The Last Dragon: Book Three

by LeRoy Clary

  I’d never had a friend beside her. Being a princess had its own prices to pay. Girls, my age would grow up to be my subjects, and they knew it, as I did. Many tried to befriend me at the urging of their parents for anticipated future favors. Others did it to advance themselves or the lot of their fathers. None because of liking me. All had selfish reasons, often more than one, and often intended to better the lives of the parents who sent them to be my friend.

  Only Damon and Kendra had no reason to like me. At first, they hadn’t, and that was a pleasant surprise. They were there to eat until no longer hungry and that satisfied them. Food and a warm place to sleep. Neither understood what a princess was and thus couldn’t try to manipulate me as others tried. As we grew a little older together, both became my friends and protectors. They defended me without my knowledge or asking—and they were ruthless about it.

  I hoped I reciprocated. The three of us were seldom separated. I rarely needed to come to their defense in Crestfallen, especially in the palace politics there, but everyone knew which side I’d take if there was a confrontation.

  The following morning, we learned to walk while chained, which meant stepping with our feet in time and stride to avoid tripping the person in front or behind. While that, and the mental strain of wearing manacles, was horrible, the rags we dressed in were worse.

  Twice Flier managed to break the copper pins in his ankle chains. He had tripped, but I suspected the first time had been to test the pins, not from an accident. The metalsmith pounded in another, and soon, he fell again. Seeing him free himself like that gave me hope.

  The torn, stained, and stinking robes hung on us, intentionally larger sizes than needed to conceal both our physical shapes and weapons. That night, we practiced breaking the pins in the manacles until replacements were in short supply.

  As we reached the level desert at the base of the mountains, we first encountered an army detail guarding the road as if there were thousands of people from Kondor trying to enter Kaon. The pompous corporal leading the detail barked a few commands at the Slave-Master, who ignored them. One of the Kaon Warriors, a man twice the size of the corporal, nudged his horse to the side of the soldier. He said, “Move your men and get out of our way or die this fine morning.”

  “We have a right to . . .”

  The massive blade Kaon Warriors use appeared in his hand, the blade poised to remove the head of the corporal. “Now.”

  The corporal watched the blade as he ordered his men to let us pass. When the last of the clanking chains were beyond, the warrior lowered his blade and rode ahead. It was the first of three details that tried to detain us. All three failed.

  The road had not been built. It was packed sand from the passing of feet, human and animal. To either side was more dry sand without a plant, tree, or brown blade of grass. Ahead were more mountains to our left, and by the end of the day, we saw green. There were trees or grass ahead, which meant water, probably a river. The road we followed seemed to angle to meet it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Damon

  The Slave-Master had noticed the quality of my sword and asked me about the addition along the rear edge of my scabbard as we sat near the campfire. It felt an eerily familiar position being his slave again, and Flier probably felt the same as he too wore leg irons. Flier hadn’t said much since we joined up with the Slave-Master again, but he stood at our side, and there seemed little more to ask for. I told the Slave-Master how it was supposed to hold a few extra arrows, and of the lost longbow, I’d carried across my back because it seemed I’d never had a bow handy when I needed one. He approved of the idea and asked, “You lost your bow, again?”

  “The night your men captured us on the mountain pass. It was beside the campfire after I settled in for the night. We fought with swords, so the bow was lost.”

  “For that, I’m sorry. Kendra told me your blade sang when you fought by the river?”

  “It did. Once. In a battle, I heard it making a scream, and another blade answered. Instead of fighting to the death, the two of us paused and compared our swords, which were identical except for a couple of nicks in mine. They must have been made by the same hands.”

  “Or enchanted by the same sorceress.”

  That idea hadn’t occurred to me then, but he had seized on it instantly. I’d met and dealt with several mages, but only one sorceress and then only briefly. Despite my meager magic abilities, I stayed away from others with stronger powers. “They only deal with emotions and people, not metals and physical objects.”

  “True. But what if one placed an enchantment intended for people on swords to help them identify enemies or friends when fighting?” He seemed to be speculating and not speaking from prior knowledge, and drawing information from the unknown indicated more intelligence than most would credit him with. “While it is a spell placed on metal intended for men, I’ve heard of a few similar ones.”

  “I didn’t know that could be done.”

  The Slave-Master’s eyes bored into mine as he decided if I lied. Then, his mind made up, he said, “Can you read?”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded. “I know a little store in Kaon where books are sold. The owner knows the contents of them all, and if we were to ask and pay him a silver coin or two, he would direct us to books about magic.”

  I said, “That’s a good idea, but I’ve looked for them at Crestfallen, in the royal library and stores. There are none.”

  He smiled in the way that displayed genuine humor. “That is undoubtedly true. But, as I said, I know of a little store in Kaon that is open to but a few customers. Many of the books he sells will not be found in the places you’ve searched.”

  I gave that a few moments to sink in. What he was telling me was that certain books were either secret or kept out of the hands of those without magic powers. It also said the Slave-Master moved among people outside of the law for more than just taking and selling slaves.

  I glanced at the nearest Kaon Warrior. He was barrel-chested, his upper arms as large as my waist, and began learning his fighting skills at around six-years-old. What struck me, was that they obeyed the Slave-Master as at least an equal. He ordered them to do his bidding, and they rarely objected. What hold did he have on them?

  Was it because of money? I didn’t think so. Nor was it the position he held. From his own lips, he’d told the tale of being taken a slave and killing the previous Slave-Master. I’d have thought they would have retaliated by killing him.

  “Why do the warriors you have as guards obey you?”

  “Noticed that, did you?”

  He was smiling again, and that made me uneasy. I waited. From what I knew of the man, he would need to tell me to gain my respect, if for no other reason. “I did. We have time now, how about telling me?”

  “It’s simple. To lead Kaon Warriors, it’s necessary to defeat one in a personal battle. They will follow no others but a victor.” His smile spread.

  The idea of the fat man standing in front of me, the one a full head shorter than any Kaon Warrior, and a man who had never been taught to fight, if my guess was correct, defeated one of them struck me as unlikely. Unbelievable, was more accurate—and it must have shown on my face, because his smile turned into a chuckle, and then to a belly-laugh.

  Obviously, he’d fought and won. It didn’t seem possible until I reconsidered. Large bodies and training are normally a winning combination, but there was also guile and ruthlessness to consider, qualities the Slave-Master had in excess. I said, “We’ll enter the city at mid-day, I heard you tell Kendra. Before then, we need to know what is waiting for us.”

  He said, “The slave-blocks, of course. You’ll be sold to a man who owes me a large debt. He’ll have his people escort the lot of you to his home, which is in the center of the city. I’ll wait for you there.”

  “Wouldn’t it just be easier to deliver us to him and avoid the rest?”

  “Kaon is a city full of eyes and spies. Any action
s out of the ordinary are reported. Then people disappear.”

  We talked late into the night, all of us sitting in a tight group beside the shore of a lake, planning for the morning. Ducks splashed, there were too many mosquitoes, but bats were doing their best to eat as many as possible. A soft breeze blew off the water, cooling the accumulated heat. There were no boats or other campfires within sight. We were alone.

  It appeared the Slave-Master had it well planned, and the wealthy buyer would meet with Elizabeth and plan her next moves. She felt if we could manage to gather several of the wealthy merchants into our cause, we might stand against the Young Mage.

  The discussion went back and forth, examining each detail in minute fashion to make sure nothing went wrong. Flier was nervous. I asked him why.

  “Because this mage is supposed to be so smart and powerful, is he really going just let us walk into his city and defeat him?”

  He had a point.

  Anna came into my mind, giving me a small mental touch of warning, first. It was the polite thing to do, and I was about to compliment her on the creativity when she barged into my head like striking me with the butt of a sword. *He’s here. She’s here.*

  *Who?*.

  *Look at me!*

  It was not like Anna to speak to me harshly like that, with words or mind-speak. I turned my head slowly, dreading what I’d find. It was worse than anything expected, or that I’d seen before. At Anna’s side sat Emma—a familiar small smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

  My feet and legs acted of their own accord. I found myself standing and backing away as I pulled my sword free. With the first of my actions, the others turned and found Emma. All leaped aside, revulsed and scared.

  Emma cackled a small laugh but remained sitting, her small legs crossed. She said, “Hello.”

  “You!” I managed to grunt, completely taken by surprise. For all the good it would do against an apparition as thin as smoke, I held my sword higher, defensively. The only good thing was that from Anna’s warning, I’d thought there would be two enemies. Anna hadn’t known how or what to call Emma.

  “Yes, it’s me, my family. Did you really think you would be allowed to come here and kill me so easily? I have watched every step you’ve taken, listened to your every word. If you scratched your behind or spoke ill of me, I watched and listened. I know you. All of you.”

  It looked like the little girl Emma, the waif we’d rescued, but the voice was cruel and slightly off. The eyes were as flat as iron.

  Kendra moved a step closer to her. “What name do you prefer?”

  “Why do I care what you call me?”

  Kendra was not about to be put off. She displayed her open palms in a gesture of goodwill and said, “We know you as Emma, but you are also who we call the Young Mage. I want to reason with you.”

  “You want to kill me.”

  “No, that isn’t true,” she said in a calm voice. “Remember the day we met? The terrible storm, one you probably created? I want you to think back to that day and remember. We gave up our horses so you could ride. Later, Damon took you in his arms and protected you from the storm until we reached shelter. Remember?”

  “You didn’t know who I was.”

  “You’re right. But we still took you in and protected you.”

  “You believed I was a little girl,” Emma snapped in a voice dripping with anger.

  Kendra took another step closer. Her tone was imploring. “We did. If you had been a small boy, we would have done the same. Can you deny that?”

  Emma’s image flickered for the briefest moment as if the Young Mage had lost his concentration. Then, the voice became harsher and louder. “I came for you. I was going to kill you there in Mercia but decided to wait until your princess showed up so I could kill her at the same time. I enjoyed watching her plan to sign a treaty with Kondor—when I ruled it the entire period. I laughed at your efforts, and now I’ll spit on your graves.”

  *Emma’s hiding something.*

  I agreed with Anna’s silent statement. Worse, he sounded like a spoiled young man who had never been required to learn self-control, much like a few princes at home. He was threatening to kill us, but he—as we saw him—had no form. No substance. How could he kill us if he couldn’t touch us?

  The quick answer was that he couldn’t. I sent a thought to Anna, *He’s also scared of something.*

  He couldn’t touch us in his present form. He’d admitted he could see and hear us, probably because he knew us so well and how to do it. In the form of Emma, he knew of our strengths and weaknesses, as well as our location at all times. That line of reasoning also revealed how the Slave-Master’s people knew to attack us on the mountain pass, and how the small army knew where we were a few days ago. How the army knew Elizabeth was on the ship. He had told his servants, in some fashion.

  Thinking back, he’d also known where the Gallant sailed and where to blockade it so Princess Elizabeth nor we could proceed to Dagger. The army in Vin knew our location and had nearly captured us. The Young Mage had been behind all of it.

  I realized all those things in an instant, but the central question remained. Two of them, I realized. He wanted us killed and had tried several times and failed. The first question was obvious. We wanted to stop him. The second was as Anna suggested, what was he afraid of?

  I touched Anna’s mind, *What is he afraid of? What is he hiding?*

  *It’s not you. I think it is Kendra but don’t know why I think that. It’s just a feeling.*

  I pulled away from Anna and allowed my thoughts to churn like water behind a rock in a river. It spun around and went in all kinds of crazy directions, none with a purpose other than to eventually reach the mouth of the river and flow into the ocean. The water acted erratic and went off course here and there, but always returned to the main objective. It had to reach the ocean.

  Instead of fighting it, I went with the mental flow until stumbling onto a different stream of thought. From the Young Mage’s standpoint, what was his purpose, his objective? Killing us was a symptom. There was a reason behind it that caused him to want to kill us.

  Anna’s words came back to me. He’s hiding something.

  My mind, like the river of thought I paralleled, changed direction and took a wide turn. The Young Mage had taken control of Kaon, Kondor, Dagger, Vin, Trager, and almost Dire. There might be more kingdoms farther to the south where he’d done the same. He was greater than any king in history. He controlled the mages and members of four or five Councils that ruled the former kingdoms, and with a few words, he could combine them into the most powerful kingdom I’d ever heard of—with the largest army, one that could march into Dire as if we had no army, which was almost true.

  The army he could raise would roll over neighboring kingdoms if they fought against him. Or, he could simply use the same tactics that he had so far. Either way, he’d soon rule a vast empire.

  With all that in mind, I reverted to the core of his problem. He had stalled his conquests while projecting the image of a little girl for more than a month as she walked, slept, talked, and was one of us. One of four. Flier, Avery, and Elizabeth came later. He had joined with Anna, Kendra, and me.

  Logic ruled out Anna. She was a convenient child to use as a shield to hide behind. Anna was outspoken while the image of Emma was quiet, always watching and listening. That left Kendra and me.

  I glanced at Emma, who wore a faint smile directed at me as if she or he knew my thoughts. I reached out with my mind and raised some sand into the air and used a breath of wind to push it at her. The grains clearly entered and exited her projected body. Then they flew off in random directions and disappeared. I hadn’t made the sand do that. The smile on the image increased.

  The Young Mage knew of my small-magic. He had shunted it aside as a lesson and warning.

  It was not me he was scared of.

  So, it had to be Kendra.

  The Young Mage had to be scared of Kendra. That is what
he was hiding. I reached out to Anna. *He is scared of Kendra.*

  *No.*

  Her answer dumbfounded me. I’d followed a completely logical chain of thought, and a ten-year-old challenged it? I believed I’d managed to figure out something important and shot back at her, *No? Why not?*

  *It’s the dragon.*

  My fury evaporated like morning fog on a summer day. Anna was right again. It was not Kendra, but the dragon he feared. To complicate matters, he needed the Essence of the dragon for his magic to work—or so we believed.

  If he did not, it was like a new hand being dealt with a game of blocks. We wouldn’t know the outcome until the hand was played.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Princess Elizabeth

  We sat at the campfire in a circle facing each other, but all eyes were on me, their princess as if I could solve the problem of the Young Mage. Damon looked both scared and angry. Anna watched him too, but so did the fake Emma, so all eyes were not on me after all, but they all waited patiently to hear my next words. What were we going to do, they wanted to know? How could I tell them anything of value with the apparition sitting directly in front of me, listening?

  Anna edged closer to Damon, her eyes nearly glazed with fear.

  Flier said, “What’s happening?”

  His attention had also turned to Damon, and the Slave-Master did too. Instead of waiting for my decision, they all looked at him. I shifted to look his way.

  Damon looked at none of us. He looked at the thing we called Emma with unwavering concentration. Hate filled his face. He pointed at it and said, “You need to explain.”

  The image of Emma spat, her eyes focused as hard on Damon as his were on her.

  Damon said, “It does not have to be this way.”

  “You don’t know anything,” the false-Emma shouted.

  “I know a few things. One is that you’re scared, maybe for the first time in your existence. You want to stop us from reaching Kaon. That is your goal.”