by Scott King
Gideon rolled his eyes. He set his sword back down then popped open the travel sacks.
"That was disgusting." Doug pinched his right nostril shut and blew out the left, shooting a wad of mud into the pool. "All I can smell now is dirt. Grimy dirt with things moving and growing in it."
Doug was not like other dragons she had come across. He might be able to offer some insight into what they were dealing with.
"I was in Bryton when the city fell," Alex said.
"You didn't tell me that," Gideon said.
"I didn't want you to know," she said. "But I want Doug to know. I witnessed a dragon attack firsthand. I saw a schoolhouse collapse with children inside. I saw people in flames running down the street. Their skin blackened and cracked as their bodies broke down becoming ashes."
Of the all the tragedies Alex had witnessed in or out of court and in life, what had happened in Bryton nearly broken her. Remembering the horrors caused her heart to quicken and her breath to grow short. She could smell burning flesh and feel grimy soot on her arms, knowing that it used to be people. People she had failed to save.
Alex's eyes watered, but she didn't cry. Doug must have noticed because he slouched and looked away from her as if he were the one embarrassed.
"I didn't do that. I didn't hurt anyone," Doug said. "I've not seen another dragon in years."
Alex sat and slipped off her boots. As much as Gideon might want to get moving, they weren't going anywhere till they had dry shoes. "Maybe you can help us. Arwyn and the Freelands have been overrun with dragons. Not dragons capable of speech or thought, like you, but demonspawn, intent on killing."
Doug looked northeast then back at Alex. "I don't know why it's happening."
"What about Kane?" Alex said. "Why did she want to kill you?"
"I don't know that either," Doug said.
"Kane wanting to kill you and the dragons attacking. They have to be connected. It's too strange not to be." Alex pointed to Doug's boots. "Off with them. You need to let them dry before we can get going."
Doug sat on a log that was particularly moss-free and took off his shoes.
"We have at least two days' worth of food if we are careful." Gideon shut the travel sacks and folded them shut. "We have maybe a day of water."
"What about an agyl?" Doug asked. "Jack made one to create water."
"That is not where my skills lie," Gideon said. "Alex can't do them either. We will have to follow the stream south. If Carter wakes up, he can always supply us with some."
Carter had saved their lives, and now the boy looked dead. They needed to dry him off and do what they could to care for him.
Alex unlaced Carter's boots. His skin was cold to the touch, like an agyl-powered ice box. She lifted the lids of his eyes, and his steel-blue pupils held their size, failing to contract in the sunlight. She didn't know much about the medical arts, but she knew that wasn't good.
"Doug, why are the two of you going to Compitum?" Alex asked.
"I don't think you need to know that." Doug fidgeted on the log. "But it's nothing bad. We aren't trying to harm anyone."
"Gideon?" She knew Gideon well enough to know he must have figured it out by now.
"They are going to see the Oracle," Gideon said. "And if I had to guess, I would say Doug wants to find out how to become a dragon again.
The Oracle. She had heard her father mention the Oracle, often in passing or in hushed tones. The Oracle was said to possess insight about a person and the events of their lives. If that were true, if the Oracle could foresee what was to come, then maybe they knew how to stop the dragon attacks. "Doug, I like your plan. Gideon and I will escort you to Compitum."
"Alex." Gideon said her name as if giving a warning. "I'm under strict orders to bring you back to Elene."
"And only a few minutes ago," Alex said, "you didn't have a preference if we went through or around Compitum."
"The Oracle is different," Gideon said. "Your father–"
"My father is not here," she said. "My father is at home in his palace sitting behind his walls while his kingdom burns."
"The Oracle is dangerous," Gideon said. "Your father and I have dealt with her in the past. I fear what path she may put you on should you speak to her."
Gideon was not one prone to lying. Alex couldn't think of a single time when he had lied to her. Not told her the full truth sure, but never a flat-out lie. That meant the Oracle truly was dangerous, and yet, what choice did she have?
Owen, the greatest magician in the land hadn't been able help her stop the dragons. Maybe this Oracle could and if it was dangerous then so be it.
It took a quarter of the day for Alex's clothes to dry and even longer for Gideon's boots. Once all the companions gear had dried, they left the pool, heading south. Gideon created a makeshift sling from the travel bedding in Doug's bags. They used it to strap Carter to Doug's back. The former dragon had some sort of enhanced strength, and he could carry the injured boy without much trouble, though they had to make frequent stops to allow Doug to catch his breath.
Hours before sunset, Gideon suggested they make camp. He pointed out that as long as they didn't make a fire they were too deep into the forest for anyone to track them.
They set up camp on a rocky knoll surrounded by blackberry bushes. Gideon cleared a space for everyone deep inside the thorny tangles and explained that the brambles would deter any of the mountain creatures.
The companions had two bedrolls among them. One was dedicated for Carter. Gideon said he would sleep on the ground, and although Alex wanted the other bedroll, she didn't want Doug to think she was acting unpoxed, so she let him have it.
For dinner, they ate blackberries and shared grain bars that Owen had packed in Carter's sack. They were dry and tasted like dirt, but at least they had filled their stomachs.
Sleep didn't come easily for Alex. The forest was a cornucopia of sound. The constant trickle of the stream. The hoots of owls. The crunching of branches and twigs. With every noise, Alex reached for her sword, sure that someone or something was coming to kill them.
When she was unable to take it anymore, Alex pulled a small agyl orb from her belt pouch. The device was no bigger than a peach, and its surface was a milky amber. She shook it, and the object emitted a soft, yellow light.
"Get some sleep," Gideon whispered. "I'll stay up. You know you are safe with me here."
"I'm tired," she said.
"Then sleep."
"Not that kind of tired. I'm tired of being on the run. Tired of searching for answers and not finding any."
Gideon laughed.
Actually laughed. Mr. Cool-as-Stone chuckled at her expense! "That's a bit rude."
"I'm not laughing at you," he said. "I was thinking about your father when he was your age, well a bit younger. He and I had a very similar conversation."
"Dad was worried about the kingdom?"
"No, I was." Gideon crept closer and hiked up his left sleeve. A curved scar ran across the bottom of his bicep. "We were hunting a blood cult, and I was bitten by... I still don't know exactly what it was. Whatever it was bit my arm, and my arm turned chalk white. I was feverish, and if I died, I knew your father wouldn't make it either. He had a broken leg from a bad fall."
"Dad has never told me this story."
"I'm sure he didn't. You see, we were debating if we should amputate my arm, and then he stood up, hopping on his good leg, and skittered deeper into the cave system. No explanation. No words of confidence. He just left me alone in the dark."
"That doesn't sound like Dad."
"Well, wait for it... an hour passes. Then another. I hear several sets of footsteps, and your dad shows up with the blood magician and three other cultists. Your father demands proof of their dark magic. He says if they show that The Silver Lady is a falsehood, that she wasn't real, then he will turn Elene over to them!"
"He did not!"
"He did."
"No wonder Dad never told me."
"What did Dad do?"
"He said he was belittled by their power and was so moved that he was going to make me the first blood sacrifice to their twisted cause. The cultists bowed, chanting, and your father raised his sword to behead me."
"I see where this is going now."
"Well yeah, instead of killing me, he pretended to trip, playing it off as his broken leg. He swung the sword and decapitated the cult leader. It was a mess. The thing about blood magicians is that their bodies can hold an obscene amount of blood. It gushed from his neck like a fountain. The cave walls dripped blood, and all the other cultists were dumbstruck. I think maybe none of the underlings knew any actual magic."
"So what happened then?"
"We put an end to the cult, but I still felt uneasy. Maybe it was the magic or the thing that bit me, but I always felt as if we had never truly done what we were supposed to do. On the journey home, I couldn't sleep, and finally one night, your father looks at me and says 'If you can't gorphing sleep, then at least start cooking breakfast so I can wake up to a hot meal.'"
Gideon broke into another round of laughter.
Alex laughed too. Not at the joke. It was a bad joke, even by her father's standards, but that was Gideon's humor. It was nice to see that, after all he had survived, he still had a sense of humor.
"So your point," Alex said, "is that I either need to shut up and sleep or that I should start cooking?"
Gideon cackled and made a snorting sound.
Doug stirred and lifting his head off the bedroll. He leaned over, checking Carter's breathing and then sat up to stare at Alex and Gideon. He let out a yawn and then smacked his lips. "I'm hungry. Did we have any extra berries, or is it almost breakfast?"
Alex and Gideon laughed louder.
By breakfast, Carter showed no signs of improving. His temperature rose, and instead of feeling cold to the touch like it had before, his skin burned like an infected wound. His shirt and pants clung to his skin, drenched in sweat, and no matter how they tried to give it to him, he wouldn't keep down any water or food.
With Carter's condition worsening, moving camp didn't make sense, so they stayed in the bramble patch, which allowed them food and easy access to water.
Noon came, and with it Carter's body convulsed. Gideon recommended shoving a stick in the boy's mouth to keep him from biting off his tongue. The only thing that calmed Carter was the coolness of the mountain stream.
Doug's loyalty to Carter confounded Alex.
The former dragon meticulously cared for the boy. Twice Carter crapped himself, and to Alex's surprise, it was Doug who dealt with it. He didn't say a word or complain. He merely hefted Carter into his arms and carried him to the stream.
From camp, Alex watched as Doug once more waded into the water with Carter.
"Do you think Carter will live?" Alex asked Gideon, hoping Doug was far enough away to not over hear the answer.
Gideon ran a greasy rag up and down his long sword. He had made sure to oil Alex's first.
"I told you yesterday," he said, "it's magic. He will die or not die. Little we can do."
"How do you know?"
"I've seen Owen like this. Maybe not quite this bad. Well, maybe once."
"Why is it happening in the first place?" she asked.
"Magic has a cost. You think someone can do what Carter did on that cliff and not have consequences?"
"What about agyls? I've seen workers draw them all day without being effected." She pulled out her glow orb and shook it. "This has lasted years without breaking."
"Agyls are a different kind of magic."
"Dad has told me countless stories of you, him, and Owen going on adventures. Then there are accounts of what happened on the Crimson Plains. I knew Owen's magic was different, but I guess I always thought the extent of that difference was exaggerated."
"Magic is easy for us non-magicians to understand." Gideon held up his sword, catching it in a ray of light that fell through the tall trees. He spun it, and she knew he was checking to make sure every speck of its surface had been properly treated. "Agyls are tools that the educated person can use to manipulate the world around them. Agyls have limitations, and to create things like your lamp, it takes multiple aglys drawn and–"
"I know what agyls can do."
"Hear me out," Gideon said. "Think of higher magic, the stuff that Carter and Owen can do, as the same thing as agyls, only instead of using tools, they manipulate the world directly. Theoretically, if Carter had planned and had enough time, he could have drawn thousands of agyls to summon the wind like he did. Instead he did it directly without tools. He forced the air to his will. That kind of power takes a toll."
"How do we lessen the toll?"
"You can't. All we can do is wait."
"I don't like waiting," Alex said. "I don't like sitting here and feeling powerless. We have to do something."
"Haven't you done enough?" Gideon propped his sword up against the base of a bramble root and turned to face Alex.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"This. All of this. Our being here is because you decided that you had to be the one to do something. You couldn't trust that your father had things under control."
"He didn't." Alex stood. She had no desire to hear a lecture she had heard a dozen times already.
"Don't walk away," Gideon said.
"I'm going to see if Doug needs any help." She ducked, and shuffled through the cut brambles and made her way to the bottom of the hill. On the bank of the stream, a slight breeze nipped at her cheeks, and she pulled her travel cloak tighter around her body.
Doug must have heard her approach because, before she was more than fifteen parses from the water, he looked up at her. "Everything alright?"
"Yes," she said. "How is he doing?"
Doug stood waist deep in the water with one hand cupped in the small of Carter's back. With the other hand, he splashed armfuls of water against Carter's legs and thighs, cleaning up the latest mess.
"I don't know enough about human bodies," Doug said. "I can smell that something is off. I can hear his innards moving slow. I do not know if he is getting better or worse. I hope it is better."
"I hope so too," she said.
12
Grekers
Ornsday, 14th of Hearfest, 1162.111
After two more days of being trapped at the same camp, Carter finally awoke. He was borderline delirious and only kept consciousness for an hour or so, but Gideon said it was a sign that the boy would make a full recovery and that it was safe to move him again.
By the fifth day, Carter could walk on his own and even though he had been at death's door, he seemed energetic and excited about their journey. Too excited. It grated on Alex's nerves so much so that she found herself walking side by side with Doug to avoid having to answer childish questions.
That night they made camp in a cave. Gideon and Doug said it was clear of nasties, and for the first time since they had been traveling together, they made a fire. Curled up against a rock, Alex held out her hands, letting the flames warm her fingers. She thought travel before had been rough, but making do with no supplies was a new low, and something so simple as being warm was a luxury she didn't mind indulging.
"What's it like being a princess?" Carter lay on his stomach, using a stick to sketch runes or some strange language she didn't recognize.
"I don't know." She wondered if his questions would ever stop. "What is it like to be a magician?"
Carter missed the sarcasm in her voice because he sat up and looked at her with glee. "I've never been anything else. I always knew I would grow up and do magic. It's who I am.
"
"Then you know what it's like to be a princess. I've been a princess my whole life, and because of that, I don't know what it means to not be a princess."
"But you get to live in a cool castle and go on crazy adventures, right?"
"She tries," Gideon slouched against the cave wall with his eyes closed. His turn for watch was but a few hours away. "Don't stay up late tonight. If we push hard tomorrow, we might get out of this forest and reach the plains."
Gideon shifted his weight and turned his back to them. Alex couldn't tell if he was going to sleep or merely trying to give them privacy.
"What does he mean, Alex?" Carter asked. "How can you try to go on adventures? Don't you either have one or you don't?"
"I'm lucky if I get an hour to myself," she said. "I train daily with Gideon. Then there are meetings, social calls with visiting dukes or emissaries from the other kingdoms, not to mention my classes at the university and other household responsibilities."
"Your parents make you do all of that?"
"My father is busier than I am. I don't know how he has time to sleep."
"What about your mom?"
"She died giving birth to me," Alex said. "I never met her."
"Master Owen makes me do the laundry and take the trash out to the compost pile." He paused. "I have my magic lessons with him and have to assist when he treats sick people, but I still have time to visit my friends or to read for fun. I read a lot."
"Sounds nice."
"Maybe your dad keeps you busy on purpose because he is overprotective and too worried that if you weren't busy, something bad would happen to you."
"Where do you come up with these things?"
"I told you, I read a lot." Carter shrugged.
"What about your parents? Why do you live with Owen?" She had asked Doug the same thing when Carter had been recovering from the magic, but Doug had said he didn't know.
"Master Owen won't tell me." Carter set down his stick and used his palm to erase the drawing in front of him. "I know my parents were ordinary people, nothing special, but he won't tell me how they died."
