“Why? Dragons are wonderful, and being inside one is the most amazing feeling.”
Garrett laughed. “Inside its mind, maybe. Inside its belly, probably not. And that’s where we’ll all be if things go wrong.”
~~~~~
Late in the afternoon, Garrett left Ruell to his dragons and went out into the decayed gardens surrounding the palace. They must have been quite something, once, for here and there were the clear remains of design: a sunken garden, its symmetry still visible, a fountain or pool, filled with mud and rotting weeds, a statue or archway, the marble untouched by time. But the shade trees were bare or fallen altogether, choked with brown creepers, and overgrown shrubs sported dry, rattling leaves. Desiccated grass stems clattered together, their plumes above Garrett’s head. Nothing grew here, and the vegetables for the palace kitchens were tended in a sheltered spot elsewhere on the island.
He knew the way well, now, the path winding up the hill, always mysteriously clear of debris except for the occasional leaning stem of a moonrose. When he’d first lived on the island, he’d spent some time clearing them away, but the next day they’d magically be back so he gave it up. There was no point fighting the malicious wishes of a mage dead for millennia.
At the top of the hill, almost invisible behind the waving grasses, was the so-called Handmaiden’s Temple, a small stone pavilion with a domed roof. It was Tella’s special hiding place, where she came for the afternoon stillness, sometimes alone and sometimes not. She wouldn’t be here so late in the day, though, and Garrett had got into the habit of coming here sometimes when he was worried or needed to think.
Inside, painted glass windows spilled colour onto cushioned benches and a fragrantly steaming pool. The pool was always steaming, always just the right temperature, ready perhaps for a mage who would never again bathe here. Garrett undressed and stepped into the water with a sigh of bliss. What more could a man ask for than a hot bath, followed by a decent supper and a mug or two of ale? A woman, perhaps, to bring the ale and then linger for a chat and a kiss or two, and maybe something more. But if he had to choose just one of them, he’d probably go for the bath. Or maybe the supper, but the woman would be well down the list. Then he laughed at himself. He must be getting old.
He soaped himself all over with the sweetly-scented soap that was always here, waiting to be used, yet never diminished. Then he lay back, his head on a folded towel, and let the warmth seep into his bones and soothe away the aches that plagued him more than he’d like to admit. Time was, he could spend all day in the training court and the night just as energetically, and leap out of bed the next morning ready for a repeat performance. But too many fights and wounds came at a cost. If he hadn’t got his glass ball, his joints would be creaking first thing, and his back aching by evening, and he’d be watching himself begin the slow descent into old age.
Thirteen years he’d lived on the island, glad of food he hadn’t had to steal or barter for or even cook himself. Nothing much to do except train the youngsters, and run errands for Tella and Kestimar, and watch Ruell grow up. No endless war to fight, no journeying across half the continent, no waking up in yet another strange bed, eating strange food, struggling with barely-understood languages and coins.
But now, he had to leave and his heart quailed at the prospect. It was bad enough leaving his son behind, with no one but his half-deranged mother and the wholly-deranged Kestimar to look after him. For the first time in years, Garrett would be alone, with only the ghosts of the past and his memories for company.
He was deep in self-pity when he heard the click of the door. Kestimar? Then he smiled inwardly at his own stupidity. Kestimar couldn’t get himself along the path and up the steps, and Savroan would never bring him. It could only be—
“Do you want company?” she said, her perfume wafting towards him.
“There’s plenty of room for two in here, as you know perfectly well.”
There was a ripple of laughter, low and enticing. He didn’t look round, but he heard the whisper of garments dropped to the floor. Then she was stepping down into the water on the far side of the pool. He said nothing, waiting. She liked to tease, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of responding to her provocation. Still, there was no harm in admiring her still-firm body, the skin smooth and unblemished, like a girl. He hoped Mikah appreciated the results of Garrett’s magic. And if she wanted a change from Mikah’s youthful ardour… well, why not?
“Garrett…” He’d never heard such uncertainty in her voice.
“I’m listening.”
“You won’t stop, will you? Using it, I mean. The globe thing. Your magic. Because I don’t want to suddenly look my age again. I know that’s vain of me, but the way I look… it’s important to me. It’s a part of me, like your swordarm muscles and Ruell’s dragons. I… I’ve been so happy since you started keeping me young, and I truly don’t know what I’d do if you were to stop.”
He gazed at her thoughtfully. “You do know that I have to leave, don’t you?”
“What?” The water sloshed as she sat upright. “No! You mustn’t. I forbid it.”
That brought a shake of the head. “You can’t make me stay, and you surely understand why I have to go.”
“Because of Kestimar? I can handle him.”
“No, you can’t. No one can. If I hadn’t had the ball with me today to deflect that knife, he’d have killed me and there wasn’t a thing either of us could have done about it. He’ll try again, and he won’t stop trying until he succeeds. Next time it might be poison or an arrow through the throat at the training court. I can’t always have the ball with me, and I won’t spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, waiting for him to succeed.”
“He’s wanted to kill you for years and never done anything about it,” she said.
“And now he has. He didn’t know I had a magic ball to protect me, or that I carried it around with me whenever I can, so he chose not to try anything, even though he must have been carrying those knives around with him for years. Hechosenot to kill me, Tella, and now he’schosen to do it, and he won’t rest until he’s got rid of me.”
“Then kill him first.”
“No. Never.”
“So you’re running away,” she said, her voice dripping with scorn. “I hadn’t set you down as a coward, Garrett. You’ve never shied away from risk before.”
“I like a risky venture as much as the next man,” he said, “but I prefer it if the odds are in my favour. If they’re not, that’s when I move on. It’s been very pleasant, but I’ll be on my way tomorrow.”
“And what about me? Are you going to leave me here alone with Kestimar?”
“You’re the one who took up with him in the first place. He’s your penance, you said.”
He could see the calculation on her face, and the elation when she remembered that she had a son. “What about Ruell? Are you going to leave him to Kestimar?”
Garrett flushed uneasily. Ruell was the weak point in his argument. “I don’t think Kestimar would hurt him,” he said but even to his own ears it sounded uncertain. “He grumbles about him, but he’s always saved his real venom for me.”
“He’ll want to get his revenge on you one way or another. If he can’t get at you, he’ll take it out on Ruell, you know he will. You have to stay, for Ruell’s sake.”
She smiled in triumph, knowing that he was caught. Would Kestimar harm Ruell? He didn’t think so – the man was evil, but he was clever, too, and would never risk alienating Tella once and for all. But could he take the chance?
He sighed, accepting his fate. “Fuck you, Tella,” he said without rancour.
“What a good idea,” she said, tipping her head seductively to one side. “Come here, Garrett.”
And meekly, like a pet dog, he went.
They were getting dressed afterwards when there was a distant clanging noise, like a badly made bell.
“Whatever’s that?” Tella said, unconcerned, head
bent to fasten the buttons on one sleeve.
“Oh, sweet Gods!” Garrett said, reaching for his swordbelt in sudden haste. “It’s Mikah’s new alarm. Thedragon alarm. There’s a dragon coming.”
14: Visitors (Ruell)
Ruell squealed with delight. At last! After hours of trying, he’d finally managed to connect with a dragon new to him. This one was a big male, more wine-coloured than red, who thought himself a fine, handsome fellow and was not at all pleased to meet Ruell. At least, his manner was abrupt, and Ruell interpreted that as annoyance. He was curious, though – all dragons seemed to have that curiosity about humans. He wanted to know all about Ruell, and what the palace was like and exactly where it was situated.
Ruell explained it as best he could, and then added,“If you fly towards the western coast, maybe I’ll see something I can recognise and I can guide you closer. I’d love to see you properly.”
The dragon’s mind rumbled with what Ruell guessed was amusement.“I do not need guidance, human. And I should like to see you, too. Very much.”
Now that he’d got the hang of it, his conversations with dragons were on much more of an equal footing. It truly felt like a conversation, rather than eavesdropping on the creature’s thoughts. He could detect their emotions clearly, too, although not everything swirling around Maajhasha’s mind just then was understandable in human terms. Dragons were complicated beasts, and not at all like humans.
So he chatted to Maajhasha and watched the endless ocean skimming by beneath his wings, and once or twice he spotted a couple of other dragons flying nearby, in the same direction.
“I see you’ve got some friends with you.”
Maajhasha made a sound that was surely laughter. “I have. They want to meet you, too, human. I see that makes you happy.”
“Of course! I want to meet all of you – all the dragons in the world. Are there many of you left?”
This time the sound was less pleasing.“Enough.”
Ruell was assailed by a ripple of uncertainty. Enough? Enough for what? And how many friends was Maajhasha bringing along on this little adventure?
He backed out of Maajhasha’s mind and let his senses roam about, looking for the bright star in his mind that was his new acquaintance. Ah, there it was, but—
Ruell gave an involuntary gasp of surprise. Maajhasha’s star was trailed by a score or more of others, flying in a neat formation, like geese. That was… flattering, he supposed, that they were all coming to see him. Yet he couldn’t suppress a burst of alarm. So many dragons! And Maajhasha was the only one he could connect to.
Or was he? No, he could choose which dragon to talk to. This was getting easier, spotting a dragon mind and inserting himself into it, even ones he’d never met before. He jumped from one to another, amused by the jolt of awareness in each as they recognised that he was there. He didn’t say anything, but none of them seemed friendly, in the way that Allavrissha had been, when she’d come to find him when he’d fallen. He couldn’t be quite sure about dragon emotions, but judging by the burst of rage that washed over him each time he jumped to a new dragon, he guessed their prevailing mood was anger.
No, this wasn’t good. He jumped back to Maajhasha’s mind, and now that he knew what it was, he saw the rage boiling in him. How could he not have known that before? The dragon was mad with anger, and was flying towards the palace with twenty or more of his dragon friends.
But it was all right. He was a dragon caller, he controlled them. All he had to do was to tell them to go away.
“Maajhasha? Why are you coming here?”No answer.“I’m your friend, I mean you no harm.”No answer.“Maajhasha, I am a dragon caller and I command you to turn back!”
There was no answer.
Ruell had a moment of sheer terror, frozen with panic. What by all the Gods was he to do? Twenty angry dragons were heading his way and he had no idea what to do.
Garrett! He needed Garrett. He’d know what to do, he always did. He tore out of his room and down the stairs so fast that once or twice he almost missed a step and fell. Somehow he got to the bottom of the tower, and crunched over the leaves in the entrance hall. He yelled across the courtyard to the guards posted at the entrance to the Queen’s Tower.
“Where’s Garrett? Have you seen him?”
But they shook their heads. He raced through corridors and empty courtyards, in and out, up stairs, across bridges, down again. Garrett was nowhere to be found, no one had seen him for hours. It was close to sunset – even if he’d gone out onto the island, surely he’d be back by now? Although it was brightmoon, so perhaps—
The alarm sounded, at first far away, then from the roof patrol post practically over his head, making him almost jump out of his skin. It sounded like a giant version of the gong the cook used to announce supper. He was high up on a bridge that connected two mismatched parts of the palace, so there was nothing to shield him from the sound.
But between the clangs of the alarm was another sound faint and far away.
“Ruell! Ruell! Down here!”
He looked over the parapet of the bridge. There, far below, was his mother, with Garrett alongside yelling up at him. With a wave, Ruell ran for the stairs. They met him half way up.
“Better view from the top,” Garrett said. “Come on.”
He ran straight past Ruell and on upwards. Ruell spun to follow, leaving Tella to make her way up at a statelier pace. From the middle of the palace rose a tall, slender tower, higher than any other part of the building. The top of it only accommodated one or two people at a time, with a narrow twisting stair the only access, so it was impractical for a regular guard post, but it had the best view on the island.
Ruell puffed up the stair in Garrett’s wake, and squeezed onto the tiny covered platform at the top. Garrett was rummaging in his bag, before pulling out the glass ball.
“No seeing tube,” he muttered. “Ball, show me the dragon.”
The ball flared with light for a moment, then died away.
“Hmm. It usually manages to know what I mean. Can you see it, Ruell? I can’t see a thing and if it’s coming from the west the sun will hide it. It must be close, or they wouldn’t have sounded the alarm. Where is it?”
Wordlessly, Ruell pointed. He didn’t need a seeing tube to know the direction, for the stars in his mind were so bright now that he was aware of them even with his eyes wide open, and drenched in the rays of the setting sun.
“Really? I don’t see it. Your eyes must be good.”
“Them,” Ruell whispered.
“What was that?” Garrett, said absently, shading his eyes with one hand.
“Them. Not it, them.”
For an instant, Garrett was too focused on the far distance to register Ruell’s words. Then he froze. “Them?” Slowly he spun round to face Ruell. “Them?”
Ruell nodded. “Twenty. Roughly.”
“You called them?”
Another nod. “They’re coming here for me, and… and they’re angry but they won’t listen to me and I can’t make them go away again.”
“Oh.Twenty dragons.”
“About that many. Not exactly sure. Garrett, I don’t know what to do.”
To his surprise, Garrett burst out laughing. “With dragons, there’s only one thing to do – run! Fast as you can. Try to get down into the cellars. Go on! Now!”
They ran, meeting Tella halfway up the narrow stair and frustratedly following her slowly down again, for there was no room to pass. Down at the lower levels, all was chaos. In the courtyard outside the Queen’s Tower, the guards were gone, and people ran this way and that, carrying screaming children. Garrett yelled at them to go to the cellars.
“Trying to!” one elderly woman yelled back. “Can’t run like you.”
A group of guards, swords drawn, ran the opposite way.
“Swords are no use!” Garrett shouted at them. “Twenty of the buggers.”
“Twenty! Gods!”
“Get these people
down below.”
“Right.” Sheathing their swords, they set off in a different direction, scooping up the old woman as they ran.
“You, too,” he said to Tella.
“I have to rescue Kestimar. He’ll be waiting in the supper room, Savroan will have gone, and the kitchen staff won’t have arrived yet. He’ll be alone, Garrett, unable to move, and if the windows are open…”
“Got it. I’ll find him. You and Ruell get down into the cellars.”
“Not a chance. I’m coming—”
The sky darkened, and a distinctly fishy smell wafted over them. They dived for the door to the Queen’s Tower and slammed it shut.
“That makes things more difficult,” Garrett said. “Are any of the cellars accessible from here?”
“No,” Tella said. “The main cellar for dry goods is under the throne room. The cheese cellar is under the boatmen’s wing and the root cellar under the kitchens. We’ll have to go out in the open again to get to any of them.”
Garrett grunted. “We’ll worry about that later. Let’s get Kestimar first.”
“Look…” Ruell said, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “It’s me they’re looking for. If I go out—”
“No!” said Tella and Garrett in unison.
“Certainly not,” she said.
“Never show yourself to the enemy,” Garrett said. “Keep your head down, don’t make yourself conspicuous, stay together, don’t be a hero. Those principles have got me through more battles than I care to remember, and it was Kestimar who taught me all of them, so let’s go and rescue him.”
They made their way up the wide stairs and through the sitting room, where the dragons’ eggs sat on their shelves. They took their time, now, for there was no point in rushing when the dragons were already here. Ruell ran his fingers over the first egg as he passed, then pulled his hand back with a yelp.
“What is it?” Garrett said sharply, spinning on his heel.
“They’re calling to the adults.”
The Dragon Caller (Brightmoon Book 9) Page 13
