The Last Dragon: Book Two

CHAPTER FOUR

K endra and I took the time to search all around what had been the floor of the cave searching for more information, even to the point of making the dragon move out of the way so we could search where she had been resting. We found evidence of the mages’ previous habitation in the forms of scraps of food, bowls, three individual shoes which seemed an odd number, several robes, and a winch for raising things up from the city below on the plain. Mages had probably spent extensive time up there caring for the dragon, feeding and watering it, and perhaps studying it. One of them had probably been here all the time, to care for the dragon in case it required assistance, food, water, or sedation.

What we did not find, was anything pointing to a visitor in the last day, or since the dragon had escaped. As strange as it might sound when speaking of it in the future, I’d have rather had an irate mage leap out at us from hiding and throw a few lightning bolts our way than the unknowns we faced. The feeling of being watched was persistent and upsetting.

The dragon stood. Its head crooked to look at me, then it turned away. Its body tensed. I asked, “Kendra, have you . . .?”

She ignored me. She had halted in her search and tilted her head as if listening to something far away, a sound at the very edge of perception, similar to the action of the dragon. Worse, she also tensed, ready to fight.

My ears heard nothing. My eyes found no danger. But the two of them might be listening with more than their ears. They might hear it in their minds—or some other sense they had developed. Kendra hadn’t yet shared all she knew of her new powers—mostly because she didn’t completely understand what had happened to her. Three or four days ago, she had laughed at the mere mention of being called a Dragon Tamer. Neither of us had even believed a true-dragon existed a month ago, and we’d only seen perhaps three Wyverns in our lives, all within the last ten days.

The changes to her had come so fast, so unexpectedly, we hadn’t had time to think about them, let alone talk about them intelligently. We were both feeling our way. I said more intensely, “Kendra?”

She turned to me, obviously distracted.

“What’s happening?”

She shook her head in dismissal and her eyes glazed over again. She stumbled and fell to her knees.

“What is it?” I demanded. The dragon fell heavily to its side, mimicking my sister’s distress.

She sobbed, “Mocking. Voices are laughing and sneering, full of contempt.”

“What are they saying?”

“Not words. Feelings.” She closed her eyes and her face twisted as if in pain. She managed to raise herself to her feet with my arm for support. Her fingers curled into fists. She shouted, “No!”

The dragon also stumbled to its feet, threw its head back and roared as if in extreme pain and in support of my sister.

Kendra backed away from me, ignoring the rubble underfoot as she went closer to the dragon that stood, wild-eyed and panting as if it had just climbed all the stairs to our location. Kendra walked right up under its chin and reached her arm high. The dragon lowered her head until her chin touched Kendra’s hand, then the dragon whimpered like a lost puppy as tears flowed down Kendra’s cheeks.

It was clear they had shared a mental experience that didn’t include me, so I stepped aside and waited. The dragon backed away, careful not to step on Kendra, then it moved to the edge of the ledge and gracefully spread her wings. Instead of powering off as she had earlier, she simply stepped forward and allowed the air to fill her wings as she fell into the air. When she took her first powerful stroke, it was almost lazy in appearance, but already she looked smaller as she rapidly pulled away.

I peered all around the sky for any Wyverns to battle and found none. “What are the two of you so upset about?”

“The egg.” She seemed to have shrunk, as did her brief response. Her head hung low, her eyes so angry they almost glowed. “It’s gone.”

My puzzlement must have shown in my confused expression. She jabbed a finger at the stone tub, or incubator, but stood her ground as if afraid to look inside. My listless feet carried me there. Inside was nothing but bare rock, rounded in shape at the bottom to fit the shape of the egg that had once occupied it. Bewildered, I asked, “How?”

Kendra said, “They took it while we fought the Wyverns. More than one of the mages worked together to accomplish it, but all involved were mages, and they distracted us. They knew we killed three of them in the last two days, and the one in Andover we left and allowed to return to his home refuses to respond to them. He’s keeping his word to us in that, and still in the city, but they are angry with him, and us.”

“How can you know all that?

“The dragon shared it.”

There had to be more to her answer, but what she’d said confused me. “They took the egg? While we were here fighting? And we didn’t see anything?”

She started mumbling again, with me only catching a word here and there. Finally, she said as she contradicted herself, “Dragons don’t talk.”

I interrupted her morose and rambling talk with what concerned me more. “What do you mean, the mages took it? They appeared here on this mountaintop and carried it off in their arms?” One question seemed to lead to another. She hadn’t had time to answer any of them.

She said, “We were right about Waystones. They are not signposts, but routes and ways to travel from one Waystone to another. The mages came here and took the egg and to upset the dragon. They told it they will hatch it when they have a new stronghold built we cannot breach. It was taken via the Waystones to a secret place to hide it from us. Then, they will chain it and raise the new hatchling and use its essence to return here and defeat the king of Dire. One of them thanked us because this dragon is old, and her essence has weakened. Now they have a new start.”

“They’re taunting us. Trying to anger us so we’ll make mistakes.” A new thought rushed to mind. “Can people who are not mages travel on, or in Waystones? Not just pass conversations over distances?”

She finally shook off the mental cobwebs and said, “I suppose so. I don’t know how, or anybody that knows the method to do it. It is old magic, I think. We’ve lost so much knowledge over the generations. With the egg gone and as I think more about it, there is the story that confirms at least one mage has traveled that way recently. What else can we conclude?”

“What story? I don’t know of it.”

“It is a rumor. Was a rumor, years ago. A mage knew of a battle and the outcome long before ships from across the sea brought word of it.”

Her answers gave me some relief. I’d actually heard a similar story but considered it a child’s tale. Climbing into the tub near my feet and traveling anywhere didn’t appeal in the least, even if that was the correct method to use. Perhaps standing close was good enough. I backed off a few steps just in case. “What now?”

“We’ve found out more than we hoped at this place, although there is much we don’t understand, and there are new puzzles. We should go feed and water our horses and ride to meet Princess Elizabeth and tell her all we’ve found. Then, we will decide our future.”

We started our descent on the stairs, and almost immediately, I tripped and nearly fell face first. The uneven steps again made walking without examining each step impossible. A single mistake and we’d tumble headlong down the stone steps and kill ourselves. There was no railing. In fear, I turned backward and crabbed down, using my hands as well as my feet. While thinking of how silly I looked, Kendra stumbled and fell into me. If she had been there without me, or descending below me on the stairs, she would still be tumbling. Without a word, she turned and copied my awkward descent.

We watched the stairs below us through our legs as we crawled down, pausing only at the landings. We hardly talked, and if we did, there is no memory of the conversations. That does not mean my mind was idle. No, the things we’d discovered, like a heavy meal, required time to digest.

Our hands became raw from the stone steps. At the bottom, our horses waited. Kendra had said we were going back to the inn where the redheaded girl waited for me, but we were almost within sight of Andover, and the road that would take us home. Only a missing bridge over a raging river prevented us from traveling a much longer route. On that road somewhere, we could expect to find Princess Elizabeth traveling to meet us, and with her would be an army ready to defeat those we’d already killed or caused to flee the kingdom. There was nobody left to fight in Dire.

Kendra pointed out the obvious, “The bridge is out, so we can’t cross the river here.”

Her dragon had knocked the bridge down, and I wanted to remind her of that as any brother might with his sister but held my tongue. For various reasons, the destruction of the bridge caused me no end of anger. Now, we would have to ride all the way back to the City Gate of the Port of Mercia and retrace our progress on the other side of the river until we reached the road we could now almost see in the distance.

On impulse, I said, “I don’t like Andover, you know.”

“Nothing good has ever happened to us there,” she agreed. “However, the mage we ordered to wait there for ten full days is still waiting. He is a solid blip in my mind. There is a question we need to ask him.”

“Which is?”

“Why is everyone going to Kondor?”

“Did you see a blip in your mind when a mage came to steal the egg?”

“No, but I was distracted by fighting the Wyverns, as the mage probably intended. It may have been there for a short time, but I didn’t notice in the heat of battle.”

Again, she was distracted even as she spoke, and with Alexis under me, we rode at a steady pace. Kendra rode one of the finest horses from the king’s stable, so it managed to keep up with Alexis. My mind slowed, thoughts strayed, and my eyelids closed from being tired, both from the climb and last night at the inn. The late night, or early morning, was catching up to me. In a perverse way, turning back along the road to Andover instead of returning to the Blue Bear Inn satisfied me. The girl at the inn would think me a complete dullard if she saw me in my present state of mind.

When we arrived at the City Gate, Avery again stood there in the same place, leaning against the same gray stones as if he knew precisely when we would arrive. Today he wore coarse brown trousers, a thick tan shirt, and heavy boots, so he was almost unrecognizable in the mix of others dressed the same. Yes, they were the boots of the sort common workmen wear on the job, not those of the Heir Apparent’s chief servant. His hand held a floppy hat with a wide sloping brim to shunt away water, the same as sailors wear. At another time I’d have decided the Royals were having a themed ball where they all wore peasant clothing.

“Avery,” I greeted him solemnly, as his political games required me to initiate the conversation since he believed he held the higher position of rank. I wouldn’t mention his clothing—unless the right circumstances arose.

He said, “Damon. Kendra. Will you do me a courtesy?”

“Of course,” I lied. Nobody fully agrees to a task until they know what it is.

“When you find and speak to Princess Elizabeth, have a message carried to the Heir Apparent that my plans have changed. I’ve booked passage to the kingdom of Kondor, so when you arrive there, inquire after my whereabouts, and of course, I will leave word where to find me.”

“Why are you going?” Kendra asked, accepting his statement without surprise.

He tilted his head a little to the side as if to better hear her question. He said, “To lay the groundwork for you, of course. Plus, there is some royal business to attend, and an old friend who may need my help. Now, I hate to rush off, but my ship is almost ready to sail, so my time is up.” He turned and walked swiftly down the road in the direction of the ship’s masts, looking for all the world like a common traveler.

We turned our mounts away from the port and the ships. We let them set their own pace as we rode knee to knee, ignoring the other traffic on the road as we passed them by in both directions. As long as we didn’t slow, we’d arrive in Andover well before dark.

Kendra waited until the City Gate was no longer in sight behind us before she said, “Avery is a strange man.”

“He assumes we will follow him to Kondor.” I again turned my attention away from the seaport and towards Andover. The road ahead was wide. Wagons and a hundred people on foot traveling in both directions were in sight. None rode horses because only the wealthy can afford anything but a large-hooved draft animal suitable for working on a farm. Their gait was hard on the tailbone and spine, and most preferred to walk rather than ride them. However, we rode the finest of beasts, so we drew the attention of every pair of eyes that found us, which was all.

Most people gave way as if we were royalty. Lumbering wagons rolled along on the right side of the wide road, faster walkers to the left. We threaded the needle between. The gray stone buildings of Andover emerged from the pall of chimney smoke that perennially hung over the city. Kendra knew where in the tangle of buildings the mage was, that had given us his word he would return home and cause no more trouble after ten days. The time would be up in five days.

We both agreed, he was one of those innocents caught up in the larger web of circumstances and couldn’t escape them. He’d been frightened of us after we killed the other two mages and taken him prisoner, but he soon convinced us he wished he was at his home working on his father’s farm. He’d never wanted to be a mage but had been forced into doing their deeds.

At the edge of the city, we passed the usual small farms with pigs and chickens, the barking dogs, the cats sunning themselves, and washerwomen bringing in the day’s wash. The sound of men chopping rounds into split firewood rang with dull thuds. A pair of men yelled and threatened each other, but all knew no blows would be struck.

It all appeared and sounded normal until Kendra pulled back so hard on her reins the horse reared on two hind legs. My sword whipped out, and my feet moved from comfortably resting at my arches in the stirrups to the toes only. I could leap to either side and kick the stirrups free.

Kendra spun her horse, nearly knocking over a handcart full of cabbages and suffered the shouts from the irate farmer. She ignored him. Her wild eyes turned to me. “He’s dead.”

The only person I could think of was the mage we came to see. “You can’t see him anymore?”

“Someone or something just killed him.”

If there were other mages or sorceresses present, Kendra would know it. A single thought filled my mind. On top of the mountain at the dragon’s cave, the Blue Woman had briefly appeared, or we thought she had for a moment to mock us, but we were not sure. We’d felt someone watching us ever since.

I said, “On the mountain pass, the Blue Woman always knew what we’d been talking about, and where we were going and doing next. She, or it, can hear us when we don’t know the apparition is near. That much is obvious. It might even be listening and laughing at us now.”

Kendra had calmed her horse and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was clearly still puzzled. “How can the mage who controls the Blue Woman kill someone? She doesn’t exist except in some ethereal manner. She has no physical form.”

My memories went back to the time I’d touched her and was thrown clear by a ball of orange energy. Still, that was far different from physically killing. She had no being, at least not in Dire, but perhaps in some far-off land she either existed or had existed.

I said, “She came to us that first time, and convinced us she was working with us. What if she appeared in the same manner before someone in Andover, a soldier, a drunk, or even a highwayman. She could convince him to kill for her or offer him a reward to do her killing, and she wouldn’t have to take physical form.”

“Probably a reward she never intended to pay, even if there is a way to do it. Speaking of the Blue Woman as a “she” when we believe behind her is a “he” or a mage, is confusing. Andover is still a place to dislike.”

“Each time it is worse for us,” I agreed.

“We don’t know what our watcher has planned for us here, so my suggestion is that we continue to ride right on past Andover instead of stopping. The same assassin might wish to earn more gold, or perhaps has friends who are waiting to ambush us. We can intercept Elizabeth along the road.”

“You just put your finger on the most important aspect of this. We don’t know many things. The events direct our actions instead of our planning. The Blue Woman may be a spirit or manifestation of a mage, it does not matter. Except that if it is a spirit, we know even less than we think.” My eyes watched the people on either side of the road as we moved past them, watching for deception or aggression. Instead, they moved aside with normal curiosity directed at us, but nothing more.

A woman far too old to be working for a living sold us a loaf of bread that felt like it was baked long enough ago to have been discarded by a bakery as too stale to sell, and she had cheese with one edge suspiciously cut off, which probably meant mold. After over-paying, we continued down the main road until reaching the far end of the city. However, we intended to spend as little time in Andover as possible, so even stopping to purchase more food was not considered. That was a miscalculation on my part because we’d already devoured all the food the cook placed in the sack.

Ahead lay a desolate area where we would spend the night unless we continued traveling to the edge of the forests far ahead. There were no trees, few shrubs, and no people living there. If asked, riding on far enough to reach the forest suited me, if only because we could build a fire. My body and soul could use the comfort of it. The number of people on the road north of Andover had thinned until we were alone as far as could be seen in any direction.

As the city faded from sight behind, the sun settled just above the horizon in what we call first-dark, and in the dimming light, we heard the piercing cry of the dragon, far away. Both of us turned in unison. The great beast flew over Andover low and fast, as if upset.

Alexis shivered and sidestepped, so I dismounted my horse and walked her, hoping to calm her. Kendra did the same with her horse. We watched the dragon approach, fly directly over us, and land on the road ahead, preventing us from continuing unless we went around. She spread her wings wide as if to tell us not to proceed.

We halted and puzzled exchanges passed Kendra and the dragon. We waited.

On the road between us and the dragon, a flicker of blue appeared, not the Blue Woman we’d encountered, but only a vague portion of her upper body as if a mage wanted to present her but lacked the power. When we’d encountered her before we could see through her into the trees behind as if she was perhaps half-real. Now, only the vague outline of a woman shimmered, mostly with dull blue sparkles. There was no head visible, only the outline of her dress in blue.

She didn’t speak to us, this time. She simply laughed evilly. Soft and low, the laughter sounded cold and anything but humorous. Then she faded to nothing as if she’d never been.

The dragon backed away, hissed, and flicked her tongue out, tasting the air where the blue outline had appeared, but still, it seemed determined to prevent us from continuing on the road. A chill seemed to have descended. I shivered, looked behind us, behind the dragon, and to either side of the road.