Fate of Dragons

by Alisha Klapheke

  Well, too much of a good thing and all that, Vahly thought to Arc.

  Our friends are no gluttons then.

  Vahly felt herself grin and was surprised by it, considering the circumstances. They are the finest dragons.

  Her own words also shocked her. She’d always said Amona was the best of dragons. But it was true. Nix, Ibai, Kemen, and Dramour had agreed to follow her despite their misgivings about elves. They’d been good to her and to Arc. Amona would not have done so. It was a safe bet to say the Matriarch would have fried Arc the moment she laid eyes on him.

  They share no bond with any matriarch. Arc’s phrase held a question.

  They refused the Call when it was offered, or broke it after the fact. They lay claim to the name Call Breakers and act much like a clan themselves.

  But you are bonded with the Lapis.

  I am. She could see the confusion in his graceful features, in the line of his strong brow and the narrowing of his eyes. It made sense that he wondered at the workings of this group and their split loyalty.

  The veined ground of the Fire Marshes was slowly but surely fading into a greener landscape. Vahly was almost certain the movement she glimpsed far, far below were large rock lizards, creatures who could live on the edges of the marshes.

  “I wonder…” Arc’s voice startled her. She’d grown used to his voice inside her head. Nix had flown close to Dramour. Their wings fitted like puzzle pieces, and Arc was just behind Vahly, not too far away at all. “I wonder what the Lapis Matriarch would think if she knew her human was soaring above the Fire Marshes and headed into enemy territory.”

  She ignored that comment. It was none of his business.

  The synchronized movement of the dragons’ wings mesmerized Vahly. The muscles and bones worked the leather-like skin. Sunlight passed through the emerald wing above her and made her feel like she was under the fresh water of the Silver River, peaceful and cool.

  The idea of peace made her twist to face Arc. “Are the elves truly enemies of the dragons still? They’ve had no interaction in ages. Why have your kynd hidden away?”

  The elf closed his eyes in obvious frustration, his head giving half a shake. He switched back to using telepathy. I wish I could tell you, but that part of my mind is cloaked by the spell. It makes me rather curious about what I will find upon my return.

  Well, tell me about yourself then. What does your average day look like?

  Arc leaned back, resting on Nix. I study alchemy. Specifically, I experiment with how magic interacts with gold. The research has wandered into the study of the four types of magic and how they might work together. Fire, Air, Earth, and Water.

  Vahly raised her eyebrows. How do you experiment with magic you don’t have?

  I simulate it in my laboratory. He bent forward. Do you think perhaps Nix would be willing to help me by donating some dragonfire?

  Somehow I don’t think asking for a dragonfire donation would be a great idea.

  Arc’s shoulders dropped, but then he laughed. Good point. I will wait until she trusts me. I appreciate candles, but I do not want to become one.

  Do you believe a dragon could ever trust an elf?

  The concept has not been tested under these conditions, so we shall see.

  Vahly grinned. You are an optimist.

  I am an alchemist.

  In the distance, a plateau reached from the end of the glowing, smoking marshes all the way to the isle’s sea-foamed edges, along the western coast, covering the entire peninsula. Dramour and the rest soared closer to the ground, to better view the plains and the plateau.

  The green of countless ancient oaks cloaked the stretch of raised land, miles upon miles of velvety color. The image stirred Vahly. Her feet itched to walk the legendary forest’s ground, to smell the earth there—

  A flash of black zipped past her ear.

  Dramour jerked forward and down and nearly lost hold of Vahly. Heart in her mouth, she gripped the dragon’s claws and turned to see Nix spiraling out of the sky, a massive arrow shaft sticking out of the spot under her wing joint.

  Dizzy, Vahly looked down.

  Arcturus was a spot, falling, falling toward the earth.

  Chapter Eleven

  Vahly held on, gasping as Dramour banked left and dove toward Nix, Ibai at his side. The wind whistled in Vahly’s ears as Dramour swooped under Nix and put a wing under her body. Ibai did the same on the other side. Then, extending the wings that weren’t supporting Nix, they soared toward the earth. Vahly tried to see what happened to Arcturus. She assumed Kemen had gone after him, trying to catch him before he hit. They’d been roughly one hundred fifty feet in the air.

  Could elves survive such a drop?

  The world was a blur of green and gold and Vahly fell, rolling on the ground until she came to a stop, panting.

  Dramour and Ibai shifted immediately, and Vahly shielded her eyes from the light before running forward to bring them the satchel with Ibai’s medicinal items.

  Nix lay on one side, chest shuddering. A massive arrow shaft sticking out of her side. Her wing sat at an angle that was all wrong. It was broken. The worst kind of injury for a dragon. Worse than the arrow.

  Vahly was numb. Who had shot her? And why? Who even had arrows like that?

  Ibai, naked, face drawn with worry, dumped the satchel and rummaged through their things. “Don’t shift, Nix. The wound will be too large for your kynd form. Where is Kemen? Did he save the elf from the fall? He might be able to help here.”

  The scales around Dramour’s temples and mouth paled. “It was his kynd that shot her! If he arrives safely with Kemen, I’ll see that he learns what an arrow feels like under the arm.”

  But then Kemen was there, rushing toward the ground in a full dive. He shifted before he even hit, his magic crackling.

  “Any sign of the elf?” Dramour asked him. “Splattered fancy blood? Please tell me he suffered.”

  “It’s not anything Arcturus did,” Vahly snapped.

  “No sign of the elf.” Kemen sounded more troubled than Vahly would have guessed he would be. He quickly pulled on his wrinkled clothing. “Vahly, you all right? That was a rough tumble.”

  Vahly’s mind was finally catching up. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  She hurried to Nix’s side and put a gentle hand on her head. Nix’s pain showed in her half-lidded eyes and the wrinkle between her eyes. The sun glinted off the glassy spikes near her ears and down her back.

  “That was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” Vahly’s voice cracked despite her determination to stay positive. “If you wanted our attention, you could have just asked.”

  Nix’s mouth lifted at the corners, showing white teeth the size of Vahly’s hand. Moisture gathered at the edges of Nix’s eyes before she shut them. Nix never cried. No matter the fight, the hurt, the loss. She joked and continued on. The tear that wove its way down Nix’s snout before dropping into the tall, dry grass panicked Vahly more than the ruby red blood streaming from the wound or the cracked wing.

  Ibai applied a greenish white poultice to Nix’s wound, then joined Dramour and Kemen behind the broken wing, hands on their knees, studying how far in the arrow had gone.

  “I think we should push it through,” Dramour said. “Remember Baww’s run in with the bald pine? Same spot.”

  Ibai clicked his green and blue mottled tongue against his teeth, his copper eyes over-bright. “I agree.”

  “Truly? Because you never agree with me.” Dramour was trying to joke, Vahly could tell, but he also looked like he was about to vomit.

  “I’ll keep a watch out for Arcturus. And for any further company we might receive.”

  “Receive into our flaming maws,” Dramour muttered, rage ringing through his words.

  Vahly ignored the fact that her own bandages were hanging loose as she drew her short sword. A scant number of trees grew along the uneven ground; the land not quite free of the marshes’ heat and poison fumes. The slender oaks spre
ad deep green leaves to block a few rays of the powerful sun. There were no paths here, no obvious sign of elves or any other highbeast.

  If the elves could see well enough to hit Nix in one of her rare soft spots why hadn’t they noticed their own kynd rode with her? Or had they actually aimed for Arcturus? He had, after all, been left in the Fire Marshes with his memory wiped and his magic dampened. Was this attack aimed solely at Arcturus or was this simply the age-old elf and dragon feud?

  Vahly didn’t know which truth to prefer. Neither helped Nix. Neither meant their entry into the Forest of Illumahrah would go smoothly.

  A branch snapped in the distance. Vahly held her weapon at the ready.

  She lifted her gaze to see the plateau where the elves’ great forest thrived, but the surrounding trees and the slope of the land blocked her view. They were close though.

  If a load of elven warriors rushed her, she was toast. Well, these weren’t dragons, so maybe not toast. Perhaps more like a pincushion for their throwing knives.

  A subtle breeze drifted by, tickling Vahly’s cheek, and a tingling sensation touched her back like eyes were on her. She turned to see three elves walking out of the trees, one with an arrow nocked and aimed, two with knives drawn.

  Fear tried to grip her arms and lock her down. Amona would not appear to save her here like she had so many times. Vahly lifted her sword and set her jaw. The vicious drive to live flooded her veins as it did during battles and feuds. Her body was used to the adrenaline rush, the fear, the counterbalance of courage.

  “You shot down one of your own kynd. Did you realize that?”

  The three looked somewhat like Arc, tall and ethereal in appearance, with pointed ears and that burnished skin that looked more like brushed metal than flesh. Their presence didn’t shake Vahly like Arc’s did though. Was that only because he had been the first elf she’d seen?

  Her throat squeezed. She hoped he lived. Pushing panic to the back of her mind, she studied these potential enemies facing her.

  The one with the bow had red hair like Nix, although the shade was more poppy than copper, a color she’d only seen in illustrations of elves. The first knife-wielder was thinner than Arc, less muscular in the arms and shoulders, while the second, a female, was far older, with silvery hair and wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. It had to take ages for an elf to show age. She must have been around when the Source brought the world into being.

  “We have none missing. The dragons carried deer or some such kill.” The female’s gaze traveled the lines of Vahly’s face. “The wind tells me you are what you cannot be.”

  None missing? Did they not know Arc? Elves only lived here, as far as Vahly knew. How could they not realize he was missing? Perhaps the same elf who had spelled Arc had spelled them too and their minds no longer held the memory of him.

  The red-haired elf glanced at her. “What is she, old mother?”

  The aged elf shifted her long legs and pointed a knife at Vahly. “Look at her forehead. Do you see the mark?”

  The elves’ eyes widened.

  “She is an Earth Queen,” the red head whispered, lowering his bow a fraction.

  Vahly breathed in and out, keeping her wits about her. They could strike her down at any second. She longed to spill her tale and beg them for help. Nix and Arc could be dying right now.

  “It can’t be,” the thin elf said. “All humans died.”

  Vahly made a show of sheathing her sword. It had to be her best bet. They hadn’t killed her right away so there was a solid chance they would listen to reason. They were all on the same side. The Sea Queen was after the entire island—the only land left in all the world. She’d made that clear with her declaration. Vahly had read all about it in the dragons’ scrolls.

  “I will tell you everything, but first, will you consider helping my friends heal?” she said, trying an angle that didn’t involve the mention of an elf they couldn’t remember. “You shot them down.”

  The red-haired elf gave a shrug. “Well, only a human would befriend a dragon so at least that much rings true. Maybe she is what she seems to be?”

  Vahly smeared a hand across her Blackwater mark. “No magic could make this.”

  The old mother nodded and jerked her pointed chin toward Nix. “We are no friends to dragons, but since you are what you are, we will consider it.”

  Nix’s eyes were closed when Vahly escorted the three elves into the clearing. Vahly’s heart constricted at the sight of her friend, lying there in a pool of blood. Tears burned her eyes.

  Ibai and Dramour had clothed themselves while she was gone. Dramour held a cloth against Nix’s wound while Ibai and Kemen worked to bind Nix’s broken wing to a tree branch. Nix’s breath shuddered in and out as they approached.

  Ibai froze. “Vahly?” he said, not turning to see them. He had smelled them.

  Dramour turned his head to look, then drew his blade, keeping one hand on Nix. “Which one wants to die first for this crime?” he snarled. “I will be merciful to the first. The second two, not so much.”

  Murder filled Kemen’s face, but the dragon stayed where he was, where Nix needed him.

  Vahly heartily approved of their fervor, but the end game was what mattered here. “Dramour. Stand down, please. They are here to mend what they have broken as best they can.”

  Ibai’s face was icy when he did finally turn. “Why would you do that?” His slitted eyes focused on the red-haired elf.

  The old mother spoke up. “Because she is an Earth Queen. And I thought we had no chance of seeing another.”

  Some of the fire left Ibai’s glare. He stepped around, took Dramour’s place, then explained Nix’s injuries.

  Dramour kept a hand on his hilt as he walked to Vahly. “Did you find Arcturus? Is he good and dead?”

  “Dramour. I want him alive. And no. I should go look for him, but I can’t leave Nix. This is awful.”

  “I’ll go with you if it’s what you want, Vahly. Don’t they,” he jerked his chin at the elves, “want to help us look for their own kynd? Did they say why they shot at Nix considering she was carrying one of theirs?”

  “They thought we were deer.”

  Dramour coughed a laugh.

  “Shut up.”

  “Sorry.” Dramour held out his hands, smiling sadly. “So much for elves having good vision, eh?”

  “I think someone spelled their minds too. They don’t even remember Arc.”

  The elves had removed all bandaging and splinting. They placed their hands on Nix and whispered words in elvish. Their lips moved quickly and their own flesh seemed to glow in the rising sunlight. Small globes like tiny suns bloomed around their fingertips before soaking into Nix’s body.

  The sound of wind in the trees echoed like music the day had just remembered. Vahly thought the rushing might have been related to their magic. The dragons’ magic crackled like fire and lightning. Perhaps each type of power had its own sound.

  Ibai stood back, his mouth pulled into a grimace and his kynd form wings shivering every so often like he was trying to shake a burr off. A low growl rumbled in the back of Kemen’s throat. They truly did hate one another.

  Nix’s eyes opened briefly and Vahly dared to hope.

  Could they actually heal her?

  She realized she’d left Dramour and was standing right beside Nix’s head. “Be well, my friend. I can’t run that cider house for you, you know, and if you leave it to Dramour, he’ll gamble all the house winnings away in a day.”

  Tears leaked from Vahly’s eyes then. She couldn’t hold them back anymore.

  Ibai let out a short roar and the elves lurched back, weapons aimed in a blur of movement. Ibai bowed his head and tucked his wings in submission. “I was only registering glad surprise, friends.”

  Dramour’s mouth hung open. “Never thought I’d see the day Ibai submitted to elves.”

  There was a flash of fire, then Nix was sitting on the ground in her human-like form. Her face was paler
than Vahly had ever seen it and blood still flowed from a small gash in her side. Her injured wing hung at a poor angle, but no bone showed.

  Ibai and Kemen rushed to wrap both her injuries again. Ibai’s hands lingered for a moment on Nix’s shoulder, a subtle show of deep feeling.

  When Nix was ready, Vahly helped her up. “Never thought I’d see the day elves saved my life.”

  Heart full to bursting, Vahly looked from elf to elf. “Thank you for your work.”

  “She isn’t fully healed. Not at all,” the old mother said. “That wing will take a long time to mend and she has lost a great deal of blood.”

  “Now, we need to find the other friend of ours you shot down.”

  “Another human?” the thin elf asked.

  Should she lie? Yes, perhaps this was a good time for lying. “Yes.”

  The old mother tilted her head. She definitely wasn’t buying what Vahly was selling, but the group followed Vahly quickly enough when she started out of the clearing and toward the area where she guessed Arc had landed.

  Vahly looked to Nix and Ibai, who were working Nix’s dress on, the wing-slash buttons glinting in the sun. “We will return shortly to figure out a way to transport you, Nix.”

  Dramour spoke quietly with Nix, and she nodded before he joined Vahly and the elves.

  A stand of beech trees led them to a rippling creek of fresh water. Vahly followed the creek up a small rise and tried to listen for Arc’s voice.

  But there was no need.

  Arc walked around a silver-gray tree trunk and held his hands out, unarmed.

  Once again, his presence hit Vahly like a strong drink. Her skin tingled with the knowledge that he was near and a completely ridiculous desire to bow her head—a subtle movement, like an acknowledgement—came over her.

  If she looked out of the corner of her eye, she could see movement around him. Swirling rays of light in sunset orange, midday yellow, and sunrise violet danced with purple-tinged shadows around his cheeks, hands, and head. His eyes were pools of glittering black, and they touched Vahly with a look she felt in her chest.