The Artful Apprentice
Page 35
And then she heard the roar.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“GET ELENA OUT OF HERE,” EMILY shouted. The light was growing brighter. She knew what was coming, she knew... she swallowed, hard. It might be too late to run. “Hurry!”
She turned to face the crevice as the beast rose from the depths. A dragon. She told herself she should have expected it. Simon had told her the stories. A dragon had fought for the first king of... she banished the thought, bracing herself as the dragon’s head turned to face her. It moved with a slow deliberateness that was all the more terrifying for reminding her of a cat playing with a mouse. She spotted a heavy iron collar around its neck as its giant golden eyes came into view. They peered down at her as if she were barely worthy of its notice.
Her eyes swept over the creature, studying it. It was smaller than the first dragon she’d met, although still far larger than any human. It looked... nastier, she thought; there was a thoroughly unpleasant, even sinister, tinge to its appearance. Its blood-red scales seemed to glow in the light, flames flickering around its mouth and nostrils. And its golden eyes were mad. She felt its rage beat against the air.
Willis said something, but Emily couldn’t make out the words. The dragon consumed her attention, drawing her like a moth to a flame. She had to press her nails into her palm hard enough to draw blood just to keep herself from stumbling forward and tumbling into the darkness. She tried desperately to think of a plan as the dragon’s forearms came into view, stone crumbling beneath the weight as it crawled from the crevice. Giant bat-like wings vibrated with suppressed tension, confirming — if she’d doubted it — that the dragon could fly. Ice ran down her spine as she realized what the duke had been saying, what he’d really been saying. He’d intended to ride the dragon to the city and burn his foes to ash.
She shuddered as the implications dawned on her. The first king had — somehow — managed to tame or enslave a dragon. How? The last dragon she’d met had talked, but this one was more of a... beast. Had he thrown a virgin girl into the beast’s maw? She felt sick as she remembered how the duke had looked at his niece. Elena might have been born and bred for sacrifice... no, that couldn’t be the answer. Her father could not have predicted his own death. He’d assume his daughter would grow up and marry well before he met his maker.
And the dragon wants revenge, she thought. The beast was studying her, its giant eyes keeping her rooted to the spot. It’ll lay waste to the countryside if I let it go.
She snorted as she tried to remember what she’d been told about dragon hunters. Very few of them came back alive. Even fewer went out again, after they’d bagged a dragon and laid claim to the corpse. Dragons were flying bricks, largely immune to all kinds of magic and bladed weapons. Their weak spots were few and far between. Her eyes searched for a crack in the dragon’s scales, in its natural armor, but saw nothing. Willis’s cursed dagger was in the duke’s back, well within reach, yet... even if she took the blade, where could she put it? She had no way of knowing if the curse would affect the dragon... and even if it did, it would take the beast a long time to die.
The dragon’s hind legs emerged. It inched forward, more cat-like than ever. The duke let out a faint chuckle — Emily had no idea why he wasn’t dead — as the dragon stretched, spreading its wings. Emily looked up, suddenly understanding why the chamber was partly open to the outside air. The beast could fly straight up and into the open, then turn to burn the nearest city or... was there anything that could stop it? By the time the Allied Lands got organized, by the time they dispatched a small army of dragon hunters, hundreds of thousands of people would be dead.
I have to stop it, she thought. But how?
She reached out with her senses. The dragon was ablaze with magic, a glow so bright she didn’t dare look too closely for fear she would be blinded. It was pure magic... she reminded herself, sharply, that the creature couldn’t live without magic. If she could find a way to drain it... she shook her head. If trying necromancy on a human was certain madness — if not death — she shuddered to think what might happen if she tried it on a dragon. The creature was so powerful, she didn’t dare try.
“I...” Willis stammered helplessly. “I...”
“I told you to get Elena out of here,” Emily said. She didn’t take her eyes off the dragon. “I think...”
The dragon opened its mouth, revealing a shark-like collection of bloodstained teeth, and blew a wave of fire. Emily cast a spell to raise a shield, cursing under her breath as the fire started to burn through the shield. There was no elegance at all, no conservation of power... the dragon didn’t need to be careful. It could burn down an entire city without breaking a sweat. She remembered the legends, and shuddered. If Simon was to be believed, no wonder the first king had won so easily. Very few people could stand against a dragon for more than a few seconds.
She held the shield in place as she scooped up another rock and propelled it at the dragon as hard as she could. A low THUNK echoed though the chamber as it struck the dragon’s belly and dropped to the ground. It was hard to read expressions on the creature’s face, but she had the impression it was laughing. Its eyes flared with madness as it leaned forward, practically brushing its nostrils against the shield before blowing another cloud of fire into her magic. The shield started to crumble. A wave of heat pressed Emily back. She glanced at Willis, making sure he was already heading for the antechamber, then used her magic to flip up and land on the ceiling. The dragon’s claws tore through the remnants of the shield, an instant before it looked up and breathed fire. Emily dropped, allowing gravity to yank her down as she hurled a series of curses at the dragon. They splashed uselessly against the beast’s scales.
The dragon roared and reached out. Heavy claws slashed through the air. Emily feinted right, then levitated and hurled herself to the left as the dragon lashed out at her again. The ground shook — stone crumbling under the dragon’s weight — as the beast roared again. A chunk of rock dropped past her and struck the dragon’s head. It didn’t seem remotely concerned. She glanced at what was left of the ceiling, wondering if she should try to turn it into kinetic projectiles. But there just wasn’t room to build up enough power to take out a dragon.
She dropped down and slipped into a side tunnel. The dragon followed, pushing its nostrils up against the entrance and breathing fire after her. Emily wrapped her magic around herself, allowing the fire to push her further down the tunnel. The magic started to crumble, once again. There was enough raw magic in the dragon’s flame to melt anything. The rock itself was melting. She breathed a sigh of relief as she fell back into the main chamber. The entire mountain was shaking like a leaf.
And if the duke hadn’t taken my battery...
She pushed the thought aside, sharply. She didn’t have time to fetch the battery. Even if she had, she didn’t know how to use it, not here. The dragon was too heavily armored to be affected by most of her spells, while its magic would make it impossible to craft a more... innovative... spell around it. She could neither throw it into a pocket dimension nor use a teleport spell to cut it in half. She couldn’t even teleport herself. There was enough raw magic in the air to make it impossible.
They controlled a dragon, she thought. The sheer anger in the creature’s eyes put the lie to the stories of a friendly dragon, a loving creature who’d birthed the royal line. It wanted freedom. It wanted revenge. How did they do it?
Her mind raced as the dragon blew more fire towards her. It was playing with her, she realized numbly. It could have killed her — or trapped her — if it had grabbed her with its claws. Instead... it was mocking her, ignoring her spells as it threw her around the chamber and smacked her into the walls. She glanced down and saw the duke, grinning insanely as he lay on the ground. The crown lay beside him, twisted out of shape. He was stronger than she’d realized. The curse was killing him, and his doom was certain, but he was still fighting desperately to survive long enough to watch her die.
She forced herself to think. The moment the dragon got into the open air, the country was doomed. She didn’t think resistance could be organized in time to keep the dragon from burning everything for miles around. She had to stop it, but how? How had the dragon been controlled in the first place? A compulsion spell wouldn’t work on a creature that was permanently surrounded by magic... would it? It would be difficult, almost impossible, to make the creature obey for even a few seconds, let alone permanently. The waves of raw magic would dissolve the spellwork and then whoever had cast the spell would have an extremely angry dragon breathing fire down their necks. It couldn’t be done...
They might have sacrificed a virgin to make the spell, she thought, but they couldn’t keep doing it... could they?
The dragon lifted its wings, then lashed out and struck the chamber wall. Emily saw the stone start to collapse, an endless series of shockwaves running through the mountain. She hoped, desperately, that Willis and Elena had managed to get down the steps before it was too late. The dragon was trying to flatten the entire mountain. She could feel its power pervading the air, hammering against the world. It was just too strong. She didn’t think she could overwhelm it with anything less than a nexus point.
She ducked back as the dragon turned to face her. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted the collar. It was cold iron, covered in runes... understanding clicked as she realized how the trick had been done. The first king had crafted the collar, using runes to tap the dragon’s own magic and... and effectively use the dragon’s magic to enslave it. She felt a pang of sympathy as the dragon’s mouth yawned open, a foul stench spreading through the air a moment before she saw the spark. She hurled herself aside as a wave of flame blasted against her, barely catching herself a second before she hit the ground. The impact jarred her. Emily rolled over and found herself looking at the duke. Somehow — incredibly — he was still alive.
The dragon’s neck twisted as it followed her. She heard a whimper as it opened its mouth, but... nothing happened. Emily stared. Was it still playing with her? Or... she looked at the duke, then the crown behind the duke. It was an odd crown. She’d met enough monarchs and their families to know they preferred their crowns to be gold. A crown that looked like a drunken blacksmith had forged it one terrible night simply didn’t fit. Except...
She reached for the crown. Magic, dark magic, crackled around her fingertips. She heard the duke snicker as she hastily countered the charms, thanking all the gods that Void had drilled her so relentlessly. Whoever had crafted the crown had woven their power into the iron, linking it to both the dragon’s collar and their bloodline. And it took royal blood to make it work...
They didn’t want their heirs waking the dragon for anything minor, she thought, as she examined the charms. If it took royal blood to wake the dragon... someone of royal blood would have to die. They wanted to make sure there was no other choice first.
The charms expanded as she removed the protections, one by one. They were both simple and strong, close enough to necromancy — or at least a necromantic-like way of thinking — to worry her. Whoever wore the crown could command the dragon, if they had royal blood — and magic. The spells weren’t clear on precisely how the commands should be given... she wondered, suddenly, just how intelligent the beast was. The last dragon she’d met had talked intelligently. This one had done nothing more than roar.
“The crown won’t work for you,” the duke said. “And when I die, you’ll die too.”
Emily nodded. It looked as if he was right. The charms were tied so closely to the royal bloodline that nothing less would suffice. She couldn’t even use the duke’s blood to trick them. Willis... she glanced into the antechamber, but saw no sign of either of the royal children. And the dragon... it was patiently waiting for the duke to die. She swallowed, hard. The only thing keeping her alive was the binding on the dragon, the strict command not to hurt anyone of royal blood. The duke was right. When he died, the dragon would kill her and go on to lay waste to the countryside.
She looked up at the dragon. She couldn’t control it, but... she reached out with her power, sensing both sets of charms. The crown flared — she dropped it, yelping in pain — and melted into a puddle of molten liquid. The dragon recoiled, its entire body shaking as the collar came loose and fell to the ground. It stared at her in shock. Emily heard the duke gasp. The thought of being torn apart by an angry dragon...
“Go,” she said. She had no idea if the dragon could understand her. “Leave this place and...”
The dragon leapt up. It passed through what was left of the overhang and vanished into the darkness. Emily sagged, hoping she’d done the right thing. It was worth a try. The dragon would have broken free as soon as the duke died, giving it the chance to kill her and burn the entire kingdom. Perhaps, just perhaps...
“Fool,” the duke said. Blood was dripping from his mouth. “You let it go.”
Emily met his eyes. “It’s over,” she said, quietly. The duke’s breath was coming in fits and starts. He couldn’t last much longer. “Tell me... tell me the truth and I’ll do what I can for your sons. Did you kill your brother?”
The duke laughed, harshly. “I told you,” he said. He belched, coughing up blood. “I didn’t kill my brother. I... I swear it on my death!”
“You didn’t?” Emily believed him. The duke had no reason to lie, not now. His sons would be in deep trouble if they didn’t have someone to speak on their behalf. “If not you, then who?”
“I told you,” the duke said. His entire body convulsed as the curse spread out of control. “It was the queen. Who else...?”
He laughed, then fell silent. Emily didn’t have to check his pulse to know he was dead.
“And if it wasn’t you,” she asked the duke’s body, “then who?”
She took one last look around the remains of chamber, then gathered her magic and strode into the antechamber. The statues had been smashed, piles of debris lying everywhere. A frisson of fear ran through her as she clambered over the fallen rocks, wondering if Willis and Elena were buried somewhere underneath. It wasn’t until she reached the top of the steps that she found them, sitting and staring over the land.
“Lady Emily,” Willis said. Beside him, Elena looked tired and worn. “What happened?”
Emily sat next to him, smoothing down what remained of her dress. The landscape looked... peaceful, tranquil. It looked as if the dragon hadn’t paused to burn the kingdom before heading... wherever it had gone. Had that been what Void had sent her to do? Free the dragon? It didn’t seem likely. She wouldn’t have had to try to solve the mystery if all he’d wanted her to do was free the dragon. She could have sneaked into the mountains and freed the beast without ever getting involved in local politics.
“I freed the dragon,” she said. “Did your father tell you anything about it?”
“No.” Willis looked up at her, eyes shining. “He said he’d tell me everything when I came of age.”
“He didn’t tell me anything at all,” Elena said. “What was it?”
Emily stood, rather than try to answer. “We have to get back to the city,” she said. She was too tired to teleport, but she was fairly sure she could liberate the horses and recover her supplies. “Who knows what’s happening there?”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
EMILY HAD NEVER LIKED RIDING HORSES. She’d learned — Alassa had been a harsh taskmaster, practically forcing her to stay on the beasts until she’d mastered the
basics — but she’d never understood why some girls went gooey over horses. The beasts she rode always looked as if they were contemplating the best way to throw her into the nearest ditch and gallop away into the distance. But they were the only way to get back to the city. She sneaked into the encampment, recovered her possessions and stole three horses. It was surprisingly easy.
She felt tired, worse than anything she’d ever felt before, as the horses carried the three of them down the ancient road. She wanted — needed — a few hours of sleep, but she knew she wasn’t going to get them. Not yet. Her magic felt weak and drained, as if she’d pushed herself past her limit. She poked through the saddlebags and found a handful of rations, but they didn’t do enough. She was tempted to suggest they find a place to hide and hole up for the day, at least long enough to let her magic regenerate. But she knew there was no time to lose. God alone knew what would happen when word of the duke’s death reached the city.
Elena pulled alongside, riding her horse with an ease that Emily couldn’t help finding a little irritating. The younger girl practically sparkled with energy, cheeks flushed as magic coursed through her system. She’d drained her magic in the first flash, Emily thought, but it was already regenerating. Someone — Simon, probably — was going to have to teach her control very quickly, before she went to school. Elena already knew how to read and write, as well as a few other basics. Whitehall would probably insist she go straight into first year.
“I feel great,” Elena said. Her hair streamed in the wind. “Is that normal?”
“It can be,” Emily said. She hadn’t gone through an awakening herself. “I’ll get Simon to teach you how to control your magic before you go to school.”
Elena shot her a sharp glance. “Is it... decent... to have a young man teach me?”