by JA Andrews
23
Tomkin scrambled up and ran to the window. The sun was peeking warily over the horizon. Off to the south, winging its way down the Great River, was the light orange dragon.
Tomkin sank back against the side of the window, his body flooding with relief.
“It worked!” Mags leaned out the window and watched Vorath disappear into the dim morning light. She turned to Tomkin. “That was brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!”
Tomkin grinned at her. “I can’t believe you were going to make the castle fall off the cliff!” He looked around quickly. “It’s not going to, is it?”
Mags shook her head, her own grin wide. “Saying Wink shrank some of the stones might have been a slight exaggeration. He did figure out which ones he would need to shrink, should it be necessary.”
Tomkin laughed. “Again with the lies.” He turned to look at the brightening world. Morning light set the tops of the hills afire with glowing green grass and left the valleys drenched in darkness. Cool air swirled in the windows, smelling fresh with the newness of the day. He felt light enough to float into the sky.
“It’s beautiful,” Mags said, standing next to him.
Tomkin hesitated a moment, then put his arm around her shoulders.
She grabbed his hand and looked up at him, concerned. “Are you still dizzy?”
“Um…no.” He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Is that okay?”
She tensed under his arm and he began to draw it back, but she held on to his hand.
“It’s okay.” She looked back at the sunrise.
Tomkin tried to relax his arm, but it didn’t seem to be listening to him.
She gave a little shrug. “It’s not surprising that even without a head injury, you still need help standing.”
Tomkin snorted a little laugh. Mags slid her arm around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. She felt so small beneath his arm, but so steady.
“You’re a very solid girl,” he said.
She flashed a smile at him.
“…when you’re not being delusional.”
She nudged his leg with her hip. “You’re quite brave. For a boy who’s dim.”
Tomkin looked out over the hills to the east. The birds across the river were singing their tiny hearts out as though this were the first morning on earth. He could stand here forever.
Except moments never did last forever. He was exhausted, and hungry, and at some point they would need to leave this window and…
“Lissa,” Tomkin said finally, “I understand why you left Greentree. If you don’t want me to tell them you’ve gone to the Scale Mountains, I won’t. I’ll find a way to call off the agreement our parents made.” He glanced at her. “It’s got to be easier to end an engagement than to chase off a dragon.”
“You would think,” she said, still looking out the window.
He felt the rise and fall of her shoulders beneath his arm. “But someday, when you feel comfortable returning, will you come find me? I’m going to see if I can convince my father to let me rebuild this castle and live here. It’s close enough to the holding that I can get there easily to help, and most of the work I do for him is paperwork anyway. Which I can do from here….”
She was quiet for a long time.
Tomkin swallowed. “I understand if you don’t want to think about coming back.”
She shook her head and looked at him. “I’m not going to the Scales,” she said at last. “It’s time my father and I talked.”
Tomkin felt his heart beat a little faster, and hoped she couldn’t feel it too.
“And…,” She paused for a long moment. “…maybe we shouldn’t end the engagement quite yet.”
He tried to keep his arm perfectly still. It felt weirdly wooden. “No?”
She shrugged again. “I had always hoped to marry an intelligent man, but I think you might have some good qualities. Hiding deep, deep inside of you.”
Tomkin smiled. “You want to marry me.”
“Maybe. Someday in the far future. I’m certainly not ready to marry you today—”
“That’s good, because you’re far too dirty for a wedding.”
She laughed and continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “—but maybe we should leave the agreement in place for a bit. At least take some time to hammer out the details of it. Like the fact that we would have to be given this castle. And how Wink would come with me instead of staying with my family.” She looked up at him, biting her lip. “Unless you’d still rather fight a dragon than marry me?”
Tomkin snorted. “Sweet heavens, no! It turns out fighting a dragon is hard. And terrifying. Even more terrifying than you.”
She smiled. “You’re going to miss having a dragon around, aren’t you?”
Tomkin squeezed her shoulder. “I think I still do.”
She jabbed her shoulder into his side. “Let’s get out of here. Wink made a little doorway in the castle wall near the lake. We can get out there.”
Tomkin looked at her. “He made a doorway. In the castle wall.”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“How long did that take him?”
A little smile crept across her face. “A few minutes.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “That would have been useful last night.”
A giggle escaped her before she clamped her lips shut. She nodded. “I know.”
The laugh that rose in Tomkin grew, eating up all the terror of the night, until it burst out and echoed throughout the great hall, mingling with Mags’. Tomkin turned them away from the window. Picking up Scalebreaker and still laughing, the two headed toward the stairs that would lead them out.
From the bailey, Tomkin could see the small archway cut through the castle wall. It only came up to his waist, but through it he could see the grass outside. “Wink’s going to need to make the back door a lot bigger.”
Mags rolled her eyes. “You’re welcome.”
She knelt to crawl through.
“Mags,” he said, and she paused. “I know Greentree is not the same direction as Marshwell from here. But if you wanted to come to Marshwell with me first, we could…find some horses. And I could ride with you to Greentree…as some sort of escort or something.”
She raised one eyebrow at him.
“To make sure you don’t move in with any dragons you find along the way.”
She laughed. “As long as you don’t bring a sword.”
“Agreed. And maybe after that we can take a trip to Queenstown. I’ve never been to court, but I hear Princess Ellona hasn’t been treating my future wife very well.”
Mags rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure a stern talking-to from you will fix things.” She turned and crawled out of the castle.
“I defeated a dragon!” Tomkin called out through the arch.
Mags’ laugh came back in. “You denuded a dragon.”
“Are you saying that’s what I should try with the princess?”
“Will you come on?” Mags said, still laughing that bright laugh. “You’ve been trying to get out of this castle all night. What’s the holdup?”
Tomkin looked around at the bailey and the keep and the stairs to the great hall. Amidst the morning light and the echoes of laughter, the ruins felt alive with possibilities. He thought of Mags’ drawing. Yes, Colbreth Castle would be perfect.
What better place was there for two dragon conquerers to live out their days?
The Ever After
Lulu gazed up at Keeper Will from where she sat at his feet. His voice had stopped, and beside the crackle of the fire, the quiet hung in the air of the inn like a living thing. She couldn’t bear to break the silence, but the question burst out anyway.
“Did they live happy, to the end of their days?”
Will smiled at her. “Castle Colbreth, with the help of Wink, was turned into one of the finest castles in the land. Tomkin Thornhewn made his home there, along with his wife, Lady Lissa of Marshwell.”
/> A spattering of cheers echoed in the common room.
“They visited the royal court two times.”
“The first time, Tomkin was knighted for his valor in defense of the realm. Back in those days, there was nothing similar to knighting for women, but Tomkin negotiated with the king, until His Majesty bestowed upon Mags the title of Lady Lissa, The Dragon Charmer.
“A title which Tomkin was fond of shortening to The Dragon.”
He waited until the clapping and cheers died down.
“The details of Tomkin’s negotiations with the king were never publicly released. But less than a year later, Tomkin and The Dragon visited Queenstown for their second trip. This time to witness the marriage of Princess Ellona to the elderly, malodorous King of Coastal Baylon, sealing a treaty of peace between the two lands.”
Will paused again for hoots of approval. He looked down at Lulu with a thoughtful expression.
“I cannot say, Lulu, that Tomkin and The Dragon lived happily to the end of their days, because happiness is trickier than that. They had plenty of hard days, and plenty of sad days, but they did try to be kind to each other. And kindness takes you a long way on the path to happiness. So I think it is safe to say Tomkin and The Dragon lived, on the balance, happy-ish to the end of their days.”
The inn erupted in cheers. Keeper Will bowed his head in acknowledgement.
Lulu looked at the flower in her fingers. Flashes of orange scales danced in her mind—the huge, fiery dragon, Tomkin and Lissa standing tall before it. The magic of the flower and the magic of the story swirled together, catching her up and twirling her thoughts around.
Keeper Will leaned forward and asked in a confidential voice, “What did you think of my story?”
“I loved it.” Lulu grinned up at him. “Will you tell it again?”
* * *
THE END
Afterword
Thank you for reading A Keeper’s Tale: The Story of Tomkin and the Dragon. I hope it was as fun to read as it was to write. If you enjoyed it and have the time to leave a review, I would appreciate it. A review is worth more to an author than an entire army of warriors would have been to Tomkin around chapter 18.
If you have the time to leave a review, you can click here.
Read more about the Keepers and their stories in The Keeper Chronicles.
The series begins with A Threat of Shadows. You can find it and other books of mine on my website at jaandrews.com.
You can read chapter one of A Threat of Shadows at the end of this book.
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(Turn to the next page to read chapter one of A Threat of Shadows.)
A Threat of Shadows - Ch 1
The deeper Alaric rode into the woods, the more something felt… off. This forest had always fit like a well-worn cloak. But tonight, the way the forest wrapped around felt familiar, but not quite comfortable, as though it remembered wrapping around a slightly different shape.
“This path used to be easier to follow,” Alaric said to his horse, Beast, as they paused between patches of summer moonlight. Alaric peered ahead, looking for the trail leading to the Stronghold. He found it running like a scratch through the low brush to the right. “If the Keepers weren’t too meek to hold grudges, I’d think the old men were hiding it from me.”
All the usual smells of pine and moss and dirt wove through the air, the usual sounds of little animals going about their lives, but Alaric kept catching a hint of something different. Something more complicated than he wanted to deal with.
Around the next turn, the trail ran straight into a wide tree trunk. Alaric leaned as far to the side as he could, but he couldn’t see around it. “I could be wrong about the Keepers holding grudges.”
Well, if they didn’t want him at the Stronghold, that was too bad. He didn’t need a warm welcome. He just needed to find one book with one antidote. With a little luck, the book would be easy to find and he could leave quickly. With a lot of luck, he’d get in and out without having to answer anyone’s questions about what he’d been doing for the past year.
Beast circled the tree and found the path again, snaking out the other side. As his hooves thudded down on it, a howl echoed through the woods.
The horse froze, and Alaric grabbed the pouch hanging around his neck, protecting it against his chest. He closed his eyes, casting out past the nearest trees and through the woods, searching for the blazing energy of the wolf. He sensed nothing beyond the tranquil glow of the trees and the dashing flashes of frightened rabbits.
“That’s new.” Alaric opened his eyes and peered into the darkness.
A louder howl broke through the night. Beast shuddered.
“It’s all right.” Alaric patted Beast’s neck as he cast farther out. The life energy of an animal as large as a wolf would be like a bonfire among the trees, but there was nothing near them. “It’s not wolves. Just disembodied howls.” He kept his voice soothing, hoping to calm the animal.
“That didn’t sound as reassuring as I meant it to. But a real wolf pack wouldn’t keep howling as they got closer. If we were being tracked by wolves, we wouldn’t know it.”
Beast’s ears flicked back and forth, alert for another howl.
“Okay, that wasn’t reassuring, either.” Alaric nudged him forward. “C’mon we’re almost to the Wall.”
A third howl tore out of the darkness right beside them.
Beast reared back, whinnying in terror. Alaric grabbed for the saddle and swore. He pressed his hand to Beast’s neck.
“Paxa,” he said, focusing energy through his hand and into Beast. A shock of pain raced across Alaric’s palm where it touched the horse, as the energy rushed through.
Mid-snort, Beast settled and stood still.
Alaric shook out his hand and looked thoughtfully into the woods. This wasn’t about a grudge, or at least the howls weren’t directed at him. Any Keeper would know there were no wolves. Even one as inadequate as he would know there was no energy, no vitalle, behind the sounds. So what was the purpose of it? The path had never been like this before.
With Beast calm, Alaric set him back into a steady walk. Two more howls rang out from the woods, but Beast ambled along, unruffled. Alaric rubbed his still-tingling palm.
Beast paused again as the trail ran into another wide tree.
Alaric growled in frustration. The path to the Keepers’ Stronghold shouldn’t be this troublesome for a Keeper.
Unless it no longer recognized him as one. That was a sobering thought.
As they skirted around the tree, a white face thrust itself out of the trunk. Alaric jerked away as the hazy form of a man leaned out toward him. When the figure didn’t move, Alaric reined in Beast and forced himself to study it. It held no life energy, it was just an illusion—like the wolves.
The figure was a young man. He had faded yellow hair and milky white skin. Once the initial shock wore off, the man was not particularly frightening.
“What are you supposed be? A friendly ghost?” Alaric asked.
It hung silent on the tree. Alaric leaned forward and backward, but the ghost remained still, staring off into the woods.
“The howls were more frightening than you.” Alaric set Beast to walking again.
“You are lost,” the ghost whispered as he passed.
Alaric gave a short laugh. “I’ve been lost many times in my life, but this isn’t one of them. And if it’s your job to scare people off, you should consider saying something more chilling and less…depressing.”
Beast kept walking, and Alaric turned to watch the ghost fade into the darkness behind them.
A rasp pulled his attention forward. Another white form slid out of the t
ree they were approaching. This one was a young woman. She was rather pretty, for a ghost.
“Hello.” Alaric gave her a polite nod.
“You have failed,” she whispered. “You have failed everyone.”
Alaric scowled. The words rang uncomfortably true.
Alaric stopped Beast in front of the ghost. Behind the woman’s face, Alaric saw thin, silver runes carved on the bark. He couldn’t read them through the ghost, but he didn’t need to. Narrowing his focus, he cast out ahead of them along the trail, brushing against the trunks with his senses. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he felt the subtle humming runes dotting the trees ahead.
Alaric sat back in the saddle. This wasn’t what he expected from the Keepers. The old men protected their privacy like paranoid hermits, but they’d never tried to scare people away before. Of course, these ghosts weren’t frightening. If the Keepers were going to make ghosts, these are the kind they would make.
Years ago, during his “Defeat by Demoralization” lesson, Keeper Gerone had declared, “Control the emotions, control the man!” Gerone was probably responsible for the depressing ghosts.
The ghost runes were on almost every tree now, faces appearing every few steps.
“Your powers are worthless,” the next whispered and Alaric flinched.
“It’s your fault,” another rasped. “All your fault.”
Alaric clenched his jaw and stared ahead as the whispers surrounded him.
When he passed close to one large tree, a ghost thrust out close to him. Alaric turned toward it and saw his own face looking back at him. A pale, wasted version of himself. His black hair was faded to a lifeless grey, and his skin, far from being tanned from traveling, was bleached a wrinkly bone white. Only his eyes had stayed dark, sinking from a healthy brown to deep, black pits.
Alaric stared, repulsed, at the withered apparition of himself—it was decades older than his forty years. The ghost looked tired, a deep crease furrowed between its brows. Alaric reached up and rubbed his own forehead.
