Dragonswood (23 page)

“Will there be a war?” I asked, startled.

“Lord Sackmoore would like nothing better.”

Chapter Thirty-five

T
T WASN’T TOO
long before the guard brought Bion’s breakfast tray, a paltry meal of cold gruel. Bion took the food and spoke to the man, giving me a moment to sneak out the door and down the steps. Shivering back in my solar, I searched my trunk and slipped on my fiery gown as if to warm myself in its flame. I did not know why I should choose it now except that I was off to see the old dragon. I wore it like one stepping into her own fire-sight. Refastening my belt, I tucked in my knife. To guise the shimmering flit-cloth, I put on my old travel-worn cloak, then snatched my rucksack from the trunk.

The courtyard was still bustling with castle guards, servants unloading wagons, and entertainers come to put on a show for Prince Arden’s pleasure. Many folk huddled excitedly near the dovecote, where a performing bear was tethered to a post by his foppish trainer. I felt sorry for the bear but could do nothing for him.

In the stables I ducked behind a stall until the stable boy led one of the horses outside. There were two doors, I would use the second. No time to saddle a horse. I took the closest one and led him out, walking as discreetly as I could through the busy courtyard. I turned my hooded face away when I spied Jyro juggling knives not far from the dancing bear. His show proved riveting enough to entertain the guards. I made it across the drawbridge. If I ever had the chance to thank Jyro for this eye-catching act, I would.

Down the road, I used a log to mount the gelding, then clung to his mane as he took off. My stitched chin throbbed. Nevertheless, I kept him to a canter. The lake lay south along the coast. I was hungry when I reached the shore at last. No time to think of food.

Lake Ailleann was mist-covered as it was before, though little fog came up from the sea today and no clouds hung over Dragonswood beyond. The pearling mist had a magical quality; spun to hide the dragonlord’s lair? I searched for the boat Onadon used when last we crossed and found it hidden in the rushes halfway round the lake. A slender elm grew there strong enough to tie my mount, but he had no reins, and I didn’t have my father’s magic skill.

“Beelzebub! Will you stay if I dismount?”

I slid down and rubbed his neck. “You have been fairy filched, sir. Did you know?” I looked about. “There’s good grass here for a meal,” I said. “And lake water to drink. I’ve no summoning finger like my father, Onadon, but will you stay?”

Reluctantly I let go of his mane. He shook his head, bowed, and tore a hunk of fresh grass as I climbed in the rowboat.

A
SLOW FIRE
burned in Kahlil’s cave. Even dragons with their own inner fires had to warm themselves in November, I supposed. In the firelight I saw his scales had a healthier greenish sheen. He was better.

I bowed as I’d seen my father do on our first visit. Would this old one know how to help us?

“Prince Bion sends his greetings, Lord Kahlil.”

The dragonlord bid me add wood to the small cave fire. I’d caught him mid-meal, half a roast boar impaled on his talon. He finished it off, crunching the bones with delight, and said, “Tell me, how is the boy?”

I didn’t mind him calling Bion a boy. We must all seem young to one who’d lived so long. As I recounted all that happened since I’d arrived at the castle, he used his smallest talon to pick stray bits of meat caught between his teeth.

The dragon made a rumbling growl when I described the fight, then he scratched a little, listening until I was done. I was tired from my sleepless night with Bion and my long ride besides. Lord Kahlil asked no questions right away, but read my weariness. One eye swiveling back, the other on me, he clawed wine and goblet from the recesses of his cave.

It is a grand thing to see great black talons pinch a wine jar and tip a slender red rivulet into an even smaller golden chalice.

As I drank, lights swarmed in from outside. Thirty or more will-o’-the-wisps flitted along the dragon’s scales, each tiny hand spreading pine-scented ointment. (I knew this only by the smell. Their hands are very small.) When done, the will-o’-the-wisps settled along the dragonlord’s head and shoulders—a crown and mantle of glowing light. Anon he shook them off and bid them leave us for a while.

“Bion is both wise and foolish to stay in the tower,” he said.

“I tried to convince him to run, my lord. He could have escaped with my help, but he refused.”

“Love binds the prince to his brother,” the dragon said. “It’s dangerous to remain in his brother’s custody, but Bion’s right in thinking Lord Sackmoore would turn Arden against him if he ran. Your part in this interests me,” he added, pouring more wine.

The wine lessened the pain in my chin to a distant ache, but rolling it along my tongue awakened hunger. “My part interests you, sir?”

“You went straight to the dungeon to rescue a man you thought to be a thief.”

It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “I did.”

“So you would have freed the thief who’d stolen the crown jewels, even if it was an act of treason?”

My body shook.
I’m tired,
I thought,
worried about Bion, undone with wine.
But I was also afraid. I’d known the blacksmith’s wrath, but a dragon’s… Why had Bion sent me here? “I didn’t want to break the law or to dishonor the king, my lord, but—”

“Yesss?” he hissed, his tongue flicking out.

“I owed the man a good turn after all he’d done for me and my friends. I couldn’t just leave him there, could I?”

The dragon lowered his head, narrowing his large golden eyes.

I choked out a few more words. “I also planned to convince the huntsman to return the treasure. Everything changed when I learned who he was.”

“And why he stole it,” Kahlil added.

I nodded. “Sackmoore was using it to build his own army. Bion said he wouldn’t return it until his brother’s crowned.”

“You were right and wrong in breaking the law,” he said.

I stood, the cave swaying a little. Bion was both wise and foolish to stay in the tower. I was right and wrong to break the law. Was this the wisdom of dragons? If so, how was he going to help us?

“Sit again by the fire and tell me more,” said Kahlil.

I teetered on my feet. “More of what, sir? I told you what took place in the tower. All that I can remember and I swear I left nothing out.”

One large yellow eye peered back whilst the other focused on me. “More about yourself, Tess. And if you’re hungry, I’ve finished off the meat, but I have some other man-food here.” In the cave behind he felt along the ground with his back leg. There was a clank of coin in the dark, but he brought forth an onion and two fat turnips pricked at the end of his talons. Breathing fire over them, he roasted them as he had the boar, then set them on the stones by my fire, adding a knife that I might slice and eat the vegetables hot. I had my own knife with me, but didn’t refuse his.

“I have run out of cheese,” he admitted.

“Thank you for your kindness, my lord. This is all I need.” I said my prayers and supped. Midway through the meal in a generous moment or calculating one, the dragonlord poured me a third cup of wine. Warm within and without, I began to answer his probing questions. Checking no words at the crossroads of my mind, I let my story trip along my inebriated tongue.

By this means and through weariness besides, I found myself speaking earnestly of my life in Harrowton before my arrest. Why I divulged this or what it had to do with Bion’s trouble, I do not know, but soon I was telling Kahlil of my life, of Mother and her lost babes, of the blacksmith’s angry fists. My hand went up to my cauliflower ear. Tears came.

I’d never let the blacksmith see me cry. I took my tears to the wood and climbed a friendly tree to shed them. But I couldn’t keep them back now. Half human and half fey, neither and both, the longing for my place in the world was an ache I’d grown used to, and the ache was more my home than any place I’d found, except for my short stay with the huntsman. Even that was taken from me now I knew Garth was Bion.

All I truly want is to live year-round with my sister in the modest castle on Dragon’s Keep.
The prince had no intention of returning to the lodge. No desire to look for what we might have had there together. I didn’t say these last few words aloud. They’d been Bion’s things to say, not mine, and he did not want them.

Dragons cannot cry, but he did not turn his back when my tears came hot with anger, then cool with sorrow, then empty of both. I felt hollow when all was said, and lighter somehow.

Chapter Thirty-six

T
AWOKE IN
the cave, blanketed in shimmering green dragon scales, thicker than flit cloth, yet surprisingly supple.

“I would have awakened you if you hadn’t risen on your own soon,” said Lord Kahlil. “You slept all day and through the night like a cat. Are you rested now? There’s much to do.”

“You know how to help Bion, my lord?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Prince Arden has to be told the truth about Lord Sackmoore.”

I gave a little huff. “Bion already tried that, sir.”

“If Arden won’t believe his brother, whom is he likely to believe?”

The fire had gone out long ago, a few red coals remained. Dragon scales about my shoulders, I hugged my knees to my chest the way Bion had, sitting on the floor in the tower, and blinked up at the dragon. Was he asking me to supply the person? I shook my head.

The dragonlord raised his index talon. “Lord Sackmoore himself could tell him, but is he likely to confess?”

“No.”

He put a second talon in the air, counting off as he spoke. “Would the Gray Knight tell Prince Arden the truth?”

“Not likely, since he serves Lord Sackmoore.” These were obvious questions any simpleton could answer.

He raised a third talon. “So we come to the one person the prince would listen to in earnest and believe, and that is Lady Adela herself.”

“What?” I stood, seized with trembling, my dragon scale blankets dropping to my feet.

His wrinkled eyelids narrowed. “Think, Tess. If Lady Adela knew the truth about her uncle, she would turn against him. Once she tells Prince Arden her uncle was behind her abduction, that crime alone would be enough to reveal the man’s true nature. Arden would imprison Lord Sackmoore, or worse.”

I stooped and folded the scales, more to busy my shaking hands than anything else. My heart thumped in my chest.

“While you slept I sent some will-o’-the-wisps across the sea to Dragon’s Keep. You knew of blue-eyed Ore. I assume you know of her older sister, Eetha, the other female pip Princess Rosalind raised when she was a girl?”

I nodded, too angry yet to speak.

“My wing’s not ready to fly with you riding on my back,” he said. “And Chawl, Eetha’s older brother, stays on Dragon’s Keep, but Eetha can take you.”

“T-take me where?” I stuttered.

“To Lady Adela. You’ll have to hurry, Prince Arden’s crowned tomorrow.”

A pox on him. “No.”

Every bone of my being was in that
no
. “The woman thinks I’m a witch. She tortured me, threatened my friends, made us run. All the cruel things that happened to us and to Tom were because of her.” I was choking on the words, my throat tightening so I could barely breathe.

“She does not think you are a witch, Tess. She never did. Have you noticed what’s been happening all up and down the countryside these last few months?”

“What do you mean?”

“You recall how Lady Adela used to hunt older woman as well as young? After King Kadmi died, she turned her attentions on the young. Why is that? Why be consumed with young girls attracted to Dragonswood, girls who were accused of displaying magic powers?”

I remembered how she’d let Joan Midwife speak at my trial. The lady had seemed less concerned about Joan’s crimes, more fixed on mine.

The dragon went on in a craggy voice. “Lady Adela heard the troubadour’s song. All the people were meant to hear it to prepare them for a fey maiden on the throne. But the words enraged Adela. She would do anything to stop a half-fey girl or any other maiden from marrying the man she loved.”

I glanced up at his burning eyes. “What?”

“You know Arden and Adela were lovers, Tess. You heard all about that in the tower. Tell me now why she arrested you and the others.” He tapped his black talon against the rocky floor, waiting for my answer,
click, click, click
.

“She did not think me a witch,” I said, piecing it together slowly as one would stitch a long tear, carefully aligning the ragged edges. “She thought I might be half fey, and if so, if the song was true about a half-fey girl marrying the prince,
her
prince, I’d threaten her chance to win Arden back when he returned.”

“You and the other girls, all threats as you say. And,” Kahlil added, “there’s no doubt Lord Sackmoore made sure Adela had all the funds she needed to round girls up. He wanted the half-fey girls destroyed to make his daughter queen.”

Overwhelmed, I rushed outside and leaned over on hands and knees. The ground spun, my stomach lurched. Stumbling, I made my way to the pond on the little isle, the beech trees skeletal in the rising mist. I thought of what she’d said when she’d tightened the thumbscrews.

There are two reasons a girl enters Dragonswood. Either she goes to join with Satan, or she’s drawn in by the fey
.

So she’d known. All along, she’d known. Heat inflamed my body. I pulled off my slippers and waded in the murky pond.

Lady Adela had looked at me with her fey eye.
What are your powers?

I don’t have powers
. The lie had hung between us. She’d seen I was half fey, scented my magic.

My feet sank in the oozing mud. Had it been the same with Tanya? Did calling us witches simplify her mission? The girls she sought would have powers, perhaps not those witches were said to have, but close enough. Why not keep it simple, have the folk point out any girls with powers, any girls seen in Dragonswood. Folk liked witch hunts. There was drama in it, and righteousness, and sport.

I walked around the pond and sat in the rushes. On the surface a large green rock moved, dipping up, then down, coming slow across the water.

“You saved me, I think,” I whispered to the turtle. “You or your brother. I never thanked you for it.” I slid my feet deeper in, but the turtle ignored me and swam past. “Well… thank you anyway, sir.”

I was a little calmer, if muddier, when I went back into the cave and bowed to the dragonlord. “My lord, I understand the reason for your plan. She might convince Arden. She of all people might change his heart, but you know I can’t go to the witch hunter. She’ll arrest me.”

“She cannot arrest you, Tess.”

“There’s a bounty on my head, my lord,” I reminded.

“The lady’s a captive.”

“Adela?” I couldn’t imagine anyone holding Lady Adela against her will. I have to admit the part of me that sought revenge was warmed by the news. “Who holds her? Where?”

“The Gray Knight keeps her on Black Swan Isle.”

I knew Lord Sackmoore had a castle and lands on the tiny offshore isle. “Why take her there?”

“Sackmoore wants her and the prince kept apart.”

“How long have you known this, my lord?”

“I knew the day their ship reached Black Swan. Will-o’-the-wisps may be small, but they can fly many miles over the sea.”

“Let the wisps tell her the truth about her uncle, then.”

Lord Kahlil lowered his head. The nearness of his toothy jaw unnerved me. I thought of the iron spikes in the castle portcullis gate. “Would the lady have reason to believe fairies, Tess?”

“Would she believe me?” Anger and fear sharpened my question to a shriek.

Smoke twined from the dragon’s nose. “I think she might if you made it clear you have no desire to marry the man she loves.”

I thought of Prince Arden locking Bion in the tower, knocking him to the floor when Bion tried to tell him the truth about Sackmoore, and punching his brother in the jaw.

“I would never marry Arden.”

“Not even to be queen?”

“Not even to be queen.”

“Just so.” Lord Kahlil’s left eye swiveled up. Flicking out his long tongue, he furled a bat and drew it into his mouth with a soft crunch.

I ran my hand over the dragon scale blankets I’d slept under.
From a boy, the younger prince Bion showed no fear of dragons. The same cannot be said of Arden. I say Tess is better suited to Bion.
Had he known even then that I loved Bion?

“Onadon wanted you on the throne, Tess. He’ll be disappointed, but I am not.”

It saddened me to think I’d let him down. I’d wanted so much to please the father I’d been apart from all these years. Poppy too would disappoint the fey. Steeped in my host’s wine, I wasn’t sure how much I’d said the night before. “Did I mention Poppy last night?”

“You didn’t. Is she pleased with Pendragon Castle? Is Tupkin minding his manners?”

“Tupkin? Why bring him up?”

“He goes everywhere with her. He was a nuisance here.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “He can be a pest.”

“He kept leaping up and swiping the air, trying to catch a will-o’-the-wisp in his claws. He didn’t, of course, they’re much too quick for him. What did you want to tell me about Poppy?”

I signed. “She has no interest in Prince Arden either, sir. She’s met someone.”

Lord Kahlil flicked out his tongue, waiting.

“A fey man named Jyro.”

“The juggler?” The dragon’s laugh was deafening as a landslide. His enormous mouth opened to a red cave. His ribs shook. I covered my ears until he was done.

“Yes,” he said. “Of course she likes him. Jyro spied her the night we rescued Tanya. The boy talked on and on about her.”

“She saw Jyro that night too.”

“Mmm,” he rumbled.

Were they meant to be together even then?
I dismissed the thought; too romantic for my blood, though Poppy would have liked it. “She’s set on Jyro. I don’t think she can be convinced to marry Prince Arden now,” I said. “Where does that leave the fairy prophecy?”

I looked up in his eyes, shining gold as the flit hives; they were very old, vivid with life, altogether wild.

“The prophecy says
The Prince shall wed a Fairy child
. It does not say which prince, does it? There are two.”

“A fey queen would protect Dragonswood. My father said so. They all think so, and Prince Bion isn’t going to be king.”

The dragon swiped and munched another bat. “Can you see the future?”

I saw things in the fire-sight; small, blazing glimpses. They did not predict earthquakes, wars, a kingdom’s future. Thus far the visions had been more personal and seemed meant for me alone. “No, my lord. All is dark.”

“Not so dark, Tess.” Kahlil scratched under his wing. “I doubt Prince Arden will be interested in Lady Lizbeth. You told me Prince Arden tackled his brother. It was what Bion said about Lady Adela’s kidnapping that set him off, wasn’t it?”

“Aye, it was.”

“Yesss,” he said extending the
s
into a thoughtful, serpent’s hiss. “Love will win out, I think, if you bring them together.”

“She is my enemy!”

“Set that aside, Tess.”

“Aside? Set it aside? She tortured me. She nearly had me drowned. I had to run and take my friends with me lest she arrest them all, and she had Tom dragged through town behind—”

“I heard this all last night.” It was the only time he’d interrupted me.

I looked up.
Of course Kahlil knows it all. He dropped the turtle in the millpond, scorched his wing saving Tanya, and here I am arguing with the ancient dragon.
“You don’t know what you are asking, my lord.”

“I know what I am asking. I also know whom I’m asking.”

“I won’t go to her. Find another.” I grabbed my rucksack and quit his den.

The dragon scales cloaked me against the chilly day. Fog swirled around rocks and trees as I circled the pond and settled in the lee of a standing stone.

Saints! I’d be a fool to go to her or help her in any way. I was glad she was locked up. I hoped they’d hang her by her arms from a ceiling hook. There must be more than one way to turn Prince Arden against Lord Sackmoore. Surely I could come up with something better. Wandering down narrow paths through tangled greenery, I circled God’s Eye’s rocky shoreline, returned to the small pond near Lord Kahlil’s cave a little more refreshed, but with no clear plan.
I shouldn’t have to go to her. There has to be another way
. Perhaps if I wrote down some thoughts, made a list?

I had the quill and small ink block from the hunting lodge with me in my rucksack. Princess Rosalind had used dragon scales to make her book on Dragon’s Keep. Lord Kahlil’s scales were large and cumbersome, plenty of room to write. A bit of rubbing and some drops of pond water made a good, black ink.

One scale wrapped about my shoulders, the other on my lap, I set my thoughts down beginning with the argument in the tower, I teased out clues. Partway down the scale an idea emerged. What if we found one of the women Lord Sackmoore paid to abduct Lady Adela? As the story went, the knights killed the cutthroats guised as witches when they rescued the lady, all but one, as I recall. Find her and she could tell Arden the truth about Adela’s abduction. But how could I hope to find the kidnapper who’d survived, and even if I did, why confess her crime knowing she’d be hanged for it?

God’s teeth! Was there no solution?

I leaned against the standing stone, the lake mist still rising thick as dragon smoke around God’s Eye. Rewrapping the small ink block and slipping it back in the rucksack, I washed my inky fingers in the pond. Black ink coiled in the water.

How could I help Bion without going to my enemy?

A sudden tempest swirled around me. I held my writing scale, my cloak flying out. It seemed as if I had unleashed my fears and by this, brought on a storm. But it was dragon wings made the gale that blew my hair back. From the mist, a female dragon came into view, circling once before landing outside the dragonlord’s lair.

Her back was to me and her curving tail encircled half the pond, the tip dipping down in the shallows where frogs leaped, suddenly disturbed. My chest pounded, but I got to my feet. She was larger than her little sister, Ore, who’d been the runt of the hatchlings. Her golden right eye swiveled to take me in while her left turned the opposite way, scanning the cave entrance as Lord Kahlil emerged.

As he stepped outside, I was reacquainted with his impressive size. Twice as long as Eetha, Lord Kahlil was nearly as large as the
Malarkey.