The Crown and the Dragon

by John D. Payne

  “Liar!” she snapped, wrenching the dagger free.

  Aedin stepped back as Elenn advanced, menacing him with the blade. He reached up and took hold of the hilt of his Sithian saber but did not draw it.

  “Careful, now, Elenn,” he said. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

  She slashed at him with the dagger, and he had to jump backward to avoid it.

  “Give it back!” she cried.

  “Happy to,” he said, holding out the case.

  She reached for it, and he pulled it away.

  “Soon as you give me back that dagger,” he said.

  Elenn narrowed her eyes. “No, I’m keeping it,” she said, waving the blade more aggressively.

  “Please put that thing away before you get lucky.”

  “Happy to—soon as you give me back the case.”

  Aedin cursed. “Look, I could take that knife from you.”

  “I’d like to see you try!” she shouted.

  He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t want to fight you. Just want to talk. Nice and quiet. Like folk who’ve broken bread and shared shelter.”

  Elenn lowered the dagger slightly. There was a moment of silence as both of them considered their options. Not far away, a flock of crows was cawing. Aedin tilted his head.

  “So, talk,” she said.

  “Give me one honest answer, and I’ll give you this box. More than a fair trade, by my reckoning.”

  “Ask your question.”

  “The thing in this case,” he began. “Is it …” He trailed off.

  The cawing of the crows was growing louder. Much louder. The flock must be enormous. He glanced up and then over at Elenn.

  “I feel it, too,” she said. She sounded worried. “Something is wrong.”

  “The crows,” he muttered, pointing south. The sky there was full of ravens, hundreds of them, flying in their direction. “Too early in the morning—barely dawn. And there’s way too many together. I don’t know what’s happening here, but it’s not right.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “In fact, it’s probably much worse than you think.” She stepped closer and offered her hand. “Truce?”

  Aedin shook her hand. Then he handed Elenn the wooden box.

  “Thank you,” she said, tucking it away.

  “You owe me a question,” he said, pointing a finger at her.

  “Fine. Now let’s get out of here.”

  Aedin drew the eagle-headed saber from the scabbard strapped to his back, and offered Elenn his hand. She took it. They headed northeast, away from the campsite. “There are caves behind the cataracts. I’ve stashed supplies there, unless someone else has already found them. Either way, we can get out of sight.”

  “I’m not sure that will be enough,” said Elenn.

  “Me either,” admitted Aedin. “I don’t know what’s going on here, or even if we really do need to hide. Could be jumping at shadows.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, and saw the flock of ravens swirling and roiling like an angry black storm cloud, only a few hundred yards behind them. Suddenly, the whole cacophonous mass of birds darted to the ground at once—like a hawk pouncing on a hare. Aedin wasn’t sure, but he thought it was the spot where they had made their camp.

  “I would say the shadows are jumping at us,” said Elenn.

  They dashed through the thick woods as the chorus of caws at the campsite behind them reached a fever pitch. Aedin wanted open ground so he could stop dodging trees and just run, but he was also glad for the cover that the canopy of leaves provided.

  “What’s chasing us?” he asked.

  “Don’t know,” panted Elenn. “Reminds me of … something I’ve seen before.”

  “Any bright ideas?”

  “Keep running.”

  The cataracts were only a league away, and Aedin could hear them—although the rushing waters had to compete with the noise of the crows, and the frantic beating of his own heart. He ran toward the sound of the water, pulling her behind him.

  Elenn’s breathing was labored. She was from a soft life and not used to this kind of exertion. But if they didn’t hurry, the two of them might not get to the cataracts with time enough to make the descent down to the safety of the caves.

  “Just a little farther,” Aedin said.

  Gasping for air, Elenn nodded an unspoken acknowledg-ment.

  Hearing caws, Aedin glanced up through the leaves and saw a half dozen ravens flying above them in the air. They had been spotted. No point in trying to hide in the woods any more. They ran for the tree line.

  When they reached open ground, Aedin judged that the cataracts were less than a mile away. Looking over his shoulder, he saw two distinct flocks of ravens behind them above the trees, each one with at least a hundred birds. Their harsh cries filled his ears. Aedin cursed, and ran desperately across the heather with Elenn in tow.

  As they ran, the birds raced along ahead of them. Aedin could see the cataracts now, but the birds had cut them off.

  He cursed and stopped running. They were out in the open now, at least a hundred yards short of the cataracts and the cliff route down to the safety of the caves. They could run for the trees again, but the ravens were faster.

  “I say we just run right through them,” said Aedin.

  Elenn looked at him as if he were mad.

  “Sometimes crows will mob people who get close to their nests,” Aedin admitted. “Never heard of ravens actually attacking people in open country like this. It’s just not normal.”

  “This,” shouted Elenn, waving her hands at the crows in front of them, “is not normal.”

  Aedin tightened his grip on his saber.

  “Think I can keep them off us with this,” he said. “Unless… you have a better idea?”

  Elenn shook her head.

  Aedin dashed forward, straight at the heart of the flock. As he got closer, he bellowed and whirled his saber in the air above his head. Instead of dispersing, as he had hoped, the cloud of ravens began to fly in two tight spirals that spun downward into a pair of swirling black columns—like thick, oily smoke.

  Aedin pulled up short, and watched the smoky masses coalesce into dark figures about ten yards in front of him. The figures advanced toward them, their faces and bodies covered with hooded cloaks. Their arms were outstretched, unfurling long black talons.

  There was a sound very like a hundred ravens all squawking at once, and a sepulchral voice said, “Die.”

  ***

  Chapter Nineteen

  Elenn watched, horrified, as the two shambling monsters approached. Remembering the thing that called itself Naihman on the road near Anondea, her mind swam with questions.

  Was one of these two that same creature? Had it been following her this whole time? What were they—demons? Was the Falarica alone enough to banish them as Ethelind had done, or was some particular spell or ritual required? Since they had formed out of flocks of crows, could they be killed with something so mundane as Aedin’s sword?

  Elenn reached into her stained and torn clothing to put her hand on the Falarica’s wooden case. She also drew her Sithian dagger. Gritting her teeth, she stepped forward, determined to protect the precious artifact that had been placed in her care.

  Aedin shoved her behind him. “No time for foolish bravery,” he barked.

  Ethelind would have said the same thing, Elenn thought. And then she would have done something brave and foolish.

  He charged the nearest of the monsters. As he reached it, he ducked and slid under its outstretched talons, slashing at its unprotected belly with his long cavalry saber. As his sword passed into the monster’s body, it burst apart into a flock of ravens which cawed angrily and swirled above their heads.

  Her heart leaped. It had dispersed—just like the monster on the road, when Ethelind had used the Falarica.

  Aedin flashed her a grin. “That’s a piece of luck.”

  She smiled back, but the other monster was advancing on Aedin. Despite the
ease with which he had dispatched the first, the second showed no sign of fear. Why?

  Aedin and the second monster approached each other. Above them, the ravens again spiraled down into a column of oily smoke—this one behind Aedin’s back.

  “Look out!” she cried.

  When Aedin turned to look, the second monster screeched and lashed out at him with its talons. Aedin tried to duck out of the way, but received a gash on his sword arm. He cursed, loudly, as he now faced both monsters again.

  Elenn cursed, too—quietly. There must be some way for her to help. She briefly considered her dagger, but as she lifted it she heard Aunt Ethelind’s voice in her head, telling her not to be stupid. Her greatest weapon was her mind. She shoved the dagger back into her belt.

  What did she know about the monsters? Ethelind had told the other one that this was not its world. But they were made of crows. They could break apart and reform again. Even before the monsters had coalesced, the crows had been behaving strangely. There was something unnatural at work—some power behind them, driving them.

  Conjuring, Ethelind always said, was all about imposing your will on the world around you. The bigger the change you wanted to make, the more difficult it was. The world always pushed back, reasserting the existing order.

  As her mind raced, Elenn’s fingers absently traced the tiny bronze figure of the sea nymph on the outside of the case.

  “Elenn!” called Aedin.

  She looked up and saw him on the ground, scooting backwards towards her. He still held his sword and was awkwardly trying to slash at the monsters, but they were not deterred. They glided toward him eagerly, screaming their horrible cries.

  With her left hand wrapped protectively around the Falarica case, Elenn reached out with her right. She made the sign of the Leode by interlocking her middle two fingers and spreading the rest out like the branches of a living tree.

  “You are birds,” she said aloud, staring at the two monsters. “You can’t walk. You can’t talk. You can’t hurt us. You are crows—chattering, obnoxious, stupid crows.”

  The monsters stopped in their tracks. Aedin pushed himself out of their reach and rose to his feet with some difficulty.

  One of the monsters took a step forward, but they both seemed suddenly unsure of themselves. Within their cloaks, Elenn thought she could see them quaking—or convulsing slightly, as if they were losing control of their bodies.

  “You are crows,” repeated Elenn, emphatically, “not monsters. You can’t hurt us.”

  “Of course they can,” said Aedin, incredulously. “Were you not watching?”

  The monsters again advanced, cawing and cackling. “We know what you carry,” one of them said, in a coarse voice that echoed like a tomb. “Give it to us.”

  “They talking about what I think?” asked Aedin, standing between Elenn and the monsters with his sword drawn.

  “You are birds!” shouted Elenn, ignoring Aedin for the moment. “You are silly black crows, and you will fly away and find some other shiny thing to look at. You can’t walk, you can’t talk, you can’t hurt us!”

  “Elenn—”

  “Not now!” she hissed.

  The monsters again halted in their tracks and seemed to waver.

  “Birds!” declared Elenn. “You are naughty birds, and you are caught!” She flung her right hand out as if she were casting a net, like a fisherman or a Vitalion duelist.

  Both of the monsters screeched and burst apart, but this time the flocks of ravens did not fly away. Instead, many of the birds fell to the ground as if tangled up in invisible netting.

  Without waiting to see what would happen, Elenn darted forward past Aedin, and past all the birds struggling to free themselves from her illusory nets. Behind her, she heard him limping along as fast as he could.

  “Magic?” he yelled.

  “Were you not watching?” Elenn yelled back, running as fast as she could.

  Aedin called for her to stop, but she ignored him. Ahead of her were the cataracts, a series of cliffs and waterfalls where the River Mareys crashed down from the mountains of Ghel into the Riverlands. Aedin had said that there were caves here behind the cataracts, where they could safely hide, but she didn’t know where, or how to reach them.

  Elenn reached the edge and looked out, taking great care to keep her balance. To her left was the River Mareys, wide and strong and rushing down to the waterfalls, which stretched out almost a half mile. It was not one great fall, but dozens of them, as the water cascaded down the broken face of the cliffs. Directly below her, Elenn could see a relatively calm pool of water, but it was a sixty foot drop, and the pool emptied into another waterfall that dropped almost a hundred feet. Looking to her right, she saw no path, no way down.

  Elenn turned around, and saw Aedin catching up.

  “How do we get to your caves from here?” she said.

  “We don’t,” he said angrily. “Wrong part of the cliff.”

  “But—was it—did I—?” Elenn struggled to get out the words, both wanting and not wanting to know if she was the one responsible for leading them astray.

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Aedin. “Look.” He jerked his head back behind him.

  The ravens had freed themselves, and were again swirling in two great clouds. Soon, the monsters would be upon them again.

  “Got any more magic tricks?” Aedin asked.

  “Just one,” said Elenn. She backed up about twenty feet, and then ran to the edge of the cliff and jumped off.

  As she plunged downward through the air, Elenn heard Aedin yell, “That’s not magic!” And in spite of the danger of the situation, she smiled.

  Then she hit the water.

  Her world went black.

  Sometime later, Elenn opened her eyes and found that she was underwater. It was cold. But it was beautiful. The morning light shone through the water—rose, and orange, and pink. It was like being inside the awakening dawn, except that she felt a tremendous weight crushing her as if she were in a vice.

  She couldn’t remember how she got underwater. Had she been unconscious? That seemed like a reasonable explanation. Elenn had thought landing in the water would be soft, but it had kicked her in the chest like a draft horse. It didn’t really hurt now, which was odd.

  She felt a hard surface at her back, and something pressing against her from the front. She decided that the pressure was from the water rushing out of the pool into the next waterfall, and the hard surface was a large stone. She could feel her arms fanning at her side, trying to push her up and out of the water, but to little effect. Elenn thought that this was probably just as well, since if she were to rise up, she would probably be carried over the falls and into the next pool, which she might not survive.

  Elenn heard a loud splash and saw a great rush of bubbles spearing down from the surface. The water was not very clear, but it was not difficult to guess that this was Aedin jumping off the cliff into the pool. She watched him thrashing around in the water, struggling to reach the surface. He was certainly very animated, whoever he was.

  Elenn wanted to open her mouth to call out to him and tell him that all was well, but her mouth was busy making slow gulps over which she had little control. Her legs simply hung limp. And her arms were likewise unresponsive, doing nothing but fanning up and down. This was unfortunate, because Elenn wanted to hand the Falarica to Aedin.

  She remembered being very angry that morning when she had caught him looking at it. There had been a good reason, but it no longer seemed important. The only important thing was to get the Falarica to the Fortress of the Leode, as Aunt Ethelind had intended. Elenn thought Aedin would do that if she asked him.

  As she thought about the Falarica, she felt it stir in the case inside her clothing. Perhaps the little bronze sea nymph on the outside of the case wanted to swim out into the pool and enjoy herself.

  She heard someone calling her name. Where was it coming from? Who was calling for her? And what was the hurry? She ha
d been running all morning, and now it was pleasant to simply bob peacefully under the water.

  In the water, she now saw a woman who looked vaguely familiar. Elenn smiled. Perhaps this was the person who had been calling her name.

  The woman smiled back and swam closer to Elenn. Her hair was long. She was unclothed. The woman reached out and touched the Falarica. The water began to glow, and Elenn felt a pleasant warmth.

  The woman opened her mouth and a flood of bubbles emerged, which filled the water. As the bubbles surrounded Elenn, she heard singing. Although she only saw one woman, she heard a chorus—haunting, beautiful, ethereal, and all in perfect harmony. Maybe every bubble had a song inside. She couldn’t understand the words, but she was able to hear her perfectly well, as though they were both above the water.

  The light began to fade, and Elenn’s vision narrowed. But in the darkness, she saw numerous figures swimming around her, like water angels. She decided that she no longer wanted to ascend to the sky when she died. She wanted to sink slowly down into the water and join this lovely choir. Perhaps she would find Aunt Ethelind.

  Her eyes closed, and Elenn felt herself descending, floating down to heaven. It was a warm, wonderful, comfortable feeling.

  A strong arm wrapped tightly around her neck, roughly dragging Elenn upward. She tried to resist but had no strength. She was forcibly jerked up and out of the water. Her face scraped against rough stone, and someone was pounding her furiously on the back and shouting at her.

  Elenn felt cold. Her head spun, and she couldn’t understand where she was or what was happening to her. All she knew was that she had been abruptly wrenched from paradise into a barbaric nightmare of yelling and hitting.

  She opened her mouth to protest, and her whole body shook with a violent spasm as she vomited what seemed like gallon after gallon of river water. Every part of her body hurt, inside and out. Her chest heaved, and with indescribable burning pain, Elenn breathed.

  “Thank the Gods!” cried Aedin, and he cradled her like a baby as she lost consciousness for the second time in less than five minutes.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty