The Dragondain (20 page)

“Newlin!” screamed Lily. “Nye!”

Lily helped up Bree, and pointed to the bow. Bree’s face became alert and frighteningly calm. “Annora,” said Bree. “We must act.”

Annora looked unsure. “How do we shield something we don’t understand?”

Bree leaned back against the mast. “Hold me to the mast at tightly as you can, so I don’t lose my peerin.”

The boat canted backward, and Annora pitched forward, nearly smashing her head into Lily’s. “At the contest, when we made the black spot,” she began, “I felt the lodestone change in size and direction, like it was trying to aid us.”

Darce ran past them, trailing a long coil of rope. She was shouting commands to Grimm and Falin. Lily watched them as she tried to listen to Annora.

“This is all my fault,” murmured Lily. “I shouldn’t have come. Is there some way to turn the boat around?”

Lily stared at the bow again. Her mind felt thick. So many things were happening at once. Where were Nye and Newlin? Had they been washed into the fens? Were they with the fetch lights?

“Lily!” screamed Ren. “
Listen
to Annora! Can you alter it? Is it something you have control over?”

Lily tried to clear her head, but someone was singing now. “I did do something like that,” said Lily. She remembered how Arric had seemed to sense her too, after they had killed the dragon, when he was tossing his protective wards about the camp. He had felt her presence, and she had hidden herself, made herself small.

Lily watched Darce frantically remove her armor with the help of Grimm, while Falin tied one end of a rope tight about her waist. Lily pointed to Darce. “What’s she doing?”

Ren pushed down Lily’s arm and pressed her face into Lily’s view. “Lily, listen to me. Lodestones do strange things to more than just lunamancy. This all started when you formed your peerin. Can you make it smaller?”

The singing shifted back to humming. It sounded like the voice of a little girl.

“Lily!” screamed Ren. “Can you make it smaller?”

“Yes,” said Lily. “I
think
I can. I’ll try.” Lily placed her hand over the lump of the moon coin and concentrated on making herself smaller, less important. She thought about hiding, being invisible, making distance where there was none. The effect was immediate. The fetch lights quieted, darkening the waters as they sank.

The boat shuddered. The bow, which had been turned around by the commotion, slowly began correcting its course to Perianth. Darce was standing now, balancing effortlessly on the edge of the boat like an acrobat. She swiveled her head to Byrne, even as she bent her knees. Byrne was pointing out into the water and shouting something to her.

Suddenly Darce leaped over the edge and disappeared. Falin and Grimm played out the slack in the rope as everyone rushed to the side of the boat. Annora summoned her blue ball of light—making it much brighter this time—and sent it out over the water.

Lily could see Darce’s arms wheeling out of the water, but there were no heads bobbing where she was headed.

“Right there, Darce!” screamed Byrne, and with a sudden twist and kick, Darce vanished beneath the surface.

The boat was picking up speed. Grimm and Falin were playing out their rope as fast as possible. Falin began to whistle as his hands moved faster on the rope.

“Where are they?” asked Lily.

“Goin’ to seek their treasure, I suppose.” said Grimm, pumping his arms, doing his best to keep the line clean of snags.

Falin made a quick glance over his shoulder to Annora. “I don’t suppose slowing down this boat is an option?” he said, as calmly as if he were out fishing.

Annora cursed under her breath and ran back to the navigation board. She grasped the peg and gave it a quick yank, but the peg stayed tight and her hand slipped off.

“It must have a key of some kind,” shouted Annora. “Newlin didn’t say anything about it.”

Falin and Grimm laughed. “Wouldn’t you know?” said Falin.

“How can they laugh—” Lily began, but Ren grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“Let them be,” hissed Ren.

Lily peered over the side of the boat. The glow coming from the fetch lights was fainter now. “I could attract them again,” she said to no one in particular, “they’d come rising back up.”

“This is the last of it!” yelled Grimm. “Brace yourselves, on three! All hands! Everyone take a hold!”

Falin braced his leg against the side of the boat, and they stopped playing out the line. Everyone hurried to grab hold of the dozen or so feet of rope behind Grimm.

“Get ready . . . get ready . . .”

The rope pulled taut.

“Now!” said Falin, and just as he said it, the rope gave a terrific yank. Falin had gotten his second leg up to the board and was now pulling with all his might along with the rest. “That’s got to be more than one!”

Falin and Grimm shouted out a rhythm and pulled the rope in one handful at a time. The blue ball of light drifted away and faded.

And then bodies broke the surface. The boat was still gaining speed, making it harder to pull them in. When Darce’s back bumped into the side of the boat, Byrne rapidly lashed the rope to a cleat.

“Secure!” he yelled.

Grimm and Falin leapt to the edge and reached into the bubbling water. Lily watched as Darce’s unconscious form tumbled over the gunwale. She was limp, and water was pouring out of her mouth. Nye, gasping for air and coughing, had a death grip on both Darce and Newlin, who was also unconscious.

Falin had a hard time getting Nye to let go. It was as if he thought they were still under the water. But with a few hard slaps to the face, Nye came around. They spread Darce and Newlin out on the deck. Neither of them was breathing.

“Nye! Nye! what happened?” But Nye could only cough.

Bree fell to her knees next to Newlin and pressed her ear against his soaked chest. “There is a faint pulse, but he’s not breathing!”

“Turn them on their sides,” coughed Nye. “Help get me up!” Byrne hoisted Nye up into a kneeling position. Nye, with shaking hands, formed his healer peerin, which vanished as soon as it appeared. He tried a second time, then a third. Annora stood behind Nye and seized his forearms, helping him to steady his hands. “Too bad mom’s not here,” sputtered Nye. “She’s outstanding with drowned people.”

And then he had it. Newlin and Darce began coughing out great gouts of water, followed by wheezing draws of breath.

As Lily felt the strength in her legs fail her, she slid down against the bulkhead and began to sob, whether from emotional exhaustion or happiness, she wasn’t sure.

The slight ring on her hand continued to blaze.

Chapter Thirteen

The Girl in the Ring

“
A
re
you sad?”
said a little girl’s inquisitive voice.

Lily dropped her hands from her face and looked around. There was no little girl.

“Sad?” said Lily aloud.

“You’re crying, right? People cry when they’re sad,”
said the voice.

Lily covered the ring with her free hand, shielding the light. She voiced her thoughts—not aloud, but in her mind.
“Were you the one humming earlier?”

“Hmmm, and I’ve been singing a little bit, too. Did you like my song? I made it up all by myself.”

“I don’t remember the song part so much,”
thought Lily.
“Where are you?”

“I’m in the castle,”
said the voice happily.

“What castle?”

“What castle? What castle! Are you serious? I live in the greatest castle in the land!”

“That being?”
said Lily, trying her best not to sound irritated.

“Why, Castle Fendragon, silly!”

“You live in the castle?”

“All my life.”

“How many of you are there?”

“I’m the last one,”
she said sadly.

“Oh, that’s terrible! How did you end up alone?”

“I—I’d rather not talk about it. Besides, I don’t even know you. You have to be careful what you tell strangers.”

Lily let out a sigh, and felt something strangely like relief course through her. Something had finally gone their way: Castle Fendragon was empty. Their trip would have a real purpose. Lily smiled. They’d be able to rescue a little girl. Maybe she would even know something about Wrengfoul’s activities.

It made perfect sense for Wrengfoul to use the old castle as a base of operations. Isolated as it was in the fens, he could send any number of people to and from it with no worry of being discovered. With a boat like the one Lily was sailing in, his agents would have easy access to many places. What better hiding place than the no one’s land of the fens, at the center of an abandoned city, in a deserted castle? Well, almost deserted.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lily noticed Newlin looking around suspiciously while sidestepping ever closer to the edge of the boat. She checked to see if anyone else had spotted him, but they were either listening to Darce or busying themselves about the boat. But only Lily, from her vantage point, could see he was up to something.

Suddenly, Newlin hoisted one of his legs over the edge of the boat.

“Whoa!” shouted Lily, scrambling to her feet and pointing at Newlin. “Someone stop him!”

“At least, I’m alone as far as my family is concerned,”
said the small voice.
“But the bad people . . . the bad people are everywhere.”

“Hold that thought!”
thought Lily. She sprinted for Newlin, catching his arm and trying to yank him back before he could plunge overboard. But by the time she reached him, he was mostly over. She scrambled for a foothold or a place to wedge her knee, any kind of purchase that might give her some leverage, but all she found was a slippery deck.

“What do you think you’re doing?” yelled Lily.

“Are you busy?”
singsonged the little voice playfully.

“Just give me one moment,”
thought Lily.

Lily took a chance to improve her grip on Newlin but lost her footing in the process. She fell forward and doubled over the railing, her feet lifting off the deck. Newlin, seeing his chance, twisted in her arms, sending them both precipitously over the edge. But before they could plunge into the dark water, strong hands clamped down on them, heaving Lily and Newlin back up on deck.

“Newlin!” Falin cried. “What are you doing?”

Newlin looked around like he couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about. He pointed to the water. “I was going back down there,” he said, as if it was the most reasonable idea in the world. He made a motion to start off again, but he wasn’t going anywhere with Falin and Grimm holding him. Even without the armor weighing them down, they wouldn’t have budged.

Nye gave Falin a panicked look. “We’ll have to tie him up until I can figure something out. The fetch lights must still have a hold on him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. We can’t expect him to fight something he doesn’t know is happening to him.”

Falin seized a coil of rope. His dagger flashed once in the moonlight and vanished, leaving Falin with a piece of rope perfectly suited for binding Newlin’s wrists.

Nye put a hand on Falin’s forearm. “Falin,” whispered Nye. “The only thing is, we’ve got a
much
bigger problem than Newlin. You’re going to want to tie him up second.”

Falin gave Nye a quizzical look. “What in the moons are you talking about?”

“Darce,” hissed Nye.

Falin barked a laugh. “What! Have you lost your mind?”

Nye stepped aside and revealed Darce, crouched on the deck, palms pressed hard over her temples, her arms akimbo. Her face looked tormented, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Get—get—out,” she whimpered. “Gotta—gotta—go.”

Falin’s eyes went wide and serious. Instantly, as though having sighted a dangerous wild animal, he crouched low and spread his hands, the length of rope stretched taut between them. Grimm, catching sight of Falin’s stance, turned and crouched. They exchanged glances, communicating with their eyes, and slowly began to circle Darce.

Darce noticed them immediately. Her eyes shifted from Falin to Grimm, following their progress, her fingers digging deeper into her temples, her sobbing worsening.

“Darce. It’s me, Falin. Don’t listen to them. They’re dead. They’re trying to trick you.” Darce grimaced. “Nye is going to help you. He’s going to make them go away. All you need to do is stay still. Can you do that?”

Darce’s arms flashed backwards over her shoulders and drew forth two short, wicked-sharp blades. She pointed one at each of them. The distress had vanished from her face. She was all business now.

“Been fun knowin’ ya, Falin,” said Grimm, in an accepting tone. “You’ve been a damn good brother,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“You too, Grimm,” said Falin quietly. “Didja ever think it would end like this?”

“Never crossed my mind,” confessed Grimm sheepishly.

They continued circling her until they stood directly opposite each other, making it impossible for Darce to follow both their movements at the same time.

There was a thud and a crash—Byrne and the others had finally wrestled Newlin to the deck.

Grimm and Falin reached their best vantage point and settled in to wait. Falin would pick the moment, waiting for some slight advantage before signaling the move. Grimm felt a great calm wash over him. He could hear the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, the water lapping against the side of the boat. And then, unexpectedly, the tips of Darce’s blades quivered. He’d never seen that before, and even in these strange circumstances, he assumed it was a trick to lure them in on
her
terms. But then Darce’s face began to twitch, the veneer of her calm composure cracking. Her broad, powerful shoulders shook and then heaved. She let out a cry that made Lily’s hair stand on end.

The tips of her blades dipped down. Darce’s face was tortured, her body racked with tremors. Suddenly, the two blades clattered to the deck. Darce twisted toward Falin. Fighting something within, she slowly crossed her wrists and held them up for Falin. “St-st-sto-stop me—me—” she pleaded.

Falin sprang forward, deftly forming a loop in the rope. He guided it over Darce’s wrists, pulling it tight and tying a second knot before Lily could blink. Coming from the other side, Grimm pinned Darce’s arms to her side with blinding speed and squeezed so hard her face bloomed red.

“More rope!” shouted Falin.

Lily let go of Newlin’s ankle, where she really wasn’t doing much good anyway, and ran to the rope. She seized one of Darce’s daggers and sliced through the thick rope like it was a single strand of thread. The instant Darce’s arms and legs were secured, Grimm jumped up to help with Newlin.

Annora summoned her blue ball. Lily was surprised at how dark the night had gotten. They were under the cloud bank now, and all about them swirled dense mists. The boat’s passage was rapid, shifting course only when necessary, keeping to the deepest water, following a preordained course that only it knew. Dark tree limbs, draped with hanging moss, unexpectedly reached out at them from the mists—some just missing the mast. They were heading into the deep fens.

Nye nullified the effects of the fetch lights on Darce and Newlin faster than Lily expected. When he ordered them cut loose, Lily was shocked, but she was the only one to feel that way. Newlin resumed his place next to Nye, standing on the bow. Darce returned to pacing the decks. It was as though nothing had ever happened. Lily, sitting across from Ren again in the small space under the bow, watched her work her peerin, trying her best to set a spell within it.

“What’s the matter?” asked Lily.

“I—I just can’t seem to concentrate. I’m getting it. It’s just taking longer than I would have liked. How could you tell I’m having trouble? It’s pitch black.”

But it wasn’t pitch black to Lily. She could see Ren’s face lit by the reflection of her peerin.

“I can see by the light of your peerin,” said Lily.

Ren’s eyes tilted up to stare at Lily. “You can see that!”

“Yes, it’s a bluish light.”

“That’s correct. But—Lily, come around here and look over my shoulder and tell me what you see.”

Lily crouched and looked over Ren’s shoulder. Her peerin appeared completely blank, as though she were holding her hands in thin air. Lily could see no light source, but both girls were bathed in a bluish light nonetheless.

“I don’t see anything inside your peerin,” confirmed Lily.

Ren looked puzzled. “Well, that’s how it should be. No one can see into another’s peerin. But I don’t understand why you can see the light it gives off.”

“I’ve been able to see the light from everyone’s peerins, although they’re not always the same colors.” Lily walked crabwise back to where she had been sitting.

“That’s right. Depending on what task a lunamancer has undertaken—”

“Or a healer,” interrupted Lily.

“You can see light from theirs too?”

“Yes.”

Ren shook her head. “I sure don’t understand that.” She fell back to her work.

Lily leaned back and thought about being small. “I wish I could help you with your spell. Maybe I could focus the power of the lodestone directly to you without tempting the fetch lights?”

“Yeah, and maybe not. How about we test that one later, when we’re far away from this place.”

Lily felt for the reassuring lump of the moon coin under her vest. It was the only piece of security she had in the Moon Realm. She tugged the necklace out of her vest and palmed the pendant. It was cold to the touch. She popped the fob and waited. All the moons remained dark.

Lily looked down at her wrist. She wasn’t wearing her watch.

“I’m so stupid,” she said to herself.

“How’s that?” said Ren distractedly.

Lily couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought to bring her watch. She should be recording how long it took for the moon coin to recharge. She had so many questions for Uncle Ebb! Would it take longer to recharge the coin if she were going to a moon that was farther away? Why did it take so long to charge before, when she was returning to Earth? Was it the moon coin that affected time? Could Lily change the flow of time here or on Earth?

Lily checked carefully to make sure the moon coin was still set to Dain, then snapped the fob closed and tucked the pendant back under her vest.

After a time, Lily’s attention drifted to the slim ring on her finger. It was dark. When had its light gone out? Where was the little girl? She hadn’t even given her name.

The bad people are everywhere,
she’d said.

Darce and Annora would want to know about that, but Lily couldn’t decide how to tell them. She wanted them to have the information but hadn’t come up with a story to explain how she came by it.

Lifting the ring to her face, Lily examined the thin band. There was very little to it. The only thing keeping it from looking like a woman’s wedding band was a small half-circle with a tiny white stone embedded in the center of it. Lily slipped off the ring and examined the inner band. There were no words or marks. Lily put the ring on again and concentrated.

“Hello?”
she thought into it.
“Hello?”

The tiny stone flickered, and a faint light swirled around the rim of the half-circle.

“Are you feeling better now?”
came the childish voice.

“Yes, thank you,”
thought Lily. And then, without any planning, she said,
“We’re coming to save you. Sit tight.”

There was a long pause.
“Save me? But this is my home.”

“But you’re in danger!”
Then Lily remembered she didn’t even know her name.
“What’s your name?”

Another long pause.

“You first.”

“Lily.”

“Oh! What a lovely name! I like that very much. And mine? You may call me . . . Rymee. Tell me, exactly how do you plan on rescuing me?”

“We’re approaching Perianth now, by boat. It was originally a blackmage’s boat, but the party I’m with commandeered it. They are very determined to understand what’s going on inside Castle Fendragon, and once they do, they plan to get out as quickly as possible. You can come with us. We’ll take you to Bairne.”

“Bairne!”
Then, almost in a whisper,
“Bairne still stands?”

“It is a bit over-f at the moment, and they don’t have as much to eat as they’d like, but it’s got to be better than where you are, right?”

“I don’t know,”
said Rymee.
“I have all I need to eat.”
But her voice sounded distracted and far away.
“You mustn’t try to rescue me. It’s too dangerous. They used to come and go, but now they’re here all the time. They’re up to something, something evil, but I haven’t figured out exactly what yet. They’re drawing on powers I do not understand.”

“The people I’m with are not in my charge. They have their own plans.”

“Where does your pilot intend to dock?”

“The boat is enchanted and piloting itself. We don’t know where it will land.”

“Lily, if it sails to the great docks you will be seen! Tell me, can you see the city?”

Lily jumped up and peered into the darkness. There were two sets of dim lights glowing in the distance, one much larger than the other. Lily tapped Nye’s leg. “What are those?”

Nye looked down. “Oh, Lily, it’s you. Castle Fendragon and something else, I guess.”

“Which one are we headed for?”

“That’s a good question. I’ve assumed all this time we were headed for the castle, which must be the larger of the two. But now I’m thinking we’re headed for the smaller one,” he said, sounding puzzled. “Annora! Darce!” he called.

Annora and Darce rushed to the bow. Nye pointed to the small glow a few points to the left of the larger one. “What do you suppose that is?” asked Nye.

“I don’t know,” said Annora. “When did we begin turning toward it?”

“Well, when we were farther away, it wasn’t so easy to tell, but it’s possible we’ve been headed for it this whole time.”

“It’s the great docks of Perianth,” said Lily. “Those are the twin lamps of the dragoyle beacons.”

“Lamps? They’d have to be some pretty big lamps to be seen out this far,” scoffed Darce.

“They’re a pair of dragoyles standing side by side, each one as tall as a house,” said Lily. “They have their wings spread behind them, reflecting and concentrating the light of the lamps. They were designed to be navigation lights in bad weather, but when we get to them, they’ll light us up like searchlights, sail or no.”

“Nye!” snapped Annora. “Release the pegs. We’ll want to come in at an angle.” Annora turned to Lily. “How do you know about them? Have you been to Perianth?”

“I know about them from my uncle. They were created by Lania Hammarfist, the greatest sculptor of her day. Her works are all over the city. She designed the lesser dragoyles, and much of the sculpture inside Castle Fendragon. But the great lamps were her masterpiece. On the day she cast them, she had the help of several giants.”