by Megan Linski
An uneasiness settles within my gut. I don’t know where Smok is. No doubt he’s probably flying around, looking for me. He could be anywhere by now.
I do know how to get back to Krakow, however. If I follow the path, it’ll lead me straight there.
Yet going there means I abandon any hope of seeing Smok ever again. He won’t return to Wawel hill. I don’t stand a chance of being with him if I go to Krakow from here.
The choice is obvious, yet it’s the most difficult one I’ve ever had to make. Yet there’s no time to make it. If I don’t leave soon, I’ll be caught.
Quickly, I get in the back of the cart. Without trying to think about what I’m doing, I head toward Krakow.
Chapter Sixteen
I’m pretty slow, but I figure that one girl traveling alone is faster than an entire army. I push the horse as hard as I can, and only rest when the mare can’t pull the cart anymore. There’s food in the cart, so I’m able to eat, but I find my nights plagued without sleep.
I’m afraid of bandits and being out here alone, but worse than that is the waking nightmare that I’ve left Smok behind me forever. I made a decision to save my village and preserve lives rather than be with him. A selfless decision, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
I merely hope he thinks I haven’t abandoned him, and that he’s looking for me. Every morning when I wake up I look around to see if he’s found me. All I ever receive is the whispering of the wind.
The trip takes eight days. No one bothered me on the road, but I found it surprisingly empty. Has word spread this far that the Germans are on their way?
Finally, the walls of Krakow are within sight. I heave a sigh of relief. Quickly, I trot the horse up the hill and through its gates. I attempt to keep my watering eyes off the sight of the empty cave below the village. By the gods, I miss Smok. I wish he was here right now.
The townspeople start whispering frantically to each other as the horse pulls me through town. I was the girl everyone thought was dead. Now, I’ve come back to life.
“Is it really that much of a surprise that I survived?” I mutter under my breath. Merchants and servants part the way for me down the winding streets, stumbling over each other for a look at the girl the dragon claimed.
When I reach the fortress, I hand the cart off to a flabbergasted stable boy before I pick up my skirts and hurry to the throne room. There isn’t any time to waste.
When I throw open the doors of the throne room people turn pale white, like they’re seeing a ghost. It’s packed with dozens of servants, lords and ladies, as well as knights and soldiers.
King Krakus is sitting on his throne. He seems somewhat surprised, though his eyes gleam with triumph. He believed I could defeat the Wawel dragon.
I supposed I did. But in an entirely different way than he expected.
“Fliss.” Krakus rises off the throne, and raises a hand to me in greeting. “I knew you could do it.”
“Fliss!” Wanda’s shrieking voice screams my name. She slams into me from the side and knocks me over. I blush, and clumsily climb back onto my feet.
Her hug’s about enough to crush bones. After all this time, my heart aches with how much I’ve missed her. I wrap my arms around her and whisper, “It’s good to see you, Wanda.”
“Fliss.” Wanda’s lip is wobbling. “How did you survive? How did you escape?”
“I’d think we’d all like to know.” Pawel is standing nearby with his arms crossed. He’s skeptical that it’s really me… that I’m not some specter, or spell meant to trick them.
I clear my throat. “The dragon’s motives were different than what we thought.” My mind rushes to quickly make up some explanation “He wished for a travelling companion. He wanted to venture throughout Poland, but did not want to go alone.”
“Why ever not?” Pawel asks incredulously. “A dragon has no need for company.”
“He was… he was lonely,” I say lamely. It’s not a lie.
“A dragon cannot be lonely. They don’t have feelings!” Pawel protests. “All they care for is ruin and destruction!”
“No! You’re wrong!” I shout, and Pawel stumbles back. “You don’t understand. He’s good. And kind.”
“A dragon, good and kind?” Krakus’ brows raise. “Fliss, be reasonable.”
I tell myself to calm down. Wanda grabs my hand; her face is full of confusion, but she’s willing to back me up despite me talking what must be nonsense to them. “Fliss, where did he take you?”
“We… we went to the Baltic Sea.” My mouth is dry. I have to force the words out of my choked throat. “When we arrived there, he let me go. He decided to leave Wawel hill. He promised me he would not return.”
All true things, devoid of context. At the news that Smok is gone from Krakow permanently, the room cheers. Krakus nods in approval. “A bit of good news, then.”
“That’s not what you need to worry about,” I say. I have to work very quickly. I reorganize events in my mind to explain things to the king. “After the dragon released me, I started on the way back to Krakow, but I was captured by Germans. Prince Reinhold is on his way!”
“What?” Krakus whispers. The rest of the room starts to scream. Wanda’s rosy cheeks become green.
“He’s on his way to capture Princess Wanda. If we don’t stop him, he’s going to destroy the village,” I say. “He and his forces will be here in a matter of days.”
“How did you manage to escape?” Pawel asks, astounded.
“The soldiers left the cage I was in unlocked. I slipped away, and stole a cart and horse before they awakened,” I say. So many lies. So many, many untruths.
“Did you see how many soldiers he has?” Krakus asks.
“Thousands,” I say. At the word, a few ladies start to scream. “More than Krakow has by half.”
Men and women alike begin jostling each other for the doorway. I have to hold tightly onto Wanda to avoid getting trampled in the mess.
“ENOUGH!” Krakus roars. The room quiets, and Krakus booms, “This is no time to panic! No one is to leave this fortress! We will gather our forces and fortify our walls! Krzysztof!”
The knight pushes people out of the way to come forward. “Yes, sire?”
“Bring all the villagers inside the fortress. Every man and boy child over the age of twelve is to fight!” he demands.
“But your majesty, we don’t have enough weapons to arm such a force,” Krzysztof argues.
“Give them farm tools, then! Sticks, stones, whatever is on hand!” Krakus bellows. “We will beat back these barbarians with the sheer might of our people!”
“Pardon me, my lord, but wouldn’t it be wiser to give the prince what he wants?” Pawel asks. “One mere princess isn’t worth the existence of our entire village.”
Wanda clings to me. I consider taking out my seax and cutting Pawel open, but Krakus apparently has it handled.
With a mighty roar, the king unsheathes his sword from its scabbard. He swings it at Pawel before he has time to react. The blade cuts cleanly through Pawel’s neck, and his head goes flying off. It rolls along the floor before coming at a stop at the hearthfire.
Several people cry out; others try not to vomit. I look away and squeeze Wanda’s hand.
“I will not offer my daughter up as a sacrifice to a filthy German!” Krakus yells. “Anyone who suggests such a thing again will be executed immediately by my own hand!”
No one dares to make a sound. Krakus slams his hand against the arm of his throne and shouts, “Well, what are you all waiting for? Men, arm yourselves and report to your commanding officer! The women and children are to be escorted into the fortress immediately! No one gets through our gates!”
Poles are ramming their shoulders against each other to get through. I hold onto Wanda’s hand as tightly as I can and force my way through the crowd, yanking her up to her room. She runs behind me obediently, though her body flips and flops like a rag doll. She’s absolutely terrifie
d.
I won’t let Wanda be taken by the Germans. Not on my life. But Prince Reinhold’s army is large and powerful. All of Krakow’s forces aren’t enough to hold him back, let alone defeat him.
If we’re going to win this war, we need a dragon.
“You need to stay in here, Wanda,” I say. I shut the door to her room behind her. “Your father will post guards. You’ll be safe in here.”
“Where are you going?” Wanda asks. Her voice is peaked and little.
“There might be someone who can help,” I explain. “I have to find him.”
“What single man could stand up to an entire army?” Wanda asks mournfully. “There is no one!”
“I wouldn’t believe it true, either, but he is not a man.” He is so, so much more.
Wanda’s eyes widen. “You’re thinking of the dragon, aren’t you? Fliss, please don’t go. Even if you find him, he’ll eat you, or something just as terrible.”
“He won’t eat me, Wanda. He’ll help us,” I say. I grab her arms.
“Why would a dragon want to help us?” Wanda asks. “You’re not making any sense.”
“He would fight if I asked him to,” I insist. “I know it.”
Wanda pauses. She squints her eyes and tilts her head. “Something’s changed in you, Fliss. I can see it.”
I swallow. “Yes. Everything has changed.”
“How though? Have you changed your mind about the monster?” Her little mouth makes an O.
“Not my mind. Just how I feel,” I say. I wish I could make her understand, but it’s so hard to tell her what I’m experiencing. I fear I’ll be judged for it.
“How can you feel anything for a dragon besides hatred? They’re very scaly and large. They’re nothing like us.” She makes a face. “You have some weird tastes, Fliss.”
“He can transform into a man, Wanda,” I say flatly. “If that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Oh.” A mischievous smirk lights up her face. “Is he handsome?”
“He’s… he’s the most handsome man alive.” I can’t help the smile that graces my lips. “But his face cannot compare to his good heart.”
“Oh, Fliss! You’re in love!” Wanda flings her arms around my shoulders and hugs me, as if this is the greatest news she could ever hear and there’s not thousands of Germans about to come knocking. “This is so exciting! Oh!”
Wanda slaps her hands on the sides of her cheeks. “That’s why he demanded a virgin! He must’ve took you for himself! Did you make love on the road? In the wild, in the dirt with all the nasty plants and little animals running about? Oh, what a scandal! You must tell me everything!”
Wanda flops on the bed eagerly, crossing her legs and looking at me with doe eyes.
I blush at the thought. “You’re letting your imagination run off with you. And there’s no time, Wanda. We have to stop Prince Reinhold.”
I grab a cloak of mine that’s lying around in her room and swing it over my shoulders, casting the hood over my face. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can. Please, stay safe.”
“Oh, I will, Fliss.” Wanda nods eagerly. “Find your dragon. If Reinhold gets to me first, I’ll kill myself before he can put a hand on me, don’t you worry.”
Great. Exactly what I wanted to hear. Why is everyone I know so obsessed with ending themselves? I proceed down the steps of the tower and squeeze my way through the peasants being stuffed inside the fortress. No one is allowed to leave the fortress, but as a former slave… the words sound so sweet to me… I know the ins and outs. I’m able to slip out a back door in the kitchen that no one has managed to board up yet before I’m spotted sneaking away.
I run down the back end of the hill, where there are fewer houses. There’s really no need for secrecy; most of the peasants have already been cleared out. The town is empty as I proceed to the bottom of the hill.
My stomach churns as I enter the cave. My spirit shatters into pieces when I sweep the dark cave and don’t find Smok there.
I search the area for clues, but find none. Smok hasn’t been here since we left for the Baltic Sea.
I knew he wouldn’t be here. Why was I so foolish as to hope? I smack a cave wall angrily with the side of my fist, but only end up getting a shock of pain vibrating through my arm for it.
All seems hopeless. Then I remember the siren, and get an idea. I can call him with my voice.
I run to the edge of the cave. I have no idea if this is going to work, but I have to try. I start to think, running through a list of songs in my head I can use to reach Smok.
But before I can decide, words begin floating out of my mouth out of their own accord. I decide to play along, and follow the tune as it drifts on its own melody.
“Smok, cursed dragon,
The fire in my soul,
Please listen to my song
Hear your lover’s cry.
I long to be joined with you,
I’m desperate for your warmth,
I’m seeking your sweet voice,
And the love of your kind face.
Smok, return to me,
Let us be as one,
I have need of you,
I cannot face the night.
Smok, please hear me,
Fly quickly to my side,
I must feel your skin against mine,
The passion of a dragon.
Cursed dragon, I long for comfort,
For safety, and your heart.
For if you don’t return to me,
I shall surely die.”
I wait. I wait for a very, very long time. I wait so long that the sun begins to set. Purple and orange hues radiate through the sky. The more time that passes, the heavier my heart becomes.
Tears well up in my eyes, but this time, I decide not to oppose them. I let them drip down my nose and to the edge of my chin, where they fall to the dirt floor.
So that’s it. Either my magic didn’t work, and Smok didn’t hear my song… or worse, he heard it and decided to ignore it.
I wipe my face with the back of my sleeve and face reality. Regardless of whatever Smok’s feelings are, Wanda and Krakow are still in danger. If Smok can’t (or won’t) return, I must make a bargain with another dragon.
There’s only one other I know of. Every part of me turns dark with the thought of summoning him. What could I offer a dragon god that would make him want to fight against a force he has no care to deal with?
There is one thing. Myself. But would Zirnitra consider that an appropriate exchange?
The sound of the ocean and screams of Lech’s name drift once again throughout my ears before fading away with the sounds of twilight. Zirnitra chased me once before, to the very edge of the ocean. He’ll be willing to set up an agreement to have me within his claws again.
I take a deep breath. It must be the right song, otherwise, it won’t work, but there’s no song about Zirnitra that I know of. I’ll have to make something up again.
My voice is much smaller this time as I begin the song. The melody is soft… so quiet, I can barely hear it myself.
“Zirnitra, god of dragons,
Lord of death and fire,
Listen to your servant’s prayer
Fulfill my heart’s desire.
I beg for your assistance,
Listen to my humble plea,
Zirnitra, come to me
Zirnitra, come to me.”
It’s a tiny bit obnoxious, but I figure Zirnitra likes groveling, so I try to exaggerate. I lean against the wall and hold my breath, feeling like I’m about to fall off the precipice of a cliff.
I wait a half hour. I figure I must give him time to arrive, but it’s a much shorter time than I gave Smok.
Just when I’m about to give up and consider us all playthings for the Germans, a dark mass blocks the entrance to the cave. I look up; the black dragon god has landed outside. His dark wings spread wide, preventing an exit, while his gleaming sword teeth make a fiendish smile.
Zirnitra has arrived, and he seems entirely too pleased to see me.
Chapter Seventeen
I remain steady. Zirnitra towers over me, but this isn’t the time to lose my head.
“Thank you for coming,” I say. “I didn’t know if you heard the song.”
“I heard it loud and clear,” he says. “Your voice carried to me over many mountains. The siren blood is strong within you.”
My spirit becomes crippled and weak. That means my magic does work, and Smok just didn’t care to respond. How utterly heartbreaking. Did he mean anything he said to me?
“What is the urgency? If you have need of something, ask,” he demands. “A god cannot be kept waiting.”
“Of course. Could you change for me, please?” I ask, in as polite a way I can. “The villagers would die from fright if they saw you outside the cave just now, with the Germans already on their way.”
“Let the humans tremble in terror, as they should under the shadow of a god,” Zirnitra responds. “I have no care for how they see me.”
“But I want to see you,” I say. “As a person… like…” I swallow down a bit of bile. “Like me.”
Zirnitra draws back in surprise. “Very well. You shall look upon me in the form you wish to.”
In a whirling column of black smoke, Zirnitra changes from dragon, to man.
Zirnitra isn’t young. He’s old— ancient even. Wrinkles mass in a collection of dotted skin that pulls on his cheeks, causing drooping eyes. His ears are large and his hair is thin, growing in patches on his bald head. He wears a thick black robe that falls to the ground and covers his feet. To call him grotesque would be generous. He’s hideous.
Zirnitra takes a few steps forward. “Tell me, child. Why have you summoned me here today?”
I pause, thinking over what I’m going to say before plunging in. “You know who I am,” I say, and his eyes spark. “You chased me into the sea long ago. You drove Smok and I… or as we were at the time, Lech and Oleska… apart.”
