Bone Dance

by Lee Roland

  “My mother and father took me there once. According to Immal, something evil happened there a long time ago. The ghosts remain there because they won’t release their hatred and need for revenge. It’s a horrible place. The ghosts whisper…loneliness and longing and you can feel it when they speak. They talk to your heart—they tear at your heart.”

  “And the escheba? Living dead? Like human zombies?”

  Flor nodded. “She didn’t tell me much about them. I came close to a few of them. They stared at me. They didn’t speak.” She shivered.

  “How did you get there, body or mind.”

  “Body. It’s a place, not a dream. To get there, we went to the mountains, into a cave, and through a door.” Flor’s voice lightened. “Oh, Maeve, I wish I could find it and show you the path. Others, not my people, had painted the canyon walls with lifestyle scenes. I never want to go through that door again, but to see the paintings…”

  But then Flor’s body trembled and her face twisted. “I have to tell you something—and you have to remember.” Her voice quivered.

  Maeve watched her face, her dark eyes. Was Flor an oracle? A few witches were. She usually ignored portents and omens, but the last few days…yes, she’d better remember.

  Flor stood, her frame still and stiff, arms at her sides. “One day, my mother tried to teach me to actually open a gateway between the worlds. It’s rare for a witch to have that skill.”

  Maeve frowned. She didn’t like where this tale was heading. “Yes, it’s rare. I don’t know any Elder witches that can do it, not even Tana. The gateway to Elder was already there when we came.”

  Flor’s hands clenched into fists. “I tried and tried, I knew the words, and how to twist the magic, but it didn’t work until I did something…wrong. I opened a door to the Chiuato and…” She put her face in her hands.

  “Flor, don’t do this.” Maeve wrapped her arms around her friend.

  Flor trembled in Maeve’s arms, but she continued. “Some creature, came through. I can’t, I won’t describe it. My mother tried to stop it, then my father. I lost both of them. I heard them screaming. Then Immal arrived. She forced it back in and closed the opening.”

  Maeve held Flor’s swaying body and debated whether she should go for Raymond. Damn, where was Harriet when she needed her? Flor sobbed for a few minutes and then stepped back from Maeve. Her red swollen eyes and shaking hands spoke to her trauma. “Maeve, that place is deadly and as close to hell as anything I can imagine. Describing it frightens me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Maeve didn’t know what else to say. Except that she hoped Flor’s story was not oracular in nature. Visiting the Chiuato was not in her plans for the future.

  They cut away from the road and on a path through an abundant grove of oak trees. Flor calmed and her usual easy nature returned. Maeve didn’t want to go too close to the Council House since she’d see the damage soon enough.

  Ground fog twisted, swirled, and spread beneath the densetrees like spilled milk. No shrubbery or underbrush here, the thick mat of fallen leaves prevented that. Cold tears of dew fell to the invisible forest floor, and the smell of decay rose as they walked across the mushy carpet.

  Flor shivered.

  “Not my favorite place either,” Maeve told her when they reached a large clearing. “Don’t know why they come here.”

  “Who?”

  “The unicorns. Harpies and owls stay here too.” At her words, two harpies glided by and then faded into the mist.

  Maeve stopped and held up her hand. “Stand still.”

  They waited. The only sound was the tick-tick when drops of moisture fell from above. They felt it first. The ground vibrated. It trembled under their feet like the barest beginning of an earthquake. The unicorns surged from the forest’s depths in a wedge.

  Anyone who thought of unicorns as delicate creatures subject to a virgin’s whim would probably faint at the sight of the stallion. Black as obsidian from his three-foot horn to his iron hooves, he thundered toward them, drawing his herd behind in uniform precision. Spreading through the trees, they stirred the ground fog into savage whorls. In seconds, they’d circled the two women, then stopped to stand with their horns pointing inward.

  Maeve glanced at Flor. If she was frightened, it didn’t show.

  The black stallion stepped forward. Maeve bowed to him. Flor followed her lead.

  “Meneron.” His eyes changed. Evil had touched the unicorns, too.

  “Gone.”

  His mind-whisper told of four unicorns that had disappeared. Meneron’s attention turned to Flor. So tall that Maeve couldn’t see over his back, the unicorn towered over the tiny witch. Nevertheless, he lowered his great head and touched her shoulder with the burnished horn.

  Like witches, unicorns were Inaras’ children, and, as such, knew the essence of small lives like flowers and trees. They called all living things by their true names—the names given by the Creator at the beginning of time. Maeve never learned all the words required to cast a decent spell, but thanks to the unicorns, she knew the true name of every flower and tree in the valley.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Maeve and Flor stayed with the unicorns throughout the morning. The foals, curious, nuzzled and danced in circles around them. The adult unicorns kept a protective ring around their young and quickly drove back any who strayed.

  “How big is the valley,” Flor asked as they walked back toward the crossroads. The sun approached noon, and they followed the path through the thick green forest bordering the meadow.

  “As big as it’s got to be, I guess. I don’t think anyone’s ever measured, and I don’t know what’s beyond. Except the plains where the dragons feed on a certain kind of cattle. To my knowledge, no one ever cared. Iameth witches usually don’t wander. They like to stay in one place. Not me. I want to see the whole world.”

  “What a delightful place to grow up. I don’t see how you could leave.”

  “I couldn’t stay a kid. Did try though. At least according to Tana.”

  “It must have been hard for her to tell you to go.”

  “She didn’t tell me to go the first time. I ran away. I wanted to see outside Elder.”

  In 1949, at the intersection of the Elder and Jessupville roads, she met Cameron Tully changing a tire on his truck. He let her ride with him and taught her the love of the open road. He also taught her about another kind of love too.

  Harriet flashed through the trees. She squawked like a chicken when she crashed into Flor. Flor staggered but caught the harpy in her arms.

  “I’m glad you’ve become her preferred landing strip.” Maeve laughed, a little jealous. Flor straightened Harriet up and extended her arm as a perch.

  “Raymond,” Harriet chirped. “Hurry!” She lifted off and flew toward the trees.

  “Wait a minute,” Maeve shouted after her. “What’s wrong?”

  Harriet disappeared in the forest.

  “Now what?” she asked as she and Flor raced after the harpy.

  The small, rough path slowed them down, and when they found Raymond, he shook with agitation, his great wings folding and unfolding. Why had he landed here instead of an open meadow? A green prison wall of trees surrounded the clearing, and to leave in dragon form, he would have to go almost straight up.

  “Come.” Raymond called to them.

  “What is it?” Maeve had never seen him so disturbed.

  “Come. Hurry, get on.” He broke mind contact.

  “Have you flown with him since we arrived?” Maeve asked.

  Flor shook her head. “There hasn’t been time.”

  “Yeah, we have been sort of busy.”

  They climbed up Raymond’s leg, onto his back, and settled into the hollow where his neck met the body. With a running leap and whip of wings, he cleared the treetops—almost. His talons tore out the crown of a sycamore.

  Maeve expected him to circle a few times and gain altitude. He didn’t.

  “Raymond! Wha
t the hell are you doing?”

  Raymond didn’t open his mind to her. Instead, he dropped lower. His leathery wings beat hard, no gliding, he cut in and around patches of trees and across the ground. Below the unicorns raced for the oak grove in a tight formation. A flash to her left and she recognized that light.

  Dragon fire.

  Only one thing lay in that direction, and black smoke billowed as flames consumed the Shadow Clan meetinghouse and farms. Light flashed again. A deep bellow roared across the valley. Triumph, rage…dragon.

  Raymond’s shadow ran below them, and he skimmed the earth so close his talons and wingtips brushed taller shrubbery. A little higher, then across the river, he touched down in the farmhouse’s spacious backyard where Tana waited for them. She stared across the yard where it merged with the flower-filled meadow.

  “It’s impossible, but I think a dragon has gone mad,” Tana answered their unspoken question.

  Another flare! A dragon shape moving toward them, a hundred feet above the ground. As the dragon closed the distance, Maeve glimpsed a glimmer of green. She knew two green dragons, Andovar and Shovan. The greater size said Andovar.

  Raymond lifted off.

  “No!” Maeve and Flor screamed together. Both knew he didn’t have the strength or skill for that fight. He ignored them and circled to gain altitude.

  “What can we do?” Flor grabbed Maeve’s arm.

  Tana sighed. “Not much. You know our witch magic doesn’t work well on dragons. He’ll burn everything in the valley if we can’t stop him.”

  To Maeve’s surprise, the air around them shimmered with magic, far more than at Immal’s house. But this was Aingeal Nyx Pallas, former High Witch of Elder. Tana, whose teaching stressed the importance of rituals, potions, and prayer, had summoned magic without so much as a word. She unleashed it at Andovar. Arrow straight, sharp…it struck. The green dragon twisted, flipped back, hesitated…and shot forward.

  “Run,” Tana said. “I’ll try to draw him off.” Without catching her breath, she hit Andovar with magic again. He hesitated, but not for long.

  “No way, Tana.” Maeve’s magic might do more harm than good, but it was all she had to offer. Maybe if she and Flor worked together they could come up with something…too late.

  Andovar soared across the meadow, straight toward them.

  Raymond slammed into him from above. The impact shook the earth when they crashed to the ground and rolled, locked in battle. Blood poured from numerous gouges in Andovar’s back where Raymond’s talons lacerated and tore through green scales. Though Andovar was twice as big as Raymond, the smaller dragon’s agility gave him a slight edge. Raymond tried to stay on Andovar’s back, but the larger dragon threw him aside. Maeve grabbed Flor to keep her from running into battle.

  Andovar struggled to lift off again. Fire burst from his mouth. It sputtered and died. Raymond caught a green-scaled leg in his mouth as he rose. The injured green dragon couldn’t fly and take Raymond with him. He dropped back down—this time on top of Raymond.

  “No,” Flor cried as Andovar’s talons raked Raymond’s silver scales.

  Tana hit Andovar with magic again. He jerked and released Raymond. Andovar thrashed his mighty wings and rose in the air. He wobbled and swayed from side to side, the leg Raymond had chewed on hung limp, streaming blood.

  Andovar struggled to fly. His wings flopped, awkward, uncoordinated. The green dragon reached two hundred feet. A massive streak of copper slammed into him, whipping and twisting him across the sky. Another dragon had joined the battle.

  The two creatures, equal in size, grappled in the air. They twisted and clawed, each seeking a death hold on the other. The copper dragon shredded Andovar’s scales, and they fell to the meadow, emeralds flashing in the sunlight. Fire seared the air and talons raked, but the outcome was inevitable. The copper dragon finished the fight. Massive jaws closed on the long green neck. A single snap sounded over the valley like a rifle shot. Andovar’s head flopped to the side.

  They hung there for a moment as if held against the sky by magic alone. Then the copper dragon released him. The life of Andovar, the majestic and noble dragon of Ataro, ended with the sound of dead meat hitting the earth.

  Maeve closed her eyes, but tears leaked through. She quietly sobbed. They weren’t immortal, but no dragon should die that way. She faced the irrevocable truth, the tremendous depth of every witch’s fear. There were no female dragons. When the last dragon of Elder passed, the heart and soul of magic would leave forever.

  Raymond had changed back to human form and lay on the ground a hundred feet from Andovar’s body. Flor and Tana rushed to him. Maeve moved toward them, then stopped at the sound of wings. The copper dragon landed with graceful ease in front of her, and changed shape.

  Maeve acknowledged him. “Yarrow.”

  “Beloved.” He smiled, radiant, warm, genuine. He held out his hands.

  “You have no right to call me that.” She stepped back and rejected him.

  Yarrow symbolized masculine power. With a mane of copper hair flowing back across golden skin, he carried an essence of virility Raymond would probably never possess. The heat of him rippled the air across Maeve’s skin, and she fought the urge to fall into his arms and beg him to love her. She had loved him once. Never again.

  The dragon smiled, reached out with a gentle finger, and wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “Forgive me, beloved. Perhaps soon, you will understand.”

  Yarrow transformed and flew up then dropped to land on the green dragon’s body. Talons locked into flesh and bone, and the wind from his wings almost knocked Maeve down as he lifted the massive Andovar into the air. When he reached five hundred feet, he circled and gained altitude.

  Tana and Flor were helping Raymond to his feet when Maeve got there. He was bleeding from numerous cuts and gouges.

  “Raymond,” Maeve said, “You look like shit. I think you shouldn’t try to play hero next time. Flor and I won’t—”

  “Where is he going?” Tana said. Her eyes followed Yarrow’s ascent.

  “Probably to Dragon’s Lair. He wouldn’t leave one of his own here.”

  Tana shook her head in obvious denial. The expression on her face said the drama of death and disaster would go on.

  Left on the earth, Andovar’s great body would dissipate over a long day and night. Merisen, Lord of the Sky, would accept his essence. When only the lifestone remained, the other dragons would take it away. Maeve had no idea where they went.

  Yarrow circled with Andovar’s body limp in his talons. Higher and higher, a dark shape against the sky. He stopped for a brief second. Wings folded, he plunged straight toward Ogre Mountain.

  At three hundred feet, he released the green dragon’s body and swerved away. When Andovar crashed to earth this time, the sound of crushed timber and shattering glass echoed across the valley. The final blow—the destruction of Sethos’ and Claire’s crystal mansion.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “I don’t know why he did it,” Maeve said. “I hate the place too, but I would have made sure no one was inside.”

  She sat on her bed, and Flor sat cross-legged on the floor. Tana had gone to see if there were injuries at the smashed house, and she was worried about Claire. Deep inside, the same anxiety touched Maeve, but she refused to allow herself to express such feelings. Claire could take care of herself.

  Flor tapped her on the knee. “You called the copper dragon Yarrow, and I heard him call you beloved. Will you tell me about it?”

  Maeve wondered about Flor’s hearing. She, Tana, and Raymond had been at least two hundred feet from her and Yarrow.

  “I guess it’s okay.” She went to check the hallway to be sure Chaos wasn’t spying. A bad habit he’d indulged in ever since he started hanging around Tana’s house. Raymond lay in the next room, drugged on one of Tana’s potions.

  “It was when I came back to Elder the first time,” Maeve said as she returned. “I stayed gone fiv
e years and…were you a virgin when you met Raymond?”

  Flor blushed.

  “I was a virgin when I left Elder. I met a man, a astonishing man, named Cameron who taught me to love the open road and thoroughly enjoy sex. When I was ready to go home, he dropped me off at the Elder Road where he’d found me, and we parted friends. It was lovely to be home—then.

  “One day I went flying with Raymond, and Yarrow appeared alongside of us. I don’t know what he and Raymond said to each other, but Raymond landed, dumped me off, and flew away. I know all the Elder dragons by sight and name, so I knew who Yarrow was, but we’d never spoken.

  “Yarrow landed, changed form, and asked me to fly with him. I said no and started to walk back to Tana’s. I was pissed at Raymond and scared I wouldn’t make it home by dark. There are wolves at that end of the valley.”

  “You didn’t fall in love with him like I did Raymond?”

  Maeve laughed softly. “Not then. Sorry, instant dragon glamour doesn’t affect me. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’ve lived so close to one.

  “Anyway, Yarrow walked with me but didn’t say a word the whole time. By sunset, I knew Tana would be worried. I figured Raymond probably wouldn’t think to tell her where I was. Dragons don’t think like witches. They know and see so much, and they will assume you do the same. Raymond knew I was okay, so he wouldn’t bother to tell Tana.

  “I gave in and let Yarrow change and fly me home. Tana chewed me out, of course, for being late, but my explanations always sounded like excuses to her. I’d spent years on the road, came back to Elder, and became a kid again.”

  Flor giggled softly. “Tana is an imposing force.”

  “You got it. The next morning at daylight, I woke up with Yarrow at my bedroom window. He invited himself in, and I didn’t know what to do. I figured Tana would find out anyway, so I let him stay.”

  Memory drifted around Maeve while she told her story.