Dragonslayer

by Tui T. Sutherland

  Wren followed him, carefully but as fast as she could. It was lucky that most of the doors in the palace were always open, covered by long billowing white curtains to let the breeze through. She’d also found a few where she could crawl right under the door, but there were others that were too thick or too close to the floor, and a few that seemed to have special, spiky anti-human flaps added on at the bottom for some mysterious reason.

  Sandstorm marched through the kitchens, laughing his annoying hearty laugh and shouting jokes at various dragons as he went by. Wren didn’t think she was just imagining it; she was pretty sure from their eye rolls that they all found him annoying, too. He yelled at someone to bring his drink to his room, and then he clattered on through and up a flight of stairs.

  Dragon-sized stairs were a pain, but better than the parts of the palace where dragons just flew from ledge to ledge and left no way for a human to follow. Each step was about as tall as Wren’s shoulders, so she just had to pull herself up and then run to the next and do it again, one after the other.

  At the top, Sandstorm had disappeared, but she could hear his obnoxious voice chatting away in one of the rooms off the corridor. She tiptoed along the passage until she found the right one. The door was ajar. Wren peeked inside.

  Sky was sitting in a corner of the room, chained to the floor, with his wings puddling dejectedly around his talons, watching Sandstorm talk. He had on one of his hopelessly sweet expressions, the one that said he was sure he could befriend that angry grizzly bear if he smiled at it enough.

  “Not much longer!” Sandstorm was saying. The general dropped some of his armor with a clank that reverberated through the stones under Wren’s feet. “This will be so great! I’ve never brought her anything for her —” something Wren didn’t understand. “Bet this will get me a new command.”

  “But aren’t we on the same side?” Sky said. “My tribe and your queen?”

  “For now, more or less,” Sandstorm said with a snort. “You weren’t with any army, though; I’d wager you’ve never fought a day in your life. So I’m guessing your queen — or whoever is queen over there now — won’t miss you too much.”

  A sound on the stairs warned Wren that someone was coming. She slipped through the door, staying low so the bed would hide her from the general, and crawled under one of the loose blankets on the floor.

  One of the kitchen dragons came in, set a cup down on the table, bowed to the general, and went out again. Sandstorm drank it with a lot of loud smacking noises, and then sauntered out the door.

  Wren waited until it was quiet in the corridor outside and Sandstorm’s booming laugh had faded away. Then she threw off the blanket and ran over to Sky.

  “Wren?” he yelped, his eyes as wide as they’d been the day he found the turtle.

  She jumped over his chains, climbed up his leg, and threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped his wings around her and they stayed like that for a long moment, together, the way they always should be.

  “I’m sorry, Wren,” he said. His voice trembled with tears. “You were right about the dragon city.”

  “No, don’t be sorry,” she said. “It’s these awful dragons who kidnapped you who should be sorry. Who will be sorry, when I’m done with them.” She let go of him and hopped down to examine the chains.

  “How did you find me?” he asked.

  “I’m extremely clever,” she said. “And you’re my best friend, so I was definitely going to find you eventually, no matter how long it took. How do I get these chains off you?”

  He lifted one arm to display a wrist cuff and dropped it again. “There’s a key, but General Sandstorm always has it with him.”

  “What does that blowfish want with you anyway?” Wren asked, kicking one of the chain links. It did not promptly collapse under the weight of her wrath, as she’d been hoping it would.

  “The queen here collects weird things,” Sky said mournfully. “And apparently I’m a weird thing, because no one else is this color, and SkyWings are supposed to have fire.”

  “You’re not weird!” Wren objected. “I mean, you are, but you’re perfect weird. Like me.” She grinned at him, and he smiled back. “Can I get the key while Sandstorm is sleeping?”

  “I don’t think so,” Sky said. “It’s around his neck. I’m afraid he’d wake up and kill you.”

  Wren folded her arms and frowned at the chains. That windowless tower with the furious dragon — that was probably where the queen kept her weird-things collection, or at least any live parts of it. Which meant she might put Sky in there, and then it would be even harder to rescue him. It would be better if she could get the key and free him now, as soon as possible, before the queen returned.

  And she could think of only one way to do that.

  “Well,” she said to Sky, “then I guess I’m going to have to kill him first.”

  The arrests began while Ivy was asleep.

  It was Daffodil who woke her up, startling her out of a dream about dragons setting each other on fire.

  “Ivy,” Daffodil whispered. “Ivy, help, Ivy, please wake up.” She shook Ivy harder, sitting down on the bed next to her. “I know I say this all the time but it’s a real real emergency, I mean it now.”

  “Daffodil?” Ivy sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What’s happening?”

  “Your dad is arresting Wingwatchers,” Daffodil said. “He has Foxglove and Squirrel and — and Ivy, he has Violet.” She started to cry. “I was with her, I was in the other room, I was supposed to sleep over — but I guess they didn’t know I was there — they burst in the front door and grabbed her, and Ivy, I didn’t do anything! I didn’t run out and fight them or anything!”

  “You did the right thing,” Ivy said, taking her hands. Her own hands were shaking, but she tried to keep her voice calm. “You didn’t get arrested, and you came to tell me. So we can do something about it together.” She climbed out of bed and started to get dressed. Her first instinct was to reach for her Wingwatcher uniform — but that might be exactly what her father’s guards were looking for. She grabbed her charcoal-gray tunic instead.

  “What are we going to do?” Daffodil twisted her hands together. Her hair was out of its ponytail, a tangled mess around her shoulders, and she was still wearing her pajamas, which were the last item of clothing she owned that her mother had managed to cover in bright yellow spots. Ivy grabbed a long brown cloak and threw it to her. “Ivy, why is he doing this? Do you have any idea?”

  “I think he’s afraid of someone taking his power away,” Ivy said. “Maybe he heard the same rumors about the Wingwatchers that Violet heard, or maybe he thinks they’re — we’re — working with the lord of the Indestructible City.”

  She’d felt the tension closing in around her home since Leaf arrived and delivered his ill-fated message. All her father’s paranoia had been reactivated. He’d gathered his brutes to follow him everywhere, and more than once Ivy had caught him staring at the pedestal where his treasure was hidden, as though he was considering grabbing it all and running away.

  Ivy had been waiting for him to calm down so she could talk to him about Leaf and try to explain. But he hadn’t calmed down. He’d gotten worse; more and more short-tempered and snapping at everyone, especially her mom. Last night he’d broken a few plates in a rage in the kitchen while Ivy and her mother stayed in Ivy’s room and pretended not to hear.

  “It might be something else,” Daffodil said. “I heard one of the guards say they’d start searching once they’d arrested everyone.”

  Ivy stared at her, rubbing the goose bumps on her arms. “Do you think he discovered that the sapphire was missing?” she whispered. She hadn’t thought that he might go back to check on it. He’d moved the rest of his treasure here — she’d assumed he didn’t take the sapphire because he didn’t even want to see it.

  Daffodil’s eyes widened. “No matter what they’re looking for, they’ll find the sapphire in Foxglove’s cave!” she whispered.


  Ivy wasn’t sure what the punishment would be for actually stealing the Dragonslayer’s treasure, but given what he did to Pine for just being near it, she had a bad feeling that it would be worse than banishment.

  “We have to get it first,” she said, heading for the door.

  She was startled to find her mother awake and pacing around the living room. She hadn’t realized her mom must have let Daffodil in.

  “Mom?” Ivy said. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m just worried,” her mother said. She had one of Heath’s scarves in her hands, which she kept winding through her fingers as she walked. “I’ve never seen him like this. I don’t know what to do to get him back to normal.”

  “He always calms down eventually,” Ivy said, hoping she sounded more convinced than she was.

  “Yes, usually, but —” Ivy’s mom stopped and pressed the scarf to her face. “I just don’t know whether he —” She stopped again.

  Whether he might arrest you, too. Ivy had had the same thought herself. If he was willing to arrest her best friend … and he knew how much time she spent with Foxglove … and he didn’t trust any of the Wingwatchers …

  “We need to check on our friends,” Ivy said, taking Daffodil’s hand.

  “Stay out of your father’s way,” her mother said suddenly. She put the scarf around Ivy’s neck and arranged Ivy’s hair around it with fluttering hands. “If you need to — go somewhere — just for a little while — I understand.”

  Ivy hugged her fiercely, then tugged Daffodil out the door. They ran through the tunnels toward Foxglove’s. A cluster of guards were gathered at one of the turns, arguing with one another; Ivy whipped around and dragged Daffodil a different way to avoid them. They’d almost reached Foxglove’s cave when another trio of the Dragonslayer’s goons came marching around the corner. Ivy shoved Daffodil through the nearest door, and they waited in a storeroom half-full of dried fruit until the soldiers were gone.

  How many men does Dad have working for him? Ivy wondered. She knew he always had guards with him, and she knew there’d been more and more men she didn’t know added on over the last few years. She’d even seen him handing out silver coins to the ones in charge, the only time she’d ever seen him pay real money for something. But she hadn’t realized that he was essentially building his own army, loyal only to him.

  “I don’t think it’s quite fair,” Daffodil whispered, “that you’re the nicest one of the three of us and the most competent in a crisis. I feel like I should get to be at least one of those.”

  “You’re the funniest,” Ivy whispered back. “And the best dancer. And the one everyone has a crush on.”

  “Ha, no,” Daffodil said, looking a little more cheerful. “Not everyone. Leaf can’t take his eyes off you.”

  I hope Leaf’s all right, Ivy thought. If this is about the sapphire, Dad has no reason to suspect him. And he’s not a Wingwatcher. And he’s with Uncle Stone … They’ll take care of each other.

  They reached Foxglove’s door and discovered two of Heath’s men posted outside, scowling. Which was bad, but hopefully meant they hadn’t searched the rooms yet, Ivy told herself.

  “You stay hidden,” she said to Daffodil. “I’ll be right back.”

  “But —” Daffodil started to protest.

  “Shhh,” Ivy said. “If they didn’t start with me, I’m probably not on their list. But you might be, so stay here.”

  Daffodil nodded, drawing back into the shadows. “Be careful,” she whispered.

  Ivy took a deep breath, aimed for the taller guard, and strode up to him, pretending she had all of Foxglove’s confidence.

  “Evening,” she said to the guards. “We need to do a sweep of these rooms.” She pointed to Foxglove’s door.

  “No one’s allowed in until it’s time for the search,” the tall guard grunted. “Not even the Dragonslayer’s daughter, little miss.”

  “Very good,” Ivy said, “but that’s the thing. We think there’s someone already in there. A fugitive she was hiding or someone helping her. If we leave them in there, they could destroy the, ah, the evidence we’re supposed to be looking for.”

  The guards exchanged a troubled glance. “I don’t know,” said the shorter one. “We don’t want to get in trouble.”

  “I’ll take the blame,” Ivy said. “I know you’re just following orders. You can stay out here or come in and help look, either way.”

  “I’ll go in,” said the tall one, tucking his sword away. “You keep an eye on things out here,” he said to his partner.

  She followed him into Foxglove’s tiny cave, which she shared with another Wingwatcher. Ivy could see signs of a struggle in the small living space; there were chairs overturned and a pot of bean stew spilled on the table, still dripping onto the stone floor. The guards must have taken both Foxglove and her roommate. From the shoes scattered by the door, she guessed they hadn’t even let them put anything on their feet. She felt sick to her stomach.

  The guard looked around, frowning. “I don’t see how anyone could be hiding in here,” he said.

  “I’ll check this room,” Ivy said, pointing to the roommate’s cave. “You look in there.” She pointed to Foxglove’s cave, and the guard’s eyes narrowed.

  “No,” he said. “I think you should look in there.” He pointed at Foxglove’s cave. “And I’ll check the other one.”

  Ivy shrugged and went where she was told. As soon as she heard him stomp out of sight into the other room, she dove under Foxglove’s mattress, poked through the straw, found the hole she knew was there, and wiggled the sapphire free. She tucked it into her sleeve and rolled out again, so she was standing upright a moment later when the guard came storming back in.

  “There’s nobody here,” he snarled.

  “Great!” Ivy said. “I didn’t find anyone in here either. What a relief. I told Dad I was sure you guys had done an excellent, thorough job, but he was just worried, you know.”

  “Right,” he said. “Time to get out, then.”

  She nodded and slipped past him, thanking the other guard politely as she went by. The sapphire was clamped in her armpit, which was very uncomfortable. As she walked away, she kept expecting one of them to notice the lump and shout to call her back, but they were busy muttering to each other. Ivy rounded the corner and took her first real breath in a while.

  “Now what do we do with it?” Daffodil whispered.

  “Get it out of Valor,” Ivy said. She wished they had time to go get Leaf, too, but if they were caught with the sapphire, she and Daffodil would both be in the worst trouble of their lives. And she didn’t want to drag Leaf into this. She had to hope he’d be safe for now.

  She secured the sapphire in her belt, took Daffodil’s hand, and ran toward the nearest escape from the underground city.

  Something woke Leaf just before the knock on the door.

  He wasn’t sure what it was — some instinct for danger, perhaps, after his time with the dragonmancers and in the mountain palace. But his eyes popped open and he was lying there with all his muscles tensed when the knock came.

  Stone wandered into the room, yawning. Leaf stood up quietly and Stone paused, sensing his alarm. Leaf pointed at the door and tilted his head, trying to signal: Is this normal? In the middle of the night? Should we be worried?

  A slow frown creased Stone’s forehead. He pointed to a large cabinet in the kitchen. Leaf slipped over to it, took out the bag of grains inside, and squeezed himself into the space as quickly as he could. Stone waited until he was well hidden, and then he opened his front door.

  “What?” he grunted.

  Leaf couldn’t see anything, but he could hear the shuffling of feet in the corridor and shouts echoing from some distance away.

  “We’re looking for the stranger,” growled the voice at the door.

  “What for?” Stone asked, equally surly.

  “To arrest him,” said another voice. “For conspiracy to murder the Dragonslayer.”<
br />
  Leaf managed not to gasp, but his heart felt as if it was flipping inside out. Murder the Dragonslayer! Why would I DO that? I came here for his help! I’ve worshipped him my whole life!

  There was a muffled oof, as though the first man had elbowed the second. “We know he’s here,” said the original voice. “Hand him over, and we’ll go peacefully.”

  “He is here,” Stone said, and Leaf’s heart stopped again. “I just sent him for water. He’ll be back any minute.”

  “Water? At this hour?” said the second voice.

  “Yeah, he used up my whole supply,” Stone grumbled. “Pain in my neck. Glad you’re taking him off my hands.”

  “Should we go look for him at the lake?” asked another guard.

  “Nah, just wait out here,” Stone said. “He’ll be along soon and you can grab him.”

  “You three go to the lake,” ordered the first voice. “The rest of us will wait.”

  “Wonderful,” Stone said flatly. “I’m going to bed.”

  “If he doesn’t show up soon,” said the second voice threateningly, “we’ll be arresting you instead, old man.”

  “Sounds fun, can’t wait,” Stone said, and shut the door in their faces.

  A moment later he yanked open the cabinet and beckoned to Leaf. Leaf crawled out, quietly lifted his pack and his sword, and tiptoed after Stone into the back bedroom.

  He hadn’t been in here, even though he’d been staying at Stone’s for days now. He hadn’t wanted to be nosy or aggravate his host. It was spartanly furnished, like the outer room, but there were large tapestries covering each wall, all of them dark green and woven with patterns of roses in pink, white, and red. Stone crossed to one of these and pulled it aside to reveal a narrow tunnel leading into the wall.

  Leaf raised his eyebrows, but Stone gestured impatiently for him to climb in, so he did. He heard Stone grab something that clinked softly and then follow him.

  Leaf crawled along the tunnel as fast as he could. It curved upward through the earth for a long time, and it wasn’t very wide; Leaf felt as though the dirt was pressing in on him, dark and smothering. He’d always thought he would die in a dragon’s jaws. He’d never imagined he might die buried alive, suffocated by dirt.