Dragon War

by Shay Roberts

  We take the smaller branch. It leads to a cavern dimly lit by oil lamps.

  I smell meat cooking. Several people in multicolored robes are setting out a meal on a long wooden table.

  Mazaa sits us down, telling us to eat while she leaves to deal with the harness modifications.

  The food is tasty and filling. We start with vegetable soup and a heel of barley bread, then follow that up with roasted goat. The honey ale is strong, and after a few mugs of it, I’m ready for a nap.

  After we eat, Rosemarie and I are led farther down the tunnel, to a small cavern where a room has been prepared. There are oil lamps, a washbasin, and a pair of straw beds covered with wool blankets. It smells like a barn in here, but I’m grateful for a place to rest.

  I plop down on the closest bed. Rose snuggles up next to me.

  She whispers in my ear. “It’s not even dark yet. Are you going straight to sleep?”

  I recognize the offer in her words. It’s tempting, but I’m feeling too vulnerable right now. When we were facing the horsemen, I was too tired to jump. I hated not having that option.

  I kiss Rose. “Give me a couple hours?”

  She nods. “No hurry. We have a year before the Romans come.”

  I close my eyes, enjoying the feel of her body against mine.

  “Tyler, wake up!”

  Rose is shaking me awake.

  “How long have I been sleeping?”

  Her voice sounds tense. “Perhaps an hour. Get up, the Romans are coming.”

  “No. Caratacus said—”

  “Caratacus was a drunk. The Romans are coming. Aido-Hwedo has seen them. He wants to make a night attack.”

  The news hits me like a bucket of cold water. My sleepy head clears, and I leap from the bed.

  Yes, Caratacus was drunk, but that doesn’t mean he got the date wrong. There’s another possibility. Maybe Argyros is onto us, and he’s moved up the timeline.

  A Merciful Death

  ROSEMARIE ALLEN

  I sit atop Aido-Hewdo, marveling as his crystal scales turn the reflected moonlight into splashes of color.

  A great leather harness stretches around the magnificent dragon, supporting a pair of saddles similar to those used with horses, but without the stirrups.

  I sit in the front saddle, secured by a leather safety strap around my waist. All metal has been removed from the harness. I hold Snakehead in my left hand, while my right hand rests inside a hole in the harness, allowing me to touch the dragon. He smells like smoke, and his crystal scales feel like chips of heated glass.

  Below, Tyler’s gunshot rings out in the cold Highland air. The great dragon doesn’t react.

  Tyler shouts up to me from the ground. “We’re good. The bullet bounced right off his tail.”

  A wave of relief washes through me. Now we know the staff will protect Aido-Hwedo from harm. It will be safe to attack the Romans.

  Like me, Tyler has rid himself of all metal objects. The only weapons we will carry are Snakehead and Tyler’s crystal claws.

  Tyler climbs a rope ladder and joins me atop the dragon, taking the saddle directly behind me.

  Mazaa climbs up to check our safety straps. Satisfied with the rigging, she wishes us luck and descends the rope ladder. Tyler casts off the rope as Mazaa reaches the ground.

  Tyler’s hands rest above my hips, his warm skin against mine. Though I fear for his safety, I am happy to have him with me. He takes a few minutes to teach me how to shift my weight, and where to grip the harness when the dragon makes various maneuvers. The training puts my fluttering stomach at ease.

  I have only flown once before, on the plane that took me from Scotland to America. I was terrified. It seemed impossible that such a machine could fly. But this will be different. Dragons are expert fliers. I have known this since childhood.

  My excitement builds as Aido-Hwedo shuffles to the edge of the rock formation above his lair.

  I look out over the silent Highlands. Three small lakes, stacked at different elevations, glow silver in the moonlight.

  I lean back into Tyler and his arms encircle me.

  I whisper to him. “It’s a beautiful night to fly.”

  Tyler’s response breaks the spell. “I wish it wasn’t so clear. It’s too bright out here. I’m worried his scales will catch the light. We need some cloud cover.”

  I gasp as Aido-Hwedo suddenly plunges over the cliff’s edge and becomes airborne.

  My head spins. I push the dizziness away with force of will. I can’t get sick. I have an important job to do. I must protect Tyler and the great dragon from the Roman bullets. As long as Tyler is touching me, and I am touching Aido-Hwedo, we will all be safe. I press my hand firmly into the opening in the harness, maintaining contact with the dragon’s glassy scales.

  As we pass over the Highlands, the only sound is the wind in my ears, and the rhythmic flap of the dragon’s wings. The stars above look close enough to touch, and the ground below takes on an unreal quality, like a dark painting.

  I soon spot the light of the Roman campfires, and point them out to Tyler. He gives me a squeeze as we begin to descend.

  As we sweep over a hill outside the camp, a shot rings out from below.

  Aido-Hwedo turns his head and belches a great torrent of fire. A Roman soldier, standing on a rock formation, bursts into flame. He must be a sentry. If he was wearing the green gel, it didn’t help him.

  Tyler’s grip on me tightens, and his voice sounds strained.

  “Something’s wrong, Rose. That shot grazed me.”

  Alarmed, I turn to him and see a shallow red line across his arm.

  “Are you wearing metal?”

  He shakes his head. “Are you sure the staff is working?”

  My mind reels as Aido-Hwedo launches an attack dive toward the camp.

  How could the staff not be working? We tested it. Why would it work for Aido-Hwedo but not for Tyler?

  Something Merlin said comes back to me.

  “Tyler, we must retreat! Merlin said the staff was powered by the earth, but we’re in the sky now.”

  Gunfire erupts from the ground. Hundreds of shots. I cry out in pain as several bullets hit me with the strength of thrown stones, but without penetrating my skin. My tattoos are protecting me.

  The great dragon rolls sideways and falls from the sky.

  I reach for Tyler but find him dangling from the safety strap, just beyond my grasp. He has bullet wounds in his chest and side, and he is not moving.

  Oh gods, is he dead? My heart thumps hard enough to burst.

  The ground below is spinning up to meet us.

  I can’t hold the staff and reach Tyler at the same time. Without hesitating, I drop Snakehead. Merlin’s staff tumbles into the darkness as I summon the power of the eagle and rip away my safety strap.

  I lean over the saddle to reach Tyler. Perhaps if I hold him in my arms, my tattoos will protect him from the fall. But deep in my heart, I know they will not.

  Just as I touch Tyler’s hair, we smash into the ground.

  Sparks flare behind my eyes and terrible pain wracks my body.

  Then, nothing.

  I wake with my bones aching and find myself in chains. My feet and hands are shackled together. I feel the cold ground against my cheek.

  We have lost this fight, shot from the sky before the battle had even begun. This cannot be the way it ends!

  Where is Tyler? I feel a stab in my heart as I remember the awful sight of him dangling from the safety strap. Is he dead? How could he have survived those bullets, and that terrible fall?

  And what of Aido-Hwedo? Surely, he must be dead.

  Tears of anguish flood my eyes. Pushing away the despair, I summon the power of the horse and try to break the chains, but they are too strong.

  I hear a voice behind me.

  “She’s awake, General.”

  I roll over and survey my surroundings. I’m on a dirt floor under the roof of a canvas tent. Several of the
protective tattoos on my legs are missing. They have saved me from multiple deaths.

  There are two husky Roman soldiers in the room, covered with the sharp-smelling green gel. They wear segmented armor and carry swords at their side.

  A bald man with a gray beard sits behind a desk on the far side of the tent. Before him lies a great bloody ear covered in crystal scales.

  My heart seems to stop. I know now, without a doubt, that Aido-Hwedo is dead.

  The bald man rises. He has no green gel on his skin. He wears a fine breastplate inlayed with gold and silver. The design shows an armored man on horseback, slaying a dragon with a lance.

  He studies me, puzzled. “I am General Alexander Argyros, Commander of the Nameless Legion, and direct descendant of Georgios of Lydda. I have a number of questions for you. Answer them all and I’ll grant you a merciful death. Lie to me, or fail to answer, and I’ll cut out your tongue and crucify you.”

  His cruel words make my blood surge in panic. I could time jump to escape this terrible fate, but I will not leave without Tyler.

  I look the general in the eye, trying to sound brave. “Where is my companion? I will not answer your questions until I know he is safe.”

  “That’s actually my first question. I knew that strange dragon man. He killed my squire, Snedeker. Who was he working for? What was his agenda?”

  Despite my attempt at bravery, a groan escapes me. He is speaking of Tyler in the past tense! Tyler must be dead.

  I blink away tears and think about jumping. But I can’t leave until I know for certain that Tyler is gone.

  “I want to see Tyler.”

  Argyros looks annoyed. “There isn’t much left to see. How on earth did you survive that fall?”

  My voice comes out in a ragged shout. “I want to see him!”

  Argyros nods to one of his men, who exits the tent.

  I catch a hint of motion under the desk. Summoning the night vision of the deer, I peer into the shadows.

  A serpent has slipped in under the canvas. I recognize its gleaming eyes. It’s Snakehead! The staff has returned to me.

  With his back to the desk, Argyros can’t see the approaching snake. The second soldier has a line of sight with the serpent, but is focused on me.

  Argyros starts to turn back to his desk. I call out suddenly, not wanting him to spot the snake.

  “Wait! I will tell you how I survived.”

  The general pauses, gesturing for me to continue.

  “The tattoos on my legs are knots of protection. My father, a dragon mage, marked me with ink made of dragon scales. When I am badly injured, enough to die, one of the knots fades, and I live on.”

  He frowns. “That’s nothing but primitive superstition. You Picts and your tattoos. I—”

  The snake strikes, sinking its fangs deep inside the general’s bare upper leg.

  Confused, the general turns. The snake hangs behind him and the general can’t see what bit him.

  But the soldier beside me sees the threat. He acts quickly, drawing his sword and swinging the blade.

  The sword shatters as it hits the snake.

  Argyros drops to the ground, unconscious.

  The snake strikes again, like lightning, biting into the wrist of the stunned soldier. He tears the snake from his flesh and flings it to the floor. Then he sinks to the ground, also falling unconscious.

  The snake darts toward me, and soon I feel its cool skin on my hands. I hold my breath, worried it will bite me too.

  But the snake stiffens and becomes a staff once again.

  Using the weapon while bound is difficult, but I manage to strike the chains around my feet. They shatter. They break not just where the staff struck, but all along their length. Every link of my hand and leg chains falls into pieces.

  A soldier enters, carrying what looks like a body. Oh gods, is that Tyler?

  In moments, the tent will be swarming with Romans. I must act while I can.

  I raise the dark staff and smash it down on the general’s head, crushing his skull. As he dies, I feel a surge of hope. Will this be enough to save the dragons?

  Suddenly, the world around me begins to fade away.

  Rose’s Tears

  TYLER BUCK

  I jerk awake at the sound of a door opening and find myself sitting in a wooden garden chair with roses carved on the armrests.

  A figure emerges from the back door of a house. It’s a man dressed in a Victorian-style vest and trousers. Professor Southam!

  I remember this moment. I had just arrived at the Academy, and ’Tis led me here, to Southam’s backyard. Am I reliving this moment in a dream, or is this really happening all over again?

  The professor looks pleased to see me. “Hello, Tyler. We’ve been expecting you.”

  What the hell is going on? One moment, I’m flying on a dragon, and then suddenly I’m here, napping in Southam’s garden, waiting to meet him for the first time.

  This seems real. Is time repeating itself?

  Southam sees the confusion on my face. “Are you all right?”

  “No, Professor. I’m not. Is this the first time we’ve met?”

  “I believe so.”

  I want to ask him if Rosemarie is here, but I’m afraid of his answer.

  He nods toward the door. “Please come inside and tell me what’s happened.”

  I follow him into his library, hoping he can make sense of this. I tell him everything about my time here, including him leaving his permissions on my glasspad, and my use of the Academy’s locked anchor.

  Southam is fascinated by my story and asks a lot of questions. I drink several of his soda waters and we talk until morning. When Philip comes to give me a tour of the campus, Professor Southam sends him away. After all, I’ve already had the tour.

  After hearing my tale, Professor Southam steeples his fingers and thinks for a moment before he speaks.

  “It appears you’ve experienced a correction in the timeline. When this happens, most people don’t remember the original events. The ability to remember is determined by several factors. If you were directly involved with the actions that altered the timeline, you have a better chance of remembering. If your own life was dramatically altered by the correction, you have a worse chance of remembering. Also, certain paranormals and gifted time travelers have a better chance of remembering. I would place you with the latter group.”

  I pull the glasspad from my pouch. “Do you remember me arriving here before? You gave me an entrance exam on my pad.”

  “I don’t consciously remember, no. But I did experience a strong sense of déjà vu when I saw you sitting in my garden chair.”

  I finally work up the nerve to voice the question. But in my heart, I already know the answer, and it fills me with dread.

  My voice comes out in a whisper. “Professor Southam, is Rosemarie a student here?”

  His look of sympathy telegraphs his answer. “I’m afraid not, Tyler. We’ve not heard of her. I’m so sorry.”

  I feel sick. Is she still in Britain? Did she die during our attack on the Nameless Legion?

  Professor Southam’s voice is soothing. “Did she ever tell you why, and how she came to be a student here?”

  I nod. “She was twelve years old when the Romans attacked. Her people were dying, and she saw Aido-Hwedo die. That’s when she time traveled for the first time.”

  “Okay, let’s think this through. You said you were attacking the legion when you were shot. What if that attack was successful? What if Rose and her people were saved? If that was the case, twelve-year-old Rose may never have time traveled into the future.”

  I check in my pouch to confirm the crystal claws are there. They are.

  “But Aido-Hwedo is dead. I still have his claws with me.”

  “Perhaps he died in this fight with the legion, but somehow managed to destroy them, and in doing that, changed history.”

  “So you’re saying twelve-year-old Rose may have grown up normally, and
might still be with her people? If that’s true, would she remember me?”

  “That’s uncertain. Although she was directly involved in the events leading to the correction, it seems her life was dramatically affected. She may have been, as we say, rewritten. That can be difficult for a mind to absorb.”

  “Okay, so if the legion was destroyed, Rose never experienced this traumatic event at age twelve, so she never time travels. Instead, she grows up among the Draig and may not remember me.”

  “That is one possible explanation. No doubt you’re contemplating a trip to check on her. I can understand that. But before you do, let me speak with SA. If history has been changed, they need to investigate, especially if your enemy, this Argyros fellow, is a time traveler.”

  “SA won’t do anything. They already said the dragons are not a priority.”

  “Yes, but if the timeline has been altered, that will certainly get their attention. Give them a few days to deal with it. In the meantime, I’ll administer the entrance exam and we’ll get you settled in and rested. May I have your glasspad?”

  My enthusiasm for attending the Academy is gone. But I hand the pad over.

  This time around, I do much better on the exam. After the test, I go to the women’s dorm and ask around about Rosemarie. Just as Professor Southam said, no one here has ever heard of her.

  Her absence depresses me. It feels like my first trip to the Academy was the real one, and this time around is just a lame do-over. Without Rose here, I shouldn’t be here either.

  I’m really worried that she is dead. I still have Aido-Hwedo’s claws, so apparently, he didn’t survive the fight against the Romans. Maybe Rose died in that fight. Maybe I died too.

  Of course, Aido-Hwedo could have died later in history, for some other reason. It’s still possible that Rose and the great dragon destroyed the legion. If so, young Rose would have grown up with her own people. If I visited her now, would she even know me? Or would she and the Draig attack me?