Redheart (Leland Dragon Series)

by Jackie Gamber

  “Now see here, Fordon,” said Brownwing.

  “The council is many members for a reason,” said Yellowfang. “We have no dictatorship here.”

  “Do not lecture me, Shera, on the miniscule edicts of the council.” Blackclaw pointed a claw at the Yellow and pressed it to the tip of her chin. “Lest you forget the edict that empowers me to invoke Primacy.”

  She pulled back from his touch and scowled. “Do you threaten me, Fordon?”

  “Primacy!” Brownwing sputtered, his wingtips flaring. “That is no threat, that is an outrage! A difference of opinion is no basis for expulsion from the council!”

  “It is if her loyalty is suspect,” Blackclaw said, pushing away to swerve toward the door.

  “You are betraying yourself, Blackclaw,” said Kallon. “If you are not careful, you will show them your true nature, and save me the trouble.”

  “Thank you for your concern, Red,” Blackclaw said. “But should you not be resting in the guest room I arranged for you and your criminal friends? You do have a difficult task come dawn.” His onyx claws gripped the door handle. “And be prepared to make room there, would you? I suppose it is getting crowded, but there ought to be enough room for one more.” His eyes shot to Yellowfang. Then he yanked open the door and slithered through it.

  Yellowfang clenched her fists. “He has really gone too far. Someone should keep an eye on him.”

  “My nephew has been instructed to do so until I tell him otherwise.” Brownwing reached down to the fallen sword and replaced it onto the desk. “However, I am not sure that is enough. We need to gather the council to discuss what the bylaws say about this.”

  “It is his word against ours,” said Yellowfang.

  “We are the two longest-serving members on the council.” Brownwing put his paw on her shoulder. “It should count for something.”

  Yellowfang nodded and turned amber eyes to Kallon. “Perhaps completing your quest will help untie this tangle.”

  “Perhaps,” said Kallon. “But I still have to prove Blackclaw’s connection to Bluecrest’s murder. His removing the evidence has taken care of that.”

  Yellowfang and Brownwing exchanged glances.

  “What is it?” Kallon asked.

  “Kallon, Hale did as you requested outside the arena. Out of respect for your father, he sent his nephew to find the belongings of the male human, and to keep watch over them.”

  “He discovered where they were kept,” said Brownwing. “He stayed to guard them, and Blackclaw did show up, as you seemed to suspect.” He looked again to Yellowfang.

  She continued, “Hale’s nephew didn’t allow him to touch anything before he alerted us. The belongings came straight from that room to this one, and have not been altered.”

  “But I saw him give the pouch to the human! It had the embroidered crest of the manor!” Kallon dove into the items, searching. “Why else would Blackclaw have gone to them if he did not also remember the pouch?”

  “I cannot say,” said Brownwing. “He claims he was curious as to why you seemed so convinced of his guilt.”

  Kallon closed his eyes. He clutched the leather vest into his fist. “As long as Blackclaw remains one step ahead of me, I am doomed to fail.”

  Brownwing reached for the vest in Kallon’s grip. “Sometimes, what we believe does not need to be proven, as long as we know in our hearts we fought well for it.” Brownwing folded the vest neatly and returned it to the desk.

  “She is slowly going mad in that place,” Kallon said quietly. “If I can do nothing else for her, can you simply grant me that she not spend another night there? Surely the council can search the bylaws.”

  Yellowfang bunched her eyeridges. “Her? You mean the human female?”

  “Yes,” said Kallon. “I assure you she is innocent. And yet she suffers. She is hungry, and cold, and frightened.”

  Yellowfang looked for Brownwing’s reaction, but the Brown only stared at the floor. “Five of the seven current council members believe you have spent the last several years going slowly insane. They have utmost faith in Blackclaw, and his dictates.” His sad eyes lifted and he settled them on Kallon. “I am certain we are on the cusp of change, Kallon. From this day forward, our future will veer from the path we have known since the dawn of our time.”

  Yellowfang inched forward a step and laid her paw on the back of Brownwing’s knuckles. “Hale and I have sensed this coming. The wind murmurs in warning, and we have argued for reason, but our words are empty.”

  Kallon tilted his head. “You have known all along that Blackclaw intends to draw humans into war.”

  Brownwing shook his head. “We did not realize the depth of his conviction until today. But he has been fueling unrest and speaking more against humans with each passing year.”

  “Then you must believe me. You must see how this obsession makes him capable of murdering his own Kind.”

  Brownwing’s eyes moved to gaze off across Kallon’s shoulder. He stared for a time, his throat clenching in a deep swallow. Then he pressed his paws to the desk. “Son, what I believe I dare not say aloud.”

  Kallon watched Brownwing’s claws dent the human’s vest. Armitage’s vest! Hadn’t the man tried to warn him the pouch wasn’t with his clothes? He’d said he needed his vest. But why would the human warn him?

  Brownwing grasped Kallon’s shoulders. “What I will say is this. How you fare on this quest will determine the new direction of our Kind. You have come back to us after all this time, just when we need you most. It cannot be coincidence.”

  Kallon shook his head. “I wish I could encourage you. I wish I could be the bold champion you want me to be. But I am the fledgling who ran in fear from life and responsibility. I am not bold. I am no champion.”

  Brownwing’s grip tightened on his shoulders. “I see no fledgling,” he said. “I see a Redheart.”

  Kallon looked at Yellowfang. She smiled. Kallon couldn’t bear it. He pulled from Brownwing’s grasp. “What do we know of Blackclaw? That he is a conniving, destructive murderer bent on domination at all costs. What makes you believe that this quest is even possible? Would it not better suit his plans that I fail, and fail miserably?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Perhaps is he confident I will fail because he knows something we do not.” Suddenly, the whispers he’d overheard between Riza and Armitage in the prison cell began to make sense. He hadn’t eavesdropped on purpose, of course, but with his sensitive hearing, he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t believed what Armitage had said at the time, that the pouch was miles away somewhere and that Blackclaw already had the circlet. However, considering things now, Kallon began to see that Armitage might have been on to something after all.

  “What could he know that we do not?” asked Yellowfang.

  “The dragon hunter thinks Blackclaw has the circlet already,” Kallon said.

  Brownwing scoffed. “And you believe him?”

  Kallon regarded the two for a moment. “I believe Blackclaw would not send me to find something if there was a remote chance I would succeed.”

  Yellowfang turned to stare through an octagonal window.

  “Shera?” Brownwing stood beside her, and stared out into the bleak sky.

  “Dawn,” she said. “We are no closer to an answer than when we began.”

  Brownwing touched the back of her knuckles. “Our answer is before us, as it has always been. We must trust. In those matters that are beyond our control, we can only trust in the divine force that brought him to us.”

  Were they discussing Kallon as though they’d forgotten he was there? “Forgive me if I fail to see any working of the divine here,” he said. “I see only the broken remains after a stampede of darkness.”

  Brownwing and Yellowfang turned to face him. Brownwing spoke. “There has been no stampede, Kallon. Many of us still hope that in the end, right will prevail.”

  “Perhaps we are wrong about Blackclaw’s already having the circlet. Perhap
s it really is out there somewhere, and he is just desperate enough for it that he is willing to risk your success to get his claws on it,” Yellowfang said.

  “There is only one way to find out.” Brownwing came around the end of the desk and stood before Kallon, regarding him.

  “I have not come this far to run now,” Kallon said, lifting his chin. “But I cannot allow my friends to suffer for my failure. If my going serves no other purpose than to provide them a way out, I will feel satisfied that I have done what I can.”

  “What do you mean?” Yellowfang asked.

  “If I return without the circlet, they are as doomed as I am. And they will be mistreated while I am gone, however long that should be.”

  “Perhaps we can convince the council to provide them with proper privileges.”

  “Thank you, but not good enough. I need them out from under Blackclaw’s threat completely.”

  Brownwing turned up his palms. “But how?”

  “I have to risk them into the hands of the one creature I trust less than Blackclaw himself.” Kallon clenched his teeth, grinding them painfully.

  A knock rattled the door in its hinges. “Dawn.” Without invitation, the door swung open, pushed by a gray paw. Grayfoot had to crouch to squeeze under the frame.

  “Give those belongings back to the human,” Kallon said to Brownwing. “Once my friends are safe, I will search for the circlet.”

  “Come on,” said the Gray, yanking Kallon’s foreleg nearly from its socket. “I get no breakfast until this is over.”

  Instead of grimacing at the pain, he eyed Grayfoot’s belly. “You could spare one less breakfast.”

  “Red, I am looking forward to the part where you come back, broken and disgraced. It makes for a softer beating, but we do have to take the bad with the good.”

  “You and I are spending far too much time together. I think you are starting to like me.”

  The Gray only laughed, and dragged him out the door. He stumbled alongside the guard, watching the hallway pass, each step bringing him closer and closer to the exit. His heartbeat surged louder and louder between his ears and his footsteps became heavier and heavier, until he finally came to a dead stop, staring out through the entrance arch.

  “Grayfoot,” he said. “I have no idea what I am doing.”

  The Gray snorted. “And here I thought we would never agree on anything.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Once again, Kallon climbed the steps of the granite platform and looked out across a gathering of colorful spines, wings, and dragon heads. There were more dragons now than before. The place was packed tight, and some onlookers even perched on the walls of the arena, peering around pine trees.

  Dawn had come to the mountain, but hadn’t yet reached into the stadium. Evening torches still blared from their wall sconces in two leering smiles of jagged, flickering teeth. Wispy mist hung like ghost entrails over stones. The only sound was Kallon’s shuffling feet as he was led to Blackclaw. The nearer he drew to the leader, the thicker the silence became. The arena swelled with anticipation like the moment after a lightning flash when the thunder is due any moment.

  Most council members were already there, seated along their exclusive pallet. Glances passed between them. Blackclaw kept to himself, though his stare burned into Kallon’s face.

  As Kallon faced him, Blackclaw rose. He shifted forward, his forelegs reaching for the crowd. Kallon watched torchlight dance with shadows across Blackclaw’s face, competing as to which could more eerily distort the leader’s features.

  “My fellow citizens.” Blackclaw’s voice punctured the silence, and air rushed out of the crowd in a stream of whispers. “It has been an arduous time. Suspicion and accusations have rocked the foundation of trust between leader and followers. Strangers have infiltrated our community, bringing death and dishonor. And one of our own,” his fist unfurled toward Kallon, “has come against me to manipulate tradition for his own desires.”

  Blackclaw’s eyes moved past Kallon to something behind him. Kallon turned to see Brownwing climbing the steps of the platform, Armitage’s bundled belongings pressed against his chest. Blackclaw urged him forward, and pointed for Brownwing to display the items.

  “Behold, dragons! The murderer’s possessions,” Blackclaw said. The crowd gasped, and surged forward to get a better view. “As you know, the Red has challenged my post, accusing me of using the power of my position for personal gain.” Heads bobbed. Tails waved. “The Red was given the opportunity to prove these charges. He could not!” Murmurs rippled across the sea of scales.

  Brownwing laid each of Armitage’s effects slowly. He seemed to be taking great pains in arranging the pouches just so, in laying the covered sword out in such an angle as to showcase it. The final item, the folded leather vest, was placed at the back of the display. Brownwing turned for his seat without looking at Kallon.

  Blackclaw continued, “The Red tried to convince you that I had some part in the plan to murder Bluecrest. How, I ask you, could I possibly profit from this?”

  “To stir dragons to hatred for all humans!” Kallon didn’t even realize he was speaking until he heard his own voice.

  Blackclaw’s face swelled. “He speaks out of turn! Still he holds to this foolish notion that I hired the human to commit this act!” Blackclaw pointed to the display of items near their feet. “I submit to you that each of these items has been thoroughly searched by honored members of our own council. There is no evidence to be—what is this?” Blackclaw’s eyes narrowed. Kallon once more turned to find someone climbing onto platform. This time it was Orman, Armitage, and Riza, led by Grayfoot.

  His heart broke at the sight of Riza. Filth clung to her hair, her cheeks, her scuffed knees. Her spine curved forward, shoulders slumped in defeat, and her eyes stared, dark and listless, at nothing. He knew she couldn’t take much more, despite her fight to stay strong.

  Shera Yellowfang brought up the rear, and she bowed her head as she addressed Blackclaw. “We thought it best that the prisoners should be allowed to hear the deliberations of their fate, and to stand as reminders before the citizens.”

  Blackclaw brushed past Kallon to bear down on Yellowfang with a scowl. “We?”

  Yellowfang looked up at the oncoming leader, and glanced at Brownwing. Brownwing stepped between her and Blackclaw, bowing his head, as well. “Those council members that we were able to consult quickly, Fordon. A majority.”

  Blackclaw drew up short. He breathed silently for a moment. When he turned to the other council members, his scowl had vanished. “Very well. I concur. Let the criminals serve as examples!” He scooped up a handful of leather and pouches and shook them at the crowd. “They are the first, but they will not be the last. As we establish our new order, we will no longer be disrespected! There will be judgment!”

  Just as the dragons broke into a shout, the sun stabbed hot filaments through the tall trees. Blackclaw raised his fist, and Armitage’s balled leather vest caught a stream of sunlight. The vest blazed as though on fire. Kallon cut his gaze to Armitage, who was staring hungrily at it. He strained against his chains, his fingers twitching.

  “Humans are weak and pitiful, even as they try to stand against us!” Blackclaw threw the vest and pouches. The jumbled mass skidded and rolled to a stop at Orman’s feet. Armitage tensed to jump at it, but lifted dark eyes to Kallon. The man needed a distraction.

  Kallon blurted, “Humans need us! There is benefit to mutual respect!”

  Dragon eyes converged on his face. He felt them more than he saw them, for he was watching Armitage inch his toe toward the crumpled vest. Armitage grumbled something to Orman, but Orman only stared back as though he were deaf.

  “What mutual respect?” Blackclaw asked of everyone.

  Armitage managed to hook the tip of his boot under a lump of leather and dragged it closer. He touched Riza’s arm. He spoke softly to her, and for the first time, Kallon saw softness in the human’s face.

 
Kallon didn’t know what to expect, exactly, but he was overcome with heart-wrenching sadness as he watched Riza, wishing he could tell her goodbye. A part of him knew he would never see her again. If the human really had some sort of magic in his vest and could take Riza safely away, there was no need to go through with the quest. He would leave the mountain, of course, and pretend to search, but he would have no reason to come back. This time, he would stay gone forever.

  “The Red has no answer!” Blackclaw’s voice crackled over the crowd.

  Riza seemed to steel herself, and at Armitage’s quiet words, she glared. She tugged her shoulder away from his touch. What was she doing? Let the man save you, Riza! Go with him!

  “Silent.” Blackclaw’s gesturing paw caught Kallon’s attention. “Perhaps you have finally learned your place,” snorted the leader.

  Kallon said the first thing that came to him. “It is you who needs to learn his place, Blackclaw! A true leader is a servant, not a master!” He looked back at Armitage. The human was gone. There stood Orman, arms crossed and scowling at the empty place between him and Riza. Riza was watching Kallon. Armitage was gone! The human had saved himself, and left the others!

  Kallon couldn’t believe that he was surprised. He felt a little sick.

  “We are not here to discuss your leadership philosophies.” Blackclaw faced the onlookers. “We are here to give the Red the opportunity to rescind his challenge!” Blackclaw strode toward Kallon, and outstretched his paw. “There is no need to go forward with this quest, if the Red will admit his defeat now.”

  “What do you mean?” Brownwing asked, coming to stand beside Kallon.

  Blackclaw gave a wide, unsettling grin. “I have, from time to time, found myself caught up in zealous beliefs, Hale. I am not so unforgiving I cannot see past the Red’s insults into the heart of the matter. However,” he said, pointing a claw. “He has spoken falsehoods against me. He must withdraw them if I am to consider a gentler judgment.”