Dragon Bow

by Angelique Anderson

  No, Astrid. Not angry at you. More so angry at myself that I didn’t figure it out first. Don’t fret. I think it’s wise that you are bringing Quimby with you. It’s good to have a second pair of eyes just in case. I can’t read the Tellurians yet, but I get the feel that they are still angry. I’d rather you not be by yourself, he said, sounding unusually concerned.

  I’m never alone, I have you, she said, suddenly worried that he was thinking of leaving again.

  Yes, you do have me. Only I have a terrible temper, and though I wish I could control it, often it is just best for me to wander off for a bit and get myself in check. I would hate to do that again and leave you defenseless. He sounded almost apologetic.

  Then don’t leave me again. I need you, Aronus. If my wild accusations are correct, then how am I to fight the beast. I could no sooner harm it, then I could harm you. You’re my best friend, Aronus. Friends have problems and they learn how to fight through them.

  I consider it an honor to be your friend, Astrid. She could almost feel him smiling. Then Quimby ambled from his room, with a small bag of supplies. He had also donned a utility belt with a few tools, one was a dagger, but she had no idea what the rest of the pockets and flaps were for. She was impressed.

  “I would never have thought you to be the handy type,” she teased.

  “Oh, I’m very handy. Remember that my father taught me how to hunt,” he reminded her.

  “That’s true, you did tell me that. Well, very well then. A fine pair we shall make, maybe you can show me a thing or two?” Astrid grinned.

  “I do hope you’re teasing. I was hoping to learn a thing or two from you.”

  “Then maybe we can learn from each other.” Her green eyes flashed with a sparkle, and her lips turned upward.

  “That’s a compromise I could agree to.”

  He smiled back, and they headed toward the stairs leading down from Caelestis. The moon was night now, all the sunlight disappeared below the horizon, but Quincy didn’t falter a step as he took them to the camp at the base of the stairs where the Tellurians had camped long ago. There were several tents, but they agreed on the two that faced away from the center of the camp and were closest to each other.

  Quimby hurried to pick up sticks, logs, and firelighter to get a fire going while Astrid checked the mats inside the tents, fluffing the straw a bit to make it just a bit more comfortable. She checked for any provisions, but only managed to come up with some dried rolls, and old fruit. It would be up to the two of them to go hunting in the morning. Or I suppose, if I need anything, I can just climb the steps home. Home. She liked saying the word in reference to Caelestis. She only hoped that soon enough it would be true, and she could come and go as she pleased from there without fear of repercussion. With the fire blazing, and Quimby sitting comfortably, Astrid felt more comfortable. Even as night wrapped around them.

  “Thank you, Quimby.”

  “It was my pleasure, it’s kind of exciting, actually. I haven’t done anything like this since my father was alive. It makes me feel like a child again.” He grinned, and his wings fluttered slightly, doing nothing except showing his excitement. Astrid wondered if his wings were good for anything else besides excitement since he couldn’t use them to fly.

  The flames of the fire were like magic dancing with shadows. Astrid stared through the flames, getting lost in her thoughts about what was going on at the castle, and everything Quimby had told her.

  Her thoughts were shattered when she heard footsteps approaching. She lifted her head nonchalantly to glance at the newcomers.

  “Well, it looks like we missed dinner,” a rugged man said to his companion.

  A group of men traveled with him, all wearing leather armor with weapons hanging from their sides, and a few of them were injured and limping.

  “Not at all, men, we weren’t eating,” Astrid said, gauging their reaction. She didn’t feel as if she had anything to fear, but she had no idea of knowing what their intentions were. “You look like you’ve seen better days, is there anything I can do to help?”

  The men laughed.

  “As if we’d let one of ‘you’ help,” the leader said.

  “Eh, what do you mean by that?” Quimby stood, placing his hand on the sword secured in its scabbard.

  “I mean, we were just minding our own business when one of those bright colored freaks attacked us,” the man continued.

  “Yeah, and she nearly took me leg clean off!” one of his partners yelled out in a whiny, nasally voice.

  “Hush yer’ mouth, yer’ just fine!” the man yelled.

  Astrid could feel her nerves tensing as the men neared Quimby and Astrid. Their bickering and verbal jabs grew louder and more insistent, and Astrid knew that injured and angry men could be a bad combination. She stood tall next to Quimby, pulling her bow from behind her as Quimby unsheathed his sword. She gradually moved to the right, taking small steps to attempt to gain an advantage over the men.

  “Oh, lookie, I do believe she means to fight us.” The rugged man gave Astrid a hard look up and down.

  Astrid felt his piercing gaze and knew the threat in his eyes. He meant to harm her if he had his way, and perhaps worse. She had no choice but to fight. She gave Quimby a meaningful glance, and he nodded.

  Quimby looked ready for trouble, as if he knew it would come to this, after all, Astrid seemed to attract trouble. Maybe that was why he came with her, but she hoped she was wrong. Astrid didn’t want to be someone who always attracted a fight, and she especially didn’t want to be someone who needed help. And there would come a time when she wanted to attract kindness, peace, and hope. But, the constant fighting with, and among the people, would never lead to that.

  Astrid waited for the men to make the first move. It didn’t take long. A sword swung through the air, and she ducked underneath it, feeling the wind created by the weapon above her head, and she watched as a strand of her green hair was sliced and fell to the ground. She blinked hard, grateful that the man’s sword was sharp and had sliced through her hair rather than tangling with it and dragging her to the ground. Astrid reached to Aronus’ tail at the bottom of her bow, grabbing it gently and pulling. His tail didn’t move, as it was a part of the bow, but a magical arrow appeared in her hand. Instead of nocking the arrow in her bow, she used it as a melee weapon, stabbing it forward, and through the neck of her would-be attacker. He fell to the ground in a heap as she pulled the magical arrow out of his neck, and without pausing, she nocked the same arrow and loosed it at the next bandit. Normally, for an archer, that would save them an arrow, but for Astrid, her arrows were magical—and limitless. She did it because of how close her first opponent was. Astrid didn’t have enough room to loose an arrow when the attacker was already swinging a weapon above her head.

  Quimby fought by her side, and though she could barely give his struggle any attention, she did notice his skill with a sword. When she had attempted to train the Caelestan soldiers at the request of King Bertram, she assumed all Caelestans were terrible swordsmen. However, for Quimby—that wasn’t true. He fought against two opponents at once, and he allowed his lack of height to be his advantage as he ducked beneath blows, while simultaneously blocking the other, then switching. Quimby spun around, twirling his blade with masterful skill, deflecting two swords at once, before twisting his wrist and slicing his first opponent through the stomach. Astrid raised her eyebrows in surprise, and she wondered if his Tellurian father had taught him sword fighting. A part of her desired to see her sister Svana practice against Quimby—Astrid imagined it would be quite a sight to behold.

  Astrid focused back on her own opponents, no longer concerned with Quimby’s wellbeing. After seeing his skill with a blade, she knew he could handle himself. All she had to do was keep her own opponents busy so they wouldn’t give Quimby more than he could handle. She backed away a few steps, trying to get far enough away to be effective as an archer. The only problem with that was it gave a larger opening fo
r the bandits to strike Quimby, and he wouldn’t be able to handle too many. But she was an archer and didn’t have much for close combat. She needed her arrows to strike swift and strike true.

  Not wanting to inflict further death, she began loosing arrows at bandits’ legs and torsos, hoping to injure them enough to keep them from reaching Quimby. She couldn’t prevent all death, but she did what she could to deter their opponents rather than massacre them. However, her goal didn’t last. From what she thought at first to be only a few bandits, turned into dozens as they kept coming. Her eyes widened in horror at the sight that so many came after her and Quimby.

  When Quimby noticed the influx of more bandits, he finished his two additional opponents, leaving six on the ground—dead by his hand, and another three nearby he had injured, he rushed back to meet with Astrid. The bandits began coming in slower, forming a tight circle around Astrid and him.

  “What do we do now?” Astrid asked. “I don’t have a sword—nor am I too good with one compared to this bow. But there are too many.”

  “We pray to the Sky Goddess,” Quimby whispered.

  Astrid frowned. She didn’t like that answer. What would the Sky Goddess do? She wondered if she could reach the Unseen Ones, though, she didn’t believe they would help her either.

  Aronus, any ideas? she asked.

  Before he could reply, Quimby withdrew a small horn from his sash. It looked like a large bird talon that had been hallowed out, though still small when compared to horns made from rams like the Tellurians. Taking a deep breath, he blew into the small horn. Astrid felt a tickle in her ear, but otherwise—she heard nothing. Her once hopeful heart sank as she imagined the horn broken.

  Quimby did not have a chance to blow the horn as second time as the surrounding bandits charged them. Astrid let her arrows loose, no longer trying to injure her opponents, but to kill. Two fell with magical arrows through their heads before the first bandits reached her and Quimby.

  Even though they were outnumbered, Quimby didn’t give up. His strikes were swift, and deadly. He killed the first two opponents before Astrid could loose her third arrow. The bandits surrounded him, trying to cut off his strikes and blindside him from behind. He spun, opening his wings as he did so. His sword pierced the stomach of another opponent, as his wings slammed another three onto their backs. Two more closed the gap and he disarmed one before slamming his left wing into his head, rendering him unconscious, while facing a single opponent, which he defeated swiftly.

  Astrid tried to keep up with Quimby’s inner battle fire. With his skill, she wondered why he wasn’t training the Caelestan soldiers. Did King Bertram know of Quimby’s skill—or was it something Quimby had kept secret? He’d kept it secret from her, and Astrid began to wonder why. Perhaps, despite his early talk of doing as the Caelestans King’s will, he truly didn’t want to fight the Tellurians from the beginning. Astrid mentally slapped herself on the back of the head. Of course, he truly didn’t want to kill Tellurians. After all—his father was one. From the brief discussion Astrid had with Quimby, his love for his father was clear.

  She didn’t cease her arrows as she continued to loose them one after another at their enemy. For a moment, it looked like they were going to survive, but as soon as she had the thought, another dozen bandits appeared, rushing toward them. However, before they overwhelmed them, a small party of Caelestan soldiers appeared, joining the battle.

  When she saw them, a great pressure lessoned from her mind, and for the first time in a long while—she felt relief. However, she knew the battle was far from over. Even though she saw over a dozen Caelestan soldiers join the battle, she saw at least three times as many Telluran bandits. The more Astrid thought about it, the more she realized this was no small party of bandits, but a small army.

  She watched as around her several of the Caelestans fell. It enraged her, though, she could not tell if they were dead or merely injured. However, it didn’t matter. Her eyes blazed with green fire as she loosed arrow after arrow. While the Caelestan soldiers helped, none of them were as skilled as Astrid or Quimby. But the tide of the battle did turn, and as they fought back, unified in force, and standing ground with Astrid and Quimby, after several more Tellurians fell—most from Astrid’s arrows and Quimby’s blade, but others from the other Caelestan soldiers, the Tellurian bandits finally fled.

  Astrid took a step forward, almost intent on following the bandits as they ran away, but she stumbled, and nearly fell to the ground had Quimby not grabbed her arm to hold her steady.

  “Careful now, Astrid. We have won. It is time now to rest,” Quimby said.

  Yes, Aronus said in her mind, rest. You deserve it. You did excellent in that battle. Well done.

  26

  Svana

  Falling in love isn’t something you can plan for. It does not happen when you want it to. It hits you like a wild boar—and by the time you finally realize it—it’s already too late.

  Pavrusion, The Infamous, The Eighth Dragon Elder, Ninth Age of Verdil

  Svana watched as Percival and Dorian worked together to grab Jakobe. They lifted his arms and hefted him around their shoulders as one would an intoxicated man.

  “What do you want us to do?” Percival asked, heaving slightly from the weight of the man.

  “We need to get him to Aequoris. That’s where my sister is—she can help us.” Svana wiped away her tears, her stoic warrior personality fighting for dominance once more. She’d had her moment of weakness, but now it was time to be strong.

  “All right, Svana, you lead the way and we’ll move as quickly as we possibly can,” Percival said.

  She nodded, pushing her wild red hair behind her ears before she sprinted in the direction of the sea. A million thoughts tumbled through her mind, causing unrest and anxiety. Svana wondered how she would find her sister when she reached the water’s edge. And how would they breathe underwater if necessary?

  Their journey to the sea took them longer than Svana hoped. Every time Jakobe breathed, she feared it would be his last. In her mind, all she could do was plead with him to keep fighting, to keep breathing, even if he couldn’t hear her.

  The sound of water lapping against the edge of the soft earth was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. Studying the shoreline, Svana hoped there would be some clue as to how they would breathe beneath the surface once they descended into the watery depths.

  Percival and Dorian laid Jakobe down in the sand near the shoreline.

  “What are you looking for, Svana?” Percival asked.

  “I’m trying to figure out how we’re going to breathe underwater. I don’t know how my sister does it.” The wind was cold, nipping at her shoulders and cheeks. She couldn’t imagine descending into the icy depths with such temperatures roaring above the surface.

  “Don’t worry, Svana. We will get him help. I don’t think we’re going to need to go underwater to do so. I see a city above the sea across the waves. If we can reach it, I think there may be someone who can help us.”

  “Well, how are we going to get there? We don’t exactly have a boat or magical capabilities” Svana’s attitude had soured and she grew more bitter by the second. All she could think about was saving Jakobe. “Please, for the love of all that is good can we hurry. You don’t seem to understand that he deserves to live more than I do, and if he dies, I may as well die with him.”

  “Svana! Do not say such things!” Percival yelled. “Your life has just as much value as his.”

  “If my life has just as much value, then why did none of these bad things happen until I showed up? Before me, Jakobe was never threatened or beaten or kidnapped. And your tavern was never threatened, so please tell me how my life has more value than all of that combined?”

  “Svana, before you, our kingdom was dying. The people had given up completely. Life as it was wasn’t getting any better. There was no hope of something better. The very fact that you came and brought this place to its knees to the point that we are b
eing threatened, means that change is coming.”

  “At what cost though?” Her voice raised, and she waved to Jakobe’s unmoving form on the sand.

  Dorian interrupted. “We’re going to save him, don’t worry.”

  Svana looked to him, but he took off quite suddenly, and she could hear his feet flying through the underbrush, until the sounds eventually faded.

  “That is the opposite of helping me get Jakobe help,” Svana growled, feeling frustrated. She wanted to scream. If only I had magical abilities—I would carry him myself.

  The man returned, quicker than she’d had time to think of a new plan, and behind him he dragged a small rowboat.

  “You doubt me, Svana? All the best of us know where the Tellurians hide getaway boats. There aren’t many remaining, but there are many times I’ve had to escape in a hurry. It did me well to know where these were kept. Come on, help me get him in the boat. I know someone who can help.”

  With renewed hope, Svana helped Percival and Dorian lift Jakobe into the boat. That glimmer of light was quickly dimmed by how cold his skin felt under her fingertips. They didn’t have much time left.

  “Please, we must hurry!” Svana urged them.

  Dorian nodded, his face grimacing slightly, but he refrained from arguing with her. He grabbed the oars, and Percival stood outside of the boat to help push them out from shore, before he jumped into the small watercraft with them.

  Together, the men rowed with all their might, fighting against the waves that had risen with the increase of the cold wind. The entire time, Svana leaned forward, holding her hand on Jakobe’s head to let him know she was there.

  “I’ll never leave you,” she whispered to him, over and over. Svana hoped she would have the chance to tell him when he could hear her.

  When they finally reached the small floating city, the men docked the small boat near a fleet of ships and tied it off, assuring that it wouldn’t float away. They had to get back to Telluris somehow. It took the three of them, once more, and some very careful maneuvering to get Jakobe onto the damp, moss covered ground of the Aequoran island.