by Resa Nelson
Suddenly, the tiny image from Fee's dress shattered into golden ashes that drifted up with the smoke through the center hole in the roof.
Exhausted, Glee collapsed to the floor. Fee rested her elbows on her knees, doubling over and letting her face drop into her hands.
Astrid sank to one knee, grateful neither sister saw her trembling hands. Realizing she still held onto the potion bottle, Astrid decided to place it back on the shelf before she accidentally dropped it. But when she looked at it, Astrid noticed the bottle's label displayed a drawing she recognized. A symbol she'd seen drawn on maps warning of dangerous territories that should not be entered.
Reading the symbol out loud, Astrid said, “Here be dragons.”
CHAPTER 10
Astrid faced the alchemist sisters and held up the bottle containing black-red powder. “What is this?”
Still breathing hard from the exertion of raising information from the dark stone, Glee hauled herself up on the bench beside Fee. Glee draped a comforting arm around her sister, who still sat doubled over with her face in her hands. Glancing down, Glee said, “Nothing you need concern yourself with.”
Astrid's heart raced. During the past months she’d had brief conversations with alchemists who could tell her nothing about the stone. Astrid’s only real experience with practitioners of this trade had been with the Scalding family alchemist. But Astrid's brother Drageen had secreted away the alchemist and Astrid had never known the woman's name. That alchemist had destroyed Astrid's happy life and murdered dozens of people, all for the sake of bloodstones.
Once more, she withdrew Starlight from its sheath with her free hand. “I know the symbol on this bottle. It says, 'Here be dragons.' Now tell me what this is.”
Fee's body shook as if she were sobbing, but she made no sound.
Glee finally looked up. “It's the blood of dragons, dried up and pestled. But not dragons like the ones you keep company with. It's the blood of the kind of dragons you slay.”
No one other than DiStephan's ghost knew of her relationship with Taddeo and Norah and the other dragons she'd met. How could Glee possibly know?
As if reading the surprise in her eyes, Glee sighed. “It's in the sword as well as the stone. None of this is happenstance.”
“Hush!” Fee mumbled through her hands.
Glee blinked quickly. “What harm is there in telling her about her own family?”
Suspicion raced through Astrid like a wave of oncoming sickness. “How did you know I'm a Scalding when you first saw me? What can you tell from looking at my sword? And what are the portents you mentioned?”
Fee gathered herself and sat up, her face flushed and puffy as if she’d been crying, although no tears had stained her face. “How much do you already know about yourself?”
Astrid spoke slowly and steadily. “I'm the one with the sword. You will be answering my questions, not—”
Fee flicked her fingernails at the sword, and its tip suddenly plummeted to the ground.
It's trickery.
Astrid tightened her grip on the hilt. But no matter how much muscle she put into it, she couldn't lift Starlight's tip off the ground. Putting the bottle on the cottage floor, she placed both hands on the grip and tried again with no luck.
Fee leaned forward and snatched the bottle back into her possession. When she spoke, her voice sounded cold and hard. “We have no time to waste on fools.”
The sisters' skin paled to a steel color, and their eyes diminished to something small and birdlike. Their nails grew into claws.
Don't change them. You never have the right to let your opinion of them change the way they look, even if they can't see it.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on drawing her feelings about the alchemists deep inside so that they could look like themselves again.
But when Astrid opened her eyes, the sisters looked even more menacing as their cloaks rose and shaped themselves into wings.
Glee's voice turned guttural. “Show some sense, dragonslayer.”
Of course. Why didn't I realize this sooner?
Smiling, Astrid remembered DiStephan on the day they'd first met and how he'd disarmed the childseller by feigning incompetence. Instead of trying to lift the sword, she stepped forward to stand Starlight on its point. She draped one arm around its crossguard like placing an arm around a friend's shoulders.
“You're shapeshifters,” Astrid said. She nodded at the bottle in Fee's hands. “And that's how you do it. You use dried lizard blood instead of eating its meat or drinking its blood.” Astrid paused, watching the expressions on their faces change from menace to surprise. “Funny how the Southlanders frown on that. Unless you're a dragonslayer, of course.”
The hovering cloaks fell, and the sisters returned to their normal appearance and demeanor. There was a touch of apprehension in their laughter, even though it still sounded musical and light.
Astrid felt the force keeping Starlight grounded dissipate, but she kept her arm draped across its crossguard. “What are you trying to hide?”
Sighing in resignation, Glee said, “Not hide. It's not about hiding.”
Fee added, “Remember we are alchemists. We have a duty to the practice and each other and all other alchemists.”
“What duty?” Astrid said.
The sisters exchanged nervous glances. Fee answered. “To respect the workings of destiny.”
Astrid didn't necessarily believe in destiny, but she could see the sisters did. “Whose destiny?”
“Anyone's, even our own,” Glee said. “But in this particular case, yours.”
“Our work attracts knowledge, and it swirls around us all the time, but especially when we practice alchemy,” Fee said. “Its power is mightiful, and its edges shine brightly, showing us what we must not reveal to others.”
Astrid curled one hand loosely around the grip and placed her other hand on top of the pommel. With a quick flick, she spun Starlight on its point, flashes of light dancing around the room as the firelight bounced off the spinning blade. “If that means you can't tell me about my future, does it mean you can tell me about my past?”
In unison, the sisters took their gaze off the twirling sword and looked at Astrid with relief. “Of course,” Glee said. “We can tell you all about your family. Especially your grandfather, Benzel Scalding. Although he was more commonly known as Benzel of the Wolf because he first became known as a wolf slayer and peddled their skins.”
“First known?” Astrid said, letting Starlight slow down until it stood still. “Was he later known for something else?”
Fee and Glee exchanged concerned glances before Fee piped up. “Of course! Your grandfather was the first dragonslayer!”
CHAPTER 11
Fee, Glee, and Astrid sat on the wooden benches eating sing root soup and bread while the sisters told the dragonslayer about her past. The fire burned more quietly, and its light inside the cottage became softer and gentler. The spices from the soup intertwined with the smoke, which somehow made Astrid feel at home.
“Did you know him? My grandfather?” Astrid blew on her second helping of soup, and its steam wafted around her face.
“No,” Glee said, cradling her own bowl in her hands. “He died long before we were born. “He’d grown very, very old by the time your father was born.”
“It's a mightiful shame,” Fee said between sips. “The stories about your grandfather prove he was a great and noble warrior. If he'd lived long enough to raise your father and teach him how to be a man, none of this Scalding nonsense would have happened.” She paused, drinking several gulps of soup from the side of her bowl. Fee gazed in the distance. “And the world we live in would be different. Quite different.”
Astrid frowned. “Different in what way?”
Fee kept looking into the distance as if she could see the things she spoke about. “We'd be at peace with the dragons, for one thing.”
“Speculation, pure and simple,” Glee argued. “No gu
arantee anything of the like would have happened.”
“Your family might have come to reign over all of the Northlands. In a case such as that, the Midlands and Southlands would be humbled into keeping the peace. It might have even suppressed the threat posed by the Krystr people.”
“Nonsense.” Glee shook her head. “No one could have accomplished such a thing, not even Benzel of the Wolf. And the fact of the matter is that Benzel's son was easy prey for the Scaldings. What's done is done, and there's no changing it.”
“Prey for the Scaldings?” Astrid said. “But we are Scaldings.”
“Not quite,” Fee said.
Glee cleared her throat and sang:
Benzel the mighty warrior
Set Tower Island free.
The Scaldings gave it to him
As his slaughter fee.
Many years he lived alone
Happy as a dove.
But when a woman crossed his path
He recognized true love.
She gave to him his only child
As she passed away.
Benzel cared and loved his son
Until his dying day.
A small child on an island
Cannot live alone.
Thus the Scaldings took him in
And reclaimed their home.
The boy sang songs of dragons,
Which no one did believe.
They say the boy did not go mad;
It's simply how he grieved.
They gave the boy their Scalding name
And treated him like kin.
He played with other Scalding boys
Until they grew to men.
Now you know the story
Of island and tower.
Children sing of danger
Where the dragons glower.
Astrid pondered the words as hope rose like dawn in her chest. “Does that mean I'm not a Scalding?”
Fee shook her head. “Sorry, Dear. Neither your grandfather nor father was a Scalding. But your father married one, so you're half dragonslayer and half Scalding.”
The light broke apart and faded inside Astrid. But a new question occurred to her. “And my brother? Drageen?”
“Your half-brother,” Fee said, “is half Scalding and half commoner. He has no dragonslayer blood in him. That is why he is incapable of producing bloodstones, much less a dark one like the one you gave to us.”
Glee jabbed her sister's ribs with an elbow. “Keep your mightiful mouth shut!”
Swallowing her surprise along with a mouthful of soup, Astrid said, “I suspected as much. I don't remember much of my parents, and I suspect no one ever told Drageen. I think he believes he's my true brother.”
Putting her empty bowl on the ground, Fee took the stone from where it had remained resting in her lap and handed it back to Astrid. “You'll be wanting to know what we think of this.”
“No!” Glee said, staring into the remaining soup in her bowl. Looking up sharply at Fee, she said, “Fetch the snowdrop seeds!”
Paling, Fee jumped to her feet and ran toward the shelves, searching the bottles with shaking hands. Finally, she found a jar containing small yellow seeds and raced back to Glee, who held her bowl at arm's length. Fee un-stoppered the bottle, took a large pinch of yellow seeds, and sprinkled them into Glee's soup.
An immediate stench filled the air, and thunder rumbled inside the cottage despite the bright light of day that poured in from the open doorway.
“There's no time! They're too close!” Glee said.
Turning toward Astrid, Fee shouted, “It’s the Krystrs! Run!”
Startled, Astrid looked around the cottage, seeing nothing out of sorts. “But—”
Fee and Glee dissipated into dark smoky outlines of themselves, ethereal and unworldly. The cellar air sucked them through the floorboards and into the hidden space below, leaving Astrid alone in the room.
CHAPTER 12
Shaking her head in disbelief, Astrid stared at the empty room where Fee and Glee had stood just moments ago. Dropping to her knees, Astrid ran her fingertips along the edges of the floorboards through which the sisters had evaporated. Sooty residue stuck to her skin, smelling of wood and smoke and earthy spices.
Astrid had been a shapeshifter all of her adult life, but everyone she knew altered their own appearance slightly. In her blacksmithing days she'd made herself a bit taller and increased the size of her muscles to make it easier to smite iron. Back in the village of Guell, the jeweler Beamon narrowed and elongated his fingers. The day she'd met DiStephan, his father had changed the color of his skin in order to blend in with the trunk of a tree. For that matter, Astrid had changed the color of her skin and hair as soon as she'd learned how to do so.
But never in her life had she witnessed any shapeshifters who could turn themselves into smoke! Could it be possible? Or had Astrid imagined it?
A soft beam of light fell through the gap in the floorboards and into the darkness below. Astrid squinted to look between the boards. For a moment, she thought she saw something move. “Hello?”
A faint voice drifted up, and it might have belonged to one of the sisters, although Astrid couldn't tell which one. “Run!” the voice whispered, drifting like milkweed on a summer breeze. “Don’t let the Krystrs catch you.”
The air inside the cottage shimmered cold for a moment, and Astrid shivered, realizing she hadn't heeded the alchemists' first warning. “You left me alone!” Astrid cried out, touching Starlight's pommel to make sure she had the sword safely in its sheath. With her other hand, she squeezed the pouch hanging from her belt until she felt the sharp edges of the stone, making sure she had it, too. To be on the safe side, she pulled out the leather gloves tucked beneath her belt and slipped them on.
Clouds of dust rolled through the open doorway, darkening the cottage. Outside, a multitude of hoof beats thundered to a halt.
No, no, no.
Astrid searched the cottage for another way out as the boots of dozens of horsemen thumped to the ground outside. Seeing no other doors, she gazed up at the hole in the center of the roof, through which the smoke from the hearth fire escaped. With the fire blazing directly underneath, she saw no way to get to it without burning herself alive. And even if she somehow pulled herself up through the hole so high above, would the thatch roof support her weight? Or would she come tumbling through it, possibly into the flames?
When the first man ran through the doorway, Astrid made her decision by withdrawing Starlight and pointing its tip at him. The heavyset man wore a dark beard typical of most Southlander men. His eyes widened at the sight of the dragonslayer's sword, nearly twice as long as the short sword in his own hands. As more men trampled into the cottage, the first one yelled, stepped to the side, and delivered a sideswiping blow at Astrid's leg.
Two years ago, she might have panicked and thrashed ineffective blows in defense.
But a year ago she'd trained with one of the best sword masters in the Southlands, Vinchi. And with Margreet as her training partner, Astrid had learned how to fight men instead of lizards. In the time it took for her to inhale, everything she'd learned came rushing back like instinct running through her veins.
Fighting a lizard required only a sharp blade. Although dangerous, lizards were limited in how they fought and could be killed by simple, direct means. Fighting men required resourcefulness and trickery.
Fighting men required using every part of the sword in many different ways.
Lunging onto her back foot, Astrid delivered a downward blow that would have split the man's head open had he not ducked and stepped back at the same time.
When a second man charged, Astrid grabbed Starlight's blade with her gloved hands. Swinging the sword like a club, she smacked him in the head with its pommel, and he dropped to the ground, unconscious from the heft of the blow.
Another man criss-crossed his sword through the air while he stepped toward her. Blocking his blow, Astrid stepped past him. She locked
her leg behind his to buckle his knees and then used Starlight as a lever to throw him onto his back. Placing one foot on his chest, she put Starlight's point against his neck. She knew only a little bit of the Southlander language and struggled for a moment to find the right words. Staring into the man's frightened eyes, she said, “Get on horses and I let you live.”
Someone chuckled.
“Like everyone else, he is expendable,” a man said in Northlander.
Astrid glanced up briefly to see the heavyset man with the dark beard speak before returning her attention to the man lying under her foot. She'd also noticed a roomful of men surrounding her with dozens more waiting outside.
“But what will you accomplish by killing him? We are many, and you are alone. If you kill him, we will act as one and kill you.”
“I am dragonslayer,” Astrid said, sticking to the little she knew of the Southlander language to make sure all the men understood her. “Kill me, and I kill you.”
The men's laughter startled her, and Astrid looked up in surprise. Perhaps her Southlander needed more work.
“Foolish girl,” the man with the beard said while he laughed. “You may fancy yourself a dragonslayer, but everyone knows there is no such thing as a dragon.”
Even more startled, Astrid felt her jaw drop in astonishment.
The bearded man stepped toward her.
Astrid spun, swinging her blade up at his face.
But he ducked and moved close enough to wrap one hand around her wrists, squeezing them as he wrenched Starlight away from her.
CHAPTER 13
Astrid soon found herself with her hands bound together in front of her body with leather ties. The first man who burst into Fee and Glee's cottage had picked Starlight up from the floor and strapped it to his back. He then picked Astrid up and flung her face down across the back of his honey-brown horse, whose hair felt coarse and smelled of musk and hay.
Dozens of horses grazed outside the cottage while the men scoured and ransacked it. With her head hanging upside down and the blood rushing to it, Astrid felt askew. At first she'd planned to simply slide off the horse and onto her feet with the intent of running away. But a much longer leather tie connected her hands to her feet, running beneath the horse's belly. If she tried to slide off, she'd simply end up hanging underneath the horse where one kick could kill her instantly.
