by LeRoy Clary
Elizabeth waited before talking. “If that is true, tell me why the Heir Apparent’s chief servant, a lord, a princess, and three mages are all going the other way? What do they know that we do not?”
“The Blue Lady said there are six mages,” my mouth said before I could make it stop.
“She said a lot of things, some of which we know are not true,” Kendra said.
Elizabeth said, “But the central question remains the same. Something important is happening less than a day from here, and we have no idea of what. It’s like stumbling ahead in the dark and knowing there are things waiting to trip you.”
Kendra cast me a glance and looked away. Then she said, “Elizabeth, there is something else happening. There is a dull roar in my head. The closer we get, the louder it is.”
“Have you any idea of what it is?”
“I think it might be magic or caused by magic. It might be what sent the others away. If they can faintly hear it, they are scared, it’s that sort of sound. Like the low growl of a wolf just before it attacks.”
“Magic,” spat Elizabeth as if the word was a curse.
Kendra closed her eyes and spoke softly, “When Damon does his magic I can feel, or sense, it. At least, lately. Not much, just the smallest touch of awareness deep inside me. That’s how I know when he does it. It scares me, so my reaction is to make him stop. It’s not natural.”
“Go on,” Elizabeth prompted.
“The sound in my mind is sort of the same, but also the difference in a burbling creek and a raging waterfall. Both are water, but the magnitude is immense. That is what is in my head right now. A waterfall. No, ten of them.”
“What else?”
I hadn’t known there was something else, so that question took me unaware, as it did Kendra. She turned to face Elizabeth and said, “The sounds try to pull me in. They draw me to it, insisting there is more to hear, like words obscured by the roar.”
“And?” Elizabeth said coldly.
“There may be a dragon ahead. Not a wyvern, mind you. A full-grown dragon.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
N one us got much sleep—except for Tater. Springer circled the campsite several times as if he was uneasy, but each time he returned without barking to sleep beside Tater. Three blankets wrapped around me, like swaddling to keep the damp chill away. However, the chill didn’t all come from the night air. No campfire would warm me. If fear of the future causes a man to feel cold and alone, I was terrified.
My ears heard Tater’s heavy snores and should have picked out the breathing of Elizabeth and Kendra but did not. They were also awake and probably feeling much the same as me. None of us attempted to talk. The owls hooted, the river whispered, and insects buzzed. My ears searched for the flap of leathery wings carrying a dragon to us.
Near dawn, Springer stood suddenly and growled a warning. As usual, the diminutive dog was ready to fight. My bow was at hand, as was my sword, but nothing approached. As Springer calmed, we mutually decided a stray traveler must have used the stone bridge. Still, the warning built our confidence in the watchdog.
We drifted back to sleep, or two of us did because Kendra decided to throw rocks at my head. Not large one, but pea-sized. She wanted me to remain awake, and the others asleep. The pebbles striking my head kept me that way.
Tater snored, and soon Elizabeth was sleeping, too. I eased to my feet while wrapping my blankets around me for warmth. If one of them woke, I’d explain it was just a pee break. Down beside the edge of the river, the rushing of water would cover any conversation. A boulder just the right height sat on the bank as if inviting me.
A few minutes later, Kendra joined me, sitting beside and whispering. “Something’s happening.”
If it was immediate, she would have her weapons ready to fight with her. “Tell me.”
“The wyverns swarmed a while ago. They don’t usually fly at night because their eyes are not built for the dark. Something upset them so much they all took flight.”
“How can you know all that?”
“The wyverns are like hundreds of bees buzzing in my head, as a steady sound made up of all the smaller ones. At dark each day, the sounds dip and fade. They don’t stop, but it grows less, it becomes softer. They are sleeping. When Springer barked and woke me, the buzzing was back at the daytime level.”
“Meaning?”
“I think whatever spooked Springer, did the same thing to them.”
We sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the river. I heard a fish splash, but it may have been a bullfrog or something else. My imagination saw a beautiful rainbow trout as long as my forearm leaping momentarily free of the water. Like that vision, Kendra might be assigning her mental buzzing to wyverns when she heard the sounds of a honey-tree.
No, even my wild imagination couldn’t believe she would be that wrong. But, she suddenly seemed to be fascinated with dragons of any sort, and she was willing to blame a lone traveler on the bridge as the result of dragons. The problem was, my sister was not one to panic or exaggerate. She was the calm one, the sibling who sat back and waited for things to work out before making a judgment.
I said, “When you talk about being spooked, my mind translates that to a covey of quail taking flight when a dog takes a run at them.”
She didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was softer but more intense. “Listen, your example isn’t far off. What is in my mind are bare peaks of mountains with nests built on the cliff faces where small animals can’t get to them and steal the eggs. Wyverns breed and sit on their eggs for months. Males hunt for food and return it to the females. It takes two to feed the chicks. Then, for some reason, they all flew away from their nests at the same time. They were scared.”
“You got all that from buzzing in your head?”
“I’m putting into words my feelings, impressions, and who knows what else. It is not information that is fact, but that is inferred like it has been there all the time, but I didn’t know it.”
“Now you’re really scaring me if you keep this up.” My statement was not an idle thought.
“Not my intent. But it scares me too. Each word I speak is making me think deeper into the subject, and there are things emerging that were unknown, even to me.”
“And now you believe there is truly a dragon in Mercia?”
“Not in it, but near. That is one thing the Blue Woman spoke about that is true. I can sense it, like the beat of a drum, while wyverns are bees buzzing.”
“You sense it? You believe it is really there? A damn dragon?”
Even in the starlight, the flood of tears streaked down her cheeks. She didn’t sob, nor did she cover her face with her hands. Instead, she leaned closer and placed a palm on my cheek. She said in the softest voice imaginable. “Yes, it is there. And it is sad and calling to me.”
“Why?”
“It is angry and being held a prisoner. No, that isn’t quite right. It is angry at being restrained. Its feelings are in a rage.”
“I think it has a right to be, if there are forces that are holding it, or it is penned up. How long has it been there?”
“Four hundred years, more or less.” Her head tilted at an odd angle, and more tears flowed. “How could I possibly know that? I am going insane.”
“How could someone do that to an animal? Even to a dragon. Four hundred years?”
“Damon, you always were understanding. If you could feel what I do, you’d know how important that is right now.”
“You’re scared.”
“Wouldn’t you be? Spirits appear and call me a Dragon Queen and order me to stay away, but other entities we’ve never seen pull me to Mercia. Then there is the dragon, a creature we didn’t even believe in a few days ago, that has been locked up for so long I can’t imagine it. And to make all that worse, how do we choose sides? Because there are definitely sides to this—this conflict.”
“We’ve already made our choice, or it has been made for us. If
we continue into Mercia, we are not on the side of the Blue Woman. We’ll also watch for anybody from Kondor, although my suspicions are that they were all being controlled by a mage and not at fault.”
“Why do you think that?”
The sound of the rippling water soothed me as I gathered my thoughts. “There were four of us, tired and weary. Twelve of them, and they had surprise on their side. We found a few bows, but they didn’t use them in the attack, and I thought that was because they wanted us alive.”
“And now?”
“My belief is they were being manipulated by a mage, or more than one. Twelve should have been easily able to overrun four civilians with their swords and clubs. But think of the coordination and skill required to shoot a bow. When they attacked, they looked sluggish, which I decided later was due to starvation. What if it was because they were being controlled?”
Kendra whirled on me. “That would explain the lack of rings, money, personal items, and even food. They were captives, like the dragon.”
That hadn’t occurred to me. But she was right. They were in a situation worse than slaves, and guilt overcame me. We’d killed innocent puppets if our deductions were right. We sat in stone cold silence beside the river. I didn’t bother wiping away the tears because more followed.
Kendra sniffled, too. She didn’t have to discuss it more because she believed the same as me. Then she stood. “I’m going to Mercia.”
“Even with a dragon and its captor or captors waiting for you?”
“Yes.”
“You may die there.”
“I may die at home in my bed. Don’t try to persuade me to leave this alone. It’s something I must do. You and the others can return home if you wish, and I’ll understand.”
“You will not.”
“If you say so. Go back to bed. I have some more thinking to do. Alone.”
“Mercia is almost in sight. We’ll be there by mid-day at the latest.”
She paced in circles and finally said in the fiercest tone she’d ever used, “Let’s go stir the pot, Damon.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
W e woke at daylight ready to stir Kendra’s pot. The horses were saddled, our blankets rolled tightly and tied on them, and weapons were at hand. My sword slapped at my side, and on the other hung a quiver. The bows were substandard, but we hadn’t yet replaced them. There was little conversation as we ate a cold breakfast consisting of dried fruit and an apple each.
Alexis was ready to leave, and probably hungry after finishing my apple core. The barren ground held little grass and shrubs, but she could survive a day without food. Still, I slipped her another whole apple when nobody was looking. As I turned to the others, feeling somewhat guilty, Tater had his back to me. He extended his arm, and there was the barest hint of red as he fed his apple to his horse. It took a good man to treat animals like that. The stableman had been correct in suggesting him and was owed my thanks.
The sport and intrigue of Crestfallen seemed a lifetime away, but there would be more ahead, I feared. There were people who needed to explain their actions, and enemies to face. However, with those I rode with, my confidence swelled.
The morning had dawned with the fog hiding the sun and sky. Only damp gray light filtered through. Now, the air itself seemed to grow brighter, and my mood changed from the same damp and gray to one of cloudless sunshine.
Kendra called, “I see it.”
Her observation was unnecessary because ahead lay a hundred more low hills covered in scrub, and then the side of a craggy mountain held Mercia, not as I’d pictured it, but better. Instead of existing on the valley floor, it was built on the sterile rock sides. A raging white river fell down the slope, splitting into four fairly equal parts as it made the final plunge.
Mercia lay there, between four waterfalls. The sunlight glinted and sparkled off the water, and the gray buildings of Mercia blended into the background. All the buildings appeared to be made of the same granite. They clung to the sides of the mountain like barn-swallow nests.
Alexis felt my heels as I moved beside Kendra. “How is the beehive of buzzing?”
She moved her chin to her right a fraction. “Wyverns.”
“More to your left,” I told her as if I knew.
“See any smoke coming from a chimney? They do have kitchens, right?” she asked.
While we searched for signs of people, another thing came to mind. “Anybody up there can see us on this road long before we see them.”
Kendra said, “They know we’re coming.”
“Do you know something I don’t?”
She snorted in the joking way she has since a child. “I know lots you don’t. But, there is one serious thing we need to discuss. Without being too obvious in case, look at the three peaks? Look above—in the sky.”
At least a hundred wyvern flew in tight circles, all together. My impression was they were upset. “Did you do something?”
“Not intentionally or knowingly. But I don’t think it is natural for them to act that way.”
I followed up with another question. “The dragon, the pounding in your head. Is it louder?”
“Yes, but that’s not all. It knows I’m near. There is excitement and . . . there is anticipation, you might call it.”
My sister, the Dragon Queen. “You can tell all that from what you hear in your head? Does it scare you?”
Kendra shrugged and closed her eyes for a second, then spoke again in a far-off voice, “It scares me. The dragon. But there are other beings trying to scare me away from here, and as we get closer, they are threatening. Telling me not to go to Mercia or we will all die.”
“That would be those aligned with the Blue Lady.”
She didn’t answer. Her breathing was shallow and slow. Her eyes were closed, but her fingers gripped the reins so tightly her fingers were white. I couldn’t fathom what was happening to her, but if she needed my help, she would let me know.
Elizabeth turned to say something, and the words seemed to stick in her mouth. She yanked her horse to a stop and leaped off. She was sprinting to Kendra before her feet hit the ground. She called, “What’s wrong?”
Kendra didn’t answer.
Tater rushed up behind her, “Help her get down before she falls and breaks her neck.”
The packhorse reared up and snapped the reins. It landed on all four feet and ran off the road into the scrub, the cargo tied to its back bouncing and jostling until it slipped a girth strap and the entire pack leaned to one side. The horse continued to buck and sway as it ran.
The other horses also acted skittishly, but we didn’t have time to deal with them. Tater reached for Kendra’s waist and pulled her to him as Elizabeth freed her feet from the stirrups. I watched and worried.
Elizabeth freed the ties for her wool blanket stored behind Kendra’s saddle and spread it on the ground. Tater lowered her to the ground, and Elizabeth knelt at her side and examined the eyes rolled back in my sister’s head, the slack mouth, and limp body. “What’s wrong with her?
“She’s fighting them,” Tater said.
Tater, who was supposed to know nothing about Kendra and myself seemed to know far more than he should. Distrust welled, and I stepped in front of him. “What do you know?”
“Know? Nothing, but what I hear.”
Elizabeth shouted, “Down boys! What’s happening? I’m not asking again.”
Tater locked eyes with me for an instant, then turned away as if deciding to obey her instead of speaking to me, which was probably the right choice. He said, “Can’t you hear it?”
I heard a faint breeze rustling across the landscape, a few faraway birds, and nothing else.
Elizabeth had Kendra’s head cradled in her hands. She turned my way. “Get me something to use as a pillow. Tater, what do you hear?”
“Anger. Fear. Maybe some hope mixed in.”
“What else?” she snapped at him.
“There are walls being built. Walls to keep her
away from Mercia. There are several of them attacking her mind. Mages, I think.” He seemed unstable and distracted, his voice coming in disjointed sentences. His knees crumpled.
I caught him in a bear hug before he hit the ground, then placed him beside Kendra and grabbed my blanket off Alexis for their heads. A wild look all around revealed nobody in sight. The wind picked up, blowing dust made the morning feel cold again.
Elizabeth said to me, “Start talking.”
She soon knew what we did. I held nothing back despite her eyes flashing in anger at learning we’d withheld information. She was not angry because of the information but because we’d betrayed her trust. I knelt beside her and watched Kendra’s face as I talked. The words spilled from my mouth, and I couldn’t stop them. She finally placed a hand gently on my shoulder and told me she’d heard enough.
It was just as well. I’d said it all and was repeating myself.
Tater sat up, eyes so wide his eyeballs were ready to pop out of his head. His hands went to his forehead and pressed. “Closer.”
“Closer?” Elizabeth repeated. “Closer to what?”
“M-Mercia.” He fell back and lay still.
Elizabeth said, “What do you think that means?”
I stood and allowed my mind to go blank or tried to. Then, as if Tater placed a thought inside, I repeated, “Kendra wants us to take her closer to Mercia.”
“Why?”
“They want to keep her away, so she wants to go there. That’s a guess.”
“A damned good one, I think,” Elizabeth said. “I can’t lift her up to Alexis. You have to help.”
I called Alexis, and she came to me, wary and frightened. I took her reins and patted her neck as I talked to calm her. We stood Kendra up while supporting her and then lifted her to lay across the saddle. Elizabeth steadied both her and the horse until I managed to climb on while moving Kendra over the front of the saddle to lay more on Alexis’ neck.
Elizabeth said, “I can’t leave Tater here.”
