by Resa Nelson
Entering the Boglanders’ camp, Trep appreciated their remoteness meant they seldom entertained visitors and would likely be startled by the sight of one. A few Boglanders walked with purpose or stood deep in conversation, not noticing Trep’s presence.
Suddenly, he heard someone cry, “Trep!”
Turning toward the voice, his heart softened and he grinned at the first sight he’d had of his sister in many years.
Lifting her skirts above her running feet, Peppa’s face lit up and she raced across the camp. But before she reached his outstretched arms, waiting to embrace her, Peppa stopped short and horror crossed her face. Pointing at Trep, she screamed, “Dragon!”
CHAPTER 29
The path of light streaming from Astrid’s hand guided her across the Far North to small villages where she spread the word of Mandulane’s pending invasion and the portent she now believed she held in her hand. Because villagers already knew her to be a dragonslayer, most believed her. They packed up the goods they could carry and followed the direction of the beam, which now pointed toward the Far East.
Townspeople often travelled with Astrid to the next village, so the number of travelers trekking with her across the Northlands grew until a wall of light separated them and sent Astrid in a different direction.
One day Astrid encountered the same path she’d taken years ago when she believed the merchant Sigurthor had stolen her sword Starlight from her own smithery.
I’m nearing the heart of the Northlands.
She smiled, recognizing the fork in the forest road where she’d brought the newly-hatched Smoke, Fire, and Slag with the hope that they would smell the merchant’s tracks only to find them uncooperative and disinterested. The path led out of the forest and alongside a field of wheat nestled in a narrow valley between the forest and the mountains leading to the interior of the Northlands.
She walked for many days until she found the dirt road winding through sharply-rising mountains. Astrid remembered the first time she’d seen this place, thinking it looked as if a god had dragged a giant plow through the ground, forcing the dirt up into mounds now hardened into rock and towering toward the sky. Low-hanging clouds brushed the mountaintops, and foggy mist clung to them.
Astrid saw the thin strip of valley below where she had found Sigurthor’s body and a monstrous footprint next to it. She remembered the bittersweet journey that discovery had started, long before she’d met Mandulane and his Krystr soldiers.
Those were the days.
Astrid walked through the valley, relishing its peacefulness and beauty. From here it wouldn’t take long to reach the port village of Gott, where she’d first met Margreet and Vinchi. She expected to find Komdra, the Iron Maidens, and her blacksmith friends in Gott or learn their location.
Astrid paused at the crack of a snapped twig behind her. Turning quickly, she saw three young dragons racing in her direction. Astrid sat down on the ground before they could knock her over. Their jaws hung open in what appeared to be grins. Astrid covered her face and laughed while their sniffing noses and yellow flicking tongues surrounded her head.
“Astrid.”
Without looking up, Astrid smiled. “Kikita!”
“Much has happened since we last spoke,” Kikita said.
Looking up, Astrid stared at the wispy outline of the Iron Maiden. “Oh, no,” Astrid said, her throat tightening into knots. “Someone killed you!”
But how could she see Kikita? Astrid hadn’t eaten night’s bane in years, making it impossible for her to see ghosts.
Unless she had inherited ghost sight and it only now came into fruition.
Unfazed, Smoke, Fire, and Slag circled Astrid for a few moments and then nestled around her feet, making it impossible for her to take a step. Astrid looked at the airy form of Kikita. “Thank you. Back in Guell, you saved my life.”
Kikita smiled and placed a foggy hand on the side of Astrid’s face. “My pleasure.” Letting go, Kikita snapped her wispy fingers at the young dragons. “Smoke! Fire! Slag! Carry on!”
With an obedience Astrid had never witnessed in the dragons until now, they jumped to their feet and trotted ahead of the women while they walked.
“What happened to you?” Astrid said. “Who killed you? Is everyone in Guell all right?”
Kikita hesitated for a moment before she answered. “I told them to take this path.”
Astrid wanted to press Kikita for answers but also wanted to respect her choosing not to answer. Astrid opted for the latter. She imagined it must be quite disconcerting to become a ghost. “Does that mean they’re alive? Will I find them in Gott?”
Kikita’s transparent figure nodded. “Everyone left Guell. By now they have carried on to another location, but you might find some of them in Gott.”
Astrid sighed in relief. The light seemed to be leading her toward Gott, and she felt anxious in the best possible way to see Trep again even though her memory of DiStephan still lingered.
“There is much ground to cover, and time is short,” Kikita said.
Remembering how much DiStephan’s ghost had helped her, Astrid wanted to stay by Kikita’s side, hoping to receive the same kind of help from the Iron Maiden’s ghost. “Gott isn’t terribly far from here. I think we can—”
“I do not speak of the journey to Gott,” Kikita said. “I speak of your journey. The reason why you are here.” Kikita appeared to keep talking, but Astrid heard nothing.
Kikita started at the lack of sound coming from her mouth, and she shook her head in frustration.
A new thought struck Astrid like a slap in the face. Suddenly flustered, she stuttered. “I panicked in Guell. I trusted Mandulane’s spy without thinking. I put all of us in danger.”
“You endangered no one.” Kikita found her voice again.
Determined to make amends, Astrid continued. “I’m sorry I left Guell without telling anyone. I thought my presence did more harm than good. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt because of my bad judgment.”
Astrid stood in silence next to the floating Kikita for a few moments. Kikita’s ghostly mouth moved but once again no words emerged. Frustrated, Kikita wrapped her hands around her throat. She acted as if something prevented her from speaking.
Kikita paused, seeming to reconsider her predicament. Finally, she succeeded in making her voice heard. “We walk upon a living being.”
Startled and confused, Astrid decided she must have misunderstood the apparition. “What?”
“Have you never wondered about the world?” Kikita said, looking relieved to be able to speak again. “Have you merely believed it to be rock and dirt beneath your feet? Or can you imagine that you walk upon the skin of something as alive and aware as you? Something that has feelings and desires, just like you.”
Perplexed by Kikita’s words, Astrid said, “I don’t understand.”
Kikita drifted to the ground, kneeling. She ran her ghostly fingers through the lush grass surrounding them in the same way Astrid wished to take apart Trep’s braids and run her fingers through his hair. “Everything,” Kikita said, “is alive.”
Astrid knelt next to her, now concerned but wanting to help the Iron Maiden. “Yes, the grass is alive.”
Kikita shot a sharp look at Astrid. “Do not stoop to condescend.”
A chill ran through Astrid, and she wondered if the Iron Maiden had heard Astrid’s thoughts. She shook her head. “I didn’t mean…”
Kikita’s expression softened. “Of course not. But you must learn. You must understand. Just like we came in order to understand. We helped you when it helped us learn, but those days have ended. They will no longer help you and your kind. Worse, they have bound my powers so I can do nothing to help.”
Kikita paused. “You must prove your worth. If the binding allows me to speak of such things, I will tell you of our journey so that you can complete your own.”
“Who came in order to understand?” Astrid asked the question even though she wasn’t sure she wan
ted to hear the answer. “Do you mean the Iron Maidens?”
Kikita let go of the grass and surrounded Astrid’s hands with the remnants of her own. “I met your grandfather late in his life, but I loved him nonetheless. He helped us. He gave us the opportunity we sought.”
A chill shook Astrid to her core. “You could not have known my grandfather,” Astrid said slowly. “You were my age when you were alive. Or younger.”
A low rumble filled the air, and the ground trembled beneath them with such a force that it made Astrid’s teeth chatter.
Kikita looked up at the sky as if someone had called her name. “Your brother will face Mandulane. His fate is in motion.”
She then embraced Astrid, and the ground became still again. “I must go,” Kikita said. “They will not let me stay any longer!”
An invisible force jerked Kikita above the ground. Raising her arms to the sky, she evaporated into a mist that swirled away with the wind.
Astrid stared at the empty space Kikita had occupied moments ago until Smoke nudged her.
A shapeshifter. That’s what Kikita is. A true shapeshifter.
Startled, Astrid looked at Smoke and then pointed at the empty space. “Kikita isn’t an Iron Maiden,” Astrid exclaimed. “She’s a dragon!”
Rising to her feet, Astrid reached up to the sky, suddenly realizing her new heart’s desire. “Take me with you! Let me fight by Drageen’s side!”
Clenching her fists, Astrid shouted, “Let me do battle! I’m a Scalding!”
For the first time in her life, Astrid had no shame in saying those words.
CHAPTER 30
Trep’s heart sank while he watched Peppa’s face pale.
She stood next to the common outdoor hearth, and a handful of Boglanders gathered next to her, all of them staring at Trep. An older woman sat nearby, cleaning the large cauldron that normally hung over the fire.
A stout man wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat walked with purpose to join Peppa’s side. His cheeks made him look like a squirrel with a mouthful of nuts.
“Dragon!” Peppa cried out again, still pointing at her brother’s pouch and the hatchling whose head dangled out of it.
Trep said, “I can explain.” With hands still gloved, he reached toward the pouch to tuck the wayward little dragon back inside.
Fully awake and ready to play, the hatchling bit lightly on one of Trep’s fingers, safe and protected by the leather he wore.
“Stop it!” Peppa screamed. She clutched the arm of the stout man. “Peat! It’s attacking my brother!”
“No attack,” Trep said. “I’m safe, Peppa.”
Trep held up both hands in protest, but the dragon’s bite was strong enough to keep it attached to his finger. When Trep held up his hands, the dragon dangled freely in the air and pawed at it with tiny, sharp claws.
The woman cleaning the cauldron let it fall to the ground and ran away, her shrieks piercing the air.
The Boglanders near Peppa stepped back, stumbling over each other.
Peppa covered her face with her hands and cried.
Peat beckoned to his companions. “Hand me a bog rake.”
Trep scooped up the hatchling with his free hand and scolded it. “You promised to behave!” Sensing the sudden silence, Trep looked up to see everyone staring at him in confused horror.
Peppa wailed. “The dragon bite is already driving him mad!”
The hatchling trembled, staring at Peppa and then leaping onto Trep’s chest, clinging to his shirt with its claws. It scampered behind Trep’s neck, wrapping its tail around his ear and burrowing its head among the man’s many braids.
Trep reached up with one hand and gave it a comforting scratch on the back. Knowing one nip could kill him, Trep reminded himself the gloves were thick enough prevent any such bite.
“Poor thing!” Trep said, wagging a free finger at the Boglanders. “Now you’ve gone and scared the little creature.”
“It’s a dragon,” Peat said, as if Trep had never heard of one before. “Its bite will kill you.” He accepted a bog rake from one of the other Boglanders and took a firm grip on it.
“Please,” Peppa pleaded. “Maybe there’s still time to save you. Let us kill the thing!”
Peat pointed the tines at Trep’s neck and took a step forward.
“No!” Trep said. “It has little teeth that can’t bite through leather.” He held up one of his gloved hands to show them. “And my duty is to protect this little one, not kill it.”
“You’re right,” Peat said to Peppa. “The poison’s already gone to his head.”
Trep pulled a dagger from beneath his belt and pointed it at Peat. “Take no more steps,” Trep said with a harsh tone.
The hatchling peered over the edge of Trep’s shoulder, raised its head, and licked his neck with its long and forked yellow tongue.
Trep squirmed. “That’s right. I won’t let no one hurt you.” With a tender touch, he lifted the hatchling and put it back inside the pouch. This time, it willingly stayed tucked inside.
“Why,” Peat said, “would any man in his right mind protect a dragon?”
Trep hesitated. He couldn’t tell anyone about Kikita or anything she had told him. He’d given his word to her to stay quiet and understood why she asked. Trep cleared his throat and decided to stick with the amount of truth that could bear the telling. “I saw the little creature hatch, so I suppose it thinks I’m its father.”
Peppa’s face fell aghast. “You don’t have the heart to kill a monster that can kill you with a single bite?”
Trep considered how to ward off his sister’s unintentionally harmful words. “Don’t it deserve a chance at life like anything else? It’s such a little thing.” Trep focused on feeling disappointed in his sister, hoping that feeling would reflect on his face. “When did you become so heartless?”
Sputtering, Peppa said, “A little dragon like yours almost killed me!”
Before he realized it, Trep found himself laughing.
Peppa pressed her lips together and crossed her arms. “You think it’s funny I was attacked?” Peppa reconsidered her words. “Almost attacked? Not long ago, one of those hideous things came to my bog and hissed at me and was about to jump into the bog water and kill me. And it would have, too, if the dragonslayer hadn’t been here!”
“Dragonslayer?” Trep held his breath.
“The Scalding girl,” Peat said, offering a comforting pat on the back to Peppa. “From Guell.”
“I live in Guell now,” Trep said. He felt his heart pound, ready to leap out of his chest. He’d never expected to see her again. Why had Astrid come to the Boglands? “Where is Astrid?”
“Gone,” Peat said. “She captured the dragon that cornered Peppa and then forged shackles to keep it in place.” Peat gestured behind his back. “It guards the gates, which you would have seen if you’d used them instead of sneaking in the back way.”
Taking a tentative step toward her brother, Peppa said, “The dragonslayer told me Guell is a beautiful place. She said the world is sometimes a terrible place and sometimes a beautiful place, and that Guell is a beautiful place, like here.”
Trep took a long look at Peppa. She stood straighter than he last remembered, and her eyes sparkled. Physically, she seemed strong and vital, but he noticed something else that had vanished years ago.
Looking in Peppa’s eyes, Trep saw a hint of mischievousness that had vanished after Peppa met the man to whom she’d once been married. That man had taken the happiness out of her, but now it looked like her true spirit had returned, something that Trep once thought impossible.
Smiling, Trep saw Astrid’s influence on his sister. Truly, the dragonslayer had been here and left her mark. “Yes, he said. “Guell is a very beautiful place.”
CHAPTER 31
A short man with bushy brown hair stood before Mandulane. Like all Krystr clerks, he wore a white smock covered by a belted brown robe.
Mandulane’s lip curled in contemp
t. Of course, the clerks were necessary. But why did they insist on adopting such a hideous style of dress? No matter how fit a man might be, that horrible smock and robe would make him look dumpy and frightful.
Although by comparison, the poorly dressed clerks make me look even more handsome and forward thinking than I already am.
Mandulane decided he would tolerate the clerk’s presence. Studying the length of his fingernails and debating on whether it might be time to bite them down, Mandulane said, “Who are you and why are you bothering me?”
“Clerk Thomas.” The man’s blue eyes watered, and he trembled in fear. “I escaped from the coasts of the Northlands. I can tell you how they prepare to defend themselves against us.”
Mandulane looked up at the clerk and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“You, rather.” The clerk hastened to correct himself. “I can tell you how they prepare to defend against you.”
Mandulane beckoned for the clerk to keep talking and then examined his own leather boots. Long in length and well broken in, they also sported scuffs that could not be fixed.
Is it better to let your enemies see battle scars on your footwear or to procure new shoes to display the perfection of your wealth and power and the inevitability that they will succumb to you?
“The eastern coast is well guarded.” Clerk Thomas’s voice sounded frightened but urgent. “Northlanders from all over the country have come to keep watch in the port towns. You could aim for uninhabited areas on that coast, but then you’d have to lead your men on a march toward the nearest town in order to conquer it. Men patrol all roads, and once they spot you, they give warning. By the time you’d reach any town, you’d be walking into a trap.”
Mandulane flexed one foot and admired the ease with which the boot leather flexed with it. Initially, he’d been enthralled by the unexpected black-and-white pattern before realizing it came from the hide of a simple country cow. Remembering that all the goods presented to him that day had come from one of the last Midlands mansions to fall to his Krystr soldiers, it made sense that the boots were a product of local livestock.
