“I’m sorry I’ve been so down, but on top of worrying about Sinjenasta, this fever feels like it’s getting worse, and I’m so tired.”
“To be honest,” Blayke said, “you don’t look much better than Sinje.”
“Thanks.” She managed a wan smile. Blayke smiled back.
“Oh, look,” said Toran. “I do believe she smiled.”
“I think you’re right,” said Blayke. “Do we get compensation, as in money or something?”
Bronwyn shook her head. “Shouldn’t my happiness be enough?”
As they laughed, Flux, who had been sitting at the edge of the clearing, observed Corrille. Now he knew where the saying “if looks could kill” came from. Blayke and Bronwyn are lucky that girl isn’t a gormon—they’d be halfway digested by now, he thought. Flux’s ears pricked up at a rustle beyond the clearing.
Everyone turned to watch as Arcon and Avruellen returned. Arcon put his armload of wood down. “We’ve just had a message from the dragons. They’ll be here soon. Bronwyn, Blayke, are your bags packed ready to go?”
They nodded.
“Is that them?” Toran stood and looked to the west, shading his eyes from the setting sun with his hand on his forehead.
The dragons made two outlines, backlit so no details were visible. Even Corrille, who had never seen a dragon in the flesh before, stopped her death stares and stood to watch their approach.
Both dragons circled, one following the other, swooping down, wings angled. The late afternoon light turned their wings blood red. It reminded Toran of the elegant dancers, billowing sleeves trailing behind as they leapt across the stage, he’d seen once on his travels, before he had made it to the monastery. He hadn’t expected the dragons to possess such grace. Mesmerized, he smiled.
“Everyone, get out of the way,” Avruellen called as the dragons reached the clearing. The realmists and their companions rushed to the tree line, Toran helping Bronwyn.
Just before they landed, Blayke noticed that the closest dragon held something in its claws. With a strong downward beat of its wings, sending twigs and dirt showering onto the humans, the first dragon landed. Green with a brown belly, he wasn’t as magnificent as his companion, whose bronze-colored scales were reflective, like Queen Jazmonilly’s silver ones. The dimming sun caught each scale, causing a brilliant nimbus to surround her. She folded her wings slowly, carefully, as if they were as delicate as those of a butterfly. When she was done, she smiled to herself.
“Greetings,” Arcon said, inclining his head.
“Greetings,” the more brilliant dragon replied. “I am Supestia, and this is Garrimonious, brother of Warrimonious, third-highest ranking dragon in Vellonia’s army.”
Garrimonious nodded once. “It is my pleasure to finally meet you, Arcon, and your sister, Avruellen. I regret that I was absent the last time you visited our fair city.”
“Better late than never.” Avruellen smiled. “I don’t mean to be rude, but we can’t waste any more time. Sinjenasta hasn’t much longer. If he dies, our chances of winning the coming battle will lessen considerably. Are you able to take just a quick rest?”
Supestia held one arm in front of herself and twisted it this way and that, admiring the way it glittered in the light. “I should think we could.” She looked at Avruellen. “I’ll return in thirty minutes. My cousin will need at least a drink from the river, if not more sustenance, before he returns.” Supestia departed on her way to the river; Garrimonious nodded at the realmists and hurried to catch up to her.
“Wow, she’s one bossy dragon,” said Corrille, who had assumed her normal position next to Blayke, gripping his arm with both hands.
“I wouldn't speak too loudly, if I were you.” Avruellen lifted her chin as she looked down at the girl. “Dragons have very good hearing and very hot breath.” Corrille held her gaze, but Avruellen didn’t miss the shiver that passed through her body. A small smile played across the realmist’s face.
Corrille whispered to Blayke, “Are you just going to let her talk to me like that?”
He shrugged. “Would you prefer me alive or dead?”
The girl pouted. “If you really loved me, you would.”
“You know I love you, but sometimes it’s best to just keep quiet.”
An angry glint flickered in her eyes. “You’re not the man I thought you were. Not to mention you’ll be leaving me with her. Am I safe without you? And why should I have to walk to Vellonia when you and your stupid sister get to fly?”
Blayke took a deep breath and faced Corrille. “I’m sorry it’s turned out this way. You know I have no say in what happens, and don’t think for a minute that Avruellen would ever hurt you. She’s not a monster and she knows if she hurts you, she hurts me and hurts our chances of beating the gormons. Just trust me. If we get through this, I’ll marry you and give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”
Delight pushed aside the anger. “Marry me! Oh, yes, I would love that. I didn’t know you were thinking of marrying me. Can we have a pretty house in Bayerlon? I love it there.”
“Of course we can. Anything you want.” He kissed the top of her head.
Flux, his sensitive ears picking up every whispered word, spoke to Avruellen. We’ve got trouble. Blayke’s just proposed to the wicked one.
What! But he’s hardly dated before. What can he be thinking? And since when do you call her “wicked?” I remember someone once telling me I was being too hard on her.
Foxes, like humans, are capable of changing their minds. Let’s just say that I’ve seen enough after traveling with her for a while. So, what are you going to do about it?
Nothing, yet. They’ll be apart for a good while. Maybe if I’m rude enough, she’ll decide to go her own way before we reach Vellonia. I’m sure she’d fall for the nearest male, as long as he has money or a pretty face. If we say anything outright, it’s liable to go against us—you know how young ones always want to do the opposite of what you tell them.
Flux smiled, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
As Bronwyn gave Toran one last hug and a quick kiss, the dragons returned. Supestia instructed everyone on what was expected. “I will be taking Arcon and young Blayke. There are straps on the back of the evil contraption on my back to tie your packs to. You will mount the saddle carefully.” She stopped speaking to snort before gathering her composure. “We have a basket for Sinjenasta and Bronwyn to ride in—it is attached by straps that loop over Garrimonious’s back.”
Arcon stood close to Supestia and craned his neck to look into her eyes. “We are in awe of your generosity, my lady. You are giving us a gift that is greater than any we can give you in return. Please accept my humble thanks. If there is ever anything you require of me, you only have to ask.” At the last, he put his hand over his heart.
The dragon regarded him, giving a slow nod. “Well spoken, Realmist. I thank you for your sentiments. Now, enough chitchat. It’s time we were on our way. The quicker I can get this dreadful contraption off my back, the better.”
Blayke and Toran lifted Sinjenasta into the basket, and Bronwyn climbed in and sat next to him. If she kneeled, she could see over the edge. Toran handed Bronwyn her bag. “Now don’t go standing up in that thing while you’re flying.”
Bronwyn laughed. “Don’t worry; I don’t feel like dying by splat.” It reminded her of the day her whole life changed. What would have happened to Talia if she had jumped off that cliff? They would have had no chance at all. She was happy she had been too scared to die that day. What a silly thing to want to do, she mused.
Toran smiled and held her hand. “I’ll see you soon. Be careful, okay?”
“I will. I don’t think there’s any safer place than Vellonia. You be careful too, okay?” She squeezed his hand.
“I promise.” He gave her a parting kiss and stepped away from the basket.
Avruellen stepped into the gap he left and gave her niece a hug. “If you need anything, send to me.”
&
nbsp; “I will, Auntie.”
“Remember, Bronwyn, you can do whatever you set your mind to. I believe in you.”
The young realmist hugged her aunt tight. “Of course I can. I was taught by the best.”
Avruellen smiled and joined Toran a safe distance away, Flux coming to sit at her feet. Blayke and Arcon had mounted Supestia, and Corrille watched them, a scowl on her face.
“Looks like someone isn’t happy you’re leaving, Blayke.” Arcon, who sat in front, nudged his nephew in the ribs with his elbow.
See, Blayke, said Fang, I told you. The rat peeked out from the collar of the realmist’s coat.
“Yeah, I know. I have a feeling she’s going to make my life hell when she gets to Vellonia.”
“Welcome to the world of women, my boy.”
“I don’t know. Bronwyn doesn’t seem all that difficult with Toran. He has it easy.”
“Well, maybe you just need to pick your women more carefully. There are some crazy ones out there.”
“I wouldn’t let Avruellen hear you say that.” They laughed.
“I hope you’re not including female dragons in that unfounded assumption.” Supestia craned her neck around so she could eyeball them with one huge eye. Arcon coughed. Blayke shook his head and shrunk behind his mentor while Fang retreated into the safety of the jacket. “Just as well.” She huffed. “Are we ready, children?”
“Children?” Arcon asked.
“You are, as far as I’m concerned. I’d say you’re about one hundred and ninety-five, give or take a year?”
“How did you guess?”
“I know many things. I, my child, am four hundred and eighty-five—old enough to be your great grandmother many times over. As I was saying: are we ready? Is everyone holding on?”
“Yes,” they answered unanimously.
Channeling energy from underground, Supestia created an updraft of warm air. She spread her wings, each bronze-colored scale looking like smooth, dark metal now that the sun had set. She beat her wings, the long, powerful downstrokes lifting them higher while buffeting Flux, Avruellen, Toran and Corrille with displaced air.
“Ready, Bronwyn?” Garrimonious asked.
She lay down, put her arm around Sinjenasta’s neck and sneezed. “Damn allergy. Yep, I’m good to go.” When Garrimonious took off, Bronwyn had to shut her eyes against the wind from his wings. She buried her face into Sinjenasta’s fur and sneezed again.
Bronwyn waited until the vigorous flapping had finished before she opened her eyes. Looking above, she saw the dragon’s underside six feet away, his tail floating out behind him, almost invisible in the growing darkness. Do I really want to look down? she wondered as she wobbled to her knees, the basket jerking beneath her. Gripping the edge of the thick fabric conveyance, she straightened her back and peered over the edge, hoping to see Avruellen and Toran below.
“Wow! That was quick.” The ground looked so far away, and she couldn’t distinguish her loved ones from the trees in the gray light. Bronwyn waved, even though she knew they couldn’t see her. The dragon flew faster than she had anticipated, and her hair whipped around her face and into her eyes. Spitting a few tendrils out of her mouth, she carefully lowered herself back into the protection of the basket.
“Sinje, can you hear me?” She stroked his once-shiny fur and tried not to cry. “Please, hang on. We’re on our way to Vellonia. I’m not sure how we can save you, but we’ll try. It’s only another day or so. You don’t want those stinky, ugly gormons to win, do you? Plus, you know I can’t live without you, don’t you? I’m willing to have a runny nose and watery eyes for the rest of my life, just for you.” Letting her hand rest on his side, she leaned her head on top of it. With closed eyes, she concentrated on the shallow rise and fall of his chest and willed the cycle to continue. Hang on Sinje. Hang on.
***
Three a.m. Vellonia was quiet, the constant click of clawed feet on the tiled floors absent. Walking through the corridors, Jazmonilly’s scales glinted intermittently, many of the wall torches having been extinguished at midnight. Unable to sleep after one nightmare too many, she thought to visit the nursery—spending time with the eggs always filled her heart with joy.
She nodded to the two dragons guarding the door. They stared straight ahead, intense in their duty, she assumed. In the nursery, Jazmonilly surveyed the room. The eggs sat in their holders along the walls. A low fire in the hearth cast a warm glow. The cozy atmosphere was something Jazmonilly imagined she would feel if cupped in Drakon’s giant hand. “Thank you for these precious gifts,” she whispered while looking to the ceiling.
Jazmonilly gazed about the room and thought, That’s strange. Where is Emerance? She’s probably gone to the bathroom. No matter; I’ll sit with the eggs until she returns. She sat on the bench seat closest to the fire and hummed a lullaby. Jaz sung four lullabies in all and yawned after finishing the last. Hmm, I think I’m finally ready to go back to bed. I’ll just wait a few more minutes for Emerance to return. Happily, she didn’t have to wait long before the scratching of the handle turning signaled that the door was opening.
Jaz stood as Emerance entered. The older dragon started. “Oh my goodness! What are you doing here, Queen Jazmonilly?”
“Sorry to frighten you. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Ah, yes. It must be the full moon coming up.” Emerance bustled to the eggs and touched them one by one.
“Well, I’m tired now, so I think I’ll go back and try to sleep.” Jaz watched the dragon, waiting to see if she would offer an explanation as to where she had been. She wanted so much to ask, but her question might be taken as an insult—that she wouldn’t trust her own cousin was scandalous in dragon culture. The fact that Symbothial had been believed to be a traitor had meant Emerance and her branch of the family had earned constant suspicious glances and whispers. It saddened Jaz, so she decided not to ask. Besides—just because one member of the family behaves a certain way doesn’t mean any of the others would.
“Good night, Queen Jazmonilly. Sweet dreams.” Emerance lowered her head in respect, and Jaz left.
As she exited, one of the guards turned to look at her, surprise on his face. It took a few moments for him to collect himself enough to bow. “Queen Jazmonilly.”
“You seem surprised to see me. Why is that?”
The guards exchanged glances. “I don’t remember seeing you enter.”
“How strange.” She moved her face close to his and stared into his eyes. “You look all right. So you really don’t remember seeing me go in?” He shook his head. “And what about you?” she asked the other guard.
“No, my lady.” He looked to the ground.
“Maybe you two have been doing too many shifts. I’ll have someone come and relieve you shortly. Good night.” Great—now she wasn’t going to be able to sleep at all. Something was going on, and she was going to find out what it was.
***
Valdorryn watched his wife yawn for the third time during lunch. “Maybe you should go and have a nap.”
“There’s too much to do. Have you heard from Zimapholous or Arcese lately?”
The king picked up a whole six-pound fish from his plate and threw it into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed before replying. “No. I should try and reach one of them later today. We’re due for an update.”
“Thank you. I do worry about them.”
“So do I, but they’re grown n—” Valdorryn stopped talking and cocked his head to one side. After a moment, he looked at Jaz. “We have arrivals at East One Eight.” The many openings in the mountain that were large enough to take off or land from had names that indicated the level, direction the opening faced and the particular opening—all doorways were numbered from north to south.
“Is it Garrimonious?”
“Yes. Seems they made good time—they’re back within two days. See, I told you the weather would stay fine.”
“So you did, husband. One time out of ten isn’t too bad.” S
he smiled. He rolled his eyes.
“Apparently Sinjenasta is too sick to move. I’ve told them we’ll meet them in the hallway. I just want to call Pandellen.” Son, we have need of your expertise. Can you meet me at East One Eight immediately?
Yes, Father.
Only one floor down from where they dined, the king and queen reached the newly-arrived group quickly. Backlit by the large opening, Blayke and Arcon helped the two dragons take off their saddles.
As soon as he spied them, Valdorryn asked, “Where are Bronwyn and the panther?”
“They’re still in the basket, King Valdorryn.” Garrimonious bowed.
“Thank you for your service, Garrimonious and Supestia. You have done the dragons proud.”
“Thank you, my king,” they both answered.
“Supestia,” Jazmonilly said, taking her aside. “I have a job that needs doing—something I would only trust to you. Can you meet me in my chambers in an hour?”
“Certainly, Queen Jazmonilly.”
“You may go.”
The bronze-colored dragon nodded to her queen before she departed, Garrimonious close behind.
Jazmonilly rushed to stand with everyone around the basket. She peered in. Used to hiding her true emotions in public when required, all decorum was forgotten when she saw Sinjenasta and Bronwyn lying unconscious next to each other. She gasped. “Oh, for Drakon’s sake! Are they still alive? Quick. Where’s Pandellen?”
“Here I am, Mother. Where are the patients?”
“In here.” Arcon moved aside to give Pandellen room. The black-backed dragon was taller than his father and had silver-colored scales on his tummy, making him recognizably the son of the king and queen. “Sinjenasta was scratched, well . . . sliced open, by a gormon. Bronwyn healed his wounds, but now they’re both very sick. Bronwyn’s suffering because of her link to him. He’s been unconscious for almost two weeks. Avruellen and I couldn’t think what else to do. Have you any ideas?”
“You’ve done the right thing by bringing him to one of the best healers in Talia.” Jazmonilly looked adoringly at her son.
Realm Of Blood And Fire (Book 3) Page 10
