by LeRoy Clary
“Meaning?” Elizabeth said.
“There were maybe six or eight big houses, but only a few important people in each of them. The surrounding houses contained servants, but not that many,” Tater said.
Elizabeth seemed to understand. “If there were fifty servants for each house, that is still only four or five hundred in the city. Another couple of hundred tradesmen and all food and goods were bright in, so there were never many living there.”
They had gone on to other things to talk about, and none spoke of me. I dried my eyes and sucked in deep breaths to calm myself.
A glance showed the dragon stood on hind legs and bellowed louder as if proud it had finished. It turned away from the mountain and spread its wings. As if it had all day with nothing to do, which it did, it slowly rose into the air, crossed the river, and gained altitude as it followed the road right at us. Both Tater and Elizabeth moved to the side of the road and the ditch that might offer a measure of safety. However, the dragon looked only at Kendra, as it flew higher and faster.
As I turned to watch it fly over us, Kendra was smiling faintly.
“Where’s it going?” I whispered.
“Anywhere it wants,” she answered softly.
“Can you still hear those sounds?”
She shook her head and then shrugged. “Not the deep thrum of the dragon. It’s gone. The bee-buzzing of the wyverns is still there.” She stopped talking as if confused. “We have made enemies this day.”
That drew me up short. It was not a deduction. She had reason to believe what she said. Elizabeth and Tater came to join us but saw the concern on my face. They waited for her to speak again.
She closed her eyes and said, “There are minds hunting for me. Not my body, but for me. The Blue Lady is one of them, and she is telling them what to look for and where we are.”
“Strike back,” Elizabeth ordered. “Do not stand aside and allow them to mass and attack as one.”
She had always been the better planner and more cutthroat. A cold streak held Elizabeth in the face of enemies and her first reaction was to fight, to strike first and hardest. Her secondary reaction was to plan another strike, one that would not fail. If she was directing a military battle, she would order a smaller group to attack her enemy and watch for weaknesses to exploit before sending in the larger force.
Kendra sat on the road and pulled her knees to her chin as she wrapped her arms around her legs. She rested her chin on a knee, eyes closed, and brows furrowed. Her lips were pursed, her jaw tight, and her arms tightened so much the tendons stood out.
She said nothing, and neither did we. Elizabeth knelt at her side. I watched as Tater gathered the horses and made unnecessary adjustments to their saddles. A blue haze shimmered beside Kendra. It expanded and grew in height until the vague outline of a woman formed.
It exploded in a flash of orange, leaving the hair on my arms tingling. But all traces of blue were gone. A noise behind drew attention. The dragon was returning.
It flew with long powerful strokes that propelled it forward at a speed hard to believe. Its head was thrust forward, and the thing never even looked at us. The dragon was concentrating on Mercia again.
It landed without slowing, striking the hillside behind the remains of the city so hard with its chest, rocks, and boulders tumbling. It used its foreclaws to dig. Rocks, stone, and debris flew. It managed to fit one paw inside an opening and rip it aside, tearing part of the hillside away.
Then it bent and sniffed at the exposed opening. A roar followed, directed inside the cave penetrating solid rock.
“It came in response to Kendra,” Elizabeth said in a hushed voice. “To rescue her.”
The idea was absurd. The only reason I didn’t refute it was that it did seem the dragon was protecting her, and aside from the knowledge my sister had no magic powers, she was fighting a private war. Deep inside, I knew she must have powers, but it was hard to accept, especially since I’d always considered myself special if the truth were known.
Kendra’s magic outstripped mine in every way. She might even control a dragon, as I watched it tear into the hillside again and again. It was like a cat with a mouse cornered, but it couldn’t reach it.
“Don’t let me get on the wrong side of Kendra,” Tater punctuated the remark by spitting. Springer leaped out of the way and narrowly escaped. The dog would need to pay better attention.
But his statement brought a smile to my lips, and even more so when Springer sprang. It took the heat out of the air for all but Kendra. She still sat in the same position, eyes closed so tightly she squinted, but I wondered how she could be in danger with that animal wrecking an entire city. If anything, or anyone, approached us, I suspect the dragon would leap into the air and approach it as fast as it could fly.
Because my mind does not always work like those of others, it wondered how the dragon was going to handle the bickering between us. Even Elizabeth joined in. We couldn’t have that damn beast swooping in to settle an argument about the color of a scarf being red or ruby. Especially if it was going to take Kendra’s side.
“What do you see that’s so funny?” Elizabeth asked me.
Saving me the trouble of having to answer, Kendra threw her head back and howled, duplicating on a small scale the same action of the dragon at the same time. There could be no doubt the two were somehow connected. For the briefest instant, she looked similar to it.
“Kendra, what’s happening?” I asked as I knelt on her other side. When she didn’t answer, I peeled open an eyelid. She stared ahead with unseeing eyes.
“Should we wake her?” Elizabeth asked.
“No. Not yet. Look at how tense she is.” Kendra had also slowly curled her fingers, leaving the index and middle finger extended in our secret signal. She wanted to talk, but obviously not now. I think it was her way of telling me everything was fine. The dragon took flight and this time went higher up the side of the mountain, then as it reached the peak, it turned.
“It’s heading for the wyverns,” Elizabeth said.
Tater said, “It’s getting late. We need to find shelter and food.
“I’ll carry her,” I said. Elizabeth took her from my arms and waited until I was on Alexis then handed her to me. I gave the horse a touch of my heels, and we walked away from Mercia, a city I’d never been in and would never see. It lay broken, in ruins, no brick upon another.
Elizabeth and Tater rode behind, silent as the barren landscape around us. The soft sounds of the wind sounded more like moans coming across the emptiness. The dragon was out of sight, but Kendra stiffened now and then, her head came erect once, but her eyes remained closed.
Tater said, “There was a farm up ahead. It was the last one we passed.”
Elizabeth said, “We will stop there for the night. Kendra needs a place to rest, and we need food.”
Tater rode in silence for a while then I heard him whisper to Elizabeth, “What if they don’t invite us?”
Elizabeth didn’t hesitate. “They help us, or they are our enemies and will face Damon’s sword.”
That ended the matter to my eyes. The farm came in sight, a ramshackle cabin surrounded by a field with crops trying to survive between the rocks. A small herd of sheep grazed, pigs wallowed, and two dogs raced out to greet us.
When the dogs saw Springer, they charged him. Both were larger and wished to establish their territory. Springer’s one good ear went back on his head, and he waited, eyes locked on the two dogs charging him. Tater shouted, but Springer ignored him. The two dogs reached him, and for a few seconds I couldn’t tell if there was one dog or three, but for the snarling and snapping.
One of the farm dogs broke and ran—the smarter one of the pair. Springer leaped to the other and grabbed its neck, then hung there as the dog tried to get away, dragging Springer along with it. Tater had dismounted and chased both.
A farmer ran out from a dilapidated and leaning barn, carrying a pitchfork also while shouting and runnin
g at the dogs. Tater, the farmer, and the two dogs met in the middle. The pitchfork went flying. Tater grabbed Springer and stepped back.
The farmer knelt beside his dog, then shouted at Tater, “Look what he did.”
Tater spat, then said, “Shouldn’t let your dogs go on a public road and attack others.”
I looked around and couldn’t find the other dog, but confirmed Springer was half the size of the injured one. I moved Alexis forward and pulled to stop right in front of the farmer. “We need the use of your house.”
“And food,” Tater added.
The farmer noticed my sister for the first time. He said, “My house. I only invite friends inside.”
“My name is Damon. We can be friends. Invite us in.”
“If I don’t?”
“Tell him, Princess Elizabeth.” My words were chosen carefully, and he realized who she was, and that must have felt like being kicked by a mule. He backed off a step, then knelt with head bowed, as he should.
I carried Kendra inside where we found a small cabin, old, and clean. There were no signs of a woman or other occupant. The sleeping mat was for one, and Kendra was placed gently on it.
The ceiling beams were so old they had turned black from smoke that escaped from the fireplace. A cook pot hung from a swing-arm, and at the bottom was a warm stew, enough to feed two or three. There was a small table, two homemade chairs, and beside the fire a stump the right height for sitting.
“Your name?” Elizabeth asked.
“Henry,” he said with awe. “Just Henry.”
“Well, Just Henry, I will pay you well for the food and roof.”
“No need to pay, Princess. You are welcome.”
“Do you have what it takes to make more food? We are starving,” she asked.
Behind a curtain were shelves lined with wax-sealed jars. He said, “I can make more, easy. I got eggs and smoked meat outside, flour and the makings for flatbread.”
“That would be wonderful,” Elizabeth said.
He went outside. Tater followed as he said, “Not room to change my mind in here.”
My suspicion was he needed room to spit. He also was going to check on Henry’s dogs—that’s the way of Tater. Elizabeth turned to me. “Any change?”
“Not yet.” It was one of those questions where she already knew the answer. If there had been a change, she stood two steps away and would already know it. Still, the tone and question reminded me she cared as much as me.
Henry returned with eggs in a bowl and a ham tucked under his arm. Without hesitation, he worked at the small table and the pot, soon serving two portions in the only bowls he owned. He asked, “How’s the girl?”
“We think she will be fine,” Elizabeth said.
Henry sat on the stump and watched the flames for a while. Finally, he said, “Saw a dragon today. First ever.”
“We saw it too,” Elizabeth said with finality.
Tater came in and helped himself to a bowl of eggs and ham, then carried it outside. A good bet would be that Springer ate half. Henry and Tater were still on non-speaking terms. The barn would have Tater sleeping there, and a peek out the door told me he’d already taken care of the horses. I wanted Alexis under cover for the night—where no dragons would find her.
Elizabeth said, “Henry, can you take what you need for the night and give us some privacy?”
He leaped to his feet and almost fled the cabin.
She called after him, “We wouldn’t ask, but . . . never mind. Damon, I wanted to speak to you with nobody else around. Are you up to it?”
“I-I, no.” The answer spilled from my mouth before thinking.
“There will be time later. But, tell me this. Is the kingdom in any danger from that beast?”
“There is no way for me to know. Kendra might.”
“But there are things I do not know.”
That was a tricky question. I wouldn’t lie to Elizabeth. There were times when the entire truth didn’t pass my lips, but even then, guilt devoured me. Only on this trip had it seemed necessary to withhold information. “There are things neither of us knows, none intentionally held back. Not to spite you or keep you unaware, just privacy.”
“Where did the wyverns disappear to? And why?” She asked.
“Kendra might know that, too. But if you ask me, they were scared of something, maybe the dragon, and flew away.”
We sat in silence as the fire burned down. My head was beside Kendra’s, so when she woke with a start, she woke me. When she screamed long and loud, I leaped to my feet and reached for my sword.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
T he sword was unnecessary. Kendra sat up, and her eyes were wide in the firelight. Elizabeth rushed from a chair to join us, and Tater barged inside ready to fight. My sister sat on the sleeping mat in confusion. Tater tossed wood on the fire, and we all huddled closer to hear what she had to say. Her eyes fell on me.
She said, “I’m hungry.”
We laughed as Elizabeth scooped stew into a bowl. I helped her to her feet and to the chair. We watched her eat. As the last of the eggs and ham were devoured, Elizabeth said, “Tell us.”
She didn’t have to ask for more or explain what she wished to hear. Kendra knew what she wanted. She said, “The mages kept the dragon imprisoned. It’s not the first.”
The subject seemed so disgusting, Kendra hesitated. She swallowed and drew herself up.
Tater said, “If they don’t like dragons, why not just kill them? It’s not like it was going anywhere until you came along and freed it.”
“It’s not like that. They wanted it alive.”
“Why?” Elizabeth asked after another pause.
Kendra’s eyes found mine. I nodded and whispered, “Tell it all. The four of us should have no more secrets.”
Her eyes held mine as she said, “Use your magic. Push that bowl on the table to the edge.”
She never wanted me to use my magic. This was different. I reached out and pushed. The bowl didn’t move. I concentrated harder and pushed again. The bowl remained.
She said, “It’s the dragon essence—or lack of it. The mages captured the dragon and used it, as they’ve done for thousands of years. They even use the dragon’s magic powers on itself to keep it restrained. They learned how to concentrate essence and use it for themselves.”
“Where is my magic?” I demanded, more upset than I’d known.
“The mages kept their dragons isolated where only they could access essence. Oh, there were a few people like Damon who would reach out for a small portion, and they allowed it to leak to soothsayers and fortunetellers when it suited them. Even to a few gamblers and other people who are of little consequence. Their words, not mine.”
“What about mages?” Elizabeth asked, keying in on the central point and keeping her tone neutral.
“Mages have no more power with the dragon released. Neither do sorceresses and all those others who shared a fraction of the magic. There is essence lingering near here and will be for some time, but it will fade as if it never existed.” Kendra didn’t sound tired or sleepy but almost energized. “The mages will not exist without a dragon.”
“They’ll die?” Tater asked, sounding hopeful.
“No, their powers will shrink and be gone by morning. Each time one of them accesses the little remaining essence, the supply grows less.”
“Me?” I asked.
“You never really accessed the core of the essence. You were like a little boy pinching off a piece of crust from a large pie. Your pie is gone.”
The discussion was not making me feel better. My only distinction in life had departed. I’d turned ordinary. My abilities to manipulate small magic had given me a leg up on everything from spying on royals to making bakers like me enough to slip me meat pies. Now it was gone, and I already felt empty.
The feelings of others who accessed essence must be worse. Mages and sorceresses lived in a world where they were revered, and now that was absen
t. Fortunetellers, gamblers, soldiers, and a hundred other occupations where some survive because of better luck or fortune would find their lives changed. A warrior who gained an advantage by unknowingly changing the direction of a spear would now die. Old ladies who predicted the fortunes some would gain would find themselves guessing wrong half the time. Because it would now be a guess instead of creating circumstances where their predictions came true.
Kendra’s face went taught. Her eyes widened as she said, “We have to leave. Now.”
Tater was already reaching for the door. Elizabeth and I were too stunned to move. Kendra leaped to her feet and followed Tater. We grabbed our few things and ran into the yard where Henry helped Tater saddle the horses.
Elizabeth slipped a pair of silver coins into his hand. Kendra said, “Give him two more. Gold. And the packhorse.”
Henry started to object the pay was far too much.
Kendra said as she pointed to where Mercia had been, and tiny twinkles of light flickered from torches carried down the road in our direction, “They are coming here and will burn your house and barn. They will kill your stock and try to hunt you down. Take the gold, ride our spare horse as far as it will take you and buy a good piece of land in a fertile valley to farm.”
“Sorry,” Elizabeth said as she fumbled for another gold coin. “We didn’t know. Take the horse and go across country. They will probably follow us but know this, they will return here. Do not be in this place, Henry. If you need anything, send word to Crestfallen, and I’ll provide help.”
With each word, the farmer had become more scared. He stripped the packs from the horse. Then he went to the barn and called his two dogs, both of which went to him, with wary looks in Springer’s way. Without another word, the farmer was trotting off across the landscape into the darkness.
Kendra said, “We need to keep ahead of them until dawn.”
“What then?” I asked as I followed the others onto the road.
“They will face the vengeance of the dragon they abused all those years.” She sat straight in her saddle and refused to look at me.
