“The dragon?” My heart hammered in my chest. Knowing I was so close, having it confirmed, set my pulse racing. “Have you seen him yourself?”
“Only once.” His wrinkled face soured. “Though his son harasses me daily. I know no peace since his bride returned.”
“His son?”
He waved up the path towards the village. “That one before you. He comes the same time every day, demanding one of my charms.”
Looking down, I studied the display of goods. It was a sparse collection, all dried out pieces of things attached to shiny scraps with bits of string. “He looked human enough to me. What does he need with a charm if he’s a dragon? Do they not have their own magic?”
The old man chuckled. “Yes, but neither his magic, nor his father’s can restore his eye. It’s the same with the madness of his bride. Whatever curse haunts her, no one here can break it.”
My eyes popped, horrified at what that meant for Erata. “They cursed his bride? To what end?”
“Not they,” he said. “The son accuses her of it, as her means of avoiding their wedding, but he blames everyone falsely, always has. He isn’t much for logic and reason.”
My eyes lifted to the palace looming on the bluff above the village. Knowing her stubbornness as I did, I wouldn’t have discounted such a theory, but her sisters mentioned nothing of the sort. What had happened since I saw her last?
“You’re very interested in such things for an outsider,” the old man said. “What’s your purpose in coming to this place?”
Staring at the castle, my heart ached. How long did I have before it was too late?
“I seek a second chance,” I murmured. “Her fate is my fault, and I’ll see her free or die trying.”
The man sucked in a gasp. “You wish to free the betrothed of Na-gi?”
I cringed, wishing I’d kept my thoughts off my tongue. “If I did, what would you say?”
He said nothing at first, but then a wide grin spread across his face. “I would say you need more than a cloak to hide your intentions. I’ve spent thirty years waiting to repay them for the loss of my daughter. Perhaps today, fate has rewarded my patience.”
* * * * *
Li, the old merchant, directed me to his hut outside the town to wait for him, rather than sit at his stall should someone come by to recognize me later. In his absence, I rounded up what little food he had, adding in some of my own remaining rations, and cooked a meal for us. He returned near sunset, surprised by the bounty I’d prepared and marveling at what I’d done with a bit of leftover fish and some apple. With our bellies full, he told me his story, explaining much of why he was so keen to assist a stranger.
Thirty years before, his daughter had taken ill. He’d spared no expense in seeking treatment for her, but the healers had no answers as to why the girl barely stirred from her bed, dozing more than she woke, and wasting away as she ate less and less. She complained of constant pain in her bones, and even breathing strained her. As a last resort, Li sought out Sagara.
Once a month, on a night when the moon was in full, the dragon held court, opening the palace doors to petitioners. Each time, he chose a handful of people to grant favor to, but never promised specific resolutions. The dragon was tricky, and only accepted gifts of extreme value. One man offered the bones of a magical fish that granted wishes. His kingdom was in the midst of war, and he sought a promise that he would die in his bed, rather than in battle. Sagara granted him that, but before the man set out for home, he died in his tent as he slept. A woman asked for everlasting beauty in trade for the seed of a tree that would bear ripe fruit for every day it lived. The dragon placed a mask upon her face that was indeed beautiful, but could never be removed, with barely room enough to eat the smallest bites of food and restricting speech.
Li had offered all his knowledge of powerful charms in trade for healing his daughter. Sagara agreed, but would only fulfill his end when Li had shared all he knew. The dragon allowed him to transcribe those things in a book, but gave him only one hour each day, drawing out the trade until Li received word that his daughter had succumbed to her illness. Filled with anger and loss, Li remained there, waiting for an opportunity to exact his revenge.
His attention turned to me, then, and I told him of my journey. When I spoke of the three brothers that had guided me on my path, the color drained from his face.
“And you still have these gifts?” he asked, incredulous.
I nodded, producing the comb, bracelet, and feather.
Li marveled at them, touching each with absolute reverence. “Have you no idea what it is you’ve been given?”
“Strange gifts from stranger beings,” I said. “They told me nothing about them.”
He lifted the bracelet first, cupping it between his hands. “Tiger’s gift. It is strength and action. Bravery in the face of foes. Unrelenting force that springs from the shadows.” He picked up the comb. “Turtle’s gift. A piece of wisdom gathered over many generations. It has seen much of the world, and is armor against the storm.” Last, he held up the feather by the end of the quill. “The gift of the Phoenix. It is rejuvenation, hope.”
While the gifts were truly great, they would amount to mere souvenirs if I couldn’t use them. “Those are amazing blessings, but, where I come from, we only keep what we can use to survive. Are they more than symbolic, or can they help me free Erata?”
He sat back in his chair, thoughtful. “They do possess some magic, but what, I cannot say.”
I studied the items quietly, trying to place them in the puzzle of my quest. “You say Na-gi comes to you every day, looking for something to break the spell over his betrothed. Do you know any more about what ails her?”
Following along with my idea, he sat up, leaning forward on the rickety table. “A little, but he’s not confided much in me. She’s plagued with a madness, it seems. She dances through every night, speaking gibberish to the sky. At sun’s first light, she falls into slumber and cannot be woken. It’s beyond any curse I know of, and I cannot say what caused it. You mean to use these gifts to free her, I assume?”
“I do. Can they be used as charms to ward off her madness?”
He shrugged. “Unless I could see her for myself, I couldn’t say. Na-gi refuses me an audience, however. The charms I sell are all contained within the book I transcribed for Sagara. He uses that in my absence.”
Grimacing, I wished I knew more about magic, but my knowledge extended only to what I’d experienced and what little Erata’s sisters had—
“I need to use your fire,” I blurted out.
Li blinked at me, surprised by my outburst. “My fire?”
“Erata’s sisters gave me instructions, and I must speak with them immediately. They may be able to help.”
* * * * *
Between Li, Delphine, and myself, we cobbled together a loose plan. Per Li, Na-gi was quite dull, and a few simple changes to my appearance would fool him. Using magic to do so would immediately raise suspicions, so with liberal use of dye on my hair and a salve of dark pigment on my skin, I was transformed into a man more like those of Moran and Viya, rather than the fairness of Valmyr. With so little time, it was the best anyone could do. If Na-gi saw me as I truly was, he would know me instantly as the man who’d blinded him, for it could’ve been no other who’d attacked me when I’d returned to Erata’s home in the mountains. In taking his eye, it was certain he’d kill me if he saw me.
The remainder of our plan rested on Na-gi’s pride. Sagara’s son was driven to near madness to prove his worth, plagued by knowing he was not the son the dragon hoped for. If I could appeal to his need to demonstrate ingenuity and intelligence on his own, I might be able to get into the palace unseen by Sagara.
It was in that way I waited with Li at his stall by the road. The morning dragged by uneventfully, with nothing to keep us occupied but our own doubts and fears. If the dragons discovered what we intended to do, our lives would be forfeit before we realized we
were caught.
Right on schedule, Na-gi stalked down the road, the same as I’d seen the day before. It was immediately apparent he was in a foul mood, but given he’d spent as many days as Erata had been back trying to break her curse to no effect, that wasn’t surprising. A pang of pity caught me off guard. I knew what it was like to feel helpless in the face of magic, and yet, from all I knew of him, it wasn’t love, but an obsessive need for power that fueled him. Where he wished to claim, I wished to set free.
“What’s here today? Anything new?” he demanded the moment he reached us, his voice carrying the feel of rocks falling from a cliff. “Who is this? What is his business here?”
Li lowered his gaze, and I followed his lead. “He arrived only yesterday, my lord, and a blessing for us. He’s a man of some talent, and may be able to help where I have failed you.”
Na-gi cocked his head to one side, his narrowed eye scrutinizing every inch of me. “Where do you come from, and what are these talents he speaks of?”
I pushed aside my fear, thinking only of Erata, and shifted my voice into a deeper register, adding the slightest accent to some of my words: the A’s more like O’s, the t’s a softer D, as was King Ormond’s way of speaking. “I have traveled from Moran, good sir. With me, I have three magical gifts bestowed upon me by great spirits. This man has told me of your woes, and I would offer my services, if such is required.”
“I would buy these gifts from you,” Na-gi said, clasping his hands behind his back. “No price is too great.”
I tapped at my chin, pretending to consider it. “Alas, they are not for sale, and it is only my hand that can wield their magic. Perhaps another deal might be struck?”
“What gifts are these?” He sniffed at me, searching for a lie.
“Charms, good sir, bound to me by who gave them. One of them may break the spell on your betrothed, but I cannot know which without trying them all, and only I may use them.”
The silence stretched out for several long minutes as he considered me. “My father could better judge this magic. I must speak with him to—”
It would be my only chance to avoid the eyes of Sagara. “If that is your wish, but what a moment it would be to show him what you’ve managed with your own ingenuity. It would be a great deed to accomplish on one’s own. But, if it is your father’s permission I must seek—“
“I do not need my father’s permission for such a thing!” Na-gi shouted. His words crashed against me like boulders in a pond, knocking me back a step. “I am as much a master here as he!”
I bowed low, burying my fear beneath my hood. “My apologies, my lord. I know as much is true, and I would never wish to insult you. I only meant to offer you an opportunity to demonstrate your greatness.”
“Come to the eastern gate of the palace at sunset,” he snapped. “I will show you my greatness there, and grant you an evening to prove these gifts of yours are as powerful as you say. Do not disappoint me, human, for only my patience has its limits.”
Head down, I accepted the invitation. Na-gi stormed off, back up the road, and my course was set.
That night, I would set eyes on Erata once more.
Chapter 21
The smooth, gray walls of the palace loomed before me as I picked my way up the narrow road. Had my stomach not been twisted into a giant knot, it would’ve rumbled loudly after such a sparse dinner. As it was, I’d barely managed the few bites of bread and cup of tea Li forced on me, but there was nothing for it. My fear wrapped around me like a heavy winter cloak, threatening to strangle me in its grasp. The path around the far side of the plateau was less used and far more treacherous than the main road I’d glimpsed on my way, yet if I was to see Erata, I needed to earn my second chance. After what I’d cost her, I deserved no less.
When I reached the small strip of flat ground that ran between the palace and the cliff’s edge, I feared I’d lose my footing and fall I was such a wreck. In an attempt to prepare myself for meeting Na-gi, I sucked in several deep, calming breaths, focusing instead on the story I was to tell him that evening. I went over each detail three times before I reached the door in the most eastern spire, and my mind finally settled.
Looking out across the canyon, I waited, watching the shifting colors of the cloudless, dry sky as day descended into night. As it had been during my time with her in Valmyr, my patience grew shorter by the second, anxious to be with Erata again. No matter the outcome of my journey, I knew I would always associate the night with her, the short hours we had in the absolute darkness, the stolen, tender moments we’d shared before I’d thrown it away. My heart lived only for those times. If my life was to be without her, it would be hollow and plagued with bitter regret.
As pink faded to violet, the wooden door creaked open, a single sapphire eye peering out at me. When he saw me, Na-gi opened it swiftly, hurrying me inside.
“What charm will you use on my bride-to-be? I must know.” His words skittered like gravel as he whispered.
Centering my resolve, I slipped into my story, producing the turtle’s comb from from inside my cloak. “If she is as you say, her mind may lack the wisdom to see its way out of her curse. With this, I hope to instill her with reason.”
He reached for it, but I pulled it back.
“Only I may perform the ritual, my lord. I will need a solitary space alone with the girl, along with these items.” I produced a scrap of parchment inscribed with things Delphine listed for me.
Na-gi scanned the list, scowled at me, but nodded and motioned me to follow silently. We traveled through narrow, empty corridors, winding through the palace in absolute quiet. I lost track of the staircases for as many as we went up and down. The hallways twisted around like a great maze, and the two bridges we traversed were from within the structure, as though they were mid-air tunnels.
At last, we wound our way down into the bowels of the building, into a crypt lit by torches every ten paces. From further on, whimpers of fear carried through the darkness, the lamentations of poor souls forgotten in the depths. Though we passed dozens of barred, wooden doors, we didn’t stop until we reached the very end of the passage. The door there was different from the rest, as lines of silver swirled across its face, and embedded blue jewels sparkled in the dim torchlight.
Na-gi set his hand on the knob. “She is here, not yet awake. First, know this. If any harm comes to her, no matter how small, you will pay with your life. She is meant to be mine, and I will not have her spoiled by the likes of a filthy vagabond.”
Meant to be his? My anger boiled, but I clamped down on it. If I spoke my mind he would kill me without question, and Erata would remain a prisoner forever.
“I swear no harm will come to her under my care, my lord.”
A turn of the handle, and I was admitted.
“I will send someone with the items you asked for, but no other shall come until an hour before dawn,” he said, growling. “You will speak of this to no one.”
I nodded, and he left without further comment, the lock clicking into place behind him.
Turning from the doorway, I sucked in a sharp gasp. Moonlight flooded in from a single window, bathing the room’s polished white stone in gleaming silver. Across the cold tiles I crept, slowly easing towards the only thing there that mattered at all.
She was the same as the singular time I’d seen her: pale skin, hair nearly white, her body draped in silver silk. As I stood there, marveling at the face that lived in my dreams, her eyes slowly opened, her icy blue eyes filling with moonlight.
“Erata…” I whispered, reaching out to her.
She sat up with a start, her gaze fixed out the window. “Awake at last!” she cried, leaping out of bed.
“Erata, it’s—”
My words died on my lips as she danced around the room, spinning through the light. Several times I tried to catch her, to speak with her, but it was as though I wasn’t even there. She evaded my grasp, and when she looked at me, her gaze passed through
me like I was made of glass.
Rather than fight her, I lowered myself onto the edge of the bed to sit. With no fire, I had no means of contacting Delphine to ask for help. An hour passed that way, and an old servant entered bearing the things I’d requested. He set the pail of water near the door, and placed the linen cloth, candles, and sage on a small table, lighting an oil lamp before he left.
For the sake of appearances, I arranged all the items on the floor, just out of reach of the moonlight. The linen spread on the ground, I placed the pail in the center, four candles around it. The fifth candle I lit from the lamp, then used it to light the four and the sage, and brought the smoke to each corner of the room before putting it out. That done, I settled in to watch Erata.
“To love the moon is to embrace her untold depths.”
Her movements were a wonder to behold. As she danced, she hummed a strange tune, occasionally singing a word or phrase about the moon, stars, or sky.
“In silvery beams we dance, offering of ourselves what none can take.”
None of it made any sense to me. After a while, the song dissolved into nonsense ramblings.
“On dreams I fly, up to the rabbit who misses the sound of leaves.”
Standing to stretch my stiff knees, I paced the back of the room, shooting glances her way when she’d spout something new. She was not the Erata I’d come to know, but how to stop whatever drove her madness?
“Who will sing with me? Where has the music gone? I hear no voices anymore, save for hers.”
After hours of Erata’s dancing, the moon drifted out of sight from the window. She leaned against the wall beside it, her small hand pressed against the pane as she let out a long, sad sigh. “Our time is at an end, but I shall wait until your return.”
Quietly, I crept up beside her. As gently as I could, I slipped the comb up and into her hair, securing it away from her face.
“This is my first gift to you, Erata,” I whispered to her. “You may not know me now, but I swear on my life I will free you from the enchantment that holds you. Know this is true, and know you are loved. Even when all is darkness, I will find you.”
Ride the Wind: A Flipped Fairy Tale (Flipped Fairy Tales Book 3) Page 20
