Silverwitch

by Tamara Grantham

  “I can try, but I can’t promise I’ll be successful in restoring your memories, and it will have to wait.”

  Several more dragons fell until only two remained—a small, blue-gray and a larger brown, diamond-backed beast. The blue-gray had speed and agility on its side. It moved with a lithe nimbleness and used its stealth to its advantage. The brown monster looked older, with barbs lining its head and running down its neck, ending with large spikes at the end of its long, snakelike tail. Its yellow eyes looked calculating and dangerous, as if it were only waiting for the right moment to strike.

  The blue-gray snapped at the larger one’s neck, tearing the flesh, and the brown dragon shrieked and soared upward. Blue-gray followed. They clashed at the top of the dome, clawing and biting until they were both covered in open wounds.

  Below the dragons, Jahr’ad’s people cheered, their shouts mingling with the dragons’ roars. In a split second, the brown dragon lashed out with a powerful burst of fire, blasting and singeing the smaller dragon, forcing it into a corner where the white-hot fire singed the blue-gray’s scales. The smaller dragon fell and landed in a bloody, smoking heap on the arena floor. The smell of burning flesh pervaded the air, and I watched in disgust as several men threw ropes around the dragon’s corpse and hauled it off the field.

  The brown dragon watched from above like a hawk scanning its prey.

  “We have a champion,” Jahr’ad shouted.

  Clapping and cheering deafened my ears.

  Jahr’ad pointed at Kull. “It’s your turn, Wult, but we can’t have you fight an injured dragon. It wouldn’t be fair. We’d like to see a fair match, wouldn’t we?”

  “Yes,” the crowd cheered.

  “We can’t have a healthy man battling an injured dragon. It wouldn’t be right, would it?”

  “No!” the crowd roared back.

  “Then we will even the match,” Jahr’ad called. “Bring out the dragon whip. Two lashes ought to do the trick. We’d still like him a little healthy—oh, and leave him tied up. We’ll see if those stories about the jagamoor are true. We’re going to watch a fair fight after all!”

  I cursed under my breath. Jahr’ad had gone too far this time. “What in the world are they thinking?” I muttered as I charged toward Maveryck and grabbed his tunic. Magic rippled through my veins. “You can’t let them hurt him.”

  He glanced at my hand on his collar. “Do you think I have the ability to stop them?”

  “Yes, I do. They’re going to hurt him, Maveryck. You can’t let it happen.”

  “I assure you, if I had the ability to stop this, I would do it.”

  Anger rose within me. “Fine. If you won’t stop them, then I will.”

  I marched toward the crowd where Jahr’ad and Zariah gathered around a tall wooden post and prepared to tie Kull to it.

  “Jahr’ad!” I shouted.

  Keeping my magic trapped inside was no longer a possibility, so I let it flow from my hands and my heart, rippling in waves of amber and blue, so strong it distorted my vision.

  Surprised, Jahr’ad spun around. I let my magic wrap around the man and tighten around his neck, slowly compressing his windpipe.

  I am so sick of this stupid man.

  Jahr’ad’s men grabbed my arms, but I kept my magic wrapped around their leader.

  “So,” Jahr’ad gasped, “I should have known it was you. You… you’re no merchant. I know who you are, Sky King’s ward.”

  I tightened the magic around his neck, and he choked on his words.

  “Release him,” Zariah demanded.

  “No,” I shouted back. “This has gone too far. I won’t let you hurt the king.”

  I glanced at Kull as they removed his shirt and tied him to the post. Why wasn’t he fighting? Was he seriously okay with this?

  Jahr’ad’s face turned blue. I didn’t care. Deep inside, in that place where I kept Theht’s consciousness, came a surge of excitement. What would it feel like to cause another’s death?

  A cold sensation wrapped around my magic and snuffed it out. I stumbled and fell backward, hitting the ground, trying to make sense of what had happened to my magic. Zariah stood over me with red sparks dancing through her eyes. Her magic encased me, absorbing my own power until I had nothing left inside.

  “I wouldn’t try that again,” she said.

  Jahr’ad stood straight as he gasped for breath. “Tie her up,” he said. “And keep her powers away. We’ll deal with her after the fight.”

  Rough hands encircled my arms. Jahr’ad’s men tied my ankles and wrists with thick rope that burned as it rubbed against my skin. I kept my eyes on Zariah. How had she so easily taken my powers? What sort of magic did she wield that would allow her to do such thing? I only hoped I could find a way to get my powers back.

  Two of Jahr’ad’s men placed me on a bench in the corner. Maveryck watched from his spot in the shadows, and after the men had left, he came and stood beside me.

  “I am sorry it has turned out like this,” he said. “I assure you I will do everything I can to—”

  “Save your breath. You betrayed us,” I said. “What were you possibly thinking when you led us to this place?”

  “The information we gain will be worth the price.”

  “Worth the price? It will be worth watching Kull die?”

  “I am confident he will not die. However, your stepfather will most assuredly die—and he will die soon—if we fail to uncover the mystery of the lotus cube.”

  “I still think this was a horrible idea.”

  “I agree these are not the best of circumstances, but you must trust me when I say it will be worth it.”

  Kull didn’t scream as the men lashed him with the whip, but I didn’t expect him to. Brown watched from overhead as Kull’s blood dripped to the ground.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Isn’t anyone going to stop this?

  I watched helplessly from my seat in the corner as Brown leapt off his perch and circled overhead. Maveryck and Heidel both stood beside me. Heidel leaned against the wall with her arms crossed as she watched her brother struggle, tied to the post in the arena’s center.

  Blood dripped from Kull’s back as two long slashes split his skin open. I couldn’t believe Heidel was doing nothing to defend him. What was wrong with her?

  “Heidel, you have to help him,” I said.

  “Help him? I hate him.”

  “No, you don’t. You know he would do the same for you.”

  “Only if it suited his own purposes.”

  “That’s not true. How many times has he sacrificed himself to save you?”

  She mumbled something under her breath. “Fine,” she said. “Perhaps you are right. But I fail to see what I can do to help him.”

  “Unfortunately, I have to agree,” Maveryck said. “Jahr’ad’s men will do the same to Heidel as they did to you, or worse.”

  “Then what are we supposed to do?” I asked. “Watch him die?”

  The dragon let out a piercing roar. Red magic glowed from the beast’s scales, from the tip of its snout to the spines on its tail. Rage fueled the dragon’s movements as it circled overhead.

  Kull was still tied to the post. My heart beat at a frantic pace in my chest. It couldn’t end this way. There had to be something I could do to stop this.

  “Maveryck,” Heidel demanded, “you are the one who brought us here. If he dies, you will be held on charges of conspiring to murder the king.”

  “I have done no such thing. And you underestimate your king’s abilities. You both do.”

  I swore. If I’d had magic right then, Maveryck would have been a pile of cinders.

  “I do not underestimate him,” Heidel said. “I am aware of his capabilities, and I am also very aware of his weaknesses.”

  The dragon soared lower, flapping its wings and creating a dust cloud that obscured the field. The fine sediment tasted gritty on my tongue, and
I coughed as it entered my throat. I couldn’t bear to watch Kull, tied up and struggling, defenseless against the monster. This wasn’t a fight. This was an execution.

  As the dust cleared, we found Kull standing away from the pillar on the opposite side of the room, holding the rope in his hand.

  “What?” Heidel gasped. “How did he do that?”

  “As I said,” Maveryck answered, “you underestimate him.”

  The dragon soared lower and snapped at Kull, but he dodged aside. He found a discarded mace inside the arena and grabbed it off the ground. Kull swung the mace around his head, stirring the dust around him. His muscles rippled as he swung the weapon, and his face was set with grim determination. Kull was in his element, in the heat of battle, sweat beading on his naked torso and dripping down the ridges of his muscles.

  The dragon dipped toward Kull once again, but this time, Kull swung the club and knocked the beast’s joint where the wing met the creature’s body. Smart move on Kull’s part, as the dragon shrieked and crashed to the ground. The injury was enough to take away the creature’s ability to fly, which gave Kull an advantage as long as he could avoid the dragon’s fire.

  The monster rounded, limping, with one wing dragging the ground. The beast snapped at Kull, but he jumped back, out of the dragon’s reach. Brown exhaled a breath of fire that streamed toward Kull, but the warrior ducked and rolled away. Fire ignited the wooden posts and several of the wooden tables, crackling as it consumed the fuel, making smoke and embers flit through the room. The smell of burning wood pervaded the air.

  Brown limped toward Kull, slowly sizing him up as he paced from one corner of the field to the other. Kull looked savage with the mace swinging in his hand, his hair damp and slicked to his forehead, sweat making the skin on his bare torso shine in the light cast from the fires.

  “Come,” Kull yelled, swinging the mace.

  The beast continued pacing, the way a lion would size up its prey. As the creature came closer toward me, I noticed long, feather-thin spines around its face, most likely venomous.

  Firelight glowed through the billowing smoke, giving the cavern an eerie, orange cast. My eyes watered as the smoke’s pungent scent filled the room. I worked my hands open and closed, feeling empty without my magic. Sweat slicked my forehead, and I tasted its saltiness on my tongue.

  As I watched the monster circle Kull, my heart pounded in my chest. I’d seen him take down a dozen men. I’d seen him fight goblins and slaughter dragons twice his size. I should have been confident in his abilities to take down one dragon, so why did I feel so nervous?

  The beast struck out, faster than I thought it was capable of moving, and rammed its massive head into Kull’s chest. Kull fell back, and the monster nearly trampled him, but Kull rolled to the side and avoided it.

  “He’ll be all right,” Maveryck said.

  “You don’t know that,” I said.

  “You don’t have confidence in him?”

  “I have plenty of confidence in him, but I also realize he’s mortal.”

  The dragon roared and let out a massive fireball. Flames exploded around us, deafening me. In the chaos, I could hardly make out where Kull had gone and feared the worst. The crowd surrounding the arena clambered away from the flames. Chunks of burning wood fell from the ceiling and crashed to the ground. Frantic screams echoed through the domed room.

  “Maveryck, untie me,” I called over the chaos.

  “But Jahr’ad—”

  “I don’t care about Jahr’ad. Untie me!”

  He huffed, but then knelt beside me and loosened the knots in the ropes. Heidel did the same, and then they helped me stand as flames engulfed the cavern.

  A hoarse, primal scream cut through the noise, and the sounds of yelling died down until we were left with only the sounds of crackling flames.

  “Jahr’ad,” Kull yelled.

  Through the flames, I saw Kull’s silhouette standing atop the lifeless form of the dragon. I almost didn’t recognize the man, shirtless, covered in blood, his hands clenching the mace as it swung back and forth, making the chain clink. Embers drifted past him on waves of hot, shimmering air. He looked like something from a legend—something primal—a force of destruction. Was this really the same man I’d spent my time with, who’d discussed building libraries, who spent his time reading books and making friendly chitchat with elven nobles? No, this wasn’t the Kull I knew.

  My breathing grew shallow as I stared at the man atop the beast. Was this really the person I intended to spend the rest of my life with?

  “Jahr’ad,” Kull shouted. “Show yourself!”

  Silence answered. As I stared around the empty balconies, the thought struck me that perhaps Jahr’ad’s men had been prepared for the fire and they’d all headed into the inner chambers until the flames died out.

  “Jahr’ad,” Kull repeated. “Where are you?”

  Jahr’ad and Zariah appeared from the flames. Streamers of crimson magic wrapped around the two as they approached Kull. Maveryck, Heidel, and I also approached the room’s center. Ash flitted on invisible waves of overheated air, creating a maelstrom of flickering embers funneling around Kull as he stood atop the dragon’s corpse.

  Blood trickled from a small wound in his chest. The cut didn’t look deep, but with the angry red streaks fanning outward around the gash, I was fairly certain he’d been infected with dragon venom.

  “You killed my dragon,” Jahr’ad shouted.

  “So I have.” Kull swung the mace and embedded the spiked ball with a low thunk deep in the dragon’s hide. He leapt to the ground. His eyes smoldered as he stood straight and faced Jahr’ad.

  “Now, you will tell us the secrets of the witch’s spell.”

  “Not so fast, Wult. That dragon gave you a good dose of poison. As I see it, you’ll be dead soon, so you haven’t won at all. I owe you nothing.”

  “No, Jahr’ad,” Maveryck said, “that was not the deal. He beat your dragon. Now you must uphold your end of the bargain.”

  Jahr’ad worked his jaw back and forth. “Fine, we’ll deal in the morning.”

  “No,” Maveryck said, blocking his path. “We’ll deal now or not at all.”

  “You’re pushing your luck with me, thief.”

  Maveryck set his jaw. Grim determination shone in his eyes. “Let’s hope you don’t push mine.”

  I had to admit, Maveryck could stand his ground when he wanted.

  The two men faced one another without speaking until Jahr’ad turned around and headed for the tunnels. “Fine, but this had better end quickly.” He marched out of the domed area and back into the catacombs. I stayed back to keep pace with Kull.

  “You’re hurt,” I said.

  He glanced at the blood trickling down his chest. “I’ve had worse.”

  “But it’s poisoned, and I don’t have my magic to heal you.”

  “I’ve been poisoned before and lived through it. I’ll be fine.”

  “You always say that,” I said.

  “And I’m always right.”

  “Brother,” Heidel said as she marched toward us, “listen to Olive for once. There is a healer here in the caves. We should take you to him.”

  “No,” Kull said. “I don’t trust anyone here. If you’re really worried about me, then we’ll have to restore Olive’s magic.”

  “How?” I asked.

  He gave me a crazed smile. “We take it back.”

  “Zariah won’t like it.”

  “She doesn’t have to.” Kull tromped toward the open doorway.

  Heidel sighed in annoyance as she watched her brother exit the room. “You must marry him soon and take him away to Earth Kingdom. I’m done with dealing with him.”

  I wasn’t sure how my marriage to her brother, if it ever happened, would keep her from dealing with him, but I didn’t argue as I followed her down the hallway. Only a few fires still smoldered. The scent of smoke lingered in my
hair. I couldn’t wait to be free of this place, assuming Kull didn’t die first and Jahr’ad actually cooperated and gave us the stone’s message.

  We entered a tunnel that ended in a single room. A wooden table took up the space at the room’s center. Jahr’ad, Zariah, and two of Jahr’ad’s men sat across from Kull and Maveryck. The lotus cube sat on the table’s center, swirling bands of golden magic churning through the glassy surface. The object was deceptively beautiful.

  Heidel and I sat on either side of Kull. Maveryck sat pensively across from Jahr’ad, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

  “No person has ever beaten my venom-drake,” Jahr’ad said. “The Wult must have cheated. It’s the only explanation. More than a dozen men have been killed by that beast, and I’ve lost count of how many dragons it’s bested. He’s used magic—that’s the only way he could have beaten it.”

  “However,” Maveryck said calmly, “he did indeed beat the dragon. No matter how improbable it may seem, the dragon has been killed. We do not wish to keep you any longer than necessary. Tell us, what is the meaning of this stone?”

  Jahr’ad huffed, looking from Maveryck to the stone. “No. I will not. I refuse.”

  Maveryck fisted his hands, though his voice remained calm. “Then you will no longer have the privilege of trading with me. Is that what you wish?”

  Jahr’ad’s cheek’s burned red. “Fine,” he spat, “but this had better be the last time you bring Wults to my home. It that understood?”

  Maveryck nodded. “It is.”

  Jahr’ad took the stone in his hands and read the words. “It’s a sort of riddle,” he said, “which is common for one of these stones, as dragons loved dealing in riddles in ages past. This one says, ‘Gold to find fortune and black to find power, but not all who seek it shall live. It is the last remaining, the end of prophecy. The talisman long sought after shall be the price paid for one who was taken.’” Jahr’ad looked up. “It basically means that the witch will trade only one thing for whoever it is she’s taken—the vachonette egg.”

  “What is a vachonette egg?” Heidel asked.

  “A legend,” he answered, “at least to some. It is a dragon egg that is rumored to have unusual properties—the ability to heal and to cure curses are a few of its supposed abilities, but more importantly, it is said that this egg is the only offspring of the witch, and the only egg to contain dark magic. Some claim its worth at more than three million gold pieces. It would fund my operations for several decades at least. In fact, my own men tried to obtain it years ago.”