Yes. I lifted my chin. If that is the only way to get home, then yes. I will not simply sit in a tower and wait for someone to rescue me. Especially since it could be months or… or years before… I swallowed tears—they wouldn't help me—and kept walking.
Eventually, the circle led me to the beach, the red flowers continuing across sand and down into the water. I sat down to rest, letting the breeze cool me and the very edge of the water lick my feet.
The sea was astonishingly loud, and violent, all bluster and crash. It was all too easy to imagine my own drowned body tumbling in the heavy waves. I told myself to watch the little brown sand-birds, so much smaller and more fragile than I, and how fearlessly they approached the water. After several minutes passed and none of them died from their stupidity, I tried to believe that the sea was not so very dangerous after all. I walked along the shore, the tower's cliff rising behind me, and waded out until the water washed against my ankles, pulling at the sand beneath my feet.
Surely my best hope was that the circle ended somewhere out in the water, either unable to sustain itself there, or judged unnecessary. And the dragon could return at any time. I couldn't afford to wait.
Trying not to let my knees shake, I put my hand on the invisible wall, and followed it into the water.
Waves pushed and pulled at me like large, ill-behaved children, tangling my water-logged skirts, slipping between my feet and the sandy bottom, splashing my face with salt that burned my eyes and nose and throat. Blinded and choking, I lost my grip on the smooth wall of the circle and was tumbled like a stone through the water.
It was even worse than being taken by the dragon. After all, I had been able to figure fairly quickly that he didn't intend to eat me. The sea—the sea was trying its very best to eat me.
I don't know how long I thrashed and foundered in panic, straining toward the sunlight; it couldn't have been as long as it felt, or I would certainly have drowned. Instead I fetched up against a rock at the foot of the cliff, and clung there with all my strength, despite the waves that continually shouldered past me as if determined to jar me loose.
A shadow fell over me, and I looked up to see the dragon's wide wings beating the air above my head.
Gently, he gathered me in one massive claw and carried me back to shore. Once I was safely on the ground, he stepped back from me and exhaled the cloud of smoke and sparks I had seen before, which enveloped him and then cleared, leaving him in his human shape. Without a word, he carried me inside, settled me in a lounge-chair, and lit the fireplace.
"Are you satisfied, then," he said, tucking a blanket gently around me, "that the circle is as I described?"
"I suppose I must be," I said, through a throat still choked with saltwater, but it was a lie. I had not been able to establish one way or the other whether the circle ended in the water, and though the idea terrified me, I knew I would be trying again.
Rindargeth handed me bread and a cup of ale, grumbling under his breath. "Tomorrow I must teach you to swim. Next time, I might not be able to fish you out soon enough."
I glanced at him sideways. "Such concern for your captive."
He said nothing. If his lined, leathery face held an expression, I could not decipher it.
"Have you been following me all day?" I asked. "I never saw you."
"I spent the day on the top of the tower." He sat down on the hearth, poking the fire higher. "I can see farther than a man, even when shaped like one, so I watched you. I saw no reason to interfere with you unless you were hurt. Or tried to drown yourself."
"You didn't answer my question last night," I said. "Why have you brought me here?"
"This place is far from people, abandoned for years. It will be easy to hide you here."
"That wasn't my question."
"Have you never heard that dragons are secretive?"
"No, I have never heard that. Large and strong, yes. Dangerous, extremely. Possessive, violent, bad-tempered. But secretive? No."
Did an expression flicker then? One rather like Tegwen's when I was pestering her?
"This dragon," he said at last, "is secretive."
"And this dragon," I said, "will keep me here despite the danger to his own life and the utter lack of advantage to himself. He seeks no battle with knights. He possesses no treasure for me to curate. He appears to have no collection of other maidens. Or am I merely the first?"
He snorted. "God forbid. I expect you will be plenty."
"Do you intend to ransom me to my father?"
"I do not."
"Then what reason have you for doing this?"
"My reasons are my own."
"Or perhaps they are someone else's."
A startled glance from him, and silence, with only the fire crackling.
"By Jove," I said, wondering. "That is the truth. You have a master."
"Who would presume to be master of a dragon?"
"I do not know, but you must have some reason for abducting me—and yet you have no reason at all. It must be someone else's reason, someone who may command you to do his will."
He was silent.
"Someone," I ventured, "you are, perhaps, forbidden to speak of?"
If an expression lurked in his features now, it might have been amusement, or relief. "If such a man existed, I might advise him that, in taking you, he had bitten off more than he could chew."
"Speaking of chewing," I poked a finger at the rough, dark bread, "this food will not do."
He blinked. "What ails the food?"
"It's well enough for peasants, I suppose. And I can't expect royal feasting here. But even peasants don't eat the very same thing each day—do we have anything here but bread and cheese? Fruits and vegetables exist in the world, along with better breads and better cheeses. With the sea so close to hand, we can surely get fish, and do not tell me you can't hunt a deer."
"And if I hunt, will you clean it?" he said dryly.
I swallowed. "I… am not accustomed to such work, I admit. You would have to teach me."
"Dragons are more accustomed to cooking our prey with a breath and eating it whole. But I am sure we can arrange something satisfactory to us both. As for plant-eating, I know very little of that, but there is enough land within the circle for you to have a garden. I can bring you seeds."
"A garden. I would like that." Though my chest tightened to think of being in this place long enough to pull in a crop. "It would also be nice if the tower walls could be repaired, and all the rooms made usable."
He shook his head, chuckling. "More than he can chew, indeed," he muttered, and tucked me deeper into the blankets.
◆◆◆
Rindargeth would have had me swim in my shift, or even without clothing at all, but this I would not abide. Instead I took a green tunic—men's clothing that I had no use for; Rindargeth had only brought it by mistake—and sewed the bottom into trouser-legs of a sort, and used that for my swimming lessons.
"Your shift would be lighter," Rindargeth frowned.
"Yes, and it would cling to my body once wet, doing as little to preserve my modesty as a glass window! That will not do when I am in the company of a man."
"Man?" Rindargeth snorted. "I am no man, Ariana, but a dragon. I am no more capable of having improper thoughts for a human—a human child, at that—than for a horse or hound. I may wear the shape of a man as needed, but believe me, my heart belongs to my own kind."
Nevertheless, I insisted upon the swimming garb, and lessons commenced. Rindargeth taught me to handle myself in the sea, moving with it since I would never be strong enough to stand against it. Steam rose wherever water touched him, because of the dragon's-fire within him, but he assured me it did him no harm. Within a few days we were swimming together easily, splashing each other to provoke outrage and laughter.
We made the tower habitable, rebuilt the kitchen, and began a garden, hoping for some small crop before winter. Rindargeth procured more or less whatever I asked for, though he would no
t tell me how or where he got them. I always took the opportunity of his absence to search for any flaw in the circle that would let me escape. I did not find one.
"I am sorry, lass," Rindargeth said, the day he returned and caught me slogging out of the water, after finding out for myself that the invisible wall persisted all the way back around to the beach. "You will find no escape. None who come inside the circle can leave it again, except myself, and the circle will remain as long as I live, unless my—" His voice cut off, and he looked startled, as if expecting to hear himself continue.
"Your master," I realized. "Unless your master releases you."
His voice resumed. "If there were such a man."
I tried to keep myself too busy for homesickness and too tired for dreams. Once my requirements for new items were mostly satisfied, Rindargeth spent less time away from the tower, and we fell into a habit of working together in the garden in the mornings, and in the afternoons turning to the sea for relief from the heat of an unseasonably sunny autumn. Slowly, clumsily, I began teaching myself to cook, and Rindargeth to read, sitting together by the fire after dark.
We were swimming on the afternoon, six weeks after my arrival, that the first knight came.
"We really do need some livestock, Rindargeth," I was insisting, as we bounced casually over a wave. "A milk-cow, some chickens, perhaps a cat... Are you listening to me?"
He had his head cocked in a very odd fashion, as if he'd heard something I hadn't, and his yellow eyes were unfocused.
"Rindargeth?"
Abruptly his focus returned, and he spoke, his voice rough. "Get to the tower, child, and stay there. And remember… please remember that I never wanted this."
He ran from the water, and the moment his feet touched dry ground the swirling smoke began. Within three steps he was a dragon again, half as tall as the tower itself and the color of drying blood, shaking the sky with a brassy roar.
Across the hills, I could just see a figure on horseback, armor winking in the sun.
My breath stopped. Awkwardly, all my swimming lessons forgotten, I fought my way to shore. My instinct was to stay there and watch, despite Rindargeth's instruction, but would I be safe there? Who knew where this battle would range? Besides, I decided, I would have a better view from the parapet.
By the time I reached the top of the tower, wet and barefoot in nothing but my shift, my heart was pounding harder than the flights of spiral stair could justify. I didn't know what to fear, or what to hope for. If the knight won, I would be rescued. I could go home to my family.
But there was only one way for the knight to win.
"I am Sir Frederick of Lorcan!" the knight cried, far below. "I come to liberate Ariana, Princess of Caibryn, whom you hold captive! Turn aside, beast, and you may live. Otherwise, prepare to do battle!"
Rindargeth's voice was a roll of thunder shaped into words. "I may not turn aside, sir knight. Set down your sword or die."
"So be it!"
The battle was… brief. Sir Frederick may have had fine armor, a sharp sword, great skill as a warrior—but it was hard to tell, because none of these things could protect him from dragon fire. Rindargeth knocked him from his horse, blew a single gout of flame, and the battle was over.
I leaned against the parapet, tear-streaked and shuddering, with no intention of coming down—until I saw Rindargeth pounce upon the horse.
I was halfway down the stairs before I knew it, and hit the door of the tower hard enough to bruise my shoulder. Surprised, Rindargeth had just enough time to sweep the knight's blackened body out of my sight with his tail. The horse was pinned and struggling; I ran to him and began tugging and slapping at Rindargeth's claws.
"Do not hurt him! Let him go!"
Rindargeth looked utterly confused, but he released the horse—a beautiful chestnut gelding, who kicked his way to his feet and danced away in fear. His armor seemed to have spared him any significant injury.
"Easy, lad, easy," I cooed, holding out my hands and approaching him slowly. "Do not fear, I will not let you come to any harm."
Rindargeth grumbled above me, a resigned sound. "You aim to make a pet of him, then? I thought he would save me a hunting trip."
"You are not to eat the horse," I said hotly, "nor any other horse that comes here! Please," I added, my voice breaking unexpectedly. The horse had approached me, and was hesitantly bumping his nose into my chest; he let me wrap my arms around his head. I missed my own horse, my own home, my own friends. This poor nervous fellow could be my new friend. "I am very fond of horses," I said, as casually as I could manage, though my voice would not stay even.
"Very well, you may have your pet," Rindargeth said. "We must make our stable inhabitable."
"I will find a place to tie him for now," I said, and led the horse away.
When I returned from making my new friend comfortable, his armor removed and his bridle tied to a makeshift stake in the grass, I walked toward Rindargeth's massive shape on the hillside. Only when I was very close did I realize what he was about—digging a grave for Sir Frederick.
I had managed to avoid seeing him in any detail. I could not avoid it now. I stared, unable to look away, for several seconds before Rindargeth noticed my presence.
"Oh, heavens, child, you should not be here. Go back to the tower."
I turned away, but fell to my knees retching before I could take a step. I began to cry, helpless racking sobs that were part sorrow, part shock, and part anger—deep throbbing anger toward the man whose unknown purpose had done this, the master who had caused this awful horror to be visited on all three of us, dragon and princess and knight.
Rindargeth, changed to human form now, scooped me up and carried me back to the tower and up to my bed. He sat by my bedside and stroked my hair, humming softly and singing a line or two, now and then, in a language I didn't know.
"In the future, I will try to spare the horses," he murmured, "and you may keep as many as you like."
I would be grateful for that indulgence later, but that night I didn't want to think about horses, I didn't want to think about anything. Least of all Sir Frederick of Lorcan, the first knight to die in my service.
But not the last.
PART TWO
Chapter 1
"It's been five years, Rindargeth. Five years today."
"I know, child."
"And I know nothing more now than I did the day you brought me here." The night, rather—I remembered it well, cold stone and starlight, a dragon's blazing eyes in the darkness.
That same dragon tilted his head at me now, making an attempt at light-heartedness. "You know that I am not going to eat you, which you did not know then."
"True." I smiled, glancing up from the trousers I was patching. Not mine, of course; like any self-respecting lady, I wore skirts, though at the moment only a linen shift. I should have been chilled, dressed so lightly; the autumn breeze was strong at this height, and the sun had only just begun to peer over the treetops. Rindargeth, though, carried enough fire within him to radiate through his scales, scenting the air like hot metal and smoke.
"You are not so very unhappy here," Rindargeth said, his voice more hopeful than certain. Voice like a roll of thunder, once incomprehensible to me; I understood it now as easily as my own.
Sunlight spilled over the tree line, and Rindargeth shifted, opening red-brown wings to catch its warmth.
"You are right. My cage is well-gilded." I sighed and set down the trousers. "Five years with no hint of future release, and no knowledge of why I was taken. Five years away from my kin and companions, away from a kingdom that needs me." Five years with no sign of my father, or my betrothed, either or both of whom I had expected to rescue me within days—but that question Rindargeth could not be expected to answer.
"It will not be forever, Ariana," Rindargeth said. "It cannot be." Did I imagine that his voice was less certain than it had been the many other times he had given me this reassurance?
&n
bsp; "Why can't it be?" I had debated with myself all night whether to ask these questions, but he had led me so perfectly to them that now I could not resist. "Tell me, Rindargeth. Clearly you know something of your master's intentions. Please tell me!"
"Ari…" Rindargeth turned his head away. "If I had any master, I'm sure he would not confide in me."
I growled under my breath. He certainly did have a master, and we both knew it. He was only forbidden to speak of the matter. Well, selfish as it might be, I valued my sanity and the restoration of my freedom above Rindargeth's word. Today I was a woman, and no more a child to depend on others for rescue; therefore today I would have answers from him, whatever the cost.
"Rindargeth, you alone in all the world know what your master intends for me. Can you not tell me who he is, and why he keeps me here? Please! I am seventeen years old today, a woman grown by the laws of my people—I have the right to information about what concerns me so closely!"
"I know you do."
"Then tell me!" I rose from my seat on the tower's rampart and knelt at the crook of his front leg, a long-accustomed space for me to occupy. "Rindargeth, tell me, who is your master?"
"There is nothing I can tell you."
"Is he from my own kingdom? Or does he reside somewhere near here—wherever we are? Does he bear a grudge against my father? Why else would he have me taken away?"
"Child, I cannot answer your questions."
"Does he intend to keep me here the rest of my life?" I felt tears sting in my eyes. "I could bear it, you know, if I knew I would be trapped here another year, or five, or ten—even forever, if I knew there was no hope, I could resign myself, however painfully—"
"Ariana, don't—"
"This captivity may be mild in itself, but the uncertainty is outright torture! Please, you claim to love me as your own child—will you let your child suffer?"
Ice & Smoke Page 2
