Dragonswood (25 page)

Anon Eetha returned with her kill. Breathing fire, she roasted the venison outside before serving Lord Kahlil. The dragonlord ate first, then Eetha. Last we were served. Adela, still too fear-struck to eat, left her strip of meat and steaming turnip on its stone.

Meal done, Lord Kahlil picked his teeth awhile before pointing a damp talon at me. “Leave us, Tess.”

I jumped up, the name Tess reverberating in the cave. Adela glared. I quit the den. How dare he reveal me to my enemy? Hadn’t we agreed I could keep my disguise as long as I liked?

I was by the pond huffing when Eetha came out after me. We were close enough to the cave mouth to hear the voices within, one deep and rough as cinder rock, the other higher pitched and wavering with fright. Leaning in with my good ear, I still couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Come, Tess, tomorrow’s coronation day. If things are going to unfold as planned, you’ll need your rest.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Then you can rest while I sleep,” she snapped. I followed her to a grassy spot. Things had happened so quickly since I’d arrived on God’s Eye. I could hardly believe Wilde Island would have a new king tomorrow. Eetha lay under a yew tree, patting the ground beside her with her claw. Agitated, I sat near her warm body.

“Why so angry, Tess?”

I supposed it was easy enough to read my mood. “Adela’s a demon.” How much would Eetha know about the witch hunter, having lived on Dragon’s Keep? I told her all the terrible things she’d done to me and my friends. Eetha listened, breathing softly; her exhale made a whistling sound like songbirds in a far-off wood. “I don’t trust her. What if she sides with Prince Arden and Sackmoore and keeps Bion locked up in the tower?”

“Didn’t she agree to our demands?”

“Swore to them and signed the scroll.”

“Then why would she go against her oath?”

“I told you, she’s a bloody fiend!” I curled my fingers round my thumbs remembering the pain.

“Lie down, Tess.” Eetha rested her wing over me, shielding me from the gusts coming up off the lake. On my back, looking up at her elegant wing scales that held the same filigree patterns as I’d seen on the undersides of leaves, I wrangled with my thoughts. How could I help Bion escape if Lady Adela betrayed us? If I made it back into the tower with the last of my sleep potion, and opened a way for Bion, would he even come? I looked at my companion. Her eyes were still open.

“Prince Bion’s still in danger, Eetha.”

“Bion knows what he’s doing, Tess. Be sure of it. He was fearless as a boy. I’m the one who named him Bash,” she added proudly. “Such a ferocious toddler he was, always climbing up my leg to slide down my tail. Before he could lift a sword, Bash sparred with us, using nothing more than a stick, the little imp.” She gave a low chuckle. I thought of him fencing with Ore in the cave as she went on. “Lord Kahlil took him flying when he was but five years old. They both got a scolding for it.”

I laughed. “Who scolded them?”

“His mother, Queen Lucinda, of course.”

I sighed and folded my hands across my belly. “One night at the hunting lodge, Bion showed me his mother’s pearl necklace. He put it in my hand so I could hold it up to the window in the moonlight.”

“He did?” Eetha sounded impressed. Her eyecup swerved to look a little more closely. She kept it on me as I told her of our ride south together to fetch Alice, of the time he’d climbed a tree to sit with me until I was ready to come down.

“Tess,” she whispered. “The man loves you.”

Her quiet words ghosted up over God’s Eye. I remembered the feel of his fingers on my neck, the lightest touch like a passing breeze. Eetha’s words had sent a river through me.

“How can you know something like that?”

“Read his actions, Tess. He climbed the tree to speak with you, told you openly about his sister on Dragon’s Keep,” she said. “She’s dear to him. He doesn’t share his love for her with just anyone.”

“I didn’t know she was his sister back then.”

“Then he risked even more to speak of her that way.”

I’d never had a sister who’d lived more than three weeks, but I’d loved the little ones fiercely and would have done anything for them.

There was a long silence. So long I thought she’d drifted off, but as the yew creaked in the wind she said, “There are few of our kind left, Tess. Our numbers dwindle even with Dragonswood sanctuary and our caves on Dragon’s Keep.” She paused. “In her long life, a female dragon might lay only two clutches, Tess. I’m ready to have my own clutch. My first,” she admitted. “I have chosen Shiraz, a fiery orange dragon from Persia, though he does not know it yet.”

Together we gazed up where a small rent in the mist revealed black sky, a star. “We dragons are not like the fey; we mate for life.”

Eetha did not ask if I loved Bion. She did not have to.

Chapter Thirty-eight

A
T FIRST LIGHT
, I sat up under Eetha’s wing.
The fourteenth of November. Coronation day.

I tapped Eetha’s side. She roused and shook herself awake. We hurried to the cave for a last word with Lord Kahlil. Eetha went in, but Lady Adela stood at the mouth of the cave barring my way. Her face was streaked with dirt and tears.

“I hope you will forgive me, Tess.”

I was speechless.

She eyed my chin now I was unveiled. “Who did that to you?”

“No one. I did it myself. I slipped on the ice.” Why even answer her? I didn’t have to.

“Who doctored you?”

“The fey,” I said with some pride.

“Lucky for you they did the work. I’ve never had any trouble with the clever glass eye they made especially for me.”

I didn’t like to think the fairies had willingly given her the gift. She did not deserve their help, in my opinion. But then, they’d fashioned Adela’s fey eye before she’d become a witch hunter. Perhaps they didn’t know she’d use it to cower the population and frighten poor innocent girls out of their wits?

She was peering much too closely at me. “The fey know how to speed up healing. Such fine thread. What did they use?”

“Flit silk. I doubt you’ve heard of it.”

“Well they’ve done their job. I can see the stitches are ready to come out. Let me do it.” She reached for the small pouch hanging from her waist. “I have some skill with wounds.”

“Skill with wounds?” I snarled, backing away. “Don’t touch me.”

Her velvet waist pouch was already half open. “Are you sure? It will only take a moment.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Let her,” Eetha called from inside the cave. “She’s right. The stitches should come out.”

Maybe so, but the witch hunter didn’t have to do it. “Have you a mirror?” I asked. She might have a small one in her waist pouch. “I’ll take them out myself.”

Adela shook her head. “We left the solar too quickly for me to think to bring a mirror or a brush.” She fingered her tangled hair. “I have only what I use to trim my nails.”

In the end I insisted Eetha come out to watch.

“Chin up,” said Adela.

I sat stone silent as she clipped and pulled the threads out. Our eyes met. Hers were blue as water hyacinth, the glass one slightly darker than the real. I looked straight into her fey eye. Let her see me for what I was. I welcomed it. Her hands were steady tugging the flit threads with such care it did not hurt at all after the first stitch. Her tenderness stupefied me. Was she hoping I’d forgive everything by this?

As soon as she was through, I jumped up, gave no thanks, and marched inside to Lord Kahlil. Adela spoke to my back as I left. “I hope you can someday forgive me, Tess.”

Someday? When Satan sits at the right hand of God.

In the cave, I shouted, “God’s teeth! What did you say to her last night?”

“That is between the lady and myself,” the dragonlord said. “It does not have anything to do with you.”

“It does!”

“Not everything concerns you, Tess.”

Eetha stepped inside and tipped her head. “She’s as wild as Bash.” Both the dragons laughed. I turned and was halfway to the entrance when Lord Kahlil called me to a halt. “Wait, Tess. Bring the lady this.”

He handed me a large blue velvet bag. I looked at it suspiciously. “What’s inside?”

“Bargaining chips.”

I opened the sack. A king’s crown and scepter winked up at me from the dark maw. “Why would you entrust a witch hunter with these precious things?”

“She wants to bring them to the coronation.”

“Of course she does! I won’t hand them over.”

“It’s time to go,” said Eetha.

Sack in hand, I followed Eetha out. Lady Adela was crouched over the pond washing her face. Her cheeks were blotched when she looked up. “He hasn’t seen me since the day… I don’t know if I can show Arden my face. What if he—”

“You are not completely unsightly,” I said coldly. I clutched the velvet bag. The crown and scepter had not gone with the rest of the stolen treasure, it seemed. Bion had stashed them here for safekeeping until coronation day.

Lady Adela’s face still dripped. “My glass eye,” she said, pulling back her hair, then letting it fall down again. She turned her back. Her shoulders were hunched.

“We will be late if we don’t leave soon.”

She wiped her eyes. “Yes. All right, I will come. We must be brave, mustn’t we?”

“Do as you like,” I snapped.

W
E WERE LATE
. Almost too late. Spying down from a rent in the dark clouds, I saw the amphitheatre already full to bursting with the population. The ceremony had begun. Prince Arden was enthroned center stage under the colorful cloth awning. The bishop and his priest were there with a handful of knights and Lord Sackmoore. Just below and to the right of the stage, Prince Bion stood with armed guards at his back. Not far from him I glimpsed my father and the fey delegation dressed in their finery.

I saw all in an instant, for just then Eetha called, “Hold on,” and knifed through the clouds. A storm broke with our coming as if she’d winged in the rain. Showers hit the stands where frightened people jumped up screaming at the sight of the dragon. They crushed one another on the steps trying to race down.

Prince Bion shouted, “Stay, people. Do not be afraid.”

His voice carried up through the amphitheatre. Some still ran down the stairs and out, but others stayed. On stage Lord Sackmoore waved his arms. “Get back, dragon!” He and his knights drew their swords shouting more threatening warnings.

Eetha landed smoothly and lowered her head just long enough for Lady Adela and me to climb onto the stage. Then Eetha stepped off the platform. The crowd in the stadium seats climbed higher, so only Prince Bion with his guards, and the fey guests stayed at ground level with the dragon.

The knights encircled Prince Arden, swords up to protect the future king. Seeing Lady Adela, Arden called, “Wait! Don’t harm them!”

Adela went boldly forward. I followed, keeping her in my sights. We’d delivered her as promised. I was here to make sure she kept her word.

“I have your king’s crown, Your Royal Highness,” she said, trembling. Adela reached for the velvet sack in my arms. We had it between us now, my hand on it and hers.

Lord Sackmoore leaped in front of us. “What trickery is this? You disturb our holy occasion!” He thrust a hand out. “Give it to me.”

“No, Uncle. It belongs to Prince Arden.” She took the smaller crown from the priest’s satin pillow and replaced it with the true one.

“Thieves!” said Sackmoore. “Arrest them both.”

“Wait,” cried Lady Adela as the knights surrounded us.

“Please, Your Royal Highness,” I pleaded, “hear the lady out. She brought the true crown for your coronation in good faith. Your brother promised your crown would come in time and here it is.”

“On my word, I promised you,” Prince Bion called from below, rain streaming down his face. He was wet as a dog and smiling up at me.

“Will no one offer Prince Bion shelter?” I said. I was ignored. But Arden waved his knights away from us.

Then he stepped a little closer, not to touch his king’s crown, but to brush back Lady Adela’s hair. “You wear it the way you did as a girl,” he said.

I was close enough to hear the fond remark.

“I had no time to put it up and…” She paused, blushing. “Thank you,” she said. “Please, if I might speak with you,” she added.

“Soon, Adela.”

“Now, please,” she insisted. “It must be now, before you are crowned.”

“What can be so needy of attention?” He frowned. Still, he didn’t sit again to continue the ceremony or wave the lady away.

“It is just this. My uncle was the one who ordered my kidnapping. He had me maimed so you would no longer want me.”

“That is a lie!”

“Shut up, Sackmoore!” He pointed at the man. The knights moved in.

Arden asked, “You are sure this is true, Adela?”

“I know it’s true. My uncle imprisoned me on Black Swan. I only now escaped with the help of this girl, Tess, and the dragon, Eetha.”

Sackmoore’s mouth twisted. “Prince Arden… Sire. Witches attacked my niece, poor girl. She’s not been the same since. I tried to warn you in my letters. Feel sorry for her as I do, but do not let yourself be fooled. She has lost her mind.”

Prince Arden whipped round, drew his sword, and slashed Sackmoore’s cheek.

I jumped back as the man hunched over, face in hands, blood dripping onto the stage. The prince wiped the bloody weapon, then held the clean blade in the air for all to see as the knights dragged Sackmoore from the stage.

The crowd cheered. Handing the sword to one of the remaining knights, he went down on his knees before the bishop. The bishop anointed the future king with holy oil. All seemed to hold their breath as he placed the crown on Arden’s head.

Trumpets sounded. Shouts went up. “Long live King Arden! Long live the king!”

I pulled the scepter from the velvet bag. The cheering heightened to a roar when I passed it to the king. Standing with his arm around Lady Adela, he held it high. King Uther Pendragon’s daughter, our first Wilde Island queen, brought the scepter here nearly seven hundred years ago. Here was proof of our sovereign’s Pendragon bloodline. The fist-sized golden dragon perched atop the staff was ruby-eyed and diamond-toothed.

Even in the rain, I caught the sound of dragon wings. Lord Kahlil and Ore flew over the stadium bearing a great bundle between them. Skimming in lower, they dropped the bundle on the stage with a thump. It landed at King Arden’s feet.

“Our treasure, brother,” Bion called from below. “Protected by the dragons until you were crowned.”

Lord Kahlil and Ore circled over stage and treasure bundle as the new king untied the knotted cloth and peered inside. From where I stood I saw golden gleams and silver. Red stones that must be rubies, emeralds, sapphires, more. But the one I thought of was the smallest of these, and the plainest. Where was Queen Lucinda’s pearl?

“The king’s treasure is returned!” Arden shouted.

All was pandemonium. The cheering crowd, the lashing rain on tarpaulin, stage, and amphitheatre, the heavy gusting wind: All ran together to one resilient roar. Lord Kahlil and Ore landed next to Eetha at the foot of the stage. Three dragons raised their heads and spewed blue fire up into the rain. Flame and water sparked overhead like fireworks. Shining blue light filtered down in fizzling sparks on the crowd below.

On Bion’s right, Onadon and Elixis gazed up at the flames. In that moment of distraction Poppy made her break. Deserting her fey father, she raced, screaming joyfully, into the revelers who swarmed down to the ground level. She grabbed a brightly dressed man waving a pole adorned with colorful ribbons and held on as Jyro dropped the pole to spin her round and round.

One fey princess gone into the arms of another, the second was on the stage with Lady Adela. Onadon looked up at me. He did not point a finger; still, I was bound by his powerful gaze. His eyes said,
You betrayed me
. I saw no love or forgiveness there. My father didn’t know how carefully we’d worded the demands in Lady Adela’s letter. That I’d made her swear if she was queen she’d protect Dragonswood. If she failed to win her man, Bion would step in to guard the sanctuary.

Father’s cool green eyes were hard. I held him look for look. I’d been his choice, his champion. I’d wanted to love him as a daughter loves a father. But he had not seen me for who I was. He still did not see me.

A child raced through the crowd. I caught sight of Alice’s dimpled face as she bounded toward the edge of the stage, her curls bouncing even in the downpour. So Meg and Tom had come to the coronation! I spied Meg below, chasing Alice in her sodden cloak. Tom ran behind. Both parents shouted through the boisterous mob.

The audience had given the dragons a wide berth at the foot of the stage, so the small area was open enough for me to see Alice speeding toward Bion, holding her doll up as our new king had raised his scepter. She held it in the air to Bion, for he was its maker.

I guessed from my place on the stage the doll was broken. The child had a second wooden piece in her other hand.

Dragon’s blue fire overhead, the revelers still cheering, I saw Bion go down on his knee before the little girl. He kept his hands behind his back and did not take the doll Alice held out to him. I wondered at it until I heard King Arden calling down, “Guards, release my brother.” And I saw the knight slit the cords on Bion’s wrists.

Once unbound, he brought his hands round to Alice. The child’s back was to me. I could see Bion’s dripping hair and earnest face as he spoke to her. The tumultuous crowd moved in waves, the wind and rain were deafening, but the world went still for me and silent in the eye of the storm where Bion knelt with Alice.

I am a girl who has known mostly the back of a man’s hand, and not the front of it. My heart filled with a terrible crushing ache as I watched him touching the doll so and so with his forefinger, showing Alice where he might mend it. The child nodded, listening to the words I could not hear. By now I had stepped out from under the awning, though I did not remember moving out. Slanting rain pelted my face. There was no wounding in it, only a wildness as raw as any hard November rain that swells rivers and crumbles hillsides.

Bion stood with Alice in his arms and handed her back to Meg. My shoes were at stage edge, my heart somewhere outside of me in the rainstorm. Bion was free now to live as he chose.
All I truly want is to live year-round with my sister in the modest castle on Dragon’s Keep.
Was that all, truly all?

I leaned out, wishing to be drenched as Bion was drenched. The sky letting down all its fury and celebration on us, the water slapping and clapping and taking the last traces of Sackmoore’s blood from the stage.

“Tess?” he shouted up.

“Bash?”

“Come down.” He waved his arms, laughing and stomping in a puddle. I jumped from the stage, and stomped. Freezing water splashed up my legs.