by Lea Doué
As if knowing she guessed his thoughts, Theo studied her face. “I’ve always thought my mother and brother were still out here somewhere. Lost, maybe, or trapped.”
An unspoken word hung in the air between them, a word that, until this summer, she would have thought fit only for folk tales and legends. Sorcery. Theo knew the story of the sorcerer-prince who had ensnared her and her sisters only weeks earlier in an attempt to gain his own freedom.
A chill shot up her spine. Could it be possible something similar had happened to his mother and Edric?
He dismounted and examined the ground closer. “There were no tracks then, either.”
“I thought you just saw tracks.”
“I saw hoof prints, but no razor-tail tracks. I was eighteen when Eddy and Mother disappeared, old enough to help with the search, but Father wouldn’t risk it. Someone told me later. They blamed it on the dragons, but there were no tracks, and razor-tails don’t swoop and carry off their prey.” He shook his head and kicked at the dirt before remounting.
“Should we investigate? He’s an outrider, but he wouldn’t go far on his own.”
Theo looked at her. No, he stared at her, as if seeing something for the first time and appreciating what he saw. “You’d really go in there, wouldn’t you?”
She looked past his shoulder into the deep green of the forest. Unlike Hazel, she wasn’t a strictly stay-on-the-trail person, but she was no woodsman, either. Still, if someone needed her…
She shrugged. “Wouldn’t you?”
His eyes lit up, despite the worry on his face. “Let’s get back to the others.”
She didn’t argue. It was probably the wiser plan.
They reached the carriage at a slow gallop. She joined Hazel and Bay. Despite her brave words to Theo, she was uneasy about the missing outrider and wanted them back in the carriage.
Theo addressed the nearest soldier. “Has Will reported back, yet?”
“No, sir.”
While Theo explained about the tree and the tracks, Gwen told the girls to get inside. The driver stopped the carriage.
“What about you?” Bay said.
“It’s probably nothing, but I can ride better than either of you. I don’t want to weigh the carriage down.” In case we have to flee. But she didn’t need to say that part.
However, the girls had no chance to get in the carriage, or even dismount. A thundering, crashing sound erupted from deep in the forest to their left, like trees falling into each other. Or being thrown. Seconds later, Will erupted from the woods and pulled his mount up short when he saw the other soldiers. His sword was snapped off at the hilt, and a deep gash stained his arm red from shoulder to elbow.
“You must go,” he panted. “Now!”
“What happened?” Holic asked, even as the carriage driver tried to turn his horses. The guards took up defensive positions.
“There was a girl. Running. Scared. I tried to help, but she was too fast.” He glanced over his shoulder. The crashing sounded nearer every second.
Gwen stayed close to Hazel—her horse wasn’t battle trained. Neither was Buttercup, for that matter. His muscles tensed, and fearful snorts punched through the noise of creaking leather and groaning wheels and clipped commands.
Will took out his dagger. “There was a wild man, half naked. He was blindfolded, screaming and waving his arms. And then the dragon started chasing me.” He took a quick breath and glanced anxiously at the carriage, whose battle-trained horses stamped impatiently against their harness. “We must go! Leave the carriage, get everyone on horseback, and go!”
“Surely we can handle one dragon,” Theo said.
“Not this dragon. That man was a sorcerer, and this dragon—”
In a storm of leaves and cracked branches, a massive dragon leaped out of the forest and landed in the middle of the track. The horses stamped their feet against the earth, which trembled from the weight of it. Joints grating like tumbling rocks, it ground to a halt about a hundred feet behind the carriage, wingtips brushing the trees on either side of the road.
The beast was made entirely of stone.
Chapter Two
“Into the trees!” Gwen yelled at Hazel.
They were no use against a flesh-and-blood dragon, much less this monstrosity, which was head and shoulders taller than the largest draft horse. Even razor-tails didn’t grow that large, but this thing wasn’t natural. The most they could hope for was to evade it while the dragon soldiers did what they were trained to do.
The carriage horses bolted down the road before the driver could turn them around, but it didn’t matter. Better that the tree stopped them than the stone dragon.
She made it into the forest with Hazel following close behind, both horses eager to escape the battle. Soldiers shouted, and the dragon’s movements grated against the air like a small rock slide. Metal clanked against stone. Judging from the state of Will’s sword, that method of attack wouldn’t get them far. Still, they outnumbered the dragon. She tried to ignore Will’s warning that they couldn’t handle it.
A few hundred yards into the trees, Gwen stopped.
“Shouldn’t we keep going?” Bay asked.
“We can’t afford to get lost. Besides, they’ll have that thing crushed in no time.” She hoped.
“I think we should keep going,” Hazel said. Her hands gripped the reins tightly, and her mount fidgeted uneasily. If she didn’t calm down, she’d lose control of him.
Gwen couldn’t risk that—it might draw the dragon’s attention. She needed to help Hazel steady her nerves, give her a goal, something to keep her mind off the battle.
Reluctantly, she nudged Buttercup further into the forest along the dragon’s path, marked by scored earth and broken branches. If they stayed along this trail, they could find their way back to the road when they were ready. In the meantime, maybe they could solve a mystery. Because of her recent experience with sorcery, she had a niggling feeling that the girl and the wild man weren’t what they seemed.
An angry scream and shouting reached them from the road, followed by a shudder among the canopy, as if something had slammed into a tree trunk. Bay squeaked and clung tighter to Hazel.
Gwen took a few deep breaths and tried to keep her voice conversational. “There’s something odd about Will’s story. He said he was trying to save a girl, but he lost her.”
“Maybe the sorcerer got her,” Bay said.
“I’m not so sure there is a sorcerer.”
“Then who sent the dragon?” Hazel’s posture relaxed some, although her hands still clenched the reins.
Good. The distraction was working. “I don’t know, but why would that girl be running towards a sorcerer?”
“Well… .” Bay frowned.
“Maybe the wild man isn’t a sorcerer.” Gwen paused for effect. “Maybe he’s Theo’s brother.”
“Prince Edric?” Hazel said. “But how—”
“Never mind the details right now, but Theo thinks he could still be alive. What if he was warning Will about the dragon, not summoning it?” She was starting to believe her own story. She had seen maps, and Theo had tried to explain the vastness of the Ling Forest. It spread through most of Osha, bleeding south into Ituria and north into Gritton. Who knew what secrets lay hidden within its green expanse?
“Nothing is straightforward with sorcery,” she added. “We learned that earlier this summer.”
“But if the wild man is the prince,” Hazel said, “then who is the girl?”
“His mother? I don’t know.”
Bay whispered, “Maybe she’s the sorcerer.”
That was possible. More possible than a stone dragon, which shouldn’t exist. Gwen had already seen so much that shouldn’t exist that a sorceress using a stone dragon to keep a supposedly-dead prince captive didn’t seem too far-fetched.
The clash of battle barely reached them now. It was the perfect time to test their theory. If they could get close enough to see the wild man for t
hemselves, surely she would know if it was Edric. It had only been four years since she’d last seen him. They could get him out while the soldiers distracted the dragon. She could already imagine the look on Theo’s face if they showed up with his long-lost brother. Holic would be shocked. He might even cry.
“I’m going to find out,” Gwen said.
“Uh-uh.” Bay shook her head. “No way. There’s a sorcerer person in there.”
“She’s right,” Hazel said.
“I’m not going far.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for the others?” Hazel glanced back the way they’d come.
“I see no need to get the boys’ hopes up only to have to disappoint them.” She kept going, hoping Hazel’s feelings for Holic would spur her on. It worked.
“Fine, but we’re only getting close enough to see if that man is Prince Edric or not. If he’s even still there.”
Gwen didn’t argue, but she did take the lead.
They followed the stone dragon’s path of destruction for a few minutes, still hearing an occasional clang from behind them. Surely the battle was nearly over. She nudged Buttercup to pick up his speed, but he ignored her and stopped instead. Hazel’s mount stopped, too. Both horses’ ears swiveled backward, and Buttercup snorted. Leaves and twigs crunched behind them, and an unhorse-like grinding, scraping sound warned of something large approaching.
A second stone dragon.
Her heart thundered, and Buttercup shot forward, matching his stride to the rhythm.
Bay screamed and cried out for Holic.
Hazel’s mount panicked. It leaped into the lead, jumped over a small log, and dumped Bay onto the dirt.
Gwen tried to rein Buttercup around to go back, but he wouldn’t obey, no matter how hard she tried. She gave up and glanced over her shoulder.
Fifty yards behind and gaining, the dragon passed right by Bay, who’d rolled to the side and down a small incline.
Bay stood, unharmed, and shouted, “Go!”
The dragon’s weight must have slowed it down, because it didn’t catch up to them as fast as she expected. She’d nearly reached Hazel, and they were both just trying to stay seated. Branches and bushes clawed at them as the horses weaved through the trees, up and down slopes, and over the stony ground. They couldn’t keep doing this—the dragon would catch up eventually, and then what? She wouldn’t see her sister mauled by a stupid rock monster.
“Jump!” She shouted to be heard over the grinding of the dragon’s joints. “Hazel, jump off!”
“What? No, I can’t!”
“You have to! Find Bay—I’ll join you.”
Hazel wasn’t going to do it.
Gwen had to get her off the horse. The dragon had ignored Bay when she was on the ground. “It’s after the horses.” That might be true, but guilt might work better. “You can’t leave Bay alone out here.”
Hazel risked a look back, and her eyes widened. The dragon was slowly gaining ground.
“Jump!”
Her sister jumped and remembered enough of their lessons with their governess-slash-dragon-soldier to roll when she landed.
Gwen didn’t slow to see if she was all right. Buttercup wouldn’t have let her even if she’d wanted to. The dragon didn’t slow, either, which is what she’d hoped. Every foot it gained on her ensured more chance of safety for her people.
Hazel’s horse veered off, but the stone dragon didn’t follow it.
It wasn’t after the horses.
Buttercup wouldn’t last much longer at this pace, not on such uneven ground. As he slowed, the dragon seemed to gain speed, digging its talons into the stones and jumping forward in great bounds. A giant tree appeared in their path ahead, and Buttercup turned sharply to the right. Her hands slipped. The last thing she saw as she fell was his mane waving like a black flag on a pirate ship. Her last thought was that he would be safe. The dragon wasn’t after horses.
*
Gwen woke in the arms of the blindfolded man. The wild man. Her ear and cheek lay pressed against his bare shoulder, and she swayed gently as he slid his feet carefully along the ground, making his way slowly on some obscure path.
She saw no sign of the dragon. This man couldn’t possibly have defeated it alone with no weapon and no vision. Unless he was a sorcerer, after all. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to keep her breathing even. No need to draw his attention until she knew for sure.
Ever since they had entered the forest, it had become difficult to determine the time of day by the light filtering through the trees, but it couldn’t have been long since she’d fallen. Her stomach knotted at the thought of Hazel and Bay alone in the forest, and of Buttercup running from the dragon, but she pushed it out of her mind. She had more immediate things to worry about, like getting her feet back under her. Her head pounded, her back ached, and the arm that hung limply behind the wild man’s back burned at the shoulder.
A breeze rustled the leaves overhead, but it wasn’t kind enough to join them. Sweat trickled down her neck and forehead. Or it could be blood. The metallic tang of it hung in the air, as did the scents of pine and wood smoke, and something more. The man needed a bath.
Water—she heard it then—a small waterfall or river. She’d mistaken the sound for a breeze.
She opened her eyes to the canopy overhead, where the leaves lay silent and still. She studied the man’s face without turning her head, hoping to see a likeness to either Theo or Holic underneath the dirt and the blindfold. Hoping to see Eddy. His jaw was tense, as were the muscles in his neck and shoulders. Understandable, considering he was hefting her around the forest. Greasy auburn hair stuck out haphazardly all over his head, as if a child with a pair of scissors had done the trimming. His scraggly beard looked no better. He wore a leather cord around his neck, whatever was on the end stuck between her rib cage and his.
The hair alone almost convinced her the man was Eddy. She’d never seen it so long, or so dirty, but she’d memorized its every shade in sunlight and shadows. If only she could see his eyes.
Her lids drooped against the pain in her head, and she listened to the water, saving her strength for when the man put her down. She wished she had a drink right now and tried to focus on other sounds to take her mind off her thirst. Birds chirped and warbled, weaver dragons rustled through the trees, the man’s feet shushed and crunched through fallen leaves and underbrush. Being carried this way felt a lot less romantic in reality than it sounded in storybooks. Another few minutes, and her dangling arm might grow numb enough to block out the burning.
The man stumbled, and his grip tightened. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, sending a sharp pain through her injured shoulder. She hissed, and her eyes flew open. He caught himself before they both tumbled into the dirt, and then he froze.
She squeezed her eyes shut but opened them again right away. He couldn’t see her.
He tilted his head as if listening and then spoke in a voice that was somewhere between rumbling and dry, as if it hadn’t been used in a long while. “You’re awake?”
After clearing her throat and taking a quick breath, she whispered, “Yes.”
“Are you—” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Are you injured?”
“I’m not sure. I think I might be. I mean, my arm hurts. I hurt all over, actually.” Obviously, her mouth wasn’t injured.
He didn’t reply. He’d been injured as well. A cut just above the blindfold added a touch of crimson to the strip of dirty yellow fabric. Did the dragon do that? Surely the dragon had been gone when he found her. Maybe he ran into a branch.
“Can you walk?” he said.
She could try. “Yes.”
He lowered her legs, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist until she stood on her own. As soon as he let go, though, her legs grew wobbly, and she sank to the ground.
“Guess I’m a bit shaky.”
He crouched beside her, rather too close for a man wearing nothing but a loincloth and a belt
knife. She scooted over a few inches.
“Are you bleeding anywhere?”
She touched her fingers to the spot on her forehead. She didn’t need to look at her shoulder. “Scratches, mostly. My arm is bad, I think. What happened?”
“We need to stop the bleeding before we move on.”
“Not so fast.” She moved a few inches farther away. He was right, of course, but she needed to know who she was dealing with. There was still a chance he was a sorcerer with an incredible likeness to the prince, or he was under the influence of one. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me who you are. And why you’re walking around in the middle of a forest wearing a blindfold.”
He leaned back as if surprised, and his ears turned pink. “I’m no one to worry about. Just trying to help.”
“Well, Mr. Trying-to-Help, I need a name.” Her fear made her bold.
Silence.
Finally, so softly she could barely hear him, he said, “My name is Eddy.”
Eddy. Edric. The prince.
Tears stung her eyes, and goosebumps spread up her arms—not a pleasant feeling with the shooting pains already there. Her theory was right.
Unless he was lying. She studied his face, searching for familiar features through his shaggy hair and beard. He’d always been muscular, but not in a bulky way like Theo. More like Holic, although she’d never seen any of them with their shirts off. He could certainly be in his mid-twenties like Prince Edric would be.
He could certainly be Prince Edric.
Even without seeing his eyes, she was certain he was.
He lowered his head.
Right. She hadn’t responded with her own name. There were a hundred Gwens around, so what harm would it be to give him her real name? What chance was there that he remembered the young princess who had stood in his shadow so many years ago? She half hoped and half feared he would, although he couldn’t see her now. Until she found out more about the sorcerer, and whether he—or she—had some influence over Eddy, she would be careful not to reveal her true identity. Just her name.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Eddy.” She could still be proper, despite being stained and torn. “I’m Gwen.”
