The dragon raised her head a few inches above her forelegs and voiced a protest. “Dear One,” she said to Luther, “Thou canst not ask a princess to help with thy . ”
That didn’t seem right to Tessa, so she interrupted with, “Why not?”
Smoke curling up from her nostrils, the dragon raised her head higher still, looked at Tessa for a long moment before she asked, “Thou canst truly hear me, princess? Understand my words?”
She had had all manners of instruction in proper court behavior, but Tessa had never learned the proper form of address for a dragon. Still, she had to answer, Tessa licked her lips and plunged in. “Yes, Your Grace.”
She failed to convince the dragon. “That canst not be. The Chalice of Forgetfulness takes . ”
Lifting her chin, squaring her shoulders, Tessa was every inch the Princess Royal of the Outer Isles when she replied. “I refused the Chalice, Your Grace. I did not drink.”
When she spoke, the dragon’s voice was no less beautiful, if anything it was enhanced by the hope that warmed it. “Thou truly didst not drink? Wouldst thou tell me why? The Princesses of Summer are known for their beauty, not their courage. So, child, why? Why didst thou not drink?”
Her reasons, based on old loves and old pain, were complicated and difficult to explain, but Tessa knew she had to try. “I’m not from Summer. For what it’s worth, I am the Princess Royal of the Outer Isles and I did not drink . I did not drink because . ” Her voice shook itself into silence.
She had to wait a moment, gather her courage, and call on all her old training before she could go on. “I guess it was a matter of honor. My mother always did what had to be done. I wanted to . to be like her. To make her proud of me.
“I didn’t want to . My father was a liar and a thief. My brother a gambler and a cheat. Their acts destroyed my mother and . Someone in my family had to . to act . ” She gulped back the sob that was trying to escape, held herself a little straighter. “Besides, the Chalice is only sham, a magic spell hiding in a cup of watered wine. It wouldn’t have made me for-for . ” The heart pain, the sense of betrayal and loss burned through her, choked her into muteness. She couldn’t go on.
The dragon lifted her triangular head higher. Her voice was as soft and gentle as a mother’s to a beloved child when she spoke. But even the gentleness couldn’t hide the yearning, the terrible hunger, that curled within every word. “I needs must see thee better, knowest thy deepest heart of hearts. Come to me, child.”
Heart pounding, almost mesmerized by the terrible need in the dragon’s voice, Tessa took a step toward where the huge creature waited. Then, even though it was different than any she had experienced before, she recognized it for what it was and wasted no time saying so. “Magic.”
The dragon asked, “Thou canst see the spell?”
“See it?” Narrowing her eyes, she looked hard at the dragon, saw nothing more than a faint shimmer of light, more transparent than the illusion of Luther had been. Tessa could do nothing more than tell the truth.
“No, Your Grace, but I can feel it wrapping around me like silken tendrils, urging me to do as you command. And I can smell it. It’s not like the hot, dank magic of the tunnel, but flowery and sweet. A meadow in springtime sort of odor.”
The dragon’s silver-eyed regard never wavered. She asked, “Canst thou always refuse to do as a magical spell bids thee?”
The potency of the drawing spell increased. Tessa could feel it, but felt no need to move. “Yes, Your Grace,” she said, wanting to add something more, but not knowing exactly what needed saying.
Luther leaped to a conclusion that he thought needed exploration. Coming up behind Tessa, he grabbed her by the shoulders with hurting strength, and whirled her around to face him. His questions came fast, almost too fast for understanding.
“The tunnel? You knew it was magic all the time? Could you have returned to the shore? Gone back the way you came in?”
She didn’t even want to think of that, to think of her brother, all the pain and ugliness that lay at the other end of the tunnel. But neither did she want to lie. But, none the less, her answer came slowly. “Yes, I could have. It isn’t just a tunnel, it’s more like a maze with this place at its center.”
Hesitating for a moment, feeling like her chest was congested, that she couldn’t gulp in enough air, she took a small, unsatisfying breath and went on. “But, to answer your question, yes, if I had wanted to, I could have waited until the priests were gone and then went back to the shore.”
He was far from convinced. “Why didn’t you then?”
“I couldn’t. It wouldn’t have been . I just couldn’t. I had to come here.”
All the scorn he could muster was in his voice when he said, “You just had to come here while thinking your fate was to be eaten by a dragon?”
“Yes.”
“I would not give lie to your words, Princess Tessa, but I find them very difficult to believe.”
“I can’t help that. What I have said is true.”
“No, it cannot be,” he answered. “No sane person would walk so calmly to their doom.”
“Oh,” Tessa said, “what choice did I have?”
If he had an answer, it was lost to the loud cries coming from deeper in the cave. Cries that longer sounded like chirping birds or music, but more like irate females who were demanding something and expecting instant obedience.
Tessa listened intently, managed to decipher something from the outcry.
Luther must have also. He released his hold on her shoulders and turned back to the toward the fireplace.
“Food?” Tessa asked. “The princesses want food?”
“Yes,” Luther answered. Give me a hand with the cooking. The sooner we get them fed, the sooner we can talk. You have a few more answers to give, and I have lots of questions.”
“Dear Heart,” the dragon said, pleading in every word, “I truly must know if there is even a glimmer of hope. I canst not go on if . ”
He turned back to look at the dragon. Pain and pity warring on his face, he shook his head. “No yet. I beg you, wait. I have no more strength to lend you. You cannot do a heart-search, not until you rest and eat.”
“But Princess Tessa may be the one. It takes hours to cook and, dear heart, I-I must know.”
The dragon sounded very weak, and very young. But, what she was saying made very little sense to Tessa, except for the amount of time it took to prepare a meal. That was wrong, and equally perplexing. She stood there a moment before she blurted out what was uppermost in her mind. “Sepeth’s Cauldron produces banquets in seconds. Why are you using it for a cookpot when it . ”
“Are you saying it’s magic?”
He is disbelief was so profound that Tessa lifted her chin, looked at him squarely and said, “Yes.”
“It looks like . How do you know?”
She couldn’t bring herself to mention her mother, or her mother’s pain, but she had to say something, and that something was nothing less than true. “It used to be . My brother, King Harl, took it from . He lost it to one of the Summer kings a year or two ago. I don’t know how it got here.”
“Those idiot priests. They send in treasure. They think Herself wants it and will leave the kingdom alone if they . ”
The shrill cries of the other princesses overpowered his words, sent him into a momentary silence. A silence that only lasted long enough for him to bellow, “Quiet!”
He was almost instantly obeyed. The cries turned to twittering and then became still.
“Feed them, dear heart. They art nothing but spoiled, pampered princesses, poor things. Thou must not maketh them suffer for their ignorance.”
Sounding almost happy, Luther said, “I’ll feed them right now, if Tessa can magic some food out of that black pot.”
For an instant, Tessa remembered the disappointment on her mother’s beautiful face when a much younger Tessa had tried, and failed, to make the kettle magic respond to her orders. But
that was only a minor disappointment, not equal to the one that broke her mother’s heart. When she answered Luther, her voice reflected the memory. “I cannot. It will not . ”
“What lies are . ”
The dragon interrupted. “Nay, thou must not question her word. The magic canst not see her; it wilt not go where she sends it.”
Stepping around the huge man, Tessa walked toward the hearth. “It will not do as I ask, but I can tell you the way of it. You have magic. It will do as you command.”
“Wait, child, before thy go to thy tasks, I would thee tell me true.” The dragon waited a moment and then asked, “What seest thou when the lookest on Luther? Is he handsome to thy seeing?”
Not sure how to answer, but knowing somehow that the truth was important, she spoke hesitantly but only the truth. “No, Your Grace. He is a big man, terribly scarred. He . I think he was one a slave. A slave that was whipped more than once.”
The dragon was silent for several heart beats, and then the silence was broken by the dragon’s soft sigh. A sigh that had a pleased sound, but sent smoke curling out of both the dragon’s nostrils.
“Oh, hurry, dear heart,” she said, her words almost a song of joy, “feed the princesses in all haste. We needs must talk. Time is running quickly, but if what I think is true, there may yet be a glimmer of hope for us all.”
Luther knew the cauldron’s secret in short order and put it to work with imagination and hunger, producing viands to delight the most delicate of princess appetites.
Carrying her share of the meal, Tessa went with him to feed the other princesses. And was hard put not to weep when she first saw them. “Oh,” she whispered, “the poor . ”
“Hush,” he hissed warningly. “We will speak of this later.”
Tessa obeyed, but her throat ached when she looked at the women. Their crowns and jewels were real, but their gowns were tattered rags, their beds a scatter of rugs on the sandy floor, and their bright chatter senseless.
It was easy to see that they had, despite Luther’s efforts to the contrary, been hungry more often than they had been fully fed. Even though they took their meals on golden plates, they were almost as skinny as the dragon.
The women, seeing something invisible to Tessa, fluttered and preened around Luther, but because Tessa wore no magic guise, the princesses took her to be a drudge and begged to have her as their maid.
And Tessa, instead of being insulted, felt only pity, profound pity, and a growing anger. The women in the dragon’s treasure room had done nothing to deserve their fate, nothing except being born princesses.
They pouted when Luther smiled, shook his head at their pleas, and motioned for Tessa to come with him back to the outer chamber. She waited until they were safely there before she broke her silence with, “Poor things. To think their kings and priests are so terrified by the dragon that they would do this to their own flesh and blood.
Luther spoke gruffly. “Don’t worry so, Tessa. They’re happy. Herself casts strong spells. To their seeing, they wear beautiful gowns, live in a magnificent palace, sleep on satin sheets.”
Tessa wasn’t convinced. “But, I could smell the magic. I know it isn’t real, except for the treasure, of course.”
“Aye, that’s real enough. There’s more than enough to refurbish a dozen kingdoms, dower a thousand princesses. For all the good it does them, or us.”
There didn’t seem to be anything more that needed saying. So, they fed the dragon first, but as they sat at their own meal, Tessa felt her weariness drop on her like the curtain of night drops on the weary earth. In the weeks since her mother had cursed the Outer Isles and become a shade, to haunt what she had loved and lost, Tessa had wept far more than she had slept. Now she could barely keep her eyes open.
She yawned, and could only smile, gratefully, at Luther when a fetched a rug, handed to her. “I think you would sleep better out here than back with the other princesses,” he said.
He would get no argument from her. “Where?”
“Over by Herself. She can do the heart-search while you sleep. It will do nothing to cause you pain or take you from your rest. This I swear.”
She should have been afraid, but somehow she wasn’t—or maybe she was just too tired to care. Whatever the reason, Tessa spread her rug beside the dragon, curled up on it, and was asleep.
Dawn was pouring silvery light through the mouth of the cave when their soft voices woke her. Still groggy, Tessa allowed their words to eddy and drift beyond her knowing until she became the object of the conversation. Then, she became instantly alert.
The dragon said, “She canst lead thee out of this place, dear heart.”
“And then,” Luther asked. “My magic is small enough at best. Could it find . ”
“I fear not,” the dragon said, sadness strong in her voice. “The Pearl of Knowing carries its own magic glamour. No human eyes canst pierce its disguise, see it for what it truly is.”
“The Princess Tessa is different. She saw the other princesses as they are. Maybe she could find . ”
Tessa sat up, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She could see Luther sitting beside the dragon’s created head, talking softly, and she saw no reason to pretend she hadn’t been listening. “Find what?”
The dragon was quicker than the man. “Nay, princess, thou must not query. My need is great, but I canst not ask thee to risk thy life for me.”
“Risk it how? Doing what?”
“Please, do not ask, I beg thee. It is of no avail. It cannot be.”
Interrupting almost rudely, Luther had his say in a voice that held only sadness and care. “What other choice do you have?”
That said, he heaved his bulk up, and with his hands clenched at his sides, he stalked over to the fireplace. Shoulders hunched, he stood there for a long moment before he knelt and began slamming things around, raising a din, showing his feelings without words.
“Dear heart,” the dragon said, her beautiful voice sad, “do not fret so.”
The noise stopped. He turned his head, looked only at Tessa, and there was a world of sorrow in his voice when he spoke. “She’s dying, princess. She needs to fly free, go back to her own land, her own people, and she can’t.”
“Dear one, I beg thee desist. The child hast suffered more than enough. Thee must not do this, must not add this perilous task to the princess’ burden.”
She did not want to say it. She did not want to have anything to do with whatever it was Luther was planning. But, in her own way, the dragon was as pitiful as the princesses and Tessa knew she had to do everything in her power to help them all. She didn’t even to stop to think before she said, looking only at Luther, “I don’t want anyone to die. What can I do to keep that from happening?”
“Perhaps nothing, but if we don’t try, she will surely die and I . Princess Tessa, help her, please.”
“How? What do I have to do?”
Luther stood, turned slowly, faced the dragon. “Tell her,” he said, his voice nothing more than a harsh whisper. “Tell the princess about the Pearl of Knowing. Your great need. Tell her everything and let her decide.”
“No, dear heart, leave be. The quest is fraught with danger and she is scarcely more than a child. I cannot.”
Luther would not be denied. He walked across the sandy floor, confronted the great beast, and made his demands known in a loud voice. “Tell her! Tell her now!”
The dragon’s shuddery breath shook her entire body and her voice was rich with pleading when she said, “I needs must think on this. I swore an oath of honor to protect all the princess sent to me. I wouldst not send one forth to perish for my sake. Go into the outer world, I beg thee, Luther. Take the Princess Tessa with thee. Allow me some small space of time alone.”
“If that be your wish.” Luther gave a small bow in the dragon’s direction, motioned for Tessa to follow him out onto the jutting ledge. Then, without a word, his ruined face set, determined, he took her hand and led her down t
he sharp-edged obsidian stair. Releasing her when they walked through the Dragon Gate at the base of the stair.
It was barely dawn, but the summer heat had pooled in the bottom of the canyon, hiding in the shadows, bringing the princess to an instant sweat. She wiped the beads from her forehead and followed the man, practically running to keep up with his rapid pace.
He stopped abruptly, looked at the shiny black of the canyon walls, and then shook his head in all too obvious frustration. “All right. Where is it?”
“Where is what?”
“The tunnel? Can you see its mouth?”
It seemed an odd question when what he sought was only a pace or two beyond him, but she nodded, pointed to where it waited.
“It’s not . ” Luther stopped, asked another question. “Can you go in?”
Seeing nothing that would stop her, Tessa stepped around him and into the tunnel. It was still the same: hot, lit by some unseen light, and smelling strongly of magic. Not sure what he wanted of her, she walked several steps inward before she returned to where he waited without.
He looked about half sick, but there was only strong emotion in his voice when he said, “If you can take me in, then . Princess, I can’t stand by and let her die. She saved my life and . ”
Tessa thought she understood. “And you love her?”
Clearing his throat, Luther said, “Yes, I do.” Then his voice hardened, took on new purpose. “Now, take me in.”
It wasn’t an easy task and by the time it was finished the huge man was trembling violently. But despite his fear, he moved forward with his eyes closed, trusting her to lead him within the walls of the bespelled tunnel. Then he stumbled, fell against a side wall, and opened his eyes. And screamed out his terror. “I . I can’t . It’s crushing me. I can’t!”
Tessa yelled, “Shut your eyes!”
She tried to get to him, to make him obey. He was too frightened to even breathe. He cowered down, gasped for breath, and paid absolutely no attention to her shouts. Tessa reached out, put her hands over his eyes ands practically screamed, “Luther! Luther! It can’t hurt you! It’s an illusion!”
The Dragon of Summer Page 3
