by LeRoy Clary
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“My dragon is refusing to come with us.”
“Is it because it’s so far away? Maybe it can’t hear you.”
“She knows,” Kendra said.
The protection the dragon provided had always been a safety net for us. A backup. We’d used her five or six times in that manner. I suddenly felt naked. Exposed.
“No idea why?” I asked.
“She is eating again right now, a deer, and refusing to do anything I say. She is sitting high on a rocky peak where she can look out over a wide valley and watch for sheep, goats, deer, elk, anything that moves.”
“That’s not normal.”
“If she keeps eating like this, she’ll gain so much weight she can’t fly. That was a joke. I thought it might lighten the mood.”
“Maybe she does not want to fly over the sea again,” I ventured.
“No. It’s something else. She is shutting her mind to me.”
I quit talking. Sometimes it is better to let problems work out without trying to solve them. That was a hard-learned lesson from living with two women my entire life. I sat and listened to the hum of sound, felt the gentle rocking of the boat, and felt the warmth of the morning sun penetrating into my chilled body. I closed my eyes to enjoy the feelings.
When I woke, my head was cradled in Kendra’s lap. The warmth I’d craved had turned to heat and sweat soaked my body. My mouth felt like the sand in the desert we’d traveled. It tasted like it too.
I moved to the water keg and found the contents mercifully cool and refreshing. Four full mugs barely slaked my thirst. I wiped damp hair from my forehead and pulled the silly straw sock-hat back down into place. If nothing else, I knew the dangers of sunburn while on the water or in the desert. The burning rays of the sun were amplified, even for those with the dark skin of my sister and me.
For the first time, I realized that we were as dark as most from Kondor, as was Anna. Captain was from Kondor, and his skin was the darkest of all probably from being on the water almost every day. That left only Will and Elizabeth as a pair of white-skinned people from the north. They were now the oddities—like Kendra and I had been our whole lives when we lived up north. We fit in and it felt nice.
I suspected we could withstand far more sun than them. That difference aside, the change in Elizabeth’s attitude both worried and fascinated me. How she did it, was a mystery. Was it done on purpose or naturally?
I half-stood and looked over the side of the boat. To my left was the barren flatlands of what I assumed was Dead Isle. To my right were the barren Brownlands, looking almost exactly the same as Dead Isle. There were no mountains in sight, only flat brown sand broken here and there by taller brown rocks. Not a flash of green or the reflection of the sun off fresh water anywhere.
I was bored. The sail puffed and sluffed, indicating there was little wind to push us. The lack of a breeze made the air feel hotter, stifling. Captain napped with his arm draped over the tiller. If awake, he would probably tighten a few ropes and the boat would move faster but he was protective of his boat and of who was at the tiller. Even after Will had spelled him while he examined the chart with Elizabeth, he kept looking to make sure all about the sail was up to his standards.
Others were fitfully sleeping during the sweaty heat, tossing and turning to make themselves more comfortable. Under the canvas, the heat collected and built until even breathing was difficult. In midafternoon, the wind nearly died, and the heat increased.
Captain turned the boat and sailed to a small bay on Dead Isle. I only noticed the course change because of the shift in the shadows but was too drained to ask for an explanation or be concerned. The boat moved slower than worms burrow through thick dirt. Twice I looked over the side and the land grew no closer.
It didn’t occur to me to ask why we sailed in the direction of the island. I didn’t care. Perhaps I dozed, which was not a state of being much different than being awake, but when I looked next time, we were entering a small bay. An energetic man could almost throw a rock across it.
Looking back, I expected to find Captain asleep, but he was crouched, steering the boat carefully. Not long after, the crunch of the hull grated on the sand, and the motion of the boat shifted, then stilled.
Captain called, “Everybody, pull yourselves together and stand up. The heat is too much. Get into the water on the port side of the boat where there is shade and cool off.”
We looked at him in confusion and with some amount of resistance. Asking me to do anything was likely to have the same response. My body was limp, my mind slow.
He moved forward, where he came to Anna. “Get up, young lady. Come on, I’ll take your hand.”
I watched from the corner of my eyes as he helped her step over the side. A moment later, she sighed, “This feels so good.”
Will was next. Then Kendra. I accepted his help and as I threw a leg over the side, my foot entered the coolest water since leaving Dire. I slipped into it, knee-deep, and into the shade provided by the hull. The sea bottom was soft sand, the water cool, the shade protected us from the sun. What could be more perfect?
There were gods I should have thanked, as well as the captain of our boat, and as I was thinking of more people to thank, I found that I could lie on my back, my head closest to the shore, with the water barely covering my ears. I closed my eyes and sank into the depths of sleep like none I’d ever known.
Later, I admitted to myself the water was not as cool as it seemed. It was warmer than most, but when compared to the air, it felt cooler than my body. I loved it.
Captain had us all in the water relaxing and staying out of the direct sun. He had joined us and said, “We’ll stay here until later when the wind picks up. Relax. Recover.”
“We need to hurry to Landor,” Elizabeth sighed, but didn’t stand to force the issue.
Captain said, “We’ll sail all night and make better time. Make it up easy.”
“You’re the captain, Captain,” she said and giggled as she had when ten and the weapons-master had taught her a new wrestling hold to use on me.
I’d like to say I was strong and stayed awake to guard us but that would be a lie. After the long night, I dozed comfortably. We talked only a little but enjoyed the small things in life. I asked Captain, “Have you been here before? To this place, not Landor.”
“Three or four times. Always to beat the afternoon heat, like now. Deep water in the bay, no rocks or reefs to open the hull, and soft sand to lay in. The wind usually picks up well before dark and we’ll be on our way again.”
Kendra motioned for me to join her down near the stern. I moved to the shade where she relaxed and waited. She said, “My dragon still refuses to come. I’m worried.”
“Don’t you think it deserves a proper name after all this time?” I heard both sharpness and humor in my tone. “As a group, we could all suggest names while we wait for the wind. I have a few choice ones in mind.”
“There is only one dragon in the world so that’s obviously the one we’re discussing. Why does it have to have a name? We both know the animal I’m talking about so quit talking about a name. I know you’re trying to humor me. But it worries me. She won’t budge from that ledge she is on.”
“Know what worries me? It’s Elizabeth. She’s changed, and she’s worried, too. You are her closest friend and maybe you can find out the problem.” I waited, making sure nobody was close enough to have overheard us.
“Change does not mean something is wrong,” Kendra said as wisely as any sage.
I glanced at Anna, sitting alone at the edge of the shade provided by the boat. She scooped sand from the bottom and let it sift through her fingers. *You okay?* I asked. *You seem a little down.*
*Nothing.*
*I know women well enough to know that’s either a lie or you’re concealing something. What is it?*
A pause ensued. Before I repeated the question, she answered, *I can’t read.*
&nbs
p; “Is that a problem?*
*Maybe not for you, but it makes me feel stupid.*
The last word had boomed into my mind as if she was shouting into both ears at once. I said, *Okay, we can solve that.*
*How? Using magic?*
I pictured the first letter learned in reading class in my head and sent it to her along with the sound it makes when said aloud. *No magic. Draw this in the sand beside you. Say its name out loud until you know it and when you do, I’ll give you another.*
*Then I can read?*
*Not right away, but soon.* I pulled away from her mind and found Kendra watching me. “Anna wants to learn to read.”
“The pair of you are becoming close. I like that.”
“You never answered me about Elizabeth,” I said. “You deflected my question with something mundane about change being good. And you didn’t give me a name for your dragon.”
Kendra looked directly at me without flinching and said, “How long before we sail?”
Even I had to laugh. She had no intention of telling me anything. I spread my arms wide in the water and closed my eyes. As hard as some might find it to believe, the combination of floating in water not much deeper than my hand, the shade of a stifling hot day, and the cessation of immediate tension allowed me to slip into another comfortable sleep.
I awoke to the captain telling us the wind had picked up. I sat and found the cooling sensation as a slight breeze touched my wet body. We climbed a rope ladder attached to the hull. The captain counted heads and lifted the sail. He attached the line on the end of the boom to a cleat and twisted the rudder. The boat shifted and started moving.
He made a wide turn, gaining speed as we moved, so we could coast upwind long enough to leave the little bay before turning south again and catching the wind. We sailed between the featureless mainland and equally featureless Dead Isle, closer to the island because Captain said the water was deeper there.
The depth of the water seemed to be his constant concern. I glanced around the boat. Anna’s finger repeatedly sketched the first letter and I judged her ready for the second. But I’d wait for her to ask for another. Will was at Elizabeth’s side, not intruding, but never more than an arm’s length away. Not since we camped near Kaon had he been much farther away.
I was rested and watched the sun sink into the land while we sailed on water. The breeze turned to a chill and eventually to cold. We had our blankets stored above the floor, so they stayed dry. However, I was not sleepy, having slept much of the afternoon away. I watched the dark outline of the shore and listened to the rush of water along the hull.
*I want the next letter.*
I sent it to her, along with the sound it made. She didn’t respond. I turned in the starlight and found her using a fingernail to scratch out the second letter against the side of the hull. Over and over. In a few days, we’d begin placing them together and sounding out simple words.
Teaching a child was one thing. Anna was nearly a young adult and she would learn in a fraction of the time a child would, if for no other reason than because she wanted to. We passed another fishing boat and Captain called out a greeting and exchanged information about fishing.
We didn’t have to be told to remain under the tarp and to be quiet. A fishing boat full of people would cause tongues to wag. Later, we sailed past another. This one asked where Captain was going. They obviously knew each other. He called back, “Landor.”
“What’s there?”
“A possible job carrying some passengers.”
The captain of our boat was a bad as some royalty at Crestfallen. They lied by telling the truth, but only the amount that suited them. He was also far smarter than I’d given him credit for at first. He appeared and acted the part of a simple fisherman. There were many indications he wasn’t.
He had detailed charts he carried with him, charts no regular fisherman could decipher. He read the words, understood the tides they indicated, and now and then he allowed his intelligence to show. Not only was he educated, but his language slipped. He spoke with words and actions no fisherman would. Added to that, was an air of command. In the past, he’d been an officer or more.
My suspicions were kept to myself. Yet, as I looked at Elizabeth, there was a familiar furrow in her brow. I’d seen it too many times not to recognize it. My attention went to Will and found that he too, knew. He kept himself between Elizabeth and Captain at all times like a guard dog and its master. So, I looked at Kendra and found a faint smile as she watched me watch them. She knew too. Hell, Anna probably did too.
I was the last to know.
The winds turned against us in the night, and we made little headway. Captain sailed us to the right until we almost reached the coastline, then we turned and sailed left until we almost reached the far shoreline of the island, then back again. We sailed ten times the distance that we advanced south.
The sun rose with Will at the helm relieving Captain, not really steering so much as just trying to keep us from running aground. I moved beside him, enjoying the warmth of the early morning sun. There was little wind, but enough we moved in the right direction.
I said, “You’ve been quiet.”
“My services haven’t been requested.” Will’s voice was soft, not offensive.
“Elizabeth has taken command of all of us, hasn’t she?” I chuckled.
Will’s attention was beyond the bow of the boat, looking out for danger or anything unusual. Without turning to look at me, he said, “You need to talk to her.”
“About how she is ordering people around?”
“That is her born right. You and your sister are excluding her from the triangle you have always been. She’s offended. Hurt.”
It was not like Will to gossip or engage in the interactions of friendships. He remained above that. The fact he’d shared those few words of concern took me back. Worse, he was right. My magic powers seemed to increase daily, Kendra now had a dragon at her call, and we spent endless time trying to figure out what had changed and how to put those changes to our use.
Princess Elizabeth was our friend and benefactor. Her haughty actions were partially in response to us. She saw us as her servants and childhood friends. As we’d grown, her influence over us dissipated—in her opinion.
I could see that. It had been a hard month, hard on all of us. None of the three were who we’d been when we left Crestfallen. Had it really only been a month?
I moved from Will’s side to the bow, where Elizabeth leaned against the hull, arms crossed on the rail, her chin resting on her wrists. Her hair blew back from her face. The others were asleep.
I copied her pose, our faces near each other, our cheeks almost touching. I kept my voice soft. “I’ve been thinking. Your entry into Landor will not be that of a royal princess arriving with full state honors, but that of a passenger on a smelly fishing boat.”
“Not very impressive.”
“How will you present yourself to the king? Why will he grant you an audience?”
“I’ve been wondering.”
“You have a purse filled with coins. Perhaps you could purchase what you need?”
She smiled wanly. “Which stalls at the market sells royal crowns and introductions?”
The conversation stalled.
The others awoke, saw the body-language of us and gave us our privacy, such as it was on a boat ten steps from bow to stern. There were things I needed to say. I had no words.
There are times in our lives with the simple truth is best. “Princess, no matter how things have changed, my sister and I are your loyal servants. If you require us to crawl on our hands and knees down the main street in Landor in front of you to show your power and importance, we will gladly do so. Will is your Royal Protector. We can find a role for Anna that supports your position. Whatever it takes.”
She finally turned. “You do not act like my servants these days.”
“Only because you have not asked us to. We are always at your cal
l, and always your friend.”
Before I could move, her arms were flung around my neck and she cried. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I held her and didn’t talk. That was exactly the right thing to do.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kendra joined us at the railing. We talked of our impending arrival and how to attract the attention of a foreign king who may have never even heard of the Kingdom of Dire. If Elizabeth was to secure his support in a war, she needed to impress him enough to gain an audience so she could begin her tale.
Her mention of the lack of an identifying crown had my mind churning. All mages I’d ever heard of accompanied royalty as if they were puppies on leashes. The presence of a mage signified importance. Perhaps a nice robe that fell to my toes would help, one that sparkled. I could strut along behind her as other mages did with royalty.
My mind placed the five of us trying to impress an entire kingdom as we entered the city smelling of fish and failed. There had to be a better way to attract positive attention, one so impressive word of it would travel to the castle or palace of the king—and directly to his ears.
On impulse, I said, “What if I provide a crown for you?”
Both used the expression that they displayed when I joked, and they were serious. A sort of cross between anger and pity.
I pulled yellow heat from the sun, applied it to the air in front of the boat and a large flare appeared, the size of a horse. A little work shrank its size and decreased its intensity. I focused on the center, cooling and forcing energy away from there.
What remained was a glowing ring of yellow a little larger than a head.
“Beautiful,” Kendra muttered.
A shift in concentration relocated it closer to Elizabeth. A nudge and it ringed her head.
“Ouch!” she shouted and ducked as she swept her hair with her hand. My creation dissolved in a burst of a yellow flare.
