Heart of Dragons

by Meg Cowley

Far above him, the castle walls rose, but for a well practiced climber, they were easy to scale. Aedon liked to think he could get anywhere a mountain goat could – and then some. Even so, the trip was perilous and fraught with danger, for if anyone happened to look upon the walls, he would be exposed as quickly as an insect upon a window. With the calculated mind of an experienced thief, he used the shadows of trees and houses to conceal his climb before forcing his screaming, straining joints and muscles to haul him over the lip and into the gardens on the other side.

  Aedon leapt into the dark, safe arms of the tree branches before stilling to survey his surroundings. It had been decades since he had last come to this part of the palace – as an honoured guest, no less. He pushed the thought from his mind and gritted his teeth as he slipped down the tree trunk to stalk through the once familiar terraces of the royal gardens.

  It was a part of the royal quarters that was seldom guarded. Who could scale such a wall? In the king’s arrogance was his weakness. Aedon still despised Toroth just as much as always, though he had once been the king’s most favourite and trusted pet.

  Through the palace he crept, avoiding wards and guards with ease, following the growing pull of the dagger.

  Then he saw her, though it took a moment longer than normal to register her presence. He ducked into the shadows and pressed against the wall as they passed. Aedon’s mouth hung open and his mind pounded with questions.

  How has Harper come by such fine clothing? Why is she not rotting in a dungeon, as any thief ought to be?

  In fact, she looked more like a guest, as if she belonged there, wearing the very king’s livery herself. Yet the bruises blooming across her face were not lost upon him. The sight stirred anger in his belly.

  And Dimitrius... She walked beside him as an equal, seemingly without fear. Aedon chanced a glance and watched their retreating backs with disbelief. She walked freely, without restraints – magical or otherwise. Her back was ramrod straight, and his miniscule glimpse of her face had shown a serious visage. There had been a faint hint of naïveté, a feeling of lostness, that seemed much more like the Harper he knew, but he could not be sure that he had not imagined it.

  Suspicion uncurled in his stomach. Did she lie to us all along? Was I wrong about her? Do they know each other?

  It had not seemed to be the case when they had met Dimitrius in the woods. Aedon watched as he placed a gentle hand upon Harper’s back and guided her around a corner. She did not shirk away, but smiled at him. It was tight-lipped and serious, but a smile nonetheless.

  They are far more familiar now than ought to be the case.

  Aedon’s feet moved of their own accord, sneaking after Harper and Dimitrius, pulled by curiosity and a burning need to understand what was happening.

  They halted outside the king’s audience chamber. Aedon, shrouded in wards, dared not approach or follow them farther. For the first time, he saw Harper look up at Dimitrius with worry. He answered with a smile of reassurance and a light touch on her arm, before the guards opened the door and the two entered.

  What is she doing with that slimy, two-faced bastard?

  Aedon normally considered himself an excellent judge of character and an almost infallible detector of lies. Harper had seemed entirely honest when she had been with them. Yet she seemed to be living another life here.

  Which Harper is the real one? he wondered. He dared not ask himself the greater question. None of it made any sense.

  The doors boomed shut behind them, leaving Aedon with only his raging thoughts and dumbfounded disbelief.

  Was I taken for a fool?

  Forty-Nine

  The king was nowhere to be found in the great hall. The throne stood there, empty and cold, with only an elf standing at its foot. At the lack of the king’s presence, Harper’s growing anxiety cooled a little. Even so, she had no idea what to expect.

  The man turned as they entered. “Lord Ellarian, the king requests her presence in his personal study.”

  Dimitrius frowned. “And myself?”

  “Your presence is not required, Lord.”

  Dimitrius paused. “Very well.” He turned and nodded to Harper, his expression inscrutable, but she was certain she saw a flicker of fear, which was swiftly covered, that did not aid her own confidence.

  “I will be with you in spirit,” he spoke into her mind. “Do not fear. You are not yet beyond my protection.”

  His protection.

  It sent a thrill of something she could not identify through her. She supposed fear, that she needed it, and relief, that she had some lifeline.

  She had no choice but to follow the king’s man, with Dimitrius left waiting in the shadows of the great hall, staring after her.

  The king’s study was surprisingly small and cold. The minute fire in the grate did nothing to warm Harper’s limbs and the chill that slowly crept through her.

  “Your Majesty.” Harper bowed as low as she could.

  “Sit.” His voice was abrupt, and as cold as his surroundings.

  She took a seat obediently, sinking onto the hard, wooden chair, not daring to recline against the back. Her gaze flicked from the king to the floor, uncertain where she ought to look. She settled on the floor, picking a small spot between the stone slabs to meticulously examine.

  Toroth remained standing, prowling around the space like a wolf waiting to pounce. Harper felt like a rabbit, frozen and trapped in his baleful glare.

  “You are not from Pelenor, are you? You do not speak Pelenori, and your Common Tongue holds a strange accent.”

  “No, sire.” At his silence, and his expectant glare, she continued. “I am from Caledan.”

  “That is very far away. How did you come to be in Pelenor? Surely your failure to learn our tongue hinders you.”

  “The way an orphan does, sire,” she replied, as Dimitrius had told her. “I have travelled to many places, most of which I do not know the names, until I arrived here and Lord Ellarian took me into his employ. I have worked for him ever since.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why you?”

  “I–I don’t know, sire. I only know that he spotted me and I fit the task he wished me to complete—”

  “Which was?”

  “To follow a man, unseen, and report back.”

  “What sort of tasks do you complete for him?”

  “Following people, reporting, sending messages and retrieving them, infiltration...”

  “Infiltration of?” Toroth asked sharply, circling closer.

  Harper sat up straighter. “I blend in wherever Lord Ellarian requires me. In this case, a thief and his outlaws.”

  It was easier not to call Aedon by name, to be as cold as the king. If she thought of them too much, she was sure she would crumple and all would be lost.

  “Tell me everything. I want to know precisely how you infiltrated the criminals that have eluded me for so long.”

  Harper wet her lips nervously and forced her hands to lay flat upon her knees, though she longed to fuss with them. Her clammy palms seemed to fuse to the fabric.

  “Keep going, Harper,” Dimitrius’s voice floated into her mind, and she saw his disembodied smile. “You’re doing brilliantly.” At his words, the tension building in her shoulders relaxed just a little.

  “Yes, sire. Lord Ellarian tasked me with recovering an item of great value that was suspected to be with them. I followed them for days, ascertaining that they did indeed have the item – your item.

  “I used one of my stories to gain their trust. I pretended I was far from home, lost, and without means to provide for myself. They took me in—”

  “So easily?” Toroth interrupted sharply.

  “No, sire. Some were deeply suspicious, but I ingratiated myself with the weakest of their members, those most susceptible to my story. It did take a couple of weeks to fully gain their trust, travelling with them, listening to their conversations, giving them small favours and reason to include me in their business. I did not
get far, but far enough.”

  “Then you took it?”

  “Not quite, sire. Lord Ellarian was most insistent that I could not afford to fail. It was of utmost importance I not act too soon for fear of spooking them and losing your treasure forever. Besides which, it was clear I have neither magic nor strength to overcome the elf and his companions, some of whom are fearsome warriors.”

  The king scoffed at that.

  “When they fell soft on me, charmed by my vulnerability, I wormed my way into taking the night watch. After a few nights, I took the stone from under their noses and brought it to Lord Ellarian at once.”

  The king laughed, a cold, mirthless bark. “I would not have thought it possible a scrawny thing like you could retrieve a treasure not even my entire Winged Kingsguard could find.”

  “Yet here I am, sire,” Harper dared to say.

  “Here you are indeed. Well, let it never be said that I do not reward those who are loyal to me. I have a gift for you, girl.” Toroth nodded to a servant, who walked up with a bundle in his arms.

  Harper stood to receive it, awkwardly juggling the item in her arms.

  “Open it.”

  Harper unfolded the soft, grey fabric to reveal a thick cloak of a quality wool and weave, lined with delicate fur that would keep out any winter chill. The finely crafted silver clasp was a sigil matching her tunic – a mountain over trees and under stars.

  “It is beautiful, sire,” she said in a hushed voice, not sure what else to say.

  “I thank you for your boundless generosity. I am unworthy,” Dimitri whispered into her mind. She repeated the words to Toroth, who seemed satisfied at her humility.

  “Do you know what the crest you wear means, girl?”

  “No, sire. I apologise.”

  “You ought to know what you wear,” he said, frowning, and sending a stinging glare Dimitrius’s way. “I shall have words with Lord Ellarian, who obviously does not educate his people properly.”

  Harper winced, but Dimitrius’s voice was cool. “Don’t worry. I’ve been in worse trouble. I’ll be fine.”

  Sorry, she thought, hoping he would hear it.

  He pointed to the crest. “This is Pelenor, throughout time, and I. We are the mountain – strong and unyielding, born of the earth and reaching for the sky. We are the tree – life and vitality ever thriving. We are the stars – everlasting in our beauty and power, always enduring.” Toroth stood tall, filled with his own esteem.

  Harper dithered. Am I supposed to say something?

  “Stoke his ego,” Dimitrius replied with a sigh. “Tell him how strong and powerful he is and always shall be, or some such dragon-turd sentiment.”

  “You are all of those things indeed, sire,” she said dutifully to the king. “I am honoured to have an audience with you.”

  “Yes, you are. Perhaps we shall speak again.” She did not like how his eyes, his cold, dark eyes, fixed upon her with a hunger that had not been satisfied, but he turned away after a second, leaving her containing a sigh of relief. “You are dismissed. I have other business to attend to.”

  It was clear from the way his gaze had lingered that he did not wish to finish with her then, but she was glad for the interruption of his next business. She bowed and was escorted out. When she returned to the great hall, Dimitri met her with a tight-lipped smile of relief.

  “Come,” he said coldly, then turned without another word. The hall had started filling with others – lords, ladies, and every manner of servant. Harper stared after him for a moment, wondering what she had done to earn his coldness, before hurriedly dodging through the throng before she lost him amongst the bobbing heads.

  She chased his long strides all the way back to his quarters, down cold galleries and passages, which would have had her lost in a heartbeat, until she espied the familiar door with relief.

  Dimitrius closed it behind them and leaned against it, his eyes closed. Harper waited.

  He finally sighed and opened his eyes, looking at Harper with tired relief. “You did very well, Harper. Just as we planned. The king is placated, though I sense he is not done yet. We shall deal with him as it arises.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her blank stare. “I apologise for being so cold, but you must understand. Out there, I have a façade to present, a reputation to uphold.”

  “But you’re sweet and kind behind closed doors?” she added with a bite of sarcasm.

  In a flash, he was upon her, backing her to the wall and jabbing a finger into her chest. “Do you not realise how hard I’m working to keep us both alive right now?” His eyes flashed with anger.

  With him suddenly so close, she felt a swoop of surprise, fear, and uncertainty, and something unfamiliar – exhilaration – as his sweet, citrus scent surrounded her.

  “You have no idea of the danger we are both in, Harper...from all sides. We do not leave the palace because we are not permitted. I am not permitted.” His nostrils flared, and his violet eyes ensnared her gaze.

  “If even the slightest whiff of any of this escaped, we would be worse than dead. So I will act however I damn well need to in order to make sure I survive, as I always have. You’re welcome to your freedom once this is done, but for now, we have an act to play. So be done with playing the innocent, naïve girl and start running with me. Stop being so open. We can all read you like a book. You might not know this court, but I do. Be more cold and calculating, like the rest of us, even if it is just on the surface; otherwise, we will never leave this palace alive.”

  He stormed away, leaving her pressed against the wall and blinking after him. She realized she was not breathing, so she gulped in a deep breath before letting it whoosh out.

  This place is full of secrets, lies, and games – with people’s lives. How do I survive it?

  THEY ATE DINNER IN silence. Harper picked at the fine foods, but the succulent meats melting on her tongue and the berries bursting with juices had no taste. It was undoubtedly the finest of fares she had ever eaten, but it was hard to enjoy.

  Part of it awoke a yearning within her to live this life, to be able to enjoy such food every day. Was it not everything she had dreamed of in Caledan? She was safe, warm, and fed. More so than she had ever been. It was hard not to wish for more. She had also never been so clean or worn such fine clothes made of materials so warm and soft they kissed her skin like lips. She had truly not felt the bite of the autumn chill since arriving.

  At the same time, the more she partook of this other life – the food, the strange politics, the confinement of the luxurious palace – the more she longed to escape back into the woods. It was a harder life, but a simpler one. One where she knew the woodlands and the animals and her own land. One where she could lose herself in nature until she was at one with the earth. One where she did not feel as out of place as a fish up a tree.

  I’m a nobody and meant to stay that way. I’m not meant for these schemes, this place. All their words have hidden agendas. I don’t know what anyone truly wants.

  It was impossible not to think of Aedon and his companions, out beyond the tall walls and stone of Tournai, living the life she had imagined, adventuring without restraint.

  Life was so much simpler. I miss them. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. I’ve been so foolish. The irony was not lost on her. The criminal seemed more trustworthy than the king. They all have far more integrity than Toroth. Though she could still not figure out Dimitrius’s true agenda. He seemed so despisable, yet helps me now. What does he want?

  “Are you all right?” His voice broke through her reverie and she jumped, clattering cutlery on the table and knocking a knife to the floor.

  Harper bent to retrieve it with burning cheeks. “Sorry. Fine. Just thinking.”

  “Coin for your thoughts?”

  “Oh, nothing. Just...” She sighed, “wishing I had never come here.”

  Dimitrius regarded her solemnly. “Truly?”

  “Yes. It’s a hopeless case, returning ho
me. They warned me. I should have listened. I thought I would find a benevolent king, but instead, I—”

  “I would not finish that thought aloud,” Dimitrius said lightly. “Ears everywhere, even here sometimes. I know what you mean. I did not think it would be this way, either.”

  “It?”

  He gestured around. “The court.” He sighed, and his next words spoke into her mind. “I thought this would be a place of fair rule, a pinacle of our society, but instead, I found it to be the deepest pit of sin imaginable.”

  Harper frowned at him. He seemed at odds with the detestable, predatory, dark male she had first encountered. “You’re the king’s spymaster... Surely you are amongst the worst of them all.”

  His face clouded and eyes darkened. “I’ve done what I needed to survive.”

  “What have you done?” she dared to ask, though based on her encounters with the king and the hospitality of his dungeon, she truly did not wish to know the depths of his depravities.

  “Things you cannot even imagine. I will not speak of them, least of all to you. Do not think that because we dine together and I clothe you, that I am your friend, Harper of Caledan.”

  Dimitrius stood stiffly and scowled at her. “Good night.” He tossed his napkin onto his unfinished plate of food and strode from the table, down the corridor, and out of hearing, until she heard a door slam in the distance.

  Harper stared after him for a long moment before abandoning her own plate and slipping into her room.

  Just when I think I have something figured out, away it slips again, like smoke between my fingers.

  HARPER WORE HER NEW cloak, at Dimitrius’s suggestion, to the next audience with Toroth, this time in the royal gardens that she had walked through the other night with Dimitrius. They were stunningly beautiful in the daylight.

  If Harper had been at leisure to view them, she might have admired the precisely shaped bushes and the delicate way flowers intertwined for a heady mix of scents and fierce colour. Perhaps she would have even noticed the artificial warmth, heated by the magic of the king to keep summer for just a while longer.