Durance the Vile’s head struck like a snake’s at the attacking dragon, then suddenly retracted, his body slipping out of position, knocking down the girl.
“Fat lot of protection you are!” Malady complained, but just then the ground shook itself like a wet dog.
“Earthquake!” yelled one of the older women, “I think.”
Bringing Home the Bacon
The cattle didn’t care for the underworld. The icy stone surrounding them was not to their taste, with neither grass nor grain to tempt them. They lowed, bellowed, stamped and snorted. They exploded from the Knowe, for even though they had agreed in theory that to be eaten by a dragon and thus become a part of one would be a great honor, none were anxious for the honor immediately.
Verity had no experience with stampedes, but Smelt chivvied and shepherded them in the direction of the chute-tunnels leading into the arena. They were more inclined to go anywhere else until Casimir began humming and ‘ooo-ing’ an intriguing tune that caused them to slow, look at the ground for some errant hank of grass and, finding none, investigate the tunnel toward which they, along with the sheep, goats, and pigs that followed, ambled.
Wild things sprang from the Knowe too: bear, lynx, moose, caribou, foxes, squirrels, ptarmigan, beaver, otters, and others that had not been seen in Argonia with any frequency in over a century. These creatures, however, spread out, leaving the compound to look for their familiar habitat in the woods, meadows, streams and mountains.
The dragons in the arena, newly freed by Grudge and pacified to a degree by Madame Erotica’s love potion, fell immediately in love with the feast galloping before them and fell upon the beasts, some to devour them and others, slightly confused, to court them, or attempt to.
The humans they totally forgot or ignored.
Storm clouds that had been gathering in the night sky, blotting out stars, were suddenly upstaged by a glorious multi-colored balloon, a huge one, big enough that Taz could perch at the mouth of it and gently heat the gas that filled it.
The gondola was huge, big enough to carry at least two dozen people. Toby set it down outside the arena and, after noting that their ankles were free of restraint, the captive ‘maidens’ made a beeline for the exits and an airborne escape from a holiday that had become a nightmare.
An unfamiliar lady who bore a striking family resemblance to Aunt Ephemera, Madame Erotica and the upper half of Aunt Eulalia led a frightened youngster up through the tunnel, sternly making a path through the other women, “Excuse me, children first.” “What is the matter with you? This kid is frightened and battered.” “You should be ashamed of yourself, pushing like that. You’re okay, I’m okay, we’re all okay and will soon be out of this place if you exercise a bit of patience and calm.”
Devent landed beside Smelt, and they were roundly hissed at by an unfamiliar dragon with a coil wrapped proprietarily around Malady. Of course, Malady. Who else but that trouble-maker? To Verity’s surprise, her mother, Romany, had remained as well instead of disappearing into a tree or a hill somewhere as she usually seemed to do. She was clad in her customary disguise of black dyed hair and walnut stained skin, her colorful skirts pushing out the white garment hastily thrown over her head by her captors so that she resembled nothing so much as a peeled potato adorned with ruffles for a festive touch.
“What did you do?” Romany demanded, boggling at the bones piling up beside sleeping dragons.
Beside her stood no brave knight, but the foxy family lawyer, N. Tod Belgaire.
“You mean to say you didn’t know everything already?” Verity asked. “How refreshing.” She briefly recounted their journey through the Knowe, to meeting with Marja and Timoteo and the decision the cattle had made regarding their upcoming demise.
When the first balloon load took its load of ladies away from the Fairgrounds, Devent lit the pile of timber gathered from dismantled pavilions. Most of the dragons slept. The Fair organizers had mysteriously disappeared, which at least meant nobody had to listen to them. Verity, Romany, Malady, and Casimir surrounded by the tails and coils of the drowsy Devent, Durance and Smelt, warmed themselves. While the ‘game’ was going on, everyone was more than warm enough, but this night the weather grew cold and made it plain that winter was about to descend upon the land once and for all.
“This Fair promoted the idea that dragons were to be feared and exterminated,” Verity said. “But it turns out the most fearsome creatures we have to face are the so-called allies and former government ministers seeking to destroy the reputations of the dragons as workers and have them all killed so they can bring in what in their own country passes for power.”
“We’ll see about that,” Mr. Belgaire said.
“I had nothing to do with all of this,” Malady protested. “The uncles—I mean, the ministers—tried to kill me too!”
“We know, dear,” Dr. Hexenbraun said, patting the arm the girl did not have across Durance, as if afraid to lose contact with the wily old dragon. “Your family is not your fault.”
Verity frowned at the other girl. “You didn’t do much to help me, however.”
“I don’t like you,” Malady said honestly, to Verity’s relief. “I knew all along that I was supposed to rule. Even Durance says I am a princess and he is the oldest dragon ever and has lived in Queenston Castle practically before there was one. He showed me the treasury, not you.”
“Well, I wasn’t there because your uncles had me shanghaied.”
“Girls, girls,” said Romany. “I had hoped you might get along better, once you both learned of the jeopardy to our kingdom from those men.”
“But you made me queen,” Verity said. “I had to wear that bloody tiara and everything.”
“I knew that you would hate it. Except for your stature, you have always taken after your father’s side of the family, my dear.”
“Maybe so. Or maybe I was just more like him because he was there.” Verity snapped. She was weary and sore and a bit loopy from the step-missing disorientation of time travel. She did not feel like being tolerant, or even fair. “Malady isn’t related to either one of you though. So why her? Why not someone else.”
“She is a pretty, pretty princess. My fairy princess,” Durance said, laying his chin on Malady’s knee.
“I never told him that,” Malady said, holding up her hands as if to defend herself from accusations.
But to Verity’s puzzlement, the dragon’s statement did not trigger a headache for her. She narrowed her eyes at her mother. “There’s something else you’re not telling us, isn’t there? Is she my sister from another timeline? Did you leave Dad for some other man?”
Her mother rolled her eyes. “No, dear, I did not. Isn’t being a time traveling witch princess/Gypsy queen complicated enough? You don’t need to think me a slut as well. No, Malady is not my daughter. She is our relative though. She is descended from my older brother, Rupert, and like me is directly from the line of King Roari Rowan and Queen Amberwine, who was indeed of Faerie lineage.”
“But, she’s a Dungie!” Verity protested, and was immediately upset with herself for using the pejorative for the Frostingdungians, even if the ones who had been in power were responsible for the recent trouble.
“Half,” Romany said. “She is my niece and your cousin. On his way home from the quest to rescue me, Rupert was sed—claims he was seduced—by a Frostingdungian merchant’s daughter. He says his heart had already been taken by the dragon Grippeldice, daughter of Grizel and Grimley, who were friends of the family.”
Durance opened one eye and a noise vibrated from his throat that was very like a cat’s purr. “I knew it,” he said. “I knew there was a whiff of dragon kin about this fairy princess.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Malady said. “I had no idea.”
“I discovered it in a recording Rupert made that had been buried in the Seashell Archives. But I knew nothing of you, so I thought it best if you girls sorted it out among yourselves. It seemed to me that b
etween Verity’s visions of the truth and your emphasis on being a vision of glamor and beauty, your qualities might complement each other.”
“It all sounds very complicated,” Verity groaned. Malady, on the other hand, sat straight up and leaned forward eagerly.
“Yes,” she said. “Complicated. But…”
“That,” said N. Tod Belgaire, the family lawyer, “Is where I come in. We are going to need new counselors and functionaries… I will have to reread the law books from before the Great War and try to determine which modifications from current times to keep and which are out-moded or rooted in the self-interest of the larcenous lordships and murderous ministers, who, if I may be so bold as to suggest, should either be banished back to Frostingdung or continue to enjoy our hospitality from the dungeon.”
Verity looked around, at the seats where other weary people sat listening, and found she was staring at the individuals distinguished by a ghost cat on their heads, in their laps, or draped across their shoulders. Madame Marsha, Clodagh, Grudge, Zeli, Mr. Bowen, Captain Lewis and several of the others she had not yet given dragon beads to served as perches for the ghost cats, informing her of the whereabouts of some of the remaining magical heirs.
“I think we might consider choosing from a broader pool of people to govern than before,” she said. “And perhaps Casimir and Auld Smelt can advise us more of how things used to run, since you chose not to participate in politics before, Mother.”
Durance raised his head and Malady said, “Durance the Vile knows where a lot of bodies are buried—literally as well as metaphorically, and who has whose skeletons in their closets, quite aside from the uncles. We actually might be able to work this out.” She sounded not at all sarcastic, but hopeful.
“I’m going to go invite the people the cats seem to be favoring to come to the castle,” Verity said. “I am not sure the country needs a queen or royals at all, Mother. Not in these modern days. But we have a lot of different species and races to consider. What with Faeries, trolls, merfolk, the heirs to wizards, and dragons, they will all have different needs and also different skills they can contribute.”
A few months later, the first full council convened in a totally transformed throne room/council chamber/ballroom. Seating for fifty circled the room for the newly appointed regional representatives. A balcony strong enough to accommodate one or more dragons had been built outside of the windows where Durance used to peer in at Malady. From the minstrel’s gallery, another outcropping was designed to hold Devent. Smelt was a roving ambassador for the dragons who wished to return to their former jobs or new ones—or go into business for themselves. Fiona and Zeli represented working women, Clodagh tradespeople and Grudge provided the loyal opposition to almost every debate and decision.
Malady, due to her influence with the keeper of the royal treasury, was the new finance minister, a job which Casimir suggested must require the person to travel around the country not only to explain the need for taxes, but also to dispense aid where it was needed and become acquainted with the needs of the citizen/subjects.
The system was by no means perfect, but on the anniversary of the ill-fated Hiring Fair, people celebrated anyway.
Verity addressed the crowd while Malady posed in her most glamorous gown and jewels on loan from the treasury. She waved to the populace while Verity spoke, trying to sound a bit like the kings and queens of old, not autocratic but formal, respectful and hoping to inspire respect and trust in return. The trust part, at least, was something that was becoming easier for her to gain as her reputation for compulsive honesty became more widespread and more deeply entrenched in the peoples’ regard.
She downplayed her role as queen but was well-known as a judge and dispenser of justice in all disputes. It gave her alarming headaches some days, but by fixing a little shelf for the crown to sit on above her head, she was relieved of the literal burden of it at least.
“Argonians, human and non, we have survived the year and with any luck we’ll survive another. My Aunt Epiphany tells me it is entirely likely, and she knows these things. It is our hope that we as a nation are learning to utilize all our skills and powers, magical and non-magical, to make our land prosperous, healthy, and as happy as humans can reasonably be expected to be. But for now, we will make merry, celebrate, and otherwise party and live happily ever after. You know it’s true, because I say so.”
She left Malady waving and blowing kisses, the most beloved tax collector ever, and joined Toby on the dance floor.
She did not see when another couple slipped into a side alley from which they would access what would soon be the sewage system that now was an underground passage leading to the Faerie Knowe and another time.
“Devent’s songs of this time and the adventures of your good daughter queen will be sung and embellished upon for generations to come,” Casimir said.
“But not during her lifetime,” the Rani Romany said with a smile. “For her lifetime, they are confined to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
“Huzzah,” Casimir said softly.
About the Author
Elizabeth Ann Scarborough is the author of more than 25 solo fantasy and science fiction novels, including the 1989 Nebula award winning Healer’s War, loosely based on her service as an Army Nurse in Vietnam during the Vietnam War. She has collaborated on 16 novels with Anne McCaffrey, six in the bestselling Petaybee series and eight in the YA bestselling Acorna series, and most recently, the Tales of the Barque Cat series, Catalyst and Catacombs (from Del Rey). Recently she has converted all of her previously published solo novels to eBooks with the assistance of Gypsy Shadow Publishing, under her own Fortune imprint. Spam Vs. the Vampire was her first exclusive novel for eBook and print on demand publication, followed by Father Christmas (a Spam the Cat Christmas novella) and The Tour Bus of Doom. Redundant Dragons is her newest exclusive novel in The Seashell Archives series and follows The Dragon, the Witch, and the Railroad.
WEBSITE: http://www. eascarborough.com
DEDICATED BOOK SITE: http://scarbor9.wix.com/beadtime-stories
BLOG: http://spamslitterature.wordpress.com/
TWITTER: https://twitter.com/KBDundee
FACEBOOK: http://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.a.scarborough
OTHER: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4811383.K_
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