Song of Smoke and Fire

by Megan Linski

  Smok’s eyes flicker to look at it, but he doesn’t say anything. My stomach flip flops uncomfortably and I don’t say anything more.

  As we dive farther, the light begins to fade and the sea grows dark. The water pressure swells, until I feel like it’s pressing on me from all sides. Smok slows up the pace to a paddle, looking around.

  “Is the queen nearby?” I ask, holding my head. It’s starting to ache.

  “She lives in a very large city. You cannot miss it,” he insists. Smok moves his head from this way to that frantically, almost like he’s in a panic. I don’t like the fear that shadows in his eyes. I don’t like it at all.

  I put a hand on his side. “Be still, Smok,” I say calmly. “We’ll get there, and we’ll break the curse. I promise.”

  Smok’s eyes soften. “Yes. Forgive me, dear girl, for being impatient.”

  Smok changes direction. He swims upward, until the light returns and I can see well again.

  “It’s right… there.” Smoke says. He points to a strange collection of shapes. “But wait…”

  When Smok reaches the shapes, there’s nothing there but a collection of underwater plants and boulders. All that is left of the city, it seems, is a bunch of rocks.

  “What happened to the queen?” I ask. The area looks abandoned.

  “She was here last time I searched.” Smok seems puzzled. “Perhaps she moved her kingdom. No matter. We’ll keep looking until we find it.”

  “You want us to search the entire Baltic Sea until we run into this queen?” I ask, astounded.

  “If that’s what it takes. Do you have anything better to do?” he asks.

  I open my mouth, and close it when I realize that I really don’t. “As you wish, Smok. It doesn’t matter to me. This is your journey, after all.”

  Smok thinks. “We’ll take a break. Swim up to the surface and wait for nightfall. Perhaps things will become clearer in the morning.”

  Thank the gods. The sea is beautiful, and I can’t tire of looking at it or its creatures, but my fingers are starting to prune. Smok swims upward, still looking down for the queen. As he does so, I notice two black shapes above us.

  “Smok, are those ships?” I ask, peering upward. Smok glances up.

  “Vikings,” he hisses. “Hold tight to me, Fliss, I’m going to get us out of—”

  Nets drop from above and envelop us. I scream loudly as they close in and entangle Smok’s feet within the netting,

  “What’s happening?” I shriek.

  “They want me… for my scales.” Smok struggles to break free of the nets, but they’re thick, and he can’t breathe fire underwater. Another net drops down, and then another. Smok swings to the side and launches me off his back just as the nets close around him, and I slip between the two. He’s pulled upward. I’m left floating in the water as the nets carry him away.

  “Smok!” I cry. What a terrible time for me not to know how to swim! I flounder ungracefully upwards, forcing myself through the water after the dragon. I bump my head against something hard.

  “Ow!” I say, rubbing my head. The Viking ship! Using my wit, (what little is there, anyhow) I latch onto the sides of the ship and start pulling myself upwards, rising with Smok as he fights against the netting. I break through the surface and pull myself up and over the edge of the ship.

  “Aha!” I rise up to my feet on the ship, soaking wet and raising a fist in victory.

  I’m met with a collection of very angry, very hairy, and very heavily armed men. Some of them make Smok look small in his human form.

  I’ve just climbed abroad a Norseman ship alone. On second thought, perhaps this wasn’t such a brilliant plan.

  Smok is still tangled up in the netting. He thrashes and roars in the sea, splashing water onto the boat, but with his limbs and tail caught in the net he can’t do anything. A rope lashes out, binding his mouth shut so he can’t breathe fire. Several Vikings hold it tight, and Smok is unable to tear free.

  The Norsemen on the ship proceed toward me with glinting weapons and flashing smiles.

  “Austrvegr dreki mær fagr,” one of them says. The rest of them laugh.

  “I can’t understand a word you just said, but I’m assuming it’s not good,” I utter.

  The Viking who spoke advances on me. He’s got a big beard, with strange tattoos scrawled on the side of his face and a big scar running over his eye. I’m sure he’s seen his fair share of fights.

  The Norseman reaches for me. Instinctively, I flap my arms upward like a bird in distress. I even make a squawking sound. My fist ends up hitting the Viking directly in the nose, drawing blood and making a crunch.

  My mouth drops open in shock as the Viking falls backwards. My clumsiness actually saved me, for once. His friends laugh and the Viking growls, holding his bloody nose. While he’s distracted, I dart forward and grab the knife sticking out of his belt.

  At the sight of me holding the knife out in self-defense, the Norsemen only start laughing harder. Apparently, I’m really funny looking with a weapon. I know I’m no match for these warriors. I might as well be done for.

  An idea strikes me. I can’t take on the Norsemen, but I can save Smok. Before they can make another move against me I leap off the ship and onto Smok’s back, climbing clumsily over the netting.

  They’re stabbing Smok with spears and swords. His moans of pain bring tears to my eyes, but I grit my teeth and continue on. They shoot arrows at me, but I somehow manage to duck down and avoid them. I carefully scale Smok’s spikes, climbing up them to his mouth, and start sawing around the lasso binding it. With a few slashes, the lasso falls loose.

  With his mouth free, Smok is able to fight. Smoke and fire come raging out from between his lips, lighting the ship to his left on fire. He bites the netting, to tear it, and yanks his tail free. With it, he smashes a hole in the ship to his right before swinging it around to the other side. I duck. It sweeps over my head, smashing the mainmast and snapping it in two.

  He doesn’t watch where his tail is going when it comes back around. It ends up slamming me in the gut, and my body caught is in-between two spikes.

  When he whips it back around, his tail sends me flying. I sail a few feet through the air, away from the fight, and bellyflop into the water a short distance away.

  Both ships start to go down. Vikings head for their small boats, while some abandon ship. Smok, still entangled in the netting and unable to break free, goes down with them.

  “Smok!” I cry, spitting sea water out of my mouth. Both of the ships are sinking much faster with Smok’s weight to drag them down.

  He changes, to slow the sinking, but even as a human he can’t escape the nets. I watch as the sails of the Vikings, and Smok’s head, disappear underneath the water.

  Smok broke the surface, which means he broke the spell. Can he still breathe underwater? Does he have the ability to cast the spell again?

  I don’t wait and find out. Summoning my courage and holding the Viking knife tightly, I take a deep breath and plunge after him.

  I’m barely more capable of a swimmer than I was a few hours ago. I flap my arms within the sea as I watch Smok sink slowly below me.

  At the sight of him going to a watery grave, something spurs me forward. I kick my legs as hard as I can and paddle after him, reaching out for Smok. My lungs are burning and my head feels like it’s about to burst, but I’m not leaving Smok down here to die.

  I finally grab ahold of the netting. I can feel the ships as they draw us to the bottom of the sea. I pull myself to Smok, who has gone still. His eyes are half-closed, head is bobbing within the netting in a nearly-unconscious state. Apparently, that answers my question if he could cast the spell again. He’s going to drown if I don’t get him out.

  I start sawing. Stars dot my vision and the world starts to go black around me. I want to open my mouth and breathe. I’d give anything for air. I’m fighting panic as the sea closes in, forcing myself to concentrate on the important ta
sk before me. If I can’t get Smok loose, we’re both dead. I neither have the air, the energy, or the capability left to make it to the surface on my own.

  Just as I’m about to pass out, I cut the last strand and pull Smok out of the netting.

  The minute Smok’s free, his eyes open wide, and they see me. He grabs me with one arm. He drags me away from the ship, until we’re far enough away that he can change.

  Smok explodes into a dragon. With one of his paws holding me tightly to his scaled belly, he uses his wings and tail to propel us up.

  Smok bursts out of the water and takes flight. I gasp in a precious bout of air. Nausea hits me, along with a churning feeling in my gut and the feeling that my lungs are on fire. The sound of blaring war horns fill my ears. My head feels like it’s being pounded by a hammer. Slowly, I regain my bearings. I realize that the horns are the Vikings calling for reinforcements.

  Being in the air isn’t helping me recover. I cling to Smok’s scales and try not to be sick as I look down at the sea below. There are ships gathered where the other two sank. More Norsemen are coming to help their companions. They shoot arrows at us, but Smok outmaneuvers them. He flies faster than he ever has until the Viking ships are little more than dots on the horizon.

  Smok flies over a small island, far from the Viking ships. He takes a large huff, and spirals downward. He lands on his back, curdling inward and covering me with his wings as we brace for impact.

  The sandy beach breaks our fall. Smok comes to a stop and uncurls, letting me go and changing back into a man. I look at the giant sand pile beside us. Smok’s fall was enough to create a small hill.

  He’s breathing heavily, to make up for lost energy. I turn over on my side to look at him. I barely have my own breath back.

  “Why… did…you…” He gasps. “Why did you save me?”

  “What was I supposed to do, let you die?” I ask. I take another deep breath and put a hand to my head. By the gods, it hurts.

  “It would’ve been the right thing to do,” he says. “I was ready. I would’ve accepted it.”

  “You’re a dragon,” I say quietly. “Not a monster.”

  His sad eyes change. He brings an arm around me and pulls me close, for a one-armed hug. Our clothes dry simultaneously with his heat, but he doesn’t release his hold soon after. Rather, he keeps me there. I close my eyes and enjoy it.

  After a time, he lets me go, and flops onto his back. “I don’t even know where we are,” he says. “The queen could be anywhere within these waters.”

  “We’ll find her, Smok.” I put my hands underneath my head and bring my knees to my chest. “She’s out here somewhere.”

  He nods. “You’re right. Let’s rest for a minute. We’ll continue our journey tomorrow.”

  Smok closes his eyes, to take a nap. I follow suit.

  I don’t tell him that I don’t really want us to find the queen. It would be too selfish.

  A few hours later, the sky has darkened. I wake up to find Smok around a newly-made fire, his back turned to me. It looks like he’s making dinner, along with doing something else. Perhaps whittling, or sharpening a blade. I get up to join him.

  “What’s that?” I ask curiously, peering over his shoulder. I don’t catch sight of what he’s got.

  “It’s nothing.” Smok puts whatever he was doing away in his bag, and turns to me. “I’m going to do my best to make sure you aren’t put in further danger on this trip. It’s not fair that your life is constantly at risk.”

  “It’s all right.” I sit next to him, cross-legged. “I truly don’t mind.”

  “You Pole girls are out of your minds,” Smok says, shaking his head. He stirs the pot over the burning flame.

  “I’ve had a lot of fun on this adventure,” I insist. “My life has been threatened, yes, and I’ve nearly died several times, yes, but I’ve never felt more alive. My life’s been so boring, nothing but chores and duty. Every day out here is exciting and free.”

  “You’re an unusual woman. Most wouldn’t agree with you. They’d believe me cruel for dragging you along with me on this dangerous quest,” he mumbles.

  “I like you, Smok. You’re my friend.” I grab his arm. “I don’t think you deserve to live a miserable life.”

  “You are the only one, myself included.” Smok sighs. “I just want to get this over with so I can live out the rest of my life in peace. I wish to be alone.”

  “Maybe I don’t want you to be alone,” I say. “Maybe when I’m free I’d like to stay and travel the world. With you.”

  Smok tilts his head, and his expression changes. He leans forward. An impossible hope hitches in my chest at the same time his right hand cups my face, and he kisses me.

  Yes! I allow myself to be immersed in the feeling of his lips against mine. I begin to return to affection. For a few precious moments, all I can feel is our mouths moving in unison, our emotions becoming one fluid connection. I can almost feel the flame burning inside him, like it’s my own. Perhaps it is.

  This kiss lasts so much shorter than the first one. After a few delicious seconds in paradise, Smok rips himself away. His eyes are wide and huge.

  I try to save my composure, and try not to act too hurt.

  As if it matters. The pain is written all over my face. But Smok’s is worse. Every line written in his eyes is etched with agony. He’s more scared than I’ve ever seen him.

  “I… I apologize,” Smok says. He looks away. He seems flustered. “I don’t mean any offense, I merely was carried away. I’m sorry I kissed you.”

  “Don’t be,” I whisper. “I don’t mind.”

  “I do!” He stands up, suddenly agitated. I catch the growl of a dragon in his voice. “It’s not right!”

  “What’s not right about it?” I stand up too, and put my hands on my hips. “It’s just a kiss! It’s not like you asked me to marry you!”

  Smok’s eyes become red. He starts storming off, but I’m not about to let him get away.

  “Why do you have to be so secretive?” I shout. “It’s unfair to me!”

  “There are things you don’t understand. Complications,” he says harshly. “My past would interfere with anything that could grow between us.”

  “It wouldn’t be such a problem if you’d explain it to me!” I call. I pick up my skirts and hike off after him. Clumsily, I trip over them, and almost fall face-first in the sand. “I promise not to judge!”

  “No!”

  “Why?” I ask. Tired of chasing, I stop. “Why can’t you tell me about your past?”

  I hold back for a moment, before I lick my lips and decide to chance it. “Why can’t you tell me what happened to you?”

  Smok’s face hardens. “I’m sorry, Fliss. It isn’t your pain to bear.”

  He turns away. “I need time to be alone. I won’t go far, I promise you. You won’t be in any danger.”

  Before I can object, he changes into a dragon. He blows sand in my face as his wings buffet him into the sky. He goes to the right, to loop around the island.

  “You left dinner cooking!” I scream, as loudly as I can. He keeps flying away.

  I let out an irritated huff, hike back to the fire, and plop down beside it. “Stupid dragon. What kind of man kisses a woman, then runs away?”

  Certainly not one I want around. I finish dinner, and eat grumpily. At least one thing a woman can depend on is food.

  After I finish dinner, I look up at the stars and watch them, waiting for Smok to come back. There’s love inside him. I know it. But whatever happened to him in the past has traumatized him enough that he doesn’t even want to try again.

  Does that mean I should give up trying, too? The very thought is repulsive to me.

  I lie on my back and gaze toward the heavens. I’m not ready to give up.

  Not yet. Something in my heart is telling me to hold on to Smok, and by the gods, I’m going to follow it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Smok doesn’t return until t
he next morning, which makes me so angry that I’m considering selling his scales to the Vikings myself when he finally gets back.

  “Where were you?” I ask. I ball my hands into fists as he lands on shore, and changes into a man. “I’ve been waiting for hours!”

  “I was nearby, like I told you.” He raises an eyebrow. “Are you willing to continue our search? I was up all night, and I think I might have located the queen.”

  “So that’s it. You aren’t even going to attempt to talk about what happened last night?” I ask.

  Smok grunts.

  I let out an angry growl. “Fine.” I gesture to his bag. “Just so you know, I put all your things away for you and I didn’t even look inside your bag. Though I think you should’ve come back sooner and taken care of it yourself.”

  “I’m sure you managed,” he says, and my mouth drops open in outrage. He slings the bag over his shoulder and asks, “Are you ready?”

  “Sure!” I stomp over to the water’s edge. I cross my arms, and say, “Are you going to kiss me again? It is the fastest way for the spell to work, after all. Or are you too afraid?”

  Smok’s body becomes rigid. He bends down, and quickly gives me a peck on the lips. I feel his fire and magic filling my lungs, just like last time, but the kiss lasts for shorter than a few seconds.

  He pulls away and faces the sea again, his expression as serious as ever.

  It only makes me madder. He didn’t need to make the first kiss as long and as powerful as it was. He purposely lingered. That only confirms he has feelings for me.

  And men say women are confusing. I decide not to wait for Smok and dive into the water without him.

  When he plunges beside me, he’s a dragon again. I take my usual place on his shoulders (though I really don’t want to) and hold on tight as he swims us toward an unknown destination.

  We don’t speak as he swims. Everything is silent, except for the water rushing by. Though I’m enveloped by the ocean, I find myself sinking lower and lower into my thoughts.

  What am I thinking? A dragon and a slave girl? It would never work. Smok’s sensible. He realizes that, and wants to stop what we’re doing before we get too carried away.