The Last Dragon: Book Four

CHAPTER TWELVE

The column of black swirling clouds and lightning was gone. I’d been warned by the mage. Surely, he didn’t expect to catch me in the maelstrom. However, if anything, it only speeded up my sister and me even though I’d warned him with my power.

I shouldn’t have. Now I had revealed that I had more magic than they had ever suspected. There would be no more warnings. They would throw all they had at me.

It increased my determination and fear at the same time. My emerging skills were no match for his, which were probably learned over a lifetime, while mine were almost nonexistent a month ago. I was as scared as much as impressed.

“Did you do that?” Kendra asked, her eyes fixed on the black storm. “Have you learned a new trick?”

“No. It was a warning for me.” Another thought occurred. “Didn’t you see that mage back there with your powers?”

“It wasn’t there. I looked.” Kendra huffed and puffed at my side. She managed to say as she looked where the black storm had exploded into nothingness, “Can you do that?”

“Not yet,” I said as if I would someday.

“Where are they?” She asked.

I knew she wanted to know where Anna, Elizabeth, Will, Coffin, and his sons were. I couldn’t concentrate well enough to reach out to Anna, as if she could tell me. Her best answer would probably be to tell me the Brownlands, or something similar. The other answer would be something like, “We’re in the desert, silly. Or, we just passed by a big rock.”

I managed to move my mouth and say, “Looking for,” then I gasped for another breath, “us.” My legs threatened to give out, my chest heaved, and I tried to keep up with my sister who never tired.

We were walking now, stumbling more than walking, and Kendra pointed to a small rise. From up on top, we might see our friends. It also meant we’d have to climb to the top. I was exhausted, mentally and physically. I pointed to the small valley between them and headed that way. Kendra didn’t object—but she cast a dissatisfied look at me that I ignored.

When it was near midday, we halted on a barren flat. Halted means we were worn out and couldn’t go much farther so we collapsed beside each other. I said, “Have your dragon fly over so they can find us.”

“You want them to do all the work?”

“Have they been idly sitting in a rowboat for two days while you and I found a way to rescue them? Yes, they can search for us. Besides, that’s what I told Anna to do. Look for the dragon and we will be below it.”

Kendra punched my shoulder, none too easy. I might have a bruise, but that was okay. There are strange ways brothers and sisters tell each other they love each other. Hers was to punch me. Mine was to hold back my instinct to punch her harder.

The dragon came into view and started flying in lazy circles. *Anna, we are under the dragon.*

*I see it. We’re not far away but have no water. Will wonders if we should return to the lake and get our water jars.*

I said to Kendra, “They are out of the water. Will says they should go back to the lake because they have no water.”

She snickered, then laughed. I joined in. We never had to worry about the lack of water again. I reached out to Anna again, *We have plenty of water. Just come find us, but we are going to keep walking so the army can’t catch us. Just follow the dragon.*

They didn’t catch up with us right away, but near mid-afternoon, we spotted them on a converging angle. They were drooping with exhaustion and thirst. Their heads hung, their movements were slow, and they didn’t notice us until they were nearly upon us.

Kendra and I shouted our greetings. They nodded or lifted a tired finger or two in acknowledgment. Will held up a water jug and said in a voice that rasped, “Water.”

I hadn’t realized how thirsty they were, or I’d have gone to them instead of waiting. I’d already refilled our water twice and they were almost empty again, so I should have known. A person required two or three large water bottles a day in the desert—or more.

I said to Will, remove the cap of your jar. In an act intended to show off, I placed my finger at the lip of his jar and quickly filled it, the water seemingly flowing from the tip of my finger as I focused the concentration of moisture there. While ignoring the astonished looks and curiosity, I filled them all. They were too thirsty to complain about my dirty finger or question us.

The old fisherman and his sons had accompanied them. I’d expected they would row their boat back out on the lake again, but if the army arrived in boats tomorrow, there would be no escape. They had accepted water from me, their expressions curious, too. Each son touched the tip of my finger as I concentrated the water there as if they thought they could plug the hole that had to be at the end of my finger.

Just because my sense of humor is like the soldier who cannot stay in step with the others of his unit, I pretended that when they touched my fingertip, the water slowed . . . then stopped. When they removed their finger, the water flowed again. I got away with it three or four times until Anna mouthed off and ruined my fun.

Will had emptied his water jug in one huge drink, so I refilled it, and then all the rest. We fell to the ground exhausted, with no blankets, no food, nothing but the clothing we wore. A glance told me there was no firewood. It would be a cold night.

Elizabeth took another sip and caught my eye. “It does not taste like your finger.”

“How would you know that?” I teased.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, Damon. Kendra, also.” Elizabeth had slipped into her princess mode, and instead of being annoyed, it pleased me. Her change in attitude reminded me of our days in Crestfallen when our biggest problem was to figure out which male royal was escorting which young woman to a ball.

Kendra said, “We are all going to be hungry and cold tonight, but at least, we will have water.”

Will, who had been quiet since arriving, said, “If my guess is correct, we will reach Ander late tomorrow, or the next morning at the latest.”

Then old fisherman scratched the whiskers on the bottom of his chin as he grunted for attention. When he had it, he said, “It’ll be cold as hell tonight. If we don’t get an early start, we’ll spend another cold night out here and none of us will want that.”

I noticed the three boys kept to themselves. Not that they were scared to talk, or were not part of our group, but the presence of Princess Elizabeth overwhelmed them. I watched their eyes, and they seldom strayed far from her. Impressed didn’t begin to explain their feelings and fascination.

All that was understandable.

The water revived everyone. Will glanced at Elizabeth as if imploring her to talk. His eyes flicked to the side as if surrendering power.

She nodded slightly and said, “As Coffin told us, it will be a long walk and a cold night. The more distance we move today, the quicker we get to Ander.”

Coffin said, “Can you do that trick with the water whenever we need it?”

I nodded.

He started to walk and hesitated as he faced all of us but spoke to me. “Do you think those following us have a mage that knows that trick with them?”

I turned but saw nothing.

He continued, “Just before joining up with you two, I saw them behind us. They were moving slow.”

“How many?” Elizabeth asked.

“Fifteen or twenty, at a guess.”

She turned to me. “Could you sneak back there and provide water, so they don’t die? And make sure there is no mage with them?”

Kendra said, “If he does give them water, will they come after us or go back?”

Surprisingly, Coffin answered, “If it was me and I was a soldier, I’d agree to go back to the lake and thank you for the chance. Most of those serving in the army are not our enemies. Some were our friends and neighbors during better times.”

“What are you suggesting?” Will asked.

Coffin said, “My guess is they’re too worn out and thirsty to fight. By morning most will be dead, and they know it. They are not our enemy today. The mage and you could slip back, offer them enough water to get back, and follow our tracks until you catch up.”

I turned to my sister. “Why didn’t you think of that? You’re the one with the empathy in our family.”

She said, “I did think of it and was going to suggest it as soon as I could think of a way to force a kind thought into your hard head. Why are you still here? Didn’t Will say we have to hurry?”

There were a dozen retorts to her glib answers, but none were exactly right. She would turn and twist any of them and make me look more a fool. I said, “Come on, Will. We have some water to deliver.”

Yes, I heard Kendra and Elizabeth laughing but refused to look behind. We followed our tracks back along the hard ground. Will said, “It would have been easier to let them die.”

I kept walking. The right words eluded me again. Finally, I said, “It would have been easier today. But what about tomorrow? And the day after? How easy would it be to know we could have saved them and didn’t?”

Before Will answered, I saw movement. It was the group of them.

We walked side by side with the energy supplied to us by the water. They shuffled, stumbled, heads down, and as I saw past the larger group, there was a smaller one lagging behind, and one man sprawled motionless in the sand. One of them spotted us and grunted as he pointed.

We didn’t pause or respond until we were well within the range of an arrow. None had drawn a bow. They waited.

I called from ten steps away, “Without water, all of you will be dead by morning.”

The call didn’t change their stance or posture. None drew a weapon. Another slumped to the sand on his knees, and as he did, a second followed.

I picked out the officer by the gold piping on his uniform. If anything, he looked worse off than the others but refused to fall. Will and I walked closer.

“Are you in charge?” I asked.

He nodded.

“In the army of my kingdom, an officer cannot lie to his men. Is that the same here?”

He nodded again, slowly.

“I am here to offer you a deal. A way to escape death today.”

He looked at me imploringly, then nodded a third time.

His mouth was probably too dry to speak. I said, “I can give you water. Enough to revive you and get you back to the lake. All I ask is that you go back and leave us alone.”

Will said, loud enough for all to hear, “He is a mage and can make water. If you do not accept his water, you will die before sunrise. If you follow us again, he will strike you with a bolt of lightning that will turn you to charcoal. Do you all understand?”

I wanted to tell him that I could do that I wouldn’t do that with the lightning, not against people. But his reasoning in threatening them was sound. He whispered to me, “Make a show of filling their water.”

A show? Then I understood. I approached the nearest and threw my arms wide and mumbled nonsense, then concentrated enough water to shoot from the end of my finger in a thin stream and fall onto the sand where it darkened, turned a patch of sand darker as it puddled, sank in, then began evaporating.

The nearest soldier stumbled closer, his water jug held out in front of him. I filled it and moved on to the next and next. Will and I went to the ones who had fallen. One was dead. The other sucked his jug dry so fast I had to refill it on the spot. We went to the group that had lagged behind the others and filled theirs, then refilled them before returning to the main group.

I went to the officer and asked, “Are you going to follow us?”

The water had already brought new life into him. He stood tall and said, “You have my word. Besides, every man here owes you his life and I hold that debt seriously. If we ever meet on the battlefield, I will throw down my weapons.”

I liked the sound of that. Too bad I couldn’t do the same with the entire army. When those near him repeated the oath, it sounded even better. I topped off a few jugs and caught Will’s eye. The late afternoon sun glinted from his eyes as if he’d been crying. But Will was a retired soldier and far too jaded for that. The redness around his eyes was probably a sunburn and not due to wiping the tears away.

Neither of us looked back to see if they followed. We didn’t need to.

We caught up with our group well before dark, but not before the searing heat of the day turned to a comfortable warm. We greeted them, I refilled the jars, and we kept walking even after the sun set and the temperature turned chilly. Without wood to burn, we’d be colder as soon as we stopped walking.

I could generate a little warmth, enough for myself, and one or two others, but not the whole group. There might be a way, but I didn’t know it and didn’t trust myself to try. As fatigued as my mind was, I might set them all on fire.

By morning, we’d shiver. Knowing what was to come kept us trudging along well into the night. There was nothing to slow us, no hills, valleys, gorges, or anything else. In the starlight, the ground ahead was clear, flat, and uneventful. Walking was easier than slowing and being cold.

Will said we should have taken clothing from the soldiers. I objected but knew he was right. It was another missed opportunity.

Kendra asked me, “Can you make it rain with warm water?”

“Maybe. Then what? We’d be wet and standing in cold air.”

“I was thinking that you could keep it up. I mean, raining all night.”

It seemed plausible. Then it didn’t. I said, “I could try, but if I can’t do it, we spend a wet, cold night.”

“You’re right. It was just a thought,” she said as she fell into step with me. Her arms were hugging her chest to fight off the cold. “Can you make it warmer with the wind?”

“Where would I draw the heat from?”

She said, “I don’t know what that means.”

“This is as new to me as it is to you, but from what little I’ve heard, magic is not free.”

She snorted. “I know it comes from essence from dragons as well as you.”

“That’s not exactly true, Kendra. Magic draws from one resource and puts it somewhere else. I draw water from leaves, underground, the air, and then concentrate it in one place. Essence gives me the power to do that.”

She walked for a while and finally said, “I’m beginning to understand. I’ve had it wrong all this time. It’s like food provides the fuel to run but food does not make you run. No, that’s a stupid comparison.”

“Not really,” I told her. “It gets the idea across. It’s why a dragon or Wyvern is needed.”

Kendra pouted. “If we had a Waystone, we could just jump through the air to Ander.”

“I don’t know how to use them. For all I know, there will be a hundred mages waiting for us in Ander.” I regretted the words as they spilled from my mouth as if they had a life of their own.