A Dragon’s Witch

by Tina Glasneck

  It always happened after a good summoning: libido went on overdrive.

  Shucks.

  I fanned my face, wishing only for a cool breeze.

  “No matter what you may think of me, dear Lady Abele, I assure you that my intentions for this community are honorable.”

  “I’ve not seen you do one honorable thing.”

  His friendly face changed as he gritted his teeth, with the knot in his jaw pulsating. “What do you know of honor?”

  “I know that you don’t go around shutting people away.”

  “Who have I done that to?”

  “To me, if you will let me return to my family, I’m sure that I can make this all right.”

  “No, you are here to repay their debt.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Leif

  Back in Keel, life was not as Leif remembered. The castle was bustling with domestic activity.

  Instead of a cold or dark interior, the prior stone walls included a wood framing, covered with cloth tapestries, and a great roaring fire burned in the fireplace. It was akin to what he’d gotten used to back in the twenty-first century, not being cold.

  Since he’d been gone, it seemed like the castle had been renovated and improved with architecture that could help them all thrive for sure. Even now, there wasn’t a stench of animal or human waste, but rather, the pleasant aroma of peppermint-spiced air.

  It looked like the thinning of the veil brought with it some great health advantages for all.

  If these walls could talk, they would remind him of the hours of playing chase with his brother, Erich, or dodging and ducking away from the wet nurses and maids as they sought to tame them.

  How could they do such with two rambunctious boys who sought only exploration?

  Memories even of his mother’s warm smile and the scent of geranium wafted in the air. For a moment he’d wished to have arrived a little bit earlier, to catch another glimpse of her.

  His heart hurt.

  It was the most unmanly thing to contemplate, but over the years he’d learned that masculinity had nothing to do with shutting off his emotions. He could still feel, and should still feel. His mother had been a bright light, and back here, and now, he knew that she could give him the advice he so needed. He would not marry another. He would not seek an alliance that broke him.

  If immortality taught him anything, it was that life was worth sharing with those where love existed.

  Leif took in the surroundings, and he’d expected his father’s frail figure to be in a bed loaded with comforters surrounded by the day’s quack doctors with their leeches and poisonous treatments, but instead his father was fit as a strong bull. His barrel chest stuck out, his eyebrows lowered in dismay, and his voice deep. Leif listened in as his father spoke to one who he could not see.

  “Father, you requested my presence,” Leif said and pulled back his shoulders, no slouching. He stomped down all of the emotion of seeing his father once again there, fit. Everything he’d learned about being a man had come from him: how to hunt, how to be honorable. Without his father, life hadn’t been as rewarding. “I will not marry one who you have chosen.”

  “Excuse me, Lord Narfi.” His father rose from his high-backed seat and headed toward him, a broad grin on his bearded face. “Son!” His voice then was filled with utter glee. “Oh, Erich is once again stirring things up. Worry not, that of your betrothal went unanswered long ago. It is difficult to plan an engagement when the groom is unable to be found.”

  There was no animosity in those words, but Leif noticed his father’s lips thin out.

  Leif bowed. “My king.”

  “No need for such pomp—no, come. I have much to explain to you, and not of any such vow, but something more important. But first.” His father wrapped him in a tight bear hug. “Oh, I have missed and worried about you.” He took Leif’s face between his rough palms. “You simply disappeared.”

  His father had never been one to be overwhelmed with emotion. What was it that made him show it now?

  “I was trying to find myself,” Leif stammered.

  “As we all have had to do, but your kingdom needs you now, as the dragon will do everything to annihilate our allies, villages, and people.”

  Leif frowned. “The dragon? I thought he was there to help.”

  “Oh, I take it Erich told you the lie that he was only to utter. We’d been tracking all over the country for you, and couldn’t risk our enemy knowing the truth—we must find a way to relieve him of power. I was conversing with Lord Narfi about his wolves and how they can be of assistance.”

  “We are allied with them?”

  “Yes, in fact, you should sit in so that you, too, can hear all of this.”

  King Frederick turned, and together they headed back to where Lord Narfi waited, and this time Leif got a grand look.

  Narfi could only be described as a humanized wolf. He had a long muzzle, sharp canine teeth, and was draped in a purple sash. His grey-wolf-like appearance made Leif blanch. He was as large as a man, more muscular, fit, and a great asset to any army.

  “You need not be afraid of me, Prince Leif. I’m aware that my appearance is unusual, but many of us are different in this world.”

  “Are you unable to fully shift into human form?” Leif asked. He took a seat and wondered how they could trust this wolf-like creature when he was capable of besting the greatest of humans in a battle.

  Lord Narfi shook his head, his grayish fur shaking. “You need not worry about my allegiance, dear Prince, as my people are in desperate need of your king’s assistance, and his kindness has allowed us to adjust to being in this realm.” The wolf then coughed, a hacking cough whereby congestion rattled in his chest.

  “The lupines have brought with them many improvements where even our people no longer suffer from simple illnesses. They helped us renovate, even improve sanitation. Who knew that the filthy mud was making us fall ill? Since their arrival, there are no rats.” King Frederick inhaled. “The peppermint. Rats hate it.”

  “You see, the king has also offered us the medicine we need. The dragon and his men continue to poison our wells, and many in my clan have perished at their hands. What is worse is, he then pelts those that he kills, and while wearing our skins, travels up along the coast to pillage and plunder under the guise of night. Those who survive claim that we are monsters, and then ally themselves to his cause based on fear mongering. My people wish only to live in peace.”

  “What does the dragon seek to win by doing such?” King Frederick interjected.

  “It is simple. Fear causes men to act irrationally. The dragon is performing fear theatrics for the people, causing a problem to then solve it.”

  Leif recognized it for what it was. By creating the assertion that the wolves would bring sure death, the dragon was pulling more resources to his side. Fear would inspire action, cause men to give even the things they couldn’t afford to ward off an invasion that wasn’t even coming.

  “What will the dragon do?”

  “Son, Budapest is not the first place that the dragon has destroyed. We’ve had scouts out and finally received word from Pomerania that the same was done in Nyborg. What he does is claim the riches for himself, enslave the people unless they pay, and when they cannot pay, he takes their daughters as payment to then sacrifice them. Their death ensures that everyone stays in line. Then he stays until the wealth is gone to find another place to destroy, and other people to encase in fear of monsters.

  “Usually, he requires a ball to celebrate his arrival, where he can get a good look at all of those in his care, and then he finds the ones he wishes to pluck. None of our sources could say what leads up to the sacrificial ceremony, as the woman is held captive.”

  “What if he chooses two or more women?”

  “That is only to make the stronger of the two submit. He only wants the strongest.”

  A shiver coursed through Leif. He’d seen both Tink and her sister chosen. No,
he wasn’t going to let her die! He shot up from his seat.

  “Father, I must take leave.”

  “But son, you’ve just arrived.”

  “Yes, but the woman most recently chosen is of utter importance to me. I will not let her perish.”

  “Your Highness, my men are prepared to march forth, if you wish for us to.”

  King Frederick shook his head and clamped his hand down on Leif’s shoulder forcing him back into his seat. “No, we will not rush in, but instead plan our attack. It is best to head into war with a cool head and fiery heart. Allow that anger to spur you forward, but never to cloud your judgment.” King Frederick turned away to his steward. “Send in Erich. It appears it is time for the legendary ‘Black Knight’ to once again rise to such an occasion. There’s also something else that we must discuss—that of your vampirism.

  He scowled. He’d lived with his condition for centuries. There was nothing that could undo it. “I am as I am. And I wouldn’t change a thing about it.”

  “What if I told you, dear son, that there is a cure for your sanguine condition?”

  Leif’s ears perked up. In all his many years, he’d heard of the legends of a cure. So far, he’d heard of people using virgins’ tears, the blood of orcs, the skin of mermaids, and even the blood of a beloved to try and cure this illness. Of course, none of it worked.

  “What have you heard, dear father?”

  There are whispers that a woman in the woods, a seer, knows of the right path to redemption. It is said that she, the Witch of the Woods, can reveal the secrets. When you return to Thule, you will stop there with Erich.”

  Leif bit back his response. Arguing would not make him return to Tink any sooner. How’d it go from his killing people, to now trying to save the woman who was like the trapped princess?

  Hopefully, they could make a quick plan, because now time was of the essence. The dragon was going to sacrifice Tink, and Leif wasn’t going to let her die, even if he ended up bringing an army of the undead with him to fight back. He’d damn them all to save her, and no one would stop him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tink

  I groggily stared at the wooden ceiling of my cupboard bed. I’d never been claustrophobic, and considering the rat infestation around the castle, I’d rather sleep in cramped quarters than have my hair be used for their nests—ick. Still, the bed was comfortable—filled with goose feathers, and sprinkled with lavender, the cold fingers of reality jarred me awake by the sounds of the castle coming to life. It seemed almost as if I could hear the grass growing as my hearing ability seemed to increase. Even now, I listened to the chambermaids whispering three doors down about tonight’s ceremony and feast as they shook out the linens.

  Their excitement was contagious, almost. The more I leaned in to listen, the more noises I picked up: horses clopping into the castle’s bailey; soldiers were practicing with their swords; Father Cyril was leading morning mass in the chapel for his new religion (a mixture of the old religion and this new one), and Donovan whispering my name?

  I heard it so clearly in my head and shuddered.

  That wasn’t right, or how it was supposed to be.

  I eased out of bed and slipped my feet into my shoes. Dressed in my sheer nightgown, I inched over to the waiting basin of fresh water to wash up. The cold water would have to be as good as a cup of coffee, one thing that I immensely missed.

  I still had time before the maid would come to assist me, maybe a bit of light meditation would help. Drawing a circle, I stepped inside and eased myself down to the floor, crossed my legs, closed my eyes, and grounded myself by imagining a carrot burrowing from my stomach down to the center of the earth, and focused on my breathing. I inhaled and slowly exhaled, feeling each breath fill my lungs and whoosh out.

  My mind would not go blank, but instead, I tried to connect with the divine, to figure out what it was I needed to do. Images of Jaz’s face flashed before me. Thinking of the future, my thoughts again settled on Jaz. If she was indeed stuck in time, how could I help her?

  “Show me,” I whispered, and the book I’d gathered from the holy place, moved from beneath my bed of its own accord and fluttered open, then Poppy jumped out of her basket to take a seat next to me. She placed her front paw on the book, and her eyes glowed.

  Crapola, this wasn’t a regular cat, but a familiar. Poppy then placed a paw on me, and the book came to life. A renewed energy, as if I was supercharged, pulsated through me.

  Turning, I stared at the book’s page. It shimmered, but the page was blank. I reached out and touched it, and as if my finger had ink on it, where I touched words appeared. I ran my finger over the page, inch by inch, until words in runic script took form:

  Hell’s bells will ring with the number of three;

  the wrath of death will sing.

  The dragon will soar, and to be free,

  the draconite stone will grant true liberty.

  What is the draconite stone? I wondered. It would take some digging to find out more, but if that was what Jaz needed for me to help her, and my real purpose for being here, then I wasn’t going to waste it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Leif

  Leif and Erich traveled from Keel with a contingent of soldiers, both human and lupine, but human in appearance. Leaving their horses and the other men at the nearby camp, Leif and Erich made their way toward the woods where the Norse witch was rumored to reside. Traveling through the outskirts of town, they bypassed poverty that he’d not recalled. The buildings were all boarded up like the plague was passing through.

  “What is this place?”

  “It’s been called Vamp Town since the disease moved through the area.”

  “The disease?”

  The town was shack buildings erected with thin curtains—hovels for those less than peasants. Even more, it was mostly empty, as if the black death had moved through. The pandemic hit then in the 1330s. During one of his downtimes, he’d even looked it up. The black death had killed around twenty-five million people.

  Damn fleas.

  But this was not from a flea.

  “Is that how the disease moves through here like the bubonic plague is reemerging?”

  “Aye, first comes the fever and then what the people refer to as insufferable pain, followed by spots on their skin that begins reddish and then changes to black. Those who don’t die from it, are then turned. For a while, the bodies piled up and the people were afraid even to bury their dead. Fathers abandoned their family. Neither lawyers nor will clergy step within the town limits.”

  They’d traveled throughout the night to arrive as dawn burst over the horizon.

  “Who is making these vampires? How are new ones created?” Leif asked.

  “No one knows. One woman said that during the night, music is played on a lute, leading the villagers out to the woods, and there they are, enlightened.”

  “A blood rite?”

  “That is my guess as well, but something is vile here, wrong.” A vampire creation by proxy doesn’t work.

  They continued to move through the streets, and Leif could feel someone watching them as if trailing them.

  “Do you feel it too, brother?” Leif asked.

  “Aye, brother.”

  On the silent count of three, they turned away, and there before them was a child draped in a cloak, steam rising from his skin.

  “Are you the chosen son come to lead us?” the child asked. At least Leif would have taken him to be a child if it wasn’t for the look of those cold, dead eyes. This child had been this age for centuries.

  “How long have you been following us?”

  The child shook his head. “I haven’t, master, but I heard of your return, and thought you might understand my servitude and the burden I bear.”

  “Come, you mustn’t stay in the sun or you will be harmed.” The child flinched at Leif’s kindness.

  “Come with me, and I will show you the way to the woman of t
he woods, as I’ve heard you speaking of her. She speaks in riddles, and most never return due to her pet.”

  “Her pet?”

  The child led them to the edge of the forest. “You shall see, but I will not enter the forest. It is not safe for my kind. Those cursed do not return.”

  Upon entering the foliage, Leif noticed the light chirping sound of the birds, the light breeze, and the running water from the nearby spring.

  “How is that, dear brother, must you sleep?” Erich asked.

  That was the thing about being a vampire, the different legends of what it meant.

  Leif shook his head. “One’s harm from the sun only comes through the impurity of the blood, but I’m lucky to have been created by the queen, the daughter of the god of light, Baldr. Others are not so lucky, as not all dragons descend from Baldr’s lineage. Their bite might carry more venom.”

  “So there is a purpose to these vampires.”

  “Servitude. The dragon and its child are unusually close, tied together by an invisible string, almost.”

  “And you and your sire, this Jaz?”

  “Our relationship was different. No matter how much I called out, she couldn’t hear me.” Leif coughed to clear his throat. “But they will have unbreakable allegiance to their maker, usually. The more powerful the dragon, the stronger the bond.”

  Of course, he still preferred the night but didn’t fall to the ground in search of shade. At the most, the sun weakened him, and slowed him down. His performance during the day was at the max of seventy-five percent of his usual. But still better than most humans.

  That was also something he was not going to announce. He’d seen enough of the eyes of those hungering in the streets to know that they’d do anything to get at fresh blood.