The Last Dragon: Book Four

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The fishing boat ceased to move ahead. Instead of the sail keeping the boat steady as it plowed ahead, it bobbed and rolled with each movement of the wind or sea. We were all huddled together near the bow, under the shade of the tarp.

Will said, “We have options. Better that we figured this out now than after reaching port to find a company of soldiers waiting for us.”

Elizabeth asked Captain to display his charts again. He removed them from the waterproof tube and unrolled the first. When it didn’t contain what she wanted, he allowed it to spiral back into the rolled shape of a tube and spread another.

Elizabeth pointed to Lander at the very bottom. “The map ends just below there. What is to the south?”

Captain hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I do not have a map nor been there, but all sailors talk. The sea goes on and on. A great city-kingdom lies there to the south, a powerful nation called Malawi.”

At the mention of the name, five sets of eyes went to the stash of weapons leaning against the hull at the bow. They looked at my damaged sword, presented by our king to me. The singing-sword. Made of Malawian steel, the finest in the world.

I was stunned but shouldn’t have been. I’d known it was far to the south. Elizabeth had even mentioned it when she told me about fitting all the maps together, but she had mentioned several kingdoms with unknown names, and it had escaped me.

My heart pounded and my breath halted for so long I almost passed out. Malawi, the place where my sword had been made. Where it had been enchanted to sing when it encountered Prince Angles’ sword, or whatever the right word was for the keening we both heard. I couldn’t speak.

The others were a little better off.

Elizabeth said to Captain with a forced calm, “A great sea kingdom, you say? With sailors, so they also have a navy?”

Captain realized he’d struck a nerve and just nodded as he watched for more strained reactions.

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment and a faint smile grew. “I have the basics of a plan to discuss with all of you. Please allow me to provide the bones of it, and then we can flesh it out.”

Everyone waited. My mind was on my sword. As long as the boat sailed for Malawi her plan would sound good to me.

“Here is the outline. This boat will sail to the Landor coast tonight where Kendra and Anna will depart. They will make their way to Landor City and Anna will communicate what they find to Damon, using their unique communication skills. They will do nothing but observe and report.”

Kendra gave her a curt nod of agreement.

Elizabeth continued, “The Young Mage probably has plans ready for Landor, but we are going to leap ahead to Malawi, where he probably has only begun. Captain will either steer the boat to Malawi or sell us the boat and we’ll sail there. I’m sure Will can manage to hug the coastline until we reach it.”

“I’ll take you,” Captain huffed. “But I cannot remain. My family.”

“Good. Will must go with Damon and me because he will not leave my side because he has an oath to the king to uphold, so instead of fighting that directive, I’ll compromise, but request that he reconsider. He can better serve me, our group, and his king if he accompanies Kendra and Anna who will be alone in a foreign land. We, meaning I, will attempt to contact the Malawian authorities and secure their help. The plan will develop from there.”

I relaxed slightly. While my sister would go to Landor, I’d be sailing to where my sword was created. The nick in the blade might even be repaired there, but there might be more information about it to learn. Most of all, I might learn about why it ‘sang’ when near Prince Angle’s sword. Instead of worrying about Anna and Kendra, my mind stayed with my sword.

I said, “Are we sure the Young Mage will not have people waiting there also?”

“I expect he will,” she said. “But at the beginning stages. An attack there wouldn’t happen until Dire, Fairbanks, and Landor are conquered and officially part of Kaon, or well on their way to defeat. Malawi is far enough away that he will need those kingdoms to send his army. Every day’s travel away is harder for any army.”

“So, the people supporting him there will be an advance group. Spies, if you will.”

“Exactly,” Elizabeth said. “At least, that is my hope.”

Will spoke with reluctance and controlled excitement, “Forgive me for not realizing we were sailing into a trap. As a military leader, I have failed in my primary duty to prevent Princess Elizabeth from entering danger. Now, I believe protecting Kendra and Anna will best protect my princess. I’ll accompany them to Landor.”

“I didn’t expect that,” Elizabeth replied.

Will said, “The greater danger to you and your mission for Dire lies in Landor. That is where I should be.”

I watched the shifting in the conversation and the plans devised which were like the sands in the desert. From one moment to another, they were never exactly the same. Elizabeth, in her new role, didn’t order everyone to their tasks. She gave a vague outline and modified things as everyone made suggestions.

Even Captain made a few. He’d turned the boat in the direction of Landor again, but had eased off on the sails so we would arrive after dark. He added, “I heard mention of Landor City earlier. There is no city to speak of. What is to se seen there spreads out from a fortification constructed on a stone outcrop high above the seaport. It is a vast defensive castle more than a city.”

Will asked, “Most residents live within the walls.”

“That’s true enough,” Captain said. “These days, there’s a fair amount living outside because the population outgrew the walls. There are docks and a shipyard or two.”

Elizabeth said, “Both Landor and Malawi are ruled by kings. Fairbanks too, but mostly it is small family farms on marshy land with interconnected lakes, small rivers, and streams. There are sayings about you can’t go anywhere in Fairbanks without getting your feet wet.”

While they talked, I filled the canteens. It was a task that pleased me. Easy to do and helped us all. The water that seemed to flow from my fingertip was cool, tasted good, and was clear. It also didn’t make us ill. Drinking water normally was like gambling with experienced cheaters. You might get away with it once, twice, or even three times, but sooner rather than later, you would cramp at the very least. From there, it could be days in an outhouse or even death.

Water is a carrier of a hundred sicknesses. Bad water kills. That’s why we add a fair measure of wine to it. Drinking water treated with wine seldom makes people sick. Or we drank beer or ale.

While the plans were discussed, dissected, and adjusted, I played with my magic, stretching my abilities, trying new things. Ahead of the boat, I made a small rainstorm the size of a small ship and then reduced it in size by half. My eyes watched it as I shrank it more, forcing it down to a few steps across and no taller than my waist. It resisted going smaller. I insisted.

I held it in place, just off the bow, and gathered more magic and compressed it again. It was now knee high and one large step from side to side. But that wasn’t enough. I held it in place with one part of my mind and used another to gather lightning from the air around us. It was mostly gathered in the dry sail, hidden in the cracks and seams.

I moved it to the tiny cloud and forced it to gather until like a kernel of dried corn, it popped. The difference was that my tiny cloud exploded in a sound that forced my hands over my ears. The surface of the water vaporized in a column of steam, and my raincloud was gone.

Six people in the boat looked at me. I shrugged and said, “Just experimenting.”

“Sinking this boat with your experiments is not a good idea,” Anna said.

“Can you swim?” I asked.

She curled one corner of her lip. “How far?”

Everyone laughed at her answer but me. I suddenly thought of the Slave-Master and how he knew more of magic than me. Not how to do it, but how to make use of those who did. It seemed everyone knew more than me. I sorely needed a teacher before I put a hole in our boat, and we sank.

I reviewed what I’d heard or witnessed other mages do. Storms, for certain. Lightning as weapons. But also, fire. Fast-travel between Waystones. They made arrows either hit or miss targets, and they moved about in daylight without being seen.

A pattern of sorts formed in my mind. Mages, who always seemed so composed had powers used for war. Were their powers intended for war or had mages modified them or only used magic for that purpose?

That was an interesting question. Magic could be used for good. A rainstorm over an area with crops that needed water was a simple example. We were on a fishing boat. A use of magic might fill the nets. Information about an illness might be spread to other kingdoms and a cure returned. I found the list of magic for good endless. Was it always used for evil?

I didn’t know. What I began to see was that the mages I was familiar with were always in the company of the powerful, the generals, the kings, and queens. Their magic was used to enhance that power—and it seemed that the mere threat of magic was all that was required most of the time. Who in their right mind would fight against it? I chuckled over that thought.

Thinking back, I remembered an incident. I’d been on one of the high ramparts at Crestfallen looking to the west where the mountains stood. A black wall of clouds approached. I turned to go to my quarters when I noted a mage lurking near a window. He also looked to the west. On my way, I took to the back stairs and as I passed an alcove, the same mage was telling a Royal in hushed tones that he would call up a storm.

“Call up a storm,” those were his exact words. Sure enough, the very storm I’d seen building in the distance arrived later that day. Crops were destroyed by the flooding. I could have predicted it. The mage may have enhanced the storm—or he may have done nothing.

Maybe mages were not as powerful as generally believed. Maybe they claimed natural occurrences as their own creations. That storm I’d seen might have been a natural phenomenon, or perhaps it was enhanced by that mage, or he may have created the entire thing. Not always, but there were times they could lie and who could cry foul? Especially if they claimed responsibility after the occurrence.

That was the easy way to do magic. Take credit after people were convinced you could. A tree might fall across a road. A mage who had nothing to do with it might apologize for felling the tree accidentally. It would be so easy to convince most people.

While that might be true of some, I’d seen, felt, and fought the storm that held us from sailing to Dagger. That magic had been real. That was the creation of the mages on the ships Kendra’s dragon sunk.

Or was it? Could the mages have been props for the Young Mage? Actors playing a role? The storm could have been created by the Young Mage who remained in Kaon, the only mage I knew who controlled real power to perform magic that powerful.

It seemed everything I knew needed to be reevaluated. I trusted nothing. Not even things seen with my own eyes. My hand reached out and drew the sword from my scabbard. It flashed in the cloudless air.

Instead of just looking at it with admiration, I used a thread of magic to reach out and contact the tip. A tiny flame ignited there. I snuffed it and used a tendril, a soft and inquiring link to begin at the tip and slowly move along the cutting edge until I reached the guard.

My magic flowed up the handle to the pommel. There were no stores of power inside, such as Essence from a dragon. No source of power in it at all.

If that was true, how had the sword sung when in range of the other of the pair? Just as Prince Angle’s had sung back. There must be some sort of power behind all physical reaction. I probed harder.

The handle was vacant of magic. Inside the leather-wrapped handle was the same.

My mental inspection moved along the flat of the blade, where a minute amount of an unknown power concentrated. It felt like a sound just slightly above what a man can hear. The sword blade constantly vibrated and that caused a keening too high-pitched to hear.

When it came into close proximity of the other sword of the pair, the harmonics that were ever-present joined together like tuning forks placed beside each other and the swords sang.

Kendra joined me at the railing. “Feeling down? Or ready to stab someone?”

“Just the opposite. I’ve figured out a few things,” I told her. Then I went on and explained my thoughts. She was the kind of person who listened without making judgments.

When I’d finished, she said, “You have been doing some serious thinking. Now, if you could solve my problem.”

“Going into Landor scaring you?”

She chuckled. “It should. But no, my problem is the dragon we have not named. It now refuses to even fly to feed itself.”

“Have you considered it is hurt? Or that it’s so old it cannot fly?”

“That is my problem. If either of those things is true, I have to go to it. This is my way of asking if you’ll go along.”

“Of course, I will.” There was no hesitation in my answer, and she smiled softly. We were in some things together.

Anna joined us as if she sensed our private conversation had ended. She said, “Sorry to be so quiet for the last couple of days. I think my mind has discovered a new trick.”

“Trick?”

“Instead of words, I can form pictures,” she said. “Since Damon makes me learn the letters, and by the way, I’m ready for the next one, I’ve been practicing.”

It didn’t sound impressive to me. I did it all the time.

*A forest with pine trees filled my mind. A deer grazed, sniffed the air, and bounded away.*

The image was so perfect, I could smell the scent of pine trees, the air was chill on my cheeks, and I heard the twitters of chipmunks. It turned to her in awe.

“I saw that forest when we crossed the mountain pass when we left Trager. I added the smells and sounds as I remember them.”

Kendra asked me, “You saw, heard, and smelled what she described?”

“And even felt the chilly air.”

Kendra said, “I wish I could sense that with you.”

Anna smirked, “And I wish I had my very own dragon, one so powerful nobody would ever cause harm to my family, which is you two. Oh, and it would fly to Kaon and eat the Young Mage. But he’d probably hop into one of his Waystones and escape.”

We laughed at her youthful exuberance, but there was truth in her every word. The sun was setting, the sky turned shades of reds and oranges, and the light grew dusk. Captain said, “Land up ahead.”

“Landor?” Elizabeth asked.

“Better be, or you need to find a boat with a superior sailor at the helm.” Captain laughed at his own joke.

Elizabeth still sat beside Will and asked Kendra, “Do you have any idea of what you’re going to do in Landor?”

Kendra said, “No. Not one thing, but I will listen to people talking, be nosey, and stay out of trouble. I’m not going to talk to royalty, cause any trouble, or anything to draw attention to us. I’ll search for anything that might help when you and Damon get there. I’ll be listening for anything to do with magic or the health of the king and avoid anything that reeks of the Young Mage.”

Elizabeth said, “That might be one of the most useful things that can be done. Did I hear your dragon is ill?”

“It won’t talk to me, fly or eat,” she said.

A few lights appeared in the distance, not ships, but houses on the shore. They helped guide us as we turned north. Ever since rounding the bottom Dead Isle, we’d sailed north and east, so Landor wouldn’t be far away.

I went to sit beside Will. “Take care of them.”

“You really don’t want to be separated, do you?”

“Not for a moment. The idea of going to Malawi has me excited because of my sword.”

He said, “I know yours is special, both because the king gave it to you and because it sings, which is amazing and wonderful, but I have a request too.”

“Anything.”

“As a soldier, I value fine weapons.”

Before he could finish the request, I did it for him, “If there are swords for sale made of good steel like mine, I’ll bring one to you.”

Before reaching Landor, we passed five other fishing boats, all small and much like the one we were in. More lights appeared on the shore and it was getting later, full-dark behind us. Ahead, a massive display of light, candles in windows, cooking fires in fireplaces, oil lamps, torches, and probably other things displayed a stone wall high on a hill. Castle Landor.

It was a city in itself. Outside the wall, far below the top of the ramparts, were more lights, smaller and fewer, which were the overflow of people. We sailed directly for all of that and started hearing the sounds of civilization.

First, we heard two men shouting at each other. Shortly after that the sounds of a group singing, or trying to sing, the same song drifted over the water to us. They were a ruckus, out of tune, and it seemed only a few knew all the words until it came to the chorus when everyone joined in, sprinkled with drunk laughter.

I said with feigned enthusiasm, “It sounds like you three are going to have fun.”

Captain sailed unerringly to the docks, and in the gloom, eased the boat to the end of one. Kendra, Anna, and Will quickly climbed out. We handed them their things and almost before we could say good-bye, Captain pushed us away and used the tiller to push the boat out from the others.

He released the sail and pulled it back to gather air. He was a master in maneuvering the boat without help and quickly had us sailing into deeper water where nobody would see or remember us having been there.

It felt like something had gotten stuck in my throat. My breath came hard, tears flowed and dripped from my chin. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. I refused to turn and look back.

Later, the lights grew smaller in the distance as I imagined the three of them entering a city where they had never been. I tried and failed to imagine what they’d encounter in the next few days.

Elizabeth was at my side, not talking. Her arm was over my shoulders, her body next to mine. She understood my feelings. We stayed that way for a long, long time.