The Dragon of Summer

by Patricia White

  Gradually, he came to senses, sighed heavily, and replaced her blinding hands with his own. He was still shaking and sweating when he finally regained enough composure to speak. “I-I thought it was crushing me and . Sorry I . Sorry.”

  Speaking calmly, urging him forward, Tessa finally managed to lead him back to the canyon proper. When she released her hold on his arm, he sort of staggered forward a step, hunkered down, swallowed a time or two, and finally managed to croak out, “How could you stand it? Weren’t you afraid?”

  Before she could ask, “Afraid of what?” the dragon stuck her head of the dragon lair and called softly, “Dear heart, please come back. We needs must talk. Mythorne, the King of Summer is calling in foreign wizards to rid his land of-of-of me. I am too weak. I canst not withstand this new assault.”

  Luther leaped to his feet, ran toward the zigzag stair. Tessa followed more slowly. He was near the top, but the princess was only about halfway up when the dragon spoke anew, spoke with sorrow underlying every word. “The Pearl speaketh even now, telling me of their dastardly plans. There will be naught I can do to forestall them.”

  Gasping for breath, barely able to talk, Luther said, “Nay, do not despair. The princess can take me through the tunnel. We will find the Pearl, set you free. Won’t we, Princess Tessa?”

  Tessa hadn’t a clue as to what was expected of her, what she could do to help save the dragon’s life. She didn’t even know enough to be afraid of the task he set before her. Toiling up the steep stair, she nodded. Then, realizing no one could see her, she sealed her fate with a few breathless words. “Yes, Your Grace, we will do just that.”

  The dragon was too weak and too distraught to argue with Luther. In no time, after making a few hurried arrangements, such as teaching the dragon the secrets of Sepeth’s Cauldron and making sure she could care for the princesses while they were gone, Luther and Tessa went back into the tunnel.

  With a strip of rag tied around his eyes to blind him to the tunnel’s illusions, shaking and sweating, Luther was a sorry sight. But when they reached the other side, he would be well-hidden from all eyes but Tessa’s beneath the glamour the dragon had spelled upon him.

  Bedraggled and dirty, wearing only the tunic and sandals she had arrived in, Tessa had to go as herself. She would still be only that when they exited, but that problem was one they would have to solve later.

  Other problems were more important at the moment: his growing fear and her ignorance. Those problems had to be solved at once, if they were going to go on, do whatever it was that needed doing.

  Trembling, slick with sweat, his huge hand gripped hers with painful strength. Tessa knew he was desperately in need of succor, even before he whispered, “Help me, princess. We have to save Herself, but . This is killing me.”

  “How? Why are you so afraid?”

  He hesitated, made several false starts, and finally, as if confessing some secret shame, began. “Once, when . I was a slave and . They sent me into the tin mines. Deep into the earth and . and . ”

  He couldn’t go on, but Tessa thought she understood the reason behind his terrible fear. Thinking to help him, she asked, “There was a cave-in?”

  “Yes,” he whispered, his voice dark with memories. “The whole mountain fell on us.”

  To break the silence that followed, she asked, “You were trapped?”

  “Yes. For eight days. The other slaves . They screamed and cried and . And, one by one, they died. I was alone in the dark and cold.”

  It wasn’t good princess manners, but Tessa needed to keep him talking and walking, so she asked the first question that came to her mouth, “Is that what happened to your face?”

  “My face and my courage. Both were ruined.”

  “But you came through the tunnel before, didn’t you? You weren’t afraid then, were you?” She knew he had to have entered the maze somehow, and wasn’t sure it really mattered. But keeping him walking, did matter—and when he talked he walked. When he finally answered, he told her far more than she expected.

  “I was a king’s son,” he said, still sounding a little breathless. “The fifth son and wearing the bar sinister. My father was kind, wanted to give me a future if not a kingdom. It was determined that I had some small talent in matters arcane and was set to studying with a wizard. We, my teacher and I, ventured far, too far. We were captured by raiders. He was killed. I was sold into slavery. Broken in the mines. Sold again.

  “Princess, I wasn’t a very obedient slave. After the last beating, I broke free and ran. The tunnel was there and I . That’s when the dragon . ”

  “She found you?” The skirt she had dropped during her first journey through the tunnel blocked their path. Not daring to let him stop, she kicked it aside and led him on. But not before the magic stench of the tunnel had irritated the inside of her nose, made her sneeze.

  If he even heard it, Luther ignored the small interruption and continued his tale. “She was . Herself was on her maiden flight when a storm drove her off course. It was a terrible storm. Lightning. Wind. While she fought to stay aloft, she dropped the Pearl of Knowing. Lost it.

  “While she was searching for it, she was seen by some of the nobles of Summer.” He stopped, gasped for breath, and was silent.

  “Was that before or after you came through the tunnel?”

  His voice shook when he said, “Two princesses before. How much farther to the end? By all the gods, I can’t . ”

  He stopped talking to again gasp for breath, sounding like he was in danger of dying from the force of his own fear. His hand was so wet with sweat Tessa had difficulty holding it to lead his lagging steps forward. When she saw the Veils of Sacrifice she had thrown away earlier, she had a moment of near panic. She didn’t dare allow him to stop, even for the few seconds it would take to kick the thick tangle of veils out of their path. She could only warn him in advance and hope that he had enough wits left to understand what she was telling him.

  “Luther, listen to me.” She spoke slowly, carefully. “When the priests sent me in, I was veiled, but it was so hot I took them off. The veils are lying on the floor of the tunnel. Lift your feet so you don’t fall.” She chanced a quick look at his face and added, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  He nodded dumbly.

  Taking a breath of her own—and trying to keep from sneezing from the rank magic in the tunnel—she tried to goad him into speech, hoping that would keep him moving. “Don’t stop talking, Luther. Tell me the rest. Come on, it isn’t far to the other end and I need to know about the Pearl and you and everything.”

  And it was true. She did need to know. At the moment, she was not only worried sick about Luther, she was also worried about the task they had given themselves. It was a task she didn’t, as yet, completely understand. No, she thought wryly, tugging the big man through the maze, it’s a task I don’t understand at all. I’m almost as blind as to what we must do as I am to magic. Maybe blinder, I can smell magic.

  He interrupted her thoughts with, “Princess, help me. Even if I can’t see, the magic is still whispering at me, telling me of the horrors around us. I d-don’t know how m-m-much longer I can resist.”

  She wasn’t sure either, but she thought she knew how to give him back some of his strength. “I’m telling you this, Luther, if you surrender to the magic without telling me what I need to know, the dragon will die. Is that what you want?”

  It was the right thing to say. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. Sweat still poured down his ruined face, but he straightened his back, lifted his chin, and began to tell her what had transpired those many years gone.

  “I was badly beaten, burning with fever, out of my head with pain when Herself found me in the valley. Her magic was strong then, strong enough to heal me. And when I was able to stay alone, to help with the care of the princesses, Herself searched anew for the Pearl of Knowing.”

  His pace didn’t slow, but he said nothing more for such a long ti
me that Tessa felt an urgent need to prod him anew. “She couldn’t find it?”

  “Oh, she found it right enough. But she couldn’t get it. She still can’t—and without it she will die.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s her guide, princess. It’s the only way she has of finding her way home.”

  “No, I meant why she couldn’t get it? Where is it?”

  He walked a little faster. “In King Mythorne’s castle.”

  “How do you know?”

  She heard him take in a quick breath and swallow hard before he answered. “It talks to herself, after a fashion, anyway. She can hear everything that’s being said around the Pearl.”

  Luther sound stronger, less afraid, but what he was saying was adding new fear to her life. If she was following what he was saying, then he expected her to waltz into the castle, find the Pearl of Knowing, and waltz out again. It plainly wasn’t possible. And, if he was, in all truth, a king’s son, then he would know it as well as she did. No stranger could just walk into the castle, wander around, take what they wanted, and leave. No, indeed.

  But she wasn’t about to say anything until they were out of the tunnel. Luther was too big to antagonize—and the last thing she wanted was for him to pull off the blindfold and go fear-crazy like he had done before.

  His next words gave her a new worry, albeit, smaller than the rest. “This place twists and turns until I’m dizzy. If we don’t get out soon, I fear I am going to disgrace us both.”

  That would only delay them more, she sought frantically for another topic, one that would send his thoughts in a new direction. “Is that how you knew about my brother’s gambling? Did the Pearl tell the dragon?”

  “Yes, about him losing you and the Outer Isles to Mythorne. Mythorne was really angry when he discovered . The Isles really are haunted, aren’t they? By a beautiful woman who walks the beaches and weeps?”

  She didn’t want to talk about that, but there seemed to be no other course of action. She had to tell him the truth, and maybe the telling would ease the pain, dry the tears that still lurked behind her eyes, clogged her throat.

  “Yes, my mother . After Harl stole Sepeth’s Cauldron and lost it, my mother . She loved Harl very much, far more than she ever loved me.”

  He spoke gently, but sounded a little surprised, as if he were unused to thinking a princess might have real sorrow in her life, too. “You don’t have to tell me this, Tessa.”

  “I know, but you told . Luther, Harl betrayed my mother, betrayed us all, lost everything. My mother . The pain was more than she could bear. She killed herself. She was a sorceress and the spell she set is strong, strong enough to keep everyone out of the kingdom except me and my brother, Harl, who was . They say she walks, but I can’t see her.

  “I love her, but I will never see her again.”

  The went slowly on, moving through the murky, magic saturated tunnel, and were nearing the end when Luther said, “Princess, I . ”

  She stopped with a whispered warning. “Hush, I think there’s someone . ”

  They stopped, stood, hand in hand, practically holding their breath, until whoever or whatever had been making noise was no longer audible. Then, with utmost caution, she eased forward until she could stick her head out of the tunnel, look around.

  “Well?” he asked, impatience growling through the word.

  Tessa didn’t answer at once. She couldn’t. She was too busy staring at what lay beyond the tunnel. She knew the stone dock was there and the sea. But she had come to Summer smothered in black veils that reduced her vision to a dark haze. And the fear she had been drowning in was so great it washed away all else.

  Now, a new fear gibbered at her, but her vision was clear, too clear. There was no way they could exit the tunnel without being seen. She pulled her head back into the tunnel and told him what he wanted to know. “There’s a village out there. People. Dogs. Children. How are we going to . ”

  He was so eager to escape from the confines of the tunnel that it took away his common sense. “The glamour I wear is . Herself gave me the seeming of a servant, a man no one would notice. We can slip out and . ”

  His lack of comprehension irritated Tessa. “Sure,” she said, “you can slip out and mingle, but what about me? If I go around dressed in just a dirty tunic, someone is sure to notice. And then what will happen?”

  “Oh, I never . Tessa, I’ll go first, get you something to wear and come back. It won’t be a problem. We have more than enough of Herself’s gold to buy . ”

  She interrupted with, “That’s another thing we have to worry about.”

  “What?”

  “Our names. They sent me through the tunnel yesterday, they have to know my name. And you are Luther the Guardian of the Dragon Gate.”

  “Aye, that’s true. I guess we need a plan, don’t we?”

  “We probably need a lot more than a plan, but even a small one would certainly help.”

  “Clothes first, and then we’ll plan.” He took a breath and added, “Outside.”

  He pulled his hand free from hers and bolted for the exited, was gone before Tessa could say another word. She stared after him for a long moment and then sat down on the floor, leaned back again a wall and tried to do some planning on her own—and discarded each one before it was scarcely born.

  Perhaps she dozed, or perhaps her mental gyrations had taken far longer than she thought, for by the time Luther returned, stood outside the tunnel mouth, and whispered her name, it was late afternoon. Her stomach was growling with hunger. Thirst burned in her throat. She was drenched with sweat from the terrible heat inside the tunnel. She was far from happy when she poked her head and arm out, took the dark green garments he shoved into her hand, and retreated back into the privacy of the tunnel.

  Nose wrinkling at the horrible stench the hooded robe held in its very fiber—the stench of magic, old magic, new magic, magic gone awry—Tessa pulled it on. Sneezing a time or two, and trying not to breathe too deeply, she hitched the robe up, blousing it out over the rope cincture. It was large enough to fit Luther, but its green folds covered her far smaller frame from head to foot and made her look far bulkier than she actually was. It wasn’t the sort of garment she would have chosen, and she was pretty sure that it was going to get them into more trouble than they could handle. When she emerged from the tunnel, Tessa wasted no time telling Luther what she thought of his choice.

  “What on earth made you . These are wizard’s robes. No one but wizards are allowed to wear them in any of the nine kingdoms. Where did you buy them? I didn’t think it was possible . ”

  “Princess, I-I couldn’t find . The markets are all closed today. To honor the sacrifice, they said, but I think it’s more than that. They were out and about this morning, but now the villagers are hiding in their houses. Guards, with magecats and sniffers, are everywhere.”

  His voice dropped to a whisper. “There’s been four or five wizard duels to the death. That’s where I got your robe. It won’t be missed, you can bet on that.”

  It took a few seconds for his words to make sense, to tell her that no matter what he said, trouble was waiting for them. Bad trouble. “You stole them? Oh, but what if the guards . ”

  As if summoned by her words, one of King Mythorne’s red-clad guards stepped from behind a concealing screen of brush, confronted them, and gave his orders. “Come along.”

  Tessa stammered out a single word. “But . ”

  He stared down at her, but his voice was stern when he said, “You wizards. A body’d think ya could no read. ‘Tis the king who called ya. To His Majesty ya’ll go.”

  His helm flashing in the dying sunlight, the odor of his protection spells reeking of magic, he prodded them across the black sand with a poke of two of his halberd. He limited his poking to Luther, never touching her. It was easy to see he believed poking wizards carried a heavy penalty—a belief fostered by wizards since the beginning of time.

  Any hope they might h
ave had of escaping was dashed when three more guards joined the first one, all eager to be a part of the prisoner parade. All seemed to be giving each other courage, enough so that one mustered enough bravery to shove Tessa forward when a toe caught on a stone in the path and she stumbled. Luther grabbed her, kept her erect, and he didn’t hesitate to make his displeasure known. “Leave be, you dastardly villains. My master has traveled far to be of service to your king. She will . ”

  The guard wasn’t impressed. “We’ll let the king decide that, knave.”

  Another guard snickered and said, “Likely your tame wizard’ll be cinders and ash before this day is done. Or food for the magecats.”

  The rest of the guards added their mocking laughter to his as they forced Tessa and Luther to walk a little faster.

  Fairly caught, without a plan or new names to call their own, Luther and Tessa went with the King’s Guard without argument. Not that they had a choice.

  And they still had no choice when they were marched through the silent village, up the hill, across the drawbridge spanning a scummy moat, and through the iron-bound gates of the black castle. Tall, straight, with the seeming of being carved from a single stone, the castle walls were surmounted by drooping pennants, archers, with bows drawn, arrows nocked, close-ranked behind the parapet, and an ominous, forbidding air in the growing twilight.

  In the courtyard, just beyond the curtain wall, King Mythorne, and a gaggle of court wizards and black-clad priests, waited to greet them. But not one of the contingent was smiling and no one extended a cup of welcome.

  The Palace Guard, somber in black and gold, short swords and shields ready to protect their king, formed a semi-circle behind the monarch.

  Wearing some sort of glittering chain of office, carrying a long ebon staff, a single man, resplendent in crimson, stepped forward, looked quizzically at Tessa’s captors. The, without asking a single question, he nodded to the guards and banged his staff against the paving stone that covered the courtyard. As if it signaled the opening of the curtain, the action began.