The Dragon and Princess Madeline
Kirstin Pulioff
THE DRAGON AND PRINCESS MADELINE
Book III of the Princess Madeline Series
Copyright © 2013 Kirstin Pulioff
Edited by Magpie Editing & Quill Pen Editorial Services
Cover Copyright © 2014 Elizabeth Mackey Design
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Second Edition
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DEDICATION
Dedicated with love to my family.
To Chris, my very own knight in shining armor… and Adeline & Tommy, who remind me to dream big!
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue—Lord Hawthorne’s Legacy
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue—Six Months Later
About the Author
PROLOGUE—LORD HAWTHORNE’S LEGACY
The snow slushed beneath their leather soles, the slightest of movements disturbing the silence of night as they approached the top of the hill. Sir Grant Hawthorne, the leader of the expedition, raised his hand sharply, and the rest of the team stopped. He crept stealthily forward. The men watched as his cloak disappeared over the hill in front of them, melting into the mist.
The men huddled together, watching for a sign of their leader’s return. The air’s biting chill clung to them. Their toes froze, saturated with the melting snow and red mud of the northern lands. Orange torchlight radiated through the fog, a dim beacon signaling their location.
This mission seemed straightforward. By order of the king, they were to head north, track the dragons, and scavenge any fallen scales. The increasing rarity of dragons had caused the value of their magical, impenetrable scales to soar, making this adventure worth the risk. Sir Hawthorne jumped at the opportunity: it would bring him the king’s favor.
The men hunched low, backs together, waiting for movement to clear the mist. A quick slushing sound signaled Sir Hawthorne’s return. His blue eyes shone.
“It’s even better than we could imagine. We’re getting more than scales. The dragons are here,” he paused, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “And so are their eggs.”
Sir Hawthorne looked into his men’s eyes and smiled. They stood to gain a fortune from the bounty on the dragons, their scales, and especially their eggs. The men’s faces gleamed under the torchlight, exchanging sideways glances, trying to keep their enthusiasm contained. Greed replaced their fear.
“So, what do we do?” one of the knights piped up, rubbing his hands together.
“Men, we need to execute this carefully. If we succeed, history will remember our names in songs of triumph and bravery.” He clapped the shoulders of the closest men and joked, “They might even make me a lord.”
“You, a lord,” they snickered.
“Shhh,” Sir Hawthorne said, peeking over his shoulder before silencing his men with a glance. He lowered his voice. “We will need to be careful when we get close to the eggs. The ground is covered by thick mist, and the darkness is disorienting. A small trail winds up the mountain. The eggs are nestled into the side of it. We should be able to grab them without waking the two dragons.” His eyes twinkled. “The red dragon is at the top of Dragon’s Ridge, sleeping above the eggs, and the green dragon lies in the flats below. We need to sneak between the two, capture the eggs, and retreat to the kingdom. We’ll be long gone before they notice. Imagine the glory when we return.”
Step by step they crept up the path, one by one behind their leader. The brisk air brushed against them as they climbed the hill. When they reached the top, their eyes grew. Below them, cloaked in mist and the serene stillness of the night, lay the sleeping dragons, their magic dormant but ready to awaken.
Sir Hawthorne and his men moved down the hill toward the eggs, careful to keep their feet from slipping. They eyed the dragons, aware of the crunching sound each step made. The closer they got, the more they noticed the subtle changes in the mist. It seemed to reflect the scales of the dragons. A gentle glow pulsated around each, mimicking the rhythm of its heartbeat. Slow and steady green mist surrounded the dragon below. A faster flashing red mist bordered the guardian above, and a softer green mist flickered around the collection of eggs. The men’s eyes targeted the eggs immediately, mesmerized by the opalescent sheen.
Tip-toeing up, they held their breath, afraid of even the tiniest whisper. With wide eyes and trembling hands, they snuck up the narrow path between the dragons.
Sir Hawthorne ran ahead, his greed overpowering his fear. Standing in front of the eggs, he reached out with a crooked grin. A spark leapt out towards him. He swore as his body lurched back, jolted by the shock. A protective spell!
His men watched, fear registering in their faces as their eyes darted between the dragons on either side. Their legs froze as they watched their leader fumble with the eggs. Sir Hawthorne’s hands slipped off the surface, and his eyes shot open as terror ran through him. Panic grabbed hold as he looked frantically between the shining orbs in front of him and the dragon stirring below.
“Run!” he yelled at his men. They backed up, watching the eyes of the sleeping dragons. A green eye opened slowly and focused on them. Her claws unfurled and broke the brittle rock in front of her. She jumped defensively over her eggs and landed with a crash, twisting her neck in a loud guttural cry.
“Run!” Sir Hawthorne screamed, scrambling away as the air warmed with steam around him.
The red dragon awoke and took flight, the rush of wind thundering around them as its wings flapped with force. Hawthorne’s men ran, weaving in and out of trees, racing to the boundary of the forest. The green dragon followed on the ground, stomping clumsily after the men, her body less agile in mimicking their twists and turns. Flames shot out, melting the snow in waves. The exposed ground squished into mud beneath her. Her steps shook the ground, forcing underground tunnels to give way. A howl ripped through the air as her feet stuck in the muck. Fire spewed from her mouth, and she writhed in anguish. Flames l
eapt at the retreating men, but they escaped its reach.
The red dragon roared, looking between his struggling mate and the backs of the men disappearing into the forest. Smoke covered the mountain as he jumped into action. His wings whooshed through the air. His sleek body undulated through the sky, its red scales reflecting the flames below. He swept through the trees, chasing the men through the forest toward the kingdom of Soron.
“Men, branch out!” Sir Hawthorne yelled between the bursts of flame. “I will get his attention, you surround and attack. We may have lost the eggs, but we can still bring riches and victory to Soron!”
The green dragon thrashed on the ground, trying to free herself from the collapsed earth around her legs. Deep cries of anguish rang out as she looked back towards the mountain. Her eggs were gone and an archway stood in their place.
CHAPTER ONE
“Ughhh, what is this stuff?” Princess Madeline asked, wrinkling her nose at the steaming concoction that Elias placed in her hands.
Elias smiled. “The stuff that smells the worst is always the best for you. Drink it up, and we’ll see if that helps you remember any more.”
“Again?” Princess Madeline plugged her nose, sipping cautiously, then raised a hand to her temple. Closing her eyes, lines of concentration appeared on her forehead. She tried desperately to focus on the dream that eluded her. Throwing her arm down, she let out a deep breath and looked up at her uncle.
“It’s no use. No matter how hard I try, that dream is gone. All I see when I close my eyes is green fog.” She pursed her lips and shrugged.
Over the past few months of studying with Elias, when she wasn’t mesmerized by his lessons of magic, interpretation, and divination, she had focused on learning more about the elder wizard. After months of careful observation, she learned the small nuances of his emotions. Today she watched as frustration and regretful acceptance flickered over his face.
His eyes left her and drifted over the room, scouring the shelves and cabinets, looking for another alternative. They settled on the bookshelves above the cabinets of cylinders and pots.
A shower of dust shook out from the worn pages as he grabbed the first of several leather-bound books. The creased binding had darkened spiral markings and symbols. He opened the book and began tracing the ancient script inside. Elias’s eyes lit up.
“Elias?” she queried, espying the script. “What’s in those books?”
He flittered back and forth between the shelves and the table, grabbing and stacking books.
“These are special,” he said with a smile, picking up the closest one and blowing off the top layer of dust. “I thought these were lost. These are the books that we trained with. They hold the wisdom of past wizards, the history of our kingdom, and the treasures of my youth.” Elias leaned against the edge of the table and sighed. “And now, they can help you,” he said with his back-to-business voice.
Madeline rolled her eyes at his tone, recognizing it as a favorite of her other tutor, Professor Warren, but ignored its implications.
“It doesn’t seem like you to lose things,” she said, walking over to see the covers in more detail. Her fingers traced the golden spirals, feeling a tingle at the hint of magic held within.
“Well, it wasn’t entirely up to me. During the exile, we had to leave with very little notice. There just wasn’t room to take everything, and these must have been forgotten. When we didn’t find them in our caves, I assumed they had been destroyed.” Elias stiffened at the mention of the exile, a misunderstanding that had earned the wizards banishment for over a decade.
“Why would they be destroyed? Surely you don’t think my father would have done something like that,” she asked.
“Sometimes our hearts act more quickly than our minds,” he said, giving her a knowing wink. “That seems to be a trait in your family.”
She gave him a sharp look, but his warm smile reassured her.
“That’s not always a bad thing. The heart can lead us to do more than we think possible. Now, let’s see if there is anything in here that might help.” He turned back to the pages, flipping through the fragile parchment.
Madeline leaned back against the long wooden table and waited, twisting her long chestnut hair around her fingers. As a princess, certain traits and duties had been drilled into her from an early age. Although the training in poise and manners stuck, her stubborn streak prevailed in the form of impatience. When her hair had been twirled enough, her fingers moved to her gown, fidgeting with the velvet trim, relishing the softness as her eyes scanned the room.
The apothecary shop was a room of mystery and science. Tall, skinny cylinders lined the shelves, stacked high upon each other. The shelves overflowed with dried flowers and branches. Several worn mortars and pestles for smashing and combining herbs sat next to the window. The mixture of sweet and spicy scents permeated the room.
She giggled as her reflection contorted in the different canisters. They exaggerated her long brown hair, her porcelain skin, even her pouting lower lip. Sunlight bounced off the various containers and tins, illumining the walls like shimmering stars. She smiled when the light caught the tip of her green shell necklace and reflected a rainbow across the room. Daniel, her knight champion and betrothed, had given her that shell, and now she wore it every day for good luck. Today she needed it. The unending combination of concoctions Elias came up with pushed her and her taste buds to the edge.
Madeline sighed as the rainbows disappeared. Elias recaptured her attention by shutting the book.
“I know what will work. The right combinations were here all along.” He chuckled lightly, snatching new ingredients.
Her eyes strayed behind him and out to the castle courtyard.
Placed in the outer edge of the castle courtyard, the apothecary shop boasted a perfect view of the fountain, inner stores, and gardens. With the windows open, the delicious scent of freshly baked bread and pastries mixed with the delicate fragrance of the roses. The sweet couple who owned the apothecary had agreed to share their shop with Elias for their training. After the return and reintegration of wizards into the kingdom, the apothecary grew from quiet to bustling.
Twice a week, Elias and Madeline spent their mornings here, continuing her studies. During the exile, the original training ground for the wizards had been transformed into the dungeons. It held wonderful memories for Elias, but for her, it now held the men responsible for destroying their village and almost killing her. Although she was often quick to complain about the amount of time spent studying and training, Madeline was not going to complain about being out of the dungeon. In this shop, when Elias wasn’t talking, all Madeline had to do was close her eyes, and she would be lost in a dream.
Dreams seemed to be her problem lately. Princess Madeline had discovered after her sixteenth birthday that her natural magic came from her dreams. Wizards typically began their training at sixteen, and what had been progressing smoothly for Madeline had suddenly come to a full halt. Now, in his attempts to release the block on her dreams and continue their training, Elias brought her tea after tea made of different herbal combinations.
“Elias?” she asked, interrupting his train of thought. “Why don’t we forget about this dream and focus on the dreams before that? Maybe they hold the answer to this. Maybe this green fog is just me being tired.” Her eyes focused out the window again, where she saw her friends and the villagers.
Elias frowned. “Dreams aren’t static; they change as we change. I need to know why yours are suddenly locked. Why have your clear and precise visions turned into a green fog? These questions may lead us to the next step. Focusing on the past will not help. We need to break this block to the future.”
Elias moved slowly around the room, picking up an herb here, a flower there, and paused, allowing their scents to fill his mind. Crushing a few together, he added small amounts to the boiling water and let the fragrance seep through the room.
“Sometimes these changes are c
lues that we must follow,” he said, continuing his thought. “Like wind over the sea, a path can change in a moment. It is part of the give and flow of life. One of the roles of a wizard is to recognize and use those changes to move forward. Following those leads help change your direction, train of thought, and advice for the kingdom. It’s up to us to figure out what they mean.”
Elias added more sage to the water and handed her the cup of tea. “Take a sip and let’s see if this will help you recall more.”
Madeline winced at the cup in front of her, watching the flecks of leaves settle at the bottom. With a tentative tilt, a small amount of the mixture dripped between her lips. She relaxed and smiled back at Elias, who watched her hesitation with a grin.
The rolling hillsides surrounding the castle of Soron were covered with the colorful banner of spring. Bright orange and purple tulips sparkled on the hillside like castaway jewels. As news of the spring market made its way through the territory, a flood of merchants and specialty vendors began arriving to prepare. Traders and farmers from all over came to help rebuild the tournament field while the villagers concentrated on rebuilding their homes. The air buzzed with anticipation as final preparations for the market took place.
The bright banners of the kingdom of Soron waved in the brisk summer breeze. Crimson, gold, and saffron fabric streaked through the sky as a welcoming invitation to the castle. King Theodore and Prince Braden stood atop the castle walls, watching the kingdom below bustle with activity. Waves of violets, blues, and browns cascaded down the path as visiting royals, their entourages, traders, and merchants entered the kingdom. The banners curved along the windy road leading around the village, towards the castle.
King Theodore stroked his beard, watching the bustle. Hammers rapped in the background.
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