Dragons of Siberia (The Dashkova Memoirs Book 7)

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Dragons of Siberia (The Dashkova Memoirs Book 7) Page 6

by Thomas K. Carpenter


  The men and women were mostly quiet. I wished I could have turned my head to see their faces, but it took all my strength not to fall to the ground. At one point, they laughed at something the khan said, an insult directed at me, perhaps, but the lack of shared language saved me from the details.

  Then I felt Anton's cold eyes upon me. I looked up and met his predator's gaze.

  "Our shaman says you speak passable Russian, Yeka," he said in fluent Russian—his family had come from the region around Moscow.

  "Enough not to embarrass myself," I said in Russian, then switched to Finnish, French, and English for a few phrases. Ana had said that we had to convince him to save me, so I decided I must show my value, or at least my potential excellence.

  His eyebrow rose.

  "You are a learned woman," he said, though it was said as an insult. I realized my mistake. Only the nobility would have time to learn multiple languages.

  "A traveler. My father was a merchant," I said, trying to hold back the shivering. My head was burning hot, though I felt as cold as ice. I fought the delirium to stay conscious.

  "And now you hunt the Eaters?" he asked. "Tell me how a merchant's daughter comes to have knowledge of these beings?"

  I blinked, caught without a story to explain my lie.

  "My companion taught me. The one with the rest of our traveling party," I said, trying to sound like we weren't prisoners. "She comes from the places that the Eaters come from."

  Anton leaned back in his chair, appraising me in a new light.

  "I am looking forward to meeting this companion of yours," he said. "It seems our shaman brought the wrong one. The one before us is just an apprentice. A whelp."

  "We are a team," I said, trying to stand straight, but failing. Ana held me up, but my weakness had been noticed by the room, and derisive laughter followed.

  "Anton," said Ana. "We need all the allies we can find. Our situation is perilous."

  "Koryak says they are spies and that we should kill them," said Anton with a lazy drawl.

  Koryak straightened, a pretentious smirk appearing on his lips.

  "Koryak is right to suspect," said Ana. "But now is not the time to be cautious. Let us welcome them in our arms."

  "You would risk everyone to a pair of hunters that you easily caught?" asked Anton. "How can they help us? We can't even feed them."

  "We have magic," I said.

  "Which you cannot use or reveal our location to the wolves of shadow," said Anton dismissively, as if I were a child asking a foolish question.

  My legs gave out, and Ana could no longer hold me up. I fell onto my knees, my hands impacting the wooden floor, sending bolts of agony up my arms. I blacked out for a moment, and woke to laughter.

  Ana helped me onto my knees. I was shivering and damp with sweat. I wasn't sure if I would wake again should I pass out.

  "She is as weak as a child. Why should we expend our resources on this young woman?" he asked.

  In a fit of desperation, I muttered, "I have the power of prophecy."

  Anton sat up so quickly that the whole room went silent. Even Ana looked upon me with renewed interest.

  "Prophecy?" asked Anton. "If this were true, it would be a valuable thing. Can you offer me some nuggets of the future? Something that might help in our struggles?"

  I closed my eyes and tried to access the ball of prophecy in my head, but it was dormant. No, not now. The damn thing tended to give me visions when I least wanted them, and now that I desired it, it stayed unresponsive.

  I thought about saying something cryptic and hoping that it would pass as prophecy, but my delirium made my thoughts sluggish. He would know it as a lie as soon as the words slipped my lips.

  "Apologies, I am ill. Such things take effort that I cannot expend," I said.

  Anton growled out his response. "You only say this to convince me to save you. I do not take kindly to liars. I do not wish her in my sight any longer. Take her away and cut her throat."

  He spoke to his guards in their language. A couple of them started moving towards me. I was too weak to protest.

  Ana spoke harshly at the khan, almost screaming at him. As the men grabbed my arms to drag me out of the room, I realized what I needed to say to save my life.

  "You are right," I said, speaking as loud as I could muster. "I am not a merchant's daughter. But I am a traveler and I have killed the Eaters. I've even been to their realm and sampled from their library."

  The khan motioned for the guards to stop taking me away. He sensed something important about to transpire and leaned forward in his chair, brow hunched.

  "But more importantly, I know you, Anton Shcherbinin, and you know me. I am Anastasia's mother, Princess Katerina Dashkova, the woman who sent you away."

  Chapter Eleven

  The irony that I had to reveal myself to him that I might be saved was not lost on me, even in my delirious state. But I had chosen my words purposely.

  I had not sent Anton away, per say, as I had not the power. But I had revealed to him the possibility that his life was mine to take through my political connections; since I was the close confidant of the empress, my whispers were perilous.

  Like most Russian officers, Anton was hotheaded and pride-filled, and thought more with his heart than his mind. I had brought my friend from England, Catherine Wilmot, to experience Russia and to meet the other Catherine of my life, the empress.

  Anton had taken offense to my English friend's presence at a gathering of important Russians. He saw her as an interloper, a stain on the Russian monarchy, and had spoken harshly, going so far as to suggest that if she wanted to be Russian so badly, she would have to be buried here.

  I was so furious and rage-filled that I had my friend Colonel Petrov speak to Anton later that evening, suggesting that the empress was mightily displeased for insulting her guest and that being stripped of his rank would be the least of his worries.

  It was a very Russian thing to do. Court was rife with intrigue, danger at every turn, whispers and innuendo the tools of the trade. Anton was too young to know that I was getting the only revenge that I could, by putting him at unease. No matter that he was my daughter's husband. Ana and I were not getting along as it were, and hearing Anton's insult had pushed me over the edge. But Anton and Ana fled Moscow the next morning, turning my brief revenge into ashes.

  With age came the wisdom to understand my mistake and to appreciate the irony of the present.

  "Princess Katerina," said Anton in a way that would have made Djata jealous. "I see it now. Your youthful complexion had me confused. Koryak had said you were a cousin. I had hoped to bring out the truth in my declaration. I was not expecting this reveal."

  The whole room sensed the sudden change. The woman at Anton's side had been a bored participant before, but now she watched with pursed lips.

  Koryak, who spoke Russian, had wide eyes, but kept the rest of his feelings behind a blank face. He might be a danger later, even if Anton decided not to kill me.

  "This is an example of the magic I enjoy," I said.

  His eyebrow rose. "The secret of immortality. That is a bargain I am willing to strike." He paused, a wolfish grin on his lips. "Even with the likes of you."

  "Then it is settled," I said, hope blossoming as my voice trembled. "Heal me before this fire in my chest consumes me."

  He chuckled, his baritone voice carrying through the hall. The other soldiers laughed with him, though they didn't understand his mirth. Koryak's black lips were flat.

  "Give me the secret, and I will heal you," said Anton.

  "I cannot," I said, my strength fading. "Not at this time."

  "How do I know you'll honor your end of the bargain?" he asked.

  "Because you and I are on the same side. I am not shading the truth when I say that we hunt the Eaters. I sense that you oppose the forces that have overtaken Russia. I have returned to set things right, to send them back to their realms," I croaked out.

  I l
eft out that it was not Russia I was protecting, but America and the West. Anton scowled with annoyance.

  "You ruined my life, Princess," he said. "I was a rising star. I had performed admirably at my posts and would soon be rewarded. You took that from me."

  A rivulet of sweat ran into my eye, but I did not wipe it away or show weakness. "If you had stayed in Moscow, then you would have been killed when these beings from Otherland invaded."

  "Perhaps," he said cryptically.

  Did that mean he would have joined the winning side? Or was he arrogant enough to believe he could have turned the tide? As the khan of the Yaran people, he would be opposed to the Otherlanders, but as an officer he could have acted more in line with his ambitions.

  This made the next step difficult. I could not fail.

  "Then what do you desire of me? I offer immortality, prophecy, and my powers. Save my life and I am your servant," I said.

  His lips twitched at the word servant.

  "Very well," he said. "You offer me your service and I accept. Send her to the Great One. If he chooses to save her, then I will put her to use."

  As Ana helped me leave the room, Anton spoke in the Yaran language. The sly looks and appraising stares made me wonder if I had been saved at all.

  "Who is this Great One?" I asked hoarsely.

  "Save your strength, Mother. You'll see soon enough," she said.

  The wavering tone of her voice told me what the stares had said: I was not out of danger yet.

  Chapter Twelve

  Flanked by two of her guards, Ana brought me to a cavern on the far side of the village. My arm throbbed with each bump and jostle across the uneven rock as they pushed me in the cart.

  Once the passage narrowed, they helped me to my shaky feet. Ana put her arm under my shoulder and dismissed the men. Before they left, they glanced into the darkness, an expression of reverence on their faces.

  "Why are they taking the cart?" I asked.

  "Either you'll walk out on your own two feet or you won't walk out at all," said Ana.

  "Not shading it, are you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, but echoing in the dark space.

  The cavern sloped upward, making it difficult to traverse. I caught the scent of loamy earth ahead. It reminded me of Matka's realm, but more potent.

  "You taught me to be truthful to oneself. I did not think you wanted lies," said Ana.

  "Why are you being kind to me after what I did to you and Anton so many years ago?" I asked.

  "Had you arrived even five years ago, I would have cut your throat myself. But time and circumstances change, and so does our understanding of the world," she said as we paused, mostly for Ana to gather her strength, since she was practically carrying me.

  "He set you aside for that other woman," I said.

  Ana tensed up beneath me. "Senyana. She gave a child."

  "No grandchildren?"

  After the words left my lips, I felt the villain. There was selfish need in the way I asked it. With Pavel bound to Neva, Ana was my only chance.

  "I cannot," she said.

  The passage narrowed further, until it was only four meters across. A faint luminescence came from ahead. The earthy smell was cloying in its intensity, like rotting cinnamon. The walls looked like they'd been clawed out of the earth.

  Then the way descended, making it easier on Ana, but harder on me. The rock was slick with moisture, and my feet wanted to slip out from under me.

  Ana stopped at a set of steps that had been hewn out of the stone. I sensed a presence in the deep dim beyond my sight.

  "You must go alone," she said. "I cannot take you."

  "What happens when I get there?" I asked, my gaze fixed on the treacherous path ahead.

  "Our tribe is bound to the earth. My title yanyani tadibya means earth shaman. The Great One is our patron, the one who gives us strength, the one who helped us create Ice Lake so we might hide from the Nenet, the sky people, our enemies," she said.

  "The patron of the Nenet is the cloud dragon?" I asked.

  She nodded.

  I continued, "The Great One is an earth dragon?"

  She nodded again.

  My earlier desire to see a dragon in its majesty seemed foolish in retrospect.

  Ana hugged me stiffly and kissed both cheeks. Her downcast gaze told me how likely it was that I would walk out of the cave.

  But what choice did I have? Forward. Always forward.

  Though the slope was slight enough a child could have skipped down it, in my weakened state I feared I would take a tumble and perish before this great wyrm could heal me.

  On my hands and knees, I backed down the stairs, shivering despite the warm air. I used my right hand only, since my left throbbed with increasing frequency. Even the slightest bumps were an agony.

  The stairs went much longer than I would have liked. I kept hoping to reach the bottom, but they kept going. I had to stop at one point and rest, my face pressed against the cool black stone. Finally, I realized that if I didn't get up then, I'd never get up.

  With my reserves nearly empty, I backed down the last few steps, coming to rest on uneven ground. The thick stench of earth made me gag. It was like breathing in potting soil. I could almost taste the grit in the back of my throat.

  I felt the rumble of the beast in my chest. Even facing away from it, I could sense its immense size somewhere in that nightmarish darkness.

  "Child," it said, its voice echoing through my mind.

  Hearing it made me feel like an insect beside a mountain. The label it'd given me, child, was generous.

  With great trepidation, I rolled over onto my rear. The slap of my hand against the earth and the resulting echo sketched out the vastness of the cavern.

  Out of the gloom came a presence, like the shadow of a cloud moving across the landscape. The dim luminescence from the walls reflected on the beast, and I shuddered with both ecstasy and horror.

  What a tiny insignificant thing was I. What a blind grub upon the surface of the earth.

  I shook, not with sickness, but joyous adoration.

  How could I ask this creature to save me? Would a bug ask an elephant for help?

  "What does it want?" asked the earth dragon.

  Stunned by its presence, I stammered to speak. Only after I mistakenly knocked my dead fingers against my leg, sending bolts of agony up my arm and breaking the spell it had cast on me, was I able to form words.

  "Oh, Great One," I said with trembling lips. "I beg of you the favor of healing."

  A low rumble formed in the beast's belly, somewhere far to the left. It traveled forward like an oncoming train, until the voice spoke in my head again.

  "Open your mind," it said.

  "I..." was all I got out before it invaded. I had planned to refuse, worried about the prophecies and the magic in my head, but it demolished my defenses like a giant knocking over a leaf.

  Why didn't this magnificent creature rule the earth?

  Further thoughts were obliterated by the creature's presence. I was squeezed to the edge, barely a participant in my own head. If it touched the prophecies, or looked through my thoughts, or planted suggestions deep inside my mind, I would never know.

  I found myself on my knees prostrate before it when I came to. I'd hoped that it would heal me, but my hands were still in pain.

  "Can you heal me?" I asked.

  The earth dragon surged forward. I thought I would be crushed, like a sapling before an avalanche. The beast moved so close I could see the tall scaled ridge of its huge nose, nostrils like smoky caves.

  "Vanquish my enemy," it said.

  "But how can I...?" I started to ask.

  "Promise," it said, and I knew that it would hold me to it.

  With my health failing, I thought I had little choice, but then the dragon entered my mind again, this time not so overwhelming. I didn't know if it was the dragon's presence or my prophecy, but I could see potential futures unfold. I would survive t
he injury to my hands without dying. I would lose my left arm, and half my fingers on my right, but I would be alive. I did not have to take its offer, only lie down and rest.

  But if I accepted the earth dragon's challenge, I would be under a geas to perform its task. Leaving me to either kill the dragon or die trying.

  How could I kill a dragon? Even if the sky dragon was half this one's size, it was impossible.

  But losing my arm and half my hand seemed worse.

  It didn't take me long to decide. Forward. Always forward.

  "I accept," I said.

  I expected the earth dragon to speak again. To give me advice or information that might help me in my task. I thought it might even breath some healing mist upon me that would save my hands from their damage. Or maybe fade back into the darkness to move through the unseen places beneath the earth.

  Instead, it did the one thing I least expected.

  It ate me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Anastasia told me she found me wandering the far side of the waterless lake, naked and mumbling. She said I'd glowed, as if a faint light had been hidden beneath my skin.

  My fever was gone, along with the pain in both arms. The only evidence of the frostbite was that the two middle fingers on my left hand had been shortened to the top knuckle and covered with new, pink flesh. It was a fair bargain, or at least it felt that way in the safe confines of Ice Lake village. Time would reveal the truth of my expectations.

  Ana had waited for over ten hours. She'd worried that the Great One had eaten me.

  I did not tell her that part had been true. But I didn't know what happened afterwards. Had I passed through its system, then wandered through the passages and uninhabited places? Had the dragon's stomach acid digested my clothes off my body but left me whole?

  I had no answers that satisfied Ana, or myself. We received many odd glances from villagers when we returned on foot, me wrapped in a cloak.

  Ana brought me to a small cottage for residence. The soldier who had owned it before had perished during a hunting expedition. I noticed other such empty buildings, which told me their situation was worse than either she or Anton let on.

 

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