Queen of the Dragons

by K.N. Lee

  Ioan swept through the mountains and valleys and she held tight. She scanned the surroundings in search of the oasis Ioan spoke of, but to find nothing but boulders and beasts that seemed to lie in wait, blending in with the terrain.

  Red scaled basilisks and furless brown bandersnatches. Rowen swallowed, glad she was no longer forced to walk below.

  Vegetation was scare, but that did not take away from the beauty of the Wastelands. Rowen had walked those lands, and suffered, but all of that was forgotten as she flew above them. It was true, there was beauty in all things. Sometimes, she realized, you just had to see them from a different angle.

  “There,” Ioan said, and Rowen raised her head for a better look ahead.

  Her eyes widened at what she saw before her.

  An oasis unlike any dream.

  Palm trees stretched high into the sky and surrounded a stone pool of water so blue and crystalline that she could see straight to the bottom. The water stretched far a few miles into the distance, with deep evergreen bushes and tall grass enclosing it in a circle.

  “How is this possible?” Rowen asked.

  “Possible? I do not know. It has always been here.”

  “It’s like the treasure of the Wastelands.”

  “Except no man has ever made it far enough to find it,” Ioan said, flying downward to land.

  Once on the ground, she jumped down and stretched her legs. The clear sky was free of clouds, and the sun beamed down at her. Sweat beaded on her forehead and between her breasts. She stepped closer to the water and peered down.

  She almost took a step away when she caught a glimpse of her reflection staring back at her from the water’s surface. She almost didn’t look like herself. She’d only been with the Red Dragon for a few days, and before that she remembered being captured by the pirate, Elian. Not much more cared to piece itself together in her mind, but her face, it almost reminded her of better times.

  Rowen was once a lady. She was sure of that. With golden combs and haired styled in a long braid and tucked into a sculpture that marked the upperclass, she was once beautiful. Now, her skin was pale, her hair tangled and dull, and her lips dry and cracking from lack of water. She closed her eyes and tried to keep that vision of her former self from fleeting.

  She climbed onto the edge of the pool and slipped inside the water. The temperature was perfect, and welcomed her with its delicious coolness.

  She wanted nothing more than to strip herself of the raggedy old frock she wore to swim naked in the pool and wash herself. With Ioan not far behind, watching, she resisted her urges and settled for a leisurely swim on her back. She swam like that for awhile, with the sun on her face as Ioan curled up and continued to watch.

  “I thought you were hungry,” he said.

  She smiled. “I am, but this feels amazing.”

  “There should be a jug to carry water back in that crevice near the clump of trees.”

  “Perfect,” Rowen said and dove into the water to scrub her hair and face. When she emerged, he was looking over the side, as if worried.

  “You should hurry and find the food and water you sought.”

  “I will,” Rowen said, taking her time as she climbed out of the pool and wrung out her hair over the edge.

  If only she could stay there all day. Rick would need water and food as well, so she resolved to hurry as Ioan urged.

  “I’m sure you can eat some of the fruit from these trees,” Ioan said, and used one talon to slice several coconuts from the branches of a palm tree.

  “Thank you,” she said and sauntered around the pool to gather a few in the bottom of her dress. She paused as she turned back to Ioan. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “For opening the chest of your beloved.”

  Rowen jumped back as he snorted, sending flames into the air before him.

  “My apologies,” he said as she cowered behind the stone edge of the pool.

  “That’s what I was trying to do,” she said. “Apologize.”

  He lowered his head. “She looked like you. After the curse, and before. I do not understand it all.”

  Rowen came from her hiding spot. “Curse?”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  Her brows widened. She covered her mouth. “I see. Your beloved was a shifter.”

  He flickered a look of pain her way and she almost wished she hadn’t asked.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch him.

  Surprisingly, he didn’t move away. He lowered his head toward her and allowed her to place her hand to the side of his face.

  “That explains the human clothing in the chest.”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me about her,” Rowen said, settling down before him. The shade from his large body and palm trees kept her from the sun, but its heat was inescapable. Still, it didn’t compare to the warmth that radiated from Ioan as he spoke of his beloved.

  It almost made Rowen jealous. No one had ever loved her that much.

  Not that she could remember, at least.

  “She was beautiful—more beautiful than any Dragon I’d ever seen, and she was mine. Until a wizard came along and changed everything.”

  “That’s who cursed her?”

  “Yes, he wanted a few of her ivory scales for a spell or potion, and when she refused, he cursed her to be half Dragon and half insignificant mortal.”

  Rowen raised a brow.

  “No offense, child. That’s just what she called him when he made his request, and he doomed her to an eternity of such a life. She suffered for a while, before realizing that she needed to live like a human to survive. So, she left often for food and sustenance, but would return. Her visits became shorter and shorter until she never came back.”

  Rowen sighed. “What happened to the wizard?”

  “I do not know, but if I ever find him I will kill him.”

  “What was her name?” Rowen asked, drinking water from the jug positioned between her legs.

  Ioan looked to her. “The most beautiful name of all,” he said. “Nimah.”

  Chapter 11

  Rowen held a hand up, silencing him.

  Nimah.

  That name sparked something within. It nagged at her and screamed that there was some significance there.

  “Nimah,” she said aloud, hoping it would urge her memory to reveal the mystery. “That is a beautiful name.” The harder she tried to decipher it, the more her mind resisted, and before she could reach a conclusion, it faded.

  “Thank you. She was more beautiful than any Dragon or woman I’d ever seen in all of my years. She was the first of your race, Rowen. Your earliest ancestor.”

  Her brows lifted. “Remarkable.”

  “Not really,” he said. “I’ll never understand why she decided to have offspring with a human, but what’s done is done.”

  The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a loved one cursed, and then lost. She placed a hand on his foot. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ioan.”

  “Do not worry about me,” he said. “I may have been unsuccessful in turning back time enough to get her back, but she will return. I am certain of it. I’ve forgiven her for what she’s done. I just want her back.”

  Rowen smoothed her wet dress and stood. “Speaking of, we should return before Rick gets too lonely.”

  “You are attracted to this, Rick? Are you not?”

  The question caught Rowen off guard. Her cheeks reddened and she turned away. “What makes you say that?”

  “I can see it. I am not blind, and it’s quite clear he is fond of you.”

  She fidgeted with the loose strings of her dress’ hem. “He’s a handsome man, that’s for certain. And, he did come all of this way to rescue me.”

  “Do you know him?”

  Rowen looked up to Ioan and thought for a moment. Her eyes narrowed as an image of kissing Rick came to her. Her belly warmed at the memory.
There was a magic sensation when they touched in her memory, and she’d felt it when he touched her earlier. A faint smile came to her lips as she imagined that perhaps Rickard was a suitor, or better yet, someone who cared for her.

  “Yes,” she said. “I do believe we are acquainted.”

  “Do you wish to leave with him when he is well?”

  Rowen was taken aback by the question. If only she knew what kind of life she had before reaching the Wastelands, she might have an answer. Instead of replying, she shrugged. “I do not know for certain. Rick seems nice, but then, you’d be all alone once again.”

  “There is a reason we were brought together, Rowen,” Ioan said. “Once we find out that reason, your path will become much clearer.”

  “So,” Rowen began, softly. “I am not your prisoner?”

  Ioan snorted again, sending flames to char the branches of a palm tree beside him. “Of course not. You summoned me, and I saved you from that wizard in the valley.”

  Rowen gasped. “Wizard?” She remembered, the pirate was a wizard, and they were just about to battle when Ioan arrived. “He couldn’t be the same one who cursed your beloved, could he?”

  Ioan shook his head. “No, too young, to tall. I’ll never forget what that scoundrel looked like.”

  She thought of the pirate, and how she’d been ready to battle with magic. As she did so, she lifted her hands before her and focused on channeling the power within. First, two small flames arose from her palms and into the air. She chewed her bottom lip and her brows furrowed as she willed the flames to grow, then spin. Then, she clasped her hands and watched in delight as the flames merged into one and spun in a ball.

  As she came to her feet, she used more energy to increase the size of the ball of fire. She lifted her arms and to her surprise, the flames turned from orange to red and exploded into millions of tiny sparks.

  Breathless, she watched them fall in a midst all around her.

  “How did you do that?” Ioan asked, taking a step back. “Are you too a sorcerer?”

  Rowen looked to him in contemplation. “I do not know what I am, exactly.”

  Chapter 12

  The Purple Blunderbuck never looked so welcoming. Despite its unassuming stone structure and the rowdy guests standing outside in the small courtyard just in front where the stables were kept, Elian was relieved.

  The sun was setting, and it was a struggle for him to keep his eyes open, let alone stand on his own. So, Gavin helped both he and Siddhe from the cart.

  “Ah,” Gavin said as he put one of their arms around each of his shoulders. “I always looked forward to being a nurse to two crotchety old croons.”

  “Shut it,” Siddhe said. “I can still kick your arse. Crotchety or not.”

  Elian said nothing. With each cough, blood escaped his lips.

  Siddhe glanced at him from Gavin’s left side. “All right there, Captain?”

  He nodded but focused on moving one foot in front of the other. It was a miracle that he survived the trip. All he felt was pain and weariness, and as Gavin led up the stairs behind Feyda and Perdan, he also felt a tinge of gratitude for the boy’s help. After all that they’d been through together, Gavin had proven himself as more than just his scribe. If Elian survived this ordeal, he’d have to promote him to something else.

  He just hoped he would last another night.

  As they hobbled behind their captors, Feyda cast a disapproving glare over her shoulder. “Hurry it up,” she said. “You, take them to the room at the top of the stairs. And, don’t try anything. I had Perdan hire a big, burly fella to keep an eye on you two. So, try to step out and he may be forced to get violent. Understood?”

  Elian rolled his eyes. “Bugger off, Feyda. Do we look like we’re capable of trying anything?”

  “You think I’m dumb enough to fall for your schemes?”

  He coughed, and wiped his mouth of blood. “I don’t know, Feyda. But, you do know everything, don’t you? Can’t get anything pass you, can I?” If only she knew just how serious he was about what ailed him, he was sure she still wouldn’t care.

  She stepped aside as they entered the inn and nodded to the staircase. “It’s right there, boy. Make it quick and we might all be able to get some food in our bellies.”

  “Mother,” Perdan said, and motioned for her to join him by the bar where the innkeeper awaited. “A moment, please.”

  Elian wished he could hear what they were whispering about, but the first step onto the staircase was brutal. He winced and tried to keep steady, holding onto the railing as well as Gavin’s strong frame.

  “Almost there,” Gavin said once they reached a few steps from the top. He pushed the door to their room open and Siddhe went directly to the bed and flopped facedown onto it.

  “Oh, how I’ve missed the smell of mildew on these pillows,” she said with a muffled voice. She turned her face from the pillows and watched Gavin bring Elian in. “Have the innkeeper bring me some salt for a cold bath.”

  Gavin nodded, struggling to get Elian comfortably into a chair. “One minute, your highness.”

  She sucked her teeth and rolled onto her back where she pulled off her boots with a groan.

  “If you think you can manage without me for a few minutes, I’ll go to the bar and get a few things,” Gavin said.

  No one replied, and he left the room.

  Elian sat in a chair at a small table. He opened his shirt just as the innkeeper pushed his way inside. Without a word, he brought a tray of cups and jugs of water and ale.

  “Got any salt?” Siddhe asked in as pleasant a voice as she could manage.

  The innkeeper gave a single nod toward a small bowl of salt on the tray, and left the room.

  With a surprising bout of energy, Siddhe sprang up from the bed and crossed the room. She snatched the salt from the tray and stepped over to the small tub behind a wooden frame. “They must have been expecting us,” she said. “There’s cold water in the tub already.”

  The delight in her voice was heart-warming. Maybe she would survive after all, but Elian thought it was odd how Harold, the innkeeper, couldn’t look them in the eyes. He knew who they were. No one expected the notorious Captain Elian Westin to be prisoner to a merchant. As far as the world knew, he was killed in the sea attack by the Withraen Navy. He cringed to think of this new story spreading. If he was going to live, he’d need to work at keeping up his reputation.

  “Who knows how far ahead Feyda and Perdan have planned this whole thing. That prince could be a problem.”

  “Could be?” Siddhe asked. “I’d say he’s already a bloody pain in the arse.”

  “We’ll come out on top,” Elian reassured her. “We always do, don’t we?”

  “We do, Elian. But, I am not so sure this time.” The worry in her voice was almost as alarming as the slight sound of fear.

  “Keep your eyes in your head,” she warned as Gavin stepped back inside and closed the door. She stripped her clothes and hung them over the wooden frame.

  “What’s to see?” Gavin asked, with a wicked grin.

  “Oh,” she purred as she stepped into the water and slid as far down into it as she could, with her legs hanging over the edges. “Bliss.”

  Elian was as glad as he could be considering the pain and exhaustion. He tore a piece of bread from the loaf on the tray. Crusty and warm, at least they didn’t feed them scraps. He chewed carefully, enjoying the flavor. After being fed nothing for days, this was a small luxury he would savor.

  Gavin sat across from him, his brown eyes bright as the day he’d interviewed him to be his scribe. How had he not suffered one bit during their entire journey?

  “So,” Gavin began, folding his hands onto the table before him. “What’s the plan?”

  Elian leaned back in his chair, ignoring Gavin as he chewed another bite and then washed it down with ale.

  “Captain?”

  “Enough, Gavin. Can a man get any peace with you around?”


  “Pardon?”

  Elian glared at him from across the table. “Don’t you get it by now? When will you learn that I employ you. I don’t have to reveal anything to you.”

  To his surprise, Gavin snorted and leaned over the table. “Sorry, Captain, but that’s not going to cut it. I will not shut my mouth. Not when we’re in deep horse shite.”

  Elian’s eyes widened.

  “Do you have a plan or not?” Gavin asked.

  Elian hesitated for a second too long and Gavin pointed a finger at him.

  “That’s what I thought. Look, Captain. Respectfully—you can’t do anything for Siddhe and I in your condition. You thought as far as getting us here, but nothing more. Am I right?”

  Elian cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure what he thought of Gavin’s sudden show of assertiveness. Instead of retorting, he kept silent, and listened.

  Gavin lowered his voice. “Here’s what we’re going to do, because I’m not letting that woman and her all-too-friendly son cart us around all of Draconia as prisoners. We’re going to think like bookkeepers, and not pirates. For once.”

  Lifting a brow, Elian took another drink of ale and nodded for Gavin to continue. Why not listen to what the boy had to say? He was too tired to think anyway.

  “So, we are going to go with logic and reason instead of over-emotional swashbuckling. Think. What is Rickard going to do if he finds Rowen? He's going to head back to Withrae. What's going to happen to Rowen if she gets to Withrae? There's a small chance she might be executed,” Gavin said. “But I think that Rickard has gone too far too much trouble to track down a criminal—even one who committed murder of the crown prince.”

  He had a point. Elian mulled over Gavin’s words. Why would Rickard want Rowen if not to bring her to justice in Withrae.

  “And, look here,” Gavin said. “Prince Rickard seems to be less angry and more concerned about Rowen. If he was going to bring her back to be executed, why would he ask about Rowen's magic?”

  Impressed, Elian chewed and thought. He kept his face clear in an attempt to look as not impressed as possible, but what Gavin had just said was more than he thought the boy capable of.