The Last Dragon: Book One

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

We woke at daylight ready to stir Kendra’s pot. The horses were saddled, our blankets rolled tightly and tied on them, and weapons were at hand. My sword slapped at my side, and on the other hung a quiver. The bows were substandard, but we hadn’t yet replaced them. There was little conversation as we ate a cold breakfast consisting of dried fruit and an apple each.

Alexis was ready to leave, and probably hungry after finishing my apple core. The barren ground held little grass and shrubs, but she could survive a day without food. Still, I slipped her another whole apple when nobody was looking. As I turned to the others, feeling somewhat guilty, Tater had his back to me. He extended his arm, and there was the barest hint of red as he fed his apple to his horse. It took a good man to treat animals like that. The stableman had been correct in suggesting him and was owed my thanks.

The sport and intrigue of Crestfallen seemed a lifetime away, but there would be more ahead, I feared. There were people who needed to explain their actions, and enemies to face. However, with those I rode with, my confidence swelled.

The morning had dawned with the fog hiding the sun and sky. Only damp gray light filtered through. Now, the air itself seemed to grow brighter, and my mood changed from the same damp and gray to one of cloudless sunshine.

Kendra called, “I see it.”

Her observation was unnecessary because ahead lay a hundred more low hills covered in scrub, and then the side of a craggy mountain held Mercia, not as I’d pictured it, but better. Instead of existing on the valley floor, it was built on the sterile rock sides. A raging white river fell down the slope, splitting into four fairly equal parts as it made the final plunge.

Mercia lay there, between four waterfalls. The sunlight glinted and sparkled off the water, and the gray buildings of Mercia blended into the background. All the buildings appeared to be made of the same granite. They clung to the sides of the mountain like barn-swallow nests.

Alexis felt my heels as I moved beside Kendra. “How is the beehive of buzzing?”

She moved her chin to her right a fraction. “Wyverns.”

“More to your left,” I told her as if I knew.

“See any smoke coming from a chimney? They do have kitchens, right?” she asked.

While we searched for signs of people, another thing came to mind. “Anybody up there can see us on this road long before we see them.”

Kendra said, “They know we’re coming.”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

She snorted in the joking way she has since a child. “I know lots you don’t. But, there is one serious thing we need to discuss. Without being too obvious in case, look at the three peaks? Look above—in the sky.”

At least a hundred wyvern flew in tight circles, all together. My impression was they were upset. “Did you do something?”

“Not intentionally or knowingly. But I don’t think it is natural for them to act that way.”

I followed up with another question. “The dragon, the pounding in your head. Is it louder?”

“Yes, but that’s not all. It knows I’m near. There is excitement and . . . there is anticipation, you might call it.”

My sister, the Dragon Queen. “You can tell all that from what you hear in your head? Does it scare you?”

Kendra shrugged and closed her eyes for a second, then spoke again in a far-off voice, “It scares me. The dragon. But there are other beings trying to scare me away from here, and as we get closer, they are threatening. Telling me not to go to Mercia or we will all die.”

“That would be those aligned with the Blue Lady.”

She didn’t answer. Her breathing was shallow and slow. Her eyes were closed, but her fingers gripped the reins so tightly her fingers were white. I couldn’t fathom what was happening to her, but if she needed my help, she would let me know.

Elizabeth turned to say something, and the words seemed to stick in her mouth. She yanked her horse to a stop and leaped off. She was sprinting to Kendra before her feet hit the ground. She called, “What’s wrong?”

Kendra didn’t answer.

Tater rushed up behind her, “Help her get down before she falls and breaks her neck.”

The packhorse reared up and snapped the reins. It landed on all four feet and ran off the road into the scrub, the cargo tied to its back bouncing and jostling until it slipped a girth strap and the entire pack leaned to one side. The horse continued to buck and sway as it ran.

The other horses also acted skittishly, but we didn’t have time to deal with them. Tater reached for Kendra’s waist and pulled her to him as Elizabeth freed her feet from the stirrups. I watched and worried.

Elizabeth freed the ties for her wool blanket stored behind Kendra’s saddle and spread it on the ground. Tater lowered her to the ground, and Elizabeth knelt at her side and examined the eyes rolled back in my sister’s head, the slack mouth, and limp body. “What’s wrong with her?

“She’s fighting them,” Tater said.

Tater, who was supposed to know nothing about Kendra and myself seemed to know far more than he should. Distrust welled, and I stepped in front of him. “What do you know?”

“Know? Nothing, but what I hear.”

Elizabeth shouted, “Down boys! What’s happening? I’m not asking again.”

Tater locked eyes with me for an instant, then turned away as if deciding to obey her instead of speaking to me, which was probably the right choice. He said, “Can’t you hear it?”

I heard a faint breeze rustling across the landscape, a few faraway birds, and nothing else.

Elizabeth had Kendra’s head cradled in her hands. She turned my way. “Get me something to use as a pillow. Tater, what do you hear?”

“Anger. Fear. Maybe some hope mixed in.”

“What else?” she snapped at him.

“There are walls being built. Walls to keep her away from Mercia. There are several of them attacking her mind. Mages, I think.” He seemed unstable and distracted, his voice coming in disjointed sentences. His knees crumpled.

I caught him in a bear hug before he hit the ground, then placed him beside Kendra and grabbed my blanket off Alexis for their heads. A wild look all around revealed nobody in sight. The wind picked up, blowing dust made the morning feel cold again.

Elizabeth said to me, “Start talking.”

She soon knew what we did. I held nothing back despite her eyes flashing in anger at learning we’d withheld information. She was not angry because of the information but because we’d betrayed her trust. I knelt beside her and watched Kendra’s face as I talked. The words spilled from my mouth, and I couldn’t stop them. She finally placed a hand gently on my shoulder and told me she’d heard enough.

It was just as well. I’d said it all and was repeating myself.

Tater sat up, eyes so wide his eyeballs were ready to pop out of his head. His hands went to his forehead and pressed. “Closer.”

“Closer?” Elizabeth repeated. “Closer to what?”

“M-Mercia.” He fell back and lay still.

Elizabeth said, “What do you think that means?”

I stood and allowed my mind to go blank or tried to. Then, as if Tater placed a thought inside, I repeated, “Kendra wants us to take her closer to Mercia.”

“Why?”

“They want to keep her away, so she wants to go there. That’s a guess.”

“A damned good one, I think,” Elizabeth said. “I can’t lift her up to Alexis. You have to help.”

I called Alexis, and she came to me, wary and frightened. I took her reins and patted her neck as I talked to calm her. We stood Kendra up while supporting her and then lifted her to lay across the saddle. Elizabeth steadied both her and the horse until I managed to climb on while moving Kendra over the front of the saddle to lay more on Alexis’ neck.

Elizabeth said, “I can’t leave Tater here.”

Some things are meant to be done alone. I turned my horse and walked slowly away from my only two friends and directly into danger. My mind strained to hear what Kendra and Tater did, even a wisp of the buzzing of bees, or whispers of a wyvern, let alone the drums of a dragon.

Ahead stood Mercia. The details of the gray stone buildings grew clearer with each step. There stood six or seven huge structures that were mini-castles, their walls the same gray as the slate of their roofs. All the surrounding buildings were smaller imitations. The streets were paved with the same gray granite, making the city blend in with the granite cliffs. If it was not for the straight lines of the buildings, Mercia would be nearly invisible because of the color.

Only a few splashes of tint stood out. Each of the largest structures had pennants or flags that stood out against the starkness of the rest. The four waterfalls gave the city a magical appearance. But, despite my intense observations, I saw nobody. Not a single person, horse, dog, or pig.

However, the wyverns that had been flying in tight circles began flying faster and screeching, first one, then two, and now a hundred. They shrieked and screamed, and a few broke ranks and flew away.

A stone bridge crossed where the water from the falls pooled and reformed itself into a river that flowed along the base of the cliff in the direction of the sea. The bridge arched, as had so many others, although this one was far larger. At the far end stood a massive wall built along the edge of the far side of the raging river. The city gate.

One glance down at the whitewater tearing under the bridge assured me nobody would attempt to swim across. The flow from four waterfalls raged across the solid rock in the channel it had cut. The wall across the bridge, again built of huge granite blocks, stretched out to either side of the bridge, and a giant gate stood closed.

A rampart along the top provided the fortifications where an army could defend against any who crossed. That rampart provided safety from spears, arrows, and anything else. Yet, it allowed them to fire down on any attackers, who would be herded into the narrow space created by the bridge. No matter how large an army attacked, only eight or ten could attack at one time as they crossed that bridge.

My mind appreciated the defensive construction while ignoring the fact that it was the gate we must pass through to reach Mercia. There were no soldiers on the ramparts, nor any I could see in the city. It remained empty. I was aware that if we crossed the bridge, soldiers who were hiding could leap into sight and release a rain of arrows.

We hadn’t come all that way to stop now, and there seemed no place to go but ahead. Alexis sensed my mood. She took a single step onto the bridge and pulled to a stop. Without me telling her to do so, she took one more hesitant step, then another. A quiver in her shoulder warned me to hold on because she might whirl and run at the slightest provocation.

We continued like that until we reached the highest point of the arc. Alexis came to a stop as if she’d hit a wall. I used my heels, but she didn’t move. I cajoled her. Threatened.

Then Kendra groaned. Her body tensed, and her head turned enough to look at me. “Get me down.”

There was no sway in her words, no way to argue and refuse. She used her arms to scoot off the horse’s neck until her weight caused her to slide down without help. I leaped off and helped her feet touch the bridge. She stood on wobbly legs.

“Sit?” I offered.

“No,”

She said no more. Her eyes were on the city, darting from one place to another, but she needed my strength to remain standing. It was as if she used her mind on other things besides her body.

She stiffened, standing erect and rigid, her eyes now closed. She screamed, sounding like a miniature of the wyverns in the distance. My eyes turned to them, and their sudden silence after her scream. They were still there, but barely. Each of them was flying away, their wings no longer making lazy flaps, but instead, they flew with powerful strokes. They flew for the jagged peaks to the north as if they offered protection.

Another sound drew my attention. A deeper thrum almost at the lower limit of what I could perceive. It rose in volume until my ears convinced me they did not hear it. The sound came from inside my head. It was more than sound. It had feeling.

Kendra threw her arms wide.

The thrumming ceased.

Another sound replaced it. The new roar was in my ears, and above me. I looked up. Higher. Above Mercia rocks, boulders, and slabs of granite shifted and moved. Some fell, others tumbled, and more slid down the mountainside, all heading for the city of Mercia.

The avalanche created the new sound of thousands of rocks and boulders tumbling down the mountain. To my horror, the first rocks went through the city like a bull through a haystack. The largest struck buildings and threw the blocks used to build them into the air like a child throwing sand at a beach.

Then others did the same. The buildings of Mercia didn’t even slow down the largest blocks and slabs. I glance to my right and found the sky empty of wyverns. Then I looked up to the disturbance at the top of the mountain above Mercia, where another roar drew my attention.

Movement told me where to look. The head of a dragon shook itself free of rock, and it roared in anger as it continued to twist and turn, dislodging more rocks and boulders. Many tumbled down after the others. I heard them crashing into buildings, and a few rolled as far as the river, where they plunged in, but I saw none of that or the destruction they caused. My eyes refused to leave the dragon.

It lurched forward, sending another avalanche down the mountainside, while it wriggled forward and managed to push upward. With a great thrust, the rock above shattered with a loud crack, and fell away. The dragon crawled ahead, where it managed to stand.

Wings spread. Each wing extended a distance greater than from wingtip to wingtip of the largest wyvern. The massive head was wide, bearing no resemblance to wyvern. It opened its mouth and exposed teeth as long as my arm, and it roared in defiance. The anger in that sound brought me chills.

More boulders rolled down the side of the mountain, through the city, and continued tumbling until they reached the river. Several struck the rock wall across the bridge, and a slab the size of a house hit the gate so hard it sat askew, leaving a gap horses could walk through.

Kendra said, “If you're scared, leave.”

My feet refused to move. “Leave?”

“They’re fighting us.”

“Us?”

She didn’t answer. She stood on the highest part of the bridge in full view of anyone in Mercia looking at her, but even after the rocks knocking over and flattening houses, nobody ran into the streets. However, I didn’t believe it empty.

The dragon roared again, then moved the great wings slowly up and down as if testing them. The skin of the beast was dimpled, the same color gray as the rock it emerged from, and the tongue red. The wings beat faster.

Then, as if groggy and slow, the dragon pushed itself forward again, and over the lip. Air filled the underside of the wings like windsocks at a festival. The body of the dragon left the mountain, and with one sweep of the giant wings, the dragon ceased to fall and flew. Another beat of the wings and it rose a little and gained forward speed.

“Free,” Kendra muttered.

“What about those you were fighting?”

“They’re coming after me.”

“What?”

She pointed, “Isn’t it beautiful?”

The dragon now flew higher than the peak above Mercia. It slowed and swung in a wide circle. The head peered down, watching Mercia, then it roared again.

“We’d better get off this bridge,” Kendra said.

“They’re coming after us?”

“No, the dragon is going to destroy it all.”