyes were actually a light teal green, almost indistinguishable from the whites of her eyes.

  She approached until she was just shy of the ground and then stopped, still on the bridge.

  “Fan’twar,” she said with a smile that revealed her white teeth, contrasting with her dark, scarlet lips.

  “Silvestra,” the sky king said with a deep bow of his head.

  “I am surprised to see you here. I had supposed I would never see you again. What brings you to my mountain?”

  “You do not know?”

  “Humor me,” she said.

  “The fugitive from the undiscovered land hides in your kingdom. Are you not aware of his presence?”

  “I am aware of him. Yet, because of his nature, I am unable to touch him. Mortals, however,” her shrewd eyes scanned each of us, “are not welcome in my land.”

  “Even to stop the fugitive?” Prince Terminus asked.

  She stared at the prince before answering. “I allow none of your kind into my kingdom. This is the way it has always been.”

  “But he has taken our stone,” the princess said. “Will you not allow us inside?”

  “I will not. My kingdom is forbidden to outsiders.”

  “Perhaps a bargain?” Fan’twar asked.

  “No. You have nothing I desire. Go.”

  She turned to leave when Fan’twar spoke up.

  “I find it hard to believe we have nothing you desire. We are elves, Wults, dragons, and fairies. We bring treasures from many lands. You have lived many years and collected many treasures, but you do not have them all.”

  She looked over her shoulder. “Are you sure you desire to ask such a thing of me, Sky King? You know what tastes I have.” Her lips curled into a smirk.

  “I am aware of your dragon horde, which is why I only come here under the direst of circumstances. We will trade what you desire in order to reach the mountain’s summit.”

  The witch seemed to mull over his statement. Her sea-green eyes sparkled when she turned her gaze on us, almost as if seeing us for the first time.

  “Do you give me your word, Fan’twar? I may choose from among these mortals what my treasure will be, realizing that my price may be more than they can pay?”

  “My word is given.”

  She laughed quietly. “After so many years, now he comes begging at my doorstep.”

  Stepping off the bridge, she circled our group slowly. Her magic brushed against mine, licking, testing, trying to determine the extent of my powers. I drew away from her as she stepped closer to me.

  “You carry a magical box?” she asked.

  I hesitated. Instinctively, I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t part of any bargain, but I thought better of it. “I do.”

  She only nodded and didn’t press the issue further. “There is something else you carry—a scroll?”

  I swallowed. No one was supposed to know about the goblin scroll. It was the only history that existed of the gray elves before they became goblins, and I’d promised Xanthocus, a goblin spirit, that I would keep it safe. Perhaps I could part with my mirror, but not the scroll.

  “I cannot part with it,” I said, fully expecting her wrath. She only studied my face, and I couldn’t meet her gaze. There was something wholly unnatural about the creature, something that set me on edge.

  She sighed, then walked past me. “Very well. I have no use for history.”

  I stared after her. She would drop the subject just like that? As she circled the group, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of urgency. We really didn’t have time for tedious negotiations, but until the witch decided what she wanted from us, there was nothing I could do about it.

  She questioned several of the elves gathered in our group but seemed bored by every item they carried, until she stopped by the fairy princess.

  Her eyes glittered with a look of lustfulness. “Fairy,” she hissed, then reached out with her clawed hand and ran her fingers through the girl’s hair. “You have a treasure I desire. Will you give it to me?”

  The princess visibly shook. “Do you desire my magic?”

  “Yes. I have never felt such a power so pure, so innocent, so untainted. Your magic is like a nectar. I would make good use of it. You’ve nothing to fear from me.” Silvestra gently ran her fingers along the girl’s neck. I cringed.

  If Silvestra took the princess’s magic, and if she survived the process of having her magic removed, the girl would be stuck in her human form forever. I’d seen how hard it was for her to remain in human form, and I knew that if the witch took the girl’s magic, she would also be taking her purpose for living.

  “No.”

  Prince Terminus stepped forward, and I’d never seen him look so determined. With fisted hands, he faced the witch.

  “I will not allow you to take my sister’s magic.”

  A look passed between the witch and the prince. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  “There must be something else you desire,” the prince said.

  “I have seen what you brought me. I want only this.”

  “No!” Terminus shouted. “You shall not take her magic!”

  I’d never seen him so upset.

  “Brother, it is all right. I will sacrifice my magic if it means we will have our stone once again.”

  “Esmelda, no. You can’t!”

  Green dragon magic crackled around the witch, and soon, streaks of black mingled with it. To successfully control two different magics was an incredible feat, one that gave her unbelievable power. No wonder I had such trouble being in her presence.

  “Release your power to me,” Silvestra said to the fairy princess.

  Terminus grabbed his sister’s hand. “Esmelda, do not do this. Believe me when I say that the witch cannot be trusted. If you deal with her, it will not be as you expect.”

  The princess stood resolutely, and although I saw tears forming in h
er eyes, she stood tall. “How would you know such a thing, Brother, unless you have dealt with her before?”

  “Because… I have heard. I only have heard the rumors…”

  “Rumors?” She turned to him. “No one is aware of this creature in our village, or in any villages I know of—not even the humans were aware of her presence. So how would you know of her?”

  Prince Terminus’s face visibly paled. “I speak only of what I have been told.”

  “Do you?” Her voice quivered with emotion, yet still she stood tall. “Tell me, how was the bloodthorn able to conjure the flowers?”

  “What?”

  “The flowers. Flowers from both Earth and Fairy were found in the corpses’ eyes—flowers that the bloodthorn could not have created himself, for he used only dark magic, and I was not aware that he could create beauty. Yet somehow, flowers that you have conjured before—in fact, the very same species that you have conjured many times before—appeared in the eyes of the slain humans.”

  “Sister… ” he whispered, “it was a mere coincidence.”

  “And then, when our friends encountered the beast in the unicorn forest, they could not understand how such a creature could appear in our world, yet I know how. I remember when you left our forest for months at a time. I saw the scars only a creature of darkness could have inflicted—marks that appeared on your skin.”

  The prince didn’t answer.

  “Is this true?” Heidel asked.

  “Yes,” the princess said. “He met a girl from the woodland elf tribe many years ago. She tainted him and begged him to journey with her. I did not know where they went, but now I know.” She sighed, pressing her eyes closed. “He and the girl were responsible for allowing the bloodthorn and spider creature to escape the undiscovered land.”

  Kull turned to the prince. “Is this true?”

  The prince stared at the ground. “I sought only to help the girl. I did not know the full extent of my actions until it was too late.”

  “Who is she?” Kull asked.

  “At one time, she was the protector of the unicorns’ stone. But she, like the guardian before her, saw dark visions in the pool she guarded, and the creatures that appeared there tainted her with their whispers. I guarded the fairies’ stone, and I saw visions in the pool I guarded, as well. I ignored them for a time, until the elven girl appeared and begged me to help her set the creatures free. She changed me—she made me immune to the starstone’s power so that I was able to use dark magic.”