“Lamwen,” she greeted Gwirwen’s captain evenly.
“Which tower are they in?” he demanded, adjusting his footing on the narrow ledge on which he perched. A full-sized male, he stood fifteen feet high from the ground, which was about half his entire length, and his wings spanned almost thirty feet when he spread them.
The dragon had visited Jerranyth several times over the years, but he held no real love for the elves. His bright green skin and dark emerald accents shimmering as he twitched eagerly, he would make his work there quick.
“They’ve gone,” she informed him flatly, her features betraying no emotion.
“What do you mean gone?” he hissed, smoke trickling out between his teeth. “You assured our king, Gwirwen, they would be here and ready to be taken.” Or killed.
“As that was my intention,” she assured, looking away and lifting her chin. “They have escaped. One of my weapons men is with them.”
“You have a traitor,” he coughed, displeased further with each revelation.
“He will be dealt with. In fact, you have my permission to kill him or punish him as you see fit,” she replied with a gleam in her eye as she cut her gaze back to him.
“Very well,” Lamwen agreed, again adjusting his footing and sending a few rocks plummeting to the empty path below. “Where have they gone?”
“You will find them at Esterbrook,” she supplied, her lips curling into a thin smile.
“Esterbrook,” he repeated with a deep laugh. “Of course. The nymphs hold great disdain at being made to bow before our new king. Our peace with them is fleeting, and we will take pleasure in making an example of them and those that harbor enemies of Eriden.”
“As you should,” Cilithrand agreed, turning and stepping calmly into her suite before closing the curtains to her balcony, essentially washing her hands of the humans and the dragon in one motion.
Leaping from his perch, Lamwen soared above the tops of the trees. Headed north, he landed on a snow-capped peak, where his two companions awaited their orders. “They’ve fled Jerranyth,” he informed them curtly. “Either by escape or the queen has let them go. She’s a conniving wench, and therefore it is difficult to say as to the how and why.”
“We will hunt them?” Pardodan, a heavy-set dragon with blue and green scales asked calmly. Several feet shorter than the captain, he eagerly awaited his chance to prove himself useful as a protector of the kingdom before the king by the completion of this task.
“No need,” Lamwen explained. “They’ve been taken in at Esterbrook.”
“The nymphs,” Vaudien, the third member of their hunting party laughed, his amethyst eyes glowing and accenting his deep purple and black skin. “They will pay for sheltering the fugitives.”
“Indeed,” Lamwen growled before leaping into the air. Taking a path south and west, the other two followed close behind, ready to do their master’s bidding and close the matter for good.
Lying on her pallet beneath a small grove of trees, Amicia sighed deeply. In their exhaustion, the others had fallen into a peaceful slumber almost as soon as they had lain down, but not her. Pulling her merdoe from its hiding place, she rubbed the smooth inside and pondered the day’s events.
Recalling how the wolves had shown up at the most opportune moment, she shuddered. I called them, she silently considered. She hadn’t meant to, but it had happened just the same. Where knowing this might have brought her comfort, it did not. Realizing her ability frightened her.
I shouldn’t use this thing anymore, she rationalized. Since the others had been infused with the magic of the land, there would be no need. Maybe I should get rid of it, destroy it or something, she mused.
Lightning flashed in a distant cloud. Glaring at it, she sighed. I may have to wake the others before that gets here and we get soaked in a downpour.
Staring at the storm, it approached quickly; too quickly. Her chest tight with fear, she shoved her shell between her breasts and leapt to her feet. “Piers!” she screamed, reaching him and shaking him fiercely. “Mate! The dragons are coming!”
“What?” he stammered, confused at his untimely awakening.
Next to him, Rey rolled over and demanded, “What dragons?”
“I don’t know,” she replied anxiously, pointing at the dark horizon. “The storm comes too fast to be natural.”
The three men and the elf got to their feet, stretching and claiming their weapons. “Are we not going to run away?” she cried when she realized they weren’t packing for a hasty exit.
“Not this time, love,” the Mate informed her. “This time, we stand our ground.” Glaring at the elf, he growled, “Are you with us, or should I end you now?” Raising his sword, he made his threat clear.
“Don’t be stupid,” Animir replied in a surly tone. “You will need all the aid you can get. Besides, I have not betrayed you, and my life will be at risk equal to your own.”
Looking around, Rey whined, “Has anyone seen Oldrilin?”
All casting glances around them, they did not see the siren. Instead, they saw nymphs and satyrs pouring out of their burrows and beds among the treetops. In a massive ocean of bodies, they pressed in around the sacred rings but did not fill them in, keeping the inner three circles clear.
Joining them, Zaendra squealed, “You have brought the dragons back to the glen. For many moons have they left us in peace, but on the night of your arrival, they attack!”
“That was not our intention,” Ami replied crossly, positioning her quiver across her back. She had taken a few practice shots with her new bow and had proven to be a poor shot, but she would stand with her friends and fight none-the-less.
Out in the meadow, Queen Preivia stood alone in the central ring as three large dragons landed around her. She appeared to be speaking to them. Frowning, Piers swore under his breath.
Cutting her eyes over at him, Ami asked, “What do you think?”
“I think without cover or a shield, we’ll be burnt to a crisp in a matter of seconds,” he replied tartly.
Images of burned cows sprang into her mind, and Amicia cursed as well. Gripping her bow tightly, she waited for the signal they would begin the battle.
But the signal did not come as she had expected. The power of the nymphs had been demonstrated earlier in the evening, and their cunning now came to light. In an instant, the queen disappeared, as if the blink of an eye had removed her.
In the same moment, a heavy flurry of rocks, logs and other debris rained down upon the trio still standing in the center of the sacred rings. Taking flight, their wings beat wildly, and flames spewed from their nostrils, scorching the lush, green field.
Her mouth open wide, Ami tore her eyes from the beasts and searched the edge of the tree line, where she could see large contraptions had been pushed out into the open space. Equipped with large buckets at the end of pivoting arms, she had never seen such a weapon.
“What are they?” she gasped, watching as a pair of satyrs cranked one of them into position, the long log pulled back. They triggered the latch once it was in place, and a roundish stone hurtled through the air, catching one of the flying demons upside the head as he gained altitude and wobbled for a moment before righting himself and joining his friends out of reach.
“Cannons of some sort,” the Mate observed, pointing at another contraption that had been fitted with a large arrow. “They’ve learned to forge,” he gasped.
“Yes,” Animir agreed. “It is surprising to say the least.”
Catching a whiff of uncertainty in his voice, Piers seized him by the front of his shirt and slammed him against a tree. “Something tells me you aren’t surprised about this at all,” he growled.
“I have no knowledge of this,” the elf stammered. “Only to observe the weapons could not have been forged by the nymphs or the satyrs, who protect them. They have formed an ally, of this I am certain.”
“The elves?” Rey asked, joining in the interrogation.
“
The queen would never provide them with arms,” Animir replied, his voice growing faint, “not unless it served her purpose.”
“Served her purpose,” Amicia repeated with a heavy frown. “She wants them to fight.”
“Perhaps,” the Mate agreed, releasing his prisoner and watching as the dragons swooped in for another run.
This time, the satyrs hit them with an even stronger volley, and the steel arrows ripped through the wing of the largest dragon, sending him crashing to the ground, where it lay perfectly still.
“They’ve killed it!” Amicia shouted, with a surprising mixture of anger and pain coursing through her veins as the satyrs continued to attack the defenseless creature, pummeling him with large stones and hunks of wood the size of a man’s chest. Tears on her face, she slung her bow over her back and ran out into the sea of bodies. “Stop! Stop!” she shouted, pushing her way towards the center, where the helpless beast lay.
With their captain struck down, Pardodan and Vaudien flew higher, into the tumultuous clouds. They made a wide sweeping circle over the land, coasting on the currents of air as they evaluated their position. Inspecting the weapons, they knew they could set fire to the glen and wipe out all that hid within it, but at great cost to the kingdom as a whole.
“We need to confer with Gwirwen and the council,” Vaudien observed. “The queen of Esterbrook reached an accord with Gwirwen soon after he came to power. They are allies of the dragons, and yet they have attacked us.”
“Do we leave him?” Pardodan asked of his elder, unsure of their course.
Reaching out to his captain but only finding silence below, the elder growled, “They were never so armed. We have been blindsided by their treachery, arming themselves so while under a truce with us. Lamwen does not respond to my calls, and I daresay we will lie beside him if we make another pass.”
“Then we should seek the counsel of our king,” Pardodan agreed.
Flying higher still, the pair headed north but would soon turn east as they crossed the whole of the kingdom. The dragons’ cliffs lay on the opposite side of the continent, and therefore controlling this furthest point was of great interest to Gwirwen by treaty if possible, or by force if necessary. He would want to be kept appraised of any uprising that might be brewing, and the humans would be secondary of concerns, Vaudien felt sure.
Below, Lamwen lay on the ground, the concentric circles of the field radiating out from his lifeless form. Reaching him, the satyrs carried out a large net made of rope. Climbing over him as if he were a simple statue carved from rock, they covered him with it and staked it to the ground, shouting and cheering as they did so.
Arriving in the center, the group of outsiders paused while Amicia pushed closer, her cheeks damp with tears. Next to the beast, she could smell the blood as it oozed from his fresh wounds, the one on the side of his head coating the sacred ground with thick red blood. Her hand trembling, she reached to touch the leathery skin of his wing, the torn flap ragged and loose.
“Why did they run away?” Bally asked, staring at the two forms disappearing in the distance. “If the same species can talk to one another telepathically, why didn’t they just call for help? They breathe fire. I’m sure they could have taken us.”
“We have struck a peace with the dragons,” Preivia explained, laying her hand on the snout of the creature before her. “A ruse to give us time to prepare. They dare not attack us openly. They have flown to inform the dragon council of our readiness to fight.”
“But you attacked them,” the Mate observed, glaring at the large lidded orbs. The dragon’s breath hot, it blew over him as their prisoner huffed against his bonds. They had bound his snout by wrapping it with a thin rope so that it could not be opened, and he tapped the binding with a knuckle. “Will that thing hold him?”
“We should kill him now!” Rey spat, angrily clenching his fists around the handle of his sword.
“No!” Amicia screamed, leaving the broken wing and stumbling to stop him. Dropping her weapon, she lay against the neck of the creature, which stirred at her touch. “This dragon will not be harmed!” she commanded, as if she had the authority to do so.
The large, glassy eyes opened, and Lamwen shifted his head to have a better look at the flimsy female. Pulling against his bonds, he found that they were sound, and suspected that they had been reinforced by a magical spell or binding. Puffing a small blast of flame out of his nose, he forced his keepers back with the threat, but the girl did not move.
“I’m Amicia,” she informed him in a shaky tone, backing away so he could see who spoke to him. Standing straight, she pressed her merdoe against her flesh through her shirt as she closed her eyes. “I know you can hear me,” she directed her thoughts towards him.
His emerald green orbs widened in surprise, but he did not reply. Instead, he lay still, patiently awaiting his fate.
“Please,” she said aloud, her hand trembling as she stepped forward and placed her palm flat against his nose. A nostril on either side of the tiny hand, he could have blasted her with flames and roasted her on the spot.
Considering this, the girl’s voice shook. “We mean you no harm,” she pushed. “We have never meant any, at that. We only wish to go home,” she finished quietly.
Closing his eyes, the dragon refused any rebuttal and lay panting against his prison.
Creeping forwards Piers seized her arm. “Come away, precious,” he instructed. “This beast has no words for us mortals,” he spat, wishing he could join Rey in his cry for blood. But Ami had spoken against it, and the dragon belonged to the nymphs at any rate.
Pulling her arm away, Amicia refused to leave him. “I won’t go. Not until I know what you’re going to do with him,” she insisted, turning to face the queen.
“He will be judged fairly,” Preivia assured her. “We are champions of life and do not seek to kill. Even our enemies are sacred to us.”
Her face crinkled, and fresh tears stained the girl’s cheeks, the queen’s words resonating with her emotions. Walking back to the trees, Amicia refused to be comforted. The Mate held her tightly with one arm wrapped across her shoulders, preventing her from looking back.
Arriving at their bedrolls, he pushed her down upon her blanket. “Sleep,” he ordered.
“How can I?” she sniveled.
Dropping down beside her, he wrapped her in his quilt and held her against his broad chest. Leaning back against the tree, he pinned her next to him and said more loudly. “Everyone get down and get quiet. The dragon is not ours, and it is up to the owner of this land to decide what will become of him.”
Gone
Amicia awoke to bright light. Cracking her lids, she felt overly warm and coughed a few times as she sat up. Still next to Piers, he grinned up at her as she got to her feet.
“Well, that was cozy,” he chortled, brandishing a salacious smile.
Looking down at herself, she flushed. She had slept next to him many nights when they were in Riran, and he had been stringing her along, toying with her emotions. “Yes it was, thank you,” she replied stiffly, holding her harsh rebuke at bay.
Rubbing her face, she looked around, longing for a bit of water to remove the sleep from her eyes. Her gaze sweeping across the meadow, she gasped, “The dragon is gone!”
“What do you mean gone?” the man shouted, leaping to his feet.
Glaring at the group of nymphs that stood around the vacated trap, he muttered, “Well, shit.” Marching across the open field, he couldn’t wait to hear their excuse for freeing the beast.
“You, queenie,” he snapped when he reached the gathering, “what’s the meaning of letting him go?”
“As you said, the choice was mine to make,” she informed him, her lips slowly curling, “and so it has been made. Lamwen will return to his realm unharmed.”
“Unharmed,” Rey sputtered, joining the group. “We should have killed him, after what they’ve done.”
“This isn’t their fight,” Amicia cou
ntered, looking around at the men dolefully. When her gaze fell on Oldrilin, she gasped, “Oh, Lin. I’m so sorry.”
“Aye,” Reynard nodded angrily, his hands on his hips. “They killed our entire crew on the ship, and God only knows what’s become of the sirens. He deserved to die,” he spat bitterly.
“I find that hard to believe. No creature deserves to be murdered, even the guilty,” Ami replied with a heavy heart.
“You’re wrong!” Rey shouted, throwing his arms into the air. “We could have sent them a message! We could have let them know we’re not afraid. We could have shown them that we are not weak and that they should leave us alone or get what they’ve got coming to them!”
“We did send them a message,” the girl replied softly. “A message of peace.” Pivoting, her gaze wandered from face to face as men, elf, nymph, and satyr all stared at her. Squaring her shoulders, she said more confidently, “We’ve all suffered along this journey. Perhaps our act of compassion will be enough. Perhaps we can now search for a way home and be allowed to leave this wretched place.”
The inhabitants of Esterbrook stared at her, and Oldrilin’s lips sank into a heavy frown at her choice of words.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, pushing her hair out of her face and realizing how her declaration had sounded. “This is not a bad kingdom,” she back paddled, wringing her hands anxiously. “It’s not home, that’s all. Please, forgive me.”
Blinking at her calmly, Preivia reached for her trembling digits. “Amicia,” she sighed. “You sweet princess. We understand your plight and your ill will towards our lands. But we cannot help you with this request.”
Inhaling deeply, the smaller woman sighed as she dropped the connection and turned her back on her new friend. “We could wish you home to the rim of mortals with all our hearts, and yet the truth would still stand.”
“And what truth is that?” Rey demanded, continuing his sulking at the turn of events.
“No one leaves the Kingdom of Eriden,” she informed him quietly, looking over her shoulder to peek at his reaction. “The island is protected by a deep, ancient magic. Those who come here stay here. The only beasts who may leave are those capable of flight,” she quietly added, confirming what Animir had said as they dined before fleeing Jerranyth.
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