Queen of Magic

by Susanne L. Lambdin

  “All dragons have a vulnerable spot, Taliesin, but I will not tell you where,” he said. “Tarquin knew where to find it, and had he been at Ascalon the day Vargus appeared, he would have been able to kill him. He was a prince, but he was also a well-trained knight, and that is why he was able to defeat Korax. Perhaps, had the Maeceni not convinced Dehavilyn to work her magic against both men, they might have been allies and friends.”

  “I met Korax—it’s not a particularly fond memory.”

  Bonaparte snorted. “Only women found Korax charming,” he said. “Be thankful you were related, or he would have attempted to seduce you, as he did so many other women. I happened to know him quite well, Taliesin, and he was always respectful. He relied on me to keep other dragons from molesting Black Castle, and I charged a high price. When Mira took you to the past to meet him, you caught Korax on a bad day. It was a day he never forgot, and it had a lasting effect on the Raven King. He feared sha’tars afterwards, and Zarnoc was always on the lookout for your kind. A sha’tar is quite rare, you know. Some say they have the blood of the Maeceni, but if they do, they must have drunk it, since the ancient immortals do not mingle with inferior races.”

  “Tarquin said there are nine immortals on Mt. Helos I must kill. It’s not the number of Maeceni that concerns me, but the labyrinth within the mountain. I have reviewed the Deceiver’s Map to find a way inside. I’m not so sure I want to attempt to enter the mountain from within, when all you have to do is fly me over the wall, and I can challenge Ragnal to a duel to end this war, once and for all.”

  “I have no intention of flying to the top of Mt. Helos,” Bonaparte said. “It’s what Ragnal will expect you to do, and you must be more cunning to kill him. He has already killed Stroud, the All-Father, who was considered the most powerful of the gods. Stroud did not want the Age of the Wolf to happen, and he tried to stop Ragnal, with fatal results. You must rely on the help of Talas Kull, Zarnoc, Sir Roland, Shan Octavio, and General Folando.”

  “Our topic leads us back to Nethalburg,” Taliesin said with a grin. “Where did Madera get the Moon Ring, Bonaparte?”

  The dragon sighed. “Heggen gave it to Madera,” he said. “At one time, Heggen considered marrying Madera, but Ragnal convinced him to end the relationship and let her marry Korax instead. You have always wondered why Korax did not love Madera, or why she did not love him; now you know the reason.”

  Taliesin nodded. “I never thought it was because of the god of the underworld. I have seen Heggen, and he is an ugly old man with an ugly, old raven.”

  “Not so,” he replied. “Heggen is far better-looking than Ragnal, and long ago he loved Mira. It is a sad tale, and I’d rather not tell it to you. So is the story of Heggen and Madera, for it is the only time a Maeceni ever loved a fairy. Madera was not always a Hellirin, you know, nor was her brother, Folando, born a darkling; no Hellirin is born a darkling. I too loved Madera, but that was before she met Heggen, and long before she married Korax.”

  “I have to know what happened.”

  Bonaparte sighed. “I will tell you what you need to know and only that,” he said. “Akyres and Korax were once best friends. They often went hunting together, and one day they came across a darkling boar and chased it into a cave. Korax told Akyres not to go into the cave, but the general was very brave and very reckless. Akyres would have gone with Korax to Caladonia had he listened to the prince, but he feared nothing. Korax heard a fight and waited for Akyres to reappear. When he did, he was a darkling; the boar had tusked Akyres before he killed it. He gave the tusks to Korax, said farewell to his sister and parents, and went to Nethalburg. His mother’s heart was broken when she found out her son was undead, so she went after him, never to be seen alive again.”

  “Won’t you tell me how you met Madera?” Taliesin asked. She could tell the story had upset Bonaparte. Prying seemed rude, but the past interested her more than she cared to admit, especially when it concerned her ancestors.

  “A few days after this occurred, I heard a girl crying in No Man’s Forest as I flew past. I found Madera seated on a rock, crying about her brother. She was beautiful, so beautiful I immediately fell in love. The girl had taken one of the tusks, still covered with dried darkling blood, from Korax’s room, and intended to kill herself so she could join Akyres and her mother. I appeared as you see me now and tried to convince her not to take her own life. I met Madera in the same place for the next seven nights and fooled myself into thinking she loved me as much as I loved her. Her kiss was tender like her heart, and I thought I had found a woman worthy of my love. When I returned the eighth night, I found her lying dead in the forest, the tusk stabbed through her heart, and when I held her in my arms and pulled it free, she opened her eyes….”

  “A darkling.”

  “Yes, a darkling. I took her to the gates of Nethalburg, left her there, and vowed never to return. Less than five months later, I again heard Madera crying in the forest. When I flew down to speak with her, she told me she had fallen in love with Heggen, whom she had met along the shores of the Shadow River. Heggen had stopped visiting Nethalburg, leaving only a farewell note, and I knew her heart was broken. She had truly loved the Maeceni god, and I hated him for hurting her, but what could I do? Madera wanted me to kill her, to give her the ‘final death’ as the Hellirins call it that ends their lives forever, but I couldn’t do it. Instead, I convinced her to marry Korax, who had already sent a message to Akyres to ask for her hand in marriage. Akyres took his sister to Black Castle, and there was a beautiful wedding under the ancient oak tree in Tannenberg Forest. The truce between Nethalburg and Caladonia was sealed, and nine months later, Madera gave Korax a fine, healthy son. I rather think the story should end there, don’t you?”

  “We both know there wasn’t a happy ending. It was a political marriage,” Taliesin said. “I also know it was during the wedding Akyres and Dolabra formed a plan to run away together. She took her own life to be with Akyres and return with him to Nethalburg.”

  “Yes, she did,” Bonaparte replied. “Let us change the subject and discuss Sir Roland Brisbane, for at this very moment, he sits in an ice-cell beneath Mt. Helos. Your friends are in the cells next to him, while Zarnoc is questioned by Broa and Navenna; the goddesses are just as interested in you as you are in them, and they know you are coming.”

  “Will General Folando help us? Is it worth asking for his help? He might have been a good man in the past, but he is now a darkling, and is as capricious as the rest of his kind. I have already fought him once and found him wanting.”

  “Yes, I know. But you did not personally fight Akyres Folando. If you think Ragnal is a fierce opponent, then you should know the general is his equal.”

  “Folando is that good in battle?”

  Bonaparte smiled widely. “An excellent swordsman,” he said. “Akyres has served his queen all these centuries, Taliesin, and has never been wounded in battle.” He crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair. “I suggest you send Talas Kull to Mt. Helos, while we pay a visit to the Hellirins.”

  “You two must be mad!” Kull said, rising onto an elbow. “I heard everything you said. If King Boran hears you asked General Folando to help, he will be offended, and then Dehavilyn will be offended. If the Hellirins agree to fight for you, the Lorians will want to do the same, but you must ask them as well. You can’t ask one and not the other, or they’ll simply go to war against each other.”

  “If you can rise, barbarian, then join us.”

  “I think we have a plan,” Kull said as he climbed off the bed and joined them at the table. A beefy hand was thrust outward. Taliesin stood, a smile on her face, placed her hand over Kull’s, and waited only a moment before Bonaparte stood and did the same. The dragon-man wore a jeweled ring on every finger, and Kull stared at a large diamond one.

  “Any time you want to part with some of your treasure, dragon, I will be glad to take if off your hands,” Kull said. “One of those rings would be nice, f
or I may have need of it as a wedding ring one day soon.” He did not explain, but Taliesin suspected the ring was for Margery, whomever she was, in case she proposed. “Offer half your treasure to the queens, and I’m sure they’ll see things your way.”

  “Only half,” Bonaparte growled. “The rest is for Taliesin, for when I leave this realm, I intend to give her this castle and all it contains.”

  Taliesin, overwhelmed by his generosity, was certain Tarquin and Valkyri would approve, for in a way, the castle did belong to her through inheritance. The treasure, horded by the gold dragon, was his to give to whomever he wanted. He owed her nothing, yet gave her more than she felt she deserved. As their eyes locked, she understood Bonaparte’s motives; she had listened to his sad story, the ultimate compliment to a dragon, and he meant to repay the debt.

  * * *

  The sun hung low in the sky as Taliesin, in her armor and her sword on her back, followed Kull and Bonaparte outside. The disorganized Skardans stood and watched the trio walk to an open area among the ruins. The fierce, young woman who had brought them drink now wore blue war paint on her cheeks and glared with open hostility at Taliesin. Kull merely glanced at the woman and chuckled, and Taliesin realized this was Margery, her jealously as plain on her face as the war paint. She did not want a fight, but feared one was imminent when Kull presented her with a cloak made from raven feathers; Margery looked ready to fight for the king’s love.

  “Thank you,” Taliesin said. “Now we must be off. We’ll meet you as soon as we can, Kull. Hopefully, we’ll bring the Hellirins and the Lorians with us.”

  “I expect nothing less,” the king said. “I think the cloak a fair exchange for the weapons you left with me, Taliesin. I’ll give them only to my best warriors, and that includes Margery.”

  Bonaparte slid the diamond ring off his finger and handed it to Kull, with a gleam in his eyes and nodded toward the female warrior. With a quick move, Taliesin linked her arm through Bonaparte’s, hoping Margery would notice and no longer think she needed to challenge her to a fight. Her attempt to present herself as the dragon’s woman did much to relax the tension in the warrior woman’s face, and she suddenly smiled. Kull noticed and laughed even harder.

  “It should take us three days at a hard march to reach Mt. Helos,” Kull said, “weather permitting. Folando and Boran can reach the mountain in less time since they are magic users.”

  “We’ll see you in three days,” Taliesin said. “Take care, cousin.”

  In an instant, Bonaparte transformed into an immense gold dragon, with his wings pressed against his sides. His body took up the majority of the space in the courtyard, but he carefully moved his tail to avoid contact with a tower balancing on three stones at its base. After he lowered his head, Taliesin jumped onto his snout and walked along his neck until she reached his shoulders. Razor-sharp ridges ran along the dragon’s spine, forcing Taliesin to straddle his neck above his shoulders. No sooner had she situated herself, then her scale armor merged with the dragon’s skin, fusing together like a patchwork quilt. Bonaparte lifted his head, blasted the sky with a ball of fire, and black smoke rolled from his nostrils as he showed off for the crowd.

  “Don’t get lost on the way to Mt. Helos, little barbarian,” Bonaparte said with a smile. Two rows of pointed, white teeth sparkled. He pointed with a front talon. “Mt. Helos is five hundred leagues, due east, and it is very big—you can’t miss it.”

  Kull laughed. “The extinct volcano the palace sits upon is in my kingdom,” he said. “I think I know the way, you old reptile. Allow me to offer you direction as well. The entrance to Nethalburg is two hundred miles, due north. Look for a cave in the middle of No Man’s Forest, what the Hellirins call the ‘Dark Wood,’ and there you will find the entrance. Be careful, for no one returns from that place alive, and Dolabra might consider you an overgrown lizard and keep you as a pet!”

  “Ho, ho,” Bonaparte said, chortling. “Broa may see your filthy furs and decide you’re a rat and put you in a cage, little man.”

  Their friendship was genuine, and Taliesin laughed along with the Skardans. She lowered the visor of her winged helmet as Bonaparte lumbered toward the cliff.

  “Taliesin,” cried a strong, male voice.

  She turned and saw the ghosts of Prince Tarquin and his warrior princess standing near the tower, and both waved to Taliesin and Bonaparte, the only two who were able to see the royal couple. The Skardans knelt, heads lowered, and prepared for the gust of wind created by Bonaparte’s wings. The dragon paused at the edge of the cliff, then dove over the side, spread his wings, and soared upwards, striking the Skardans with a heavy downdraft as he sailed upwards.

  Bonaparte circled over the castle, then turned hard left, caught an updraft, and headed north. He soared above a line of craggy mountains capped with snow, which Taliesin had seen when she rode Thalagar. Her horse had flown her to and from Duvalen, and though she’d vowed never to return, much as Bonaparte had done centuries ago, she was heading back to the Magic Realms. They had decided to visit the Hellirins first, but she knew it would take more than a dragon to convince the ancient fairy races to fight the gods of Mt. Helos. What could she say to Madera to convince her to speak on her behalf to Dolabra and Folando? The Moon Ring had been hers, but she’d given it away, and feared Madera would take offense. If that happened, Madera might ask Dolabra to toss Taliesin into a dungeon, and as Kull had said, there was no returning from Nethalburg alive.

  There was no sense worrying about Dehavilyn and Boran, not until she had the Hellirins on her side. She needed to build her confidence before focusing on questions and events that had not yet unfolded. Now she understood why Zarnoc had wanted her to take Jaelle to the Hellirins. He had foreseen the future and known Taliesin would need the Moon Ring to make the Hellirins do her bidding. By being charitable and caring for Jaelle, she’d caused more trouble than she needed to, and now she had to rely on Bonaparte’s influence with the Hellirins and Lorians. The dragon had known both races for centuries, and she needed his assistance if her plan was going to work; without his help, and that of the Magic Realms, she had no chance of freeing Zarnoc, Roland, and her friends, or of killing the ancient Maeceni.

  There were countless legends, plays, and ballads written about fairy-folk, the Raven King, and dragons, but none ever mentioned a warrior or sha’tar in the same line; they were always separate, two people, not one like her. Yet here she was, a unique individual, riding a dragon into battle. It was an exciting moment. The dragon believed in her, and for some reason, that made it easier for her to believe in herself. More than ever before, she felt like she was doing something vital to win the war against Ragnal. It was Ragnal’s war, and she wondered if Korax Sanqualus would have been proud of her. She knew Tarquin Draconus was, but it seemed odd to gain a ghost’s approval. She wished Tarquin had taken her to see Korax, so the three of them could have spoken about a great many things, but she had a feeling lingering there might have ended her life in the mortal world. Tarquin would never have done anything to harm her, although she couldn’t say the same about Korax, especially since she’d fought him in his zombie-state in the Cave of the Snake God, where he’d been even less charming than he had been at Black Castle.

  The dragon wasn’t the only one who took an interest in Taliesin. Flocks of snow birds flew out of the forests to trail behind the dragon. Some were a type of wren with long, exaggerated bodies and slender gold beaks, while others had feathers colored bright blue and silver that resembled icicles and honked like geese. A procession of animals appeared on the ground—a mixture of smaller woodland creatures, bears, wolves, and snow leopards—which were wonderful to see in motion.

  Bonaparte dipped low so Taliesin could take a closer look as they flew across Lorian territory. She saw fawns with the upper bodies of men standing on two legs and giant stags with silver antlers led by tiny warrior elves on the backs of owls. Polar bears, darkling dragons no larger than horses, centaurs wearing brightly color
ed cloaks, and even a few shaggy unicorns with gold horns filtered out of the trees and ran beneath them until their numbers grew into an army. Many of the ordinary animals fell back as the dragon flew further north, and the entire procession came to a sudden halt when they reached the outskirts of a tangled growth of tall, dark trees.

  “This is No Man’s Forest,” Bonaparte rumbled. “Hellirin country.”

  Shadows lay thick among the miles of tall pines, ancient oaks, and bushes. A layer of snow-covered tree boughs and glistened under a waning sun. Taliesin shivered within her dragon armor, and her wolf fur sprouted rapidly, providing a nice cushion against her armor and helping to keep her warm, although it was also a reminder she was no longer human. The dragon flew lower. An eerie silence was broken by the single howl of a wolf that echoed through the Dark Wood; a clear warning the Wolf Clan was on the hunt. The dragon knew his way, and his speed increased. With a swat, his wings brushed against the tops of the trees and sent snow tumbling to the ground. Taliesin spotted a new assortment of magical creatures, things that feared the light and waited for the sun to vanish behind the Stavehorn Mountains. Goblins—squat creatures with long noses—clung to the upper tree branches and shook their gnarled fists. Winter buzzards, with white feathers stained red from blood, followed the dragon to a clearing deep within the Dark Wood.

  Taliesin saw sharp-teethed squirrels and snow leopards with slender tusks gathered at the tree line as Bonaparte landed in the snow. The impact shook the tree limbs, and snow plopped from the branches to the ground. A cloud of fine snow lifted into the air and sprinkled across Taliesin’s armor, and a loud horn blast penetrated her winged helmet. She turned and saw figures shivering in the trees as Hellirin scouts entered the clearing.

  A loud voice called out, “Halt!”

  An officer in a black-plumed helmet stepped forward. His soldiers, dressed in thick, tree bark armor with giant acorn helmets on their heads, flanked him. They all had pale, gaunt faces and iridescent eyes, with pupils in various shades of purple. Their lips were also a light shade of purple, and they seemed only able to frown. Taliesin recognized the discolored lips and dark circles beneath their eerie eyes as the trademark of the Hellirins, proof they were not fully alive or dead, but something in between. The soldiers carried rectangular, wooden shields carved with the faces of the dead, and long spears with purple ribbons braided with black feathers, gold nuggets, diamonds, and tiny skulls. She found the officer quite impressive, for he stood a few inches taller than his soldiers, and possessed a ruggedly square jaw; in life, he had probably been quite handsome. With a swift move, the officer drew a jagged-edged sword off his back and pointed it at Bonaparte.