The Frog Princess 07 - Dragon Kiss

by E. D. Baker

  The dragon king narrowed his eyes in anger and the other members of the council gasped as the crest on top of his skull rose. Only Song of the Glacier didn’t seem intimidated by his aggressive stance. “You would not say such things if the fire-breathers had killed members of your own family,” growled King Stormclaw.

  “But they did!” exclaimed Audun’s grandmother.

  Glancing at the others in the chamber, the king shook his head. “We will talk of this another time.” He took a deep breath and his crest relaxed, making him seem less formidable. Turning to Audun, King Stormclaw said, “You ask for something I will not give. You may spend one more night in the stronghold, and leave in the morning. Now go, before my temper rises again.”

  Audun felt as if someone had stuck an icicle into his innards and twisted it. He toyed with the idea of fleeing the island to go find Millie before King Stormclaw could stop him, but then he saw a peculiar look pass between the king and Song of the Glacier. Apparently something was going on here that he couldn’t understand.

  Worried and upset, Audun left the antechamber. He had no sooner stepped onto the ramp when a gaggle of young dragonesses rushing up the slanted floor surrounded him and carried him along with them.

  “Wait!” he said, trying to work his way through the crowd. “I have to—”

  Someone nudged him back into the middle of the group of dragonesses. “You have to go with us!” Hildie announced from beside him. “We want you to try the chute. You’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “But I’m really not in the mood for—”

  “Then we’ll put you in the mood,” said Hildie.

  Loolee danced around him, nimbly avoiding the other dragons’ feet. “You have to come with us, Audun! Please?”

  “All right. I’ll do it for you, Loolee,” Audun replied, smiling down at the little dragoness.

  The dragonesses’ enthusiasm was so contagious that by the time they reached the top of the ramp, Audun was nearly as excited as they were. They had passed countless corridors on the way up, but there was nothing at the highest point of the ramp except a level platform and a smooth tunnel angled steeply down.

  “I’m going first this time!” Loolee shouted, as she ran to the edge of the platform. Amid a storm of protest from the other dragonesses, the little dragon girl carefully tucked her wings to her sides and hopped off the platform and into the tunnel. “Hoowee!” she shouted, as she disappeared from sight.

  “Audun is next!” Hildie cried. She shoved him to the front of the still-forming line.

  “What should I do?” he asked, teetering on the lip of the platform.

  “Go!” shouted all the dragonesses. Half a dozen of them pushed him from behind.

  Audun stumbled off the edge . . . and fell. “No!” he shouted. His heart seemed to climb into his throat, but the ice that formed the twisting, turning chute was so smooth that he couldn’t have stopped, no matter what. Opening his wings was out of the question—there wasn’t enough room. He raised his head once, bumping it sharply against the ceiling of the chute. After that he remained crouched as he hurtled down the incline on all fours, using his tail to keep his balance.

  The chute wound steeply around the island, doubling back and looping through the center at least twice. There was no way out until the bottom, but soon the drop that had been terrifying became exhilarating and Audun didn’t want it to end. Finally, the ice-filtered daylight gave way to the absolute darkness of stone, and his ride was over. Sliding out of the chute onto a smooth stone floor, Audun glanced up at the wavering torches and saw Loolee waiting for him in the long, narrow room.

  “Did you like it?” the little dragoness asked, her eyes bright.

  “That was great!” said Audun.

  Loolee grabbed his arm and pulled. “Come on, then. We can do it again, but we have to get to the top before anyone else or they’ll make us go to the end of the line.”

  Audun stood on wobbling legs and said, “Lead the way.” Loolee grinned, and Audun grinned back. He looked around as he followed the little dragoness up the ramp and was surprised by how deep into the heart of the island the chute had carried them. “What’s down here?” he asked, as they passed the first of the corridors.

  “Not much,” she replied. “King Stormclaw’s lair is one level below this, but you can’t get there from here. Even if you could, it’s off-limits to just about everybody. They say he keeps his treasure in a pit below his lair and it’s filled with precious gems. His councillors all have their rooms on this floor. They have meeting rooms and stuff on the floors above this. The audience chamber is on the floor above those. I don’t like it down here. It’s too dark even with the torches. I like the ice levels better. It’s always brighter up there, except during the really bad storms.”

  “Are the councillors’ chambers off-limits, too?” asked Audun.

  Loolee shrugged. “I suppose not, but nobody ever wants to go there. Why do you want to know?”

  “Because my grandmother is the king’s newest councillor,” Audun said. “I’d like to go see her if I can.”

  “You’re related to a councillor! That’s so chilled! I wish I was!”

  Audun chuckled at the little dragoness’s enthusiasm. “So,” he said, “if I wanted to see my grandmother, which way should I go?”

  “That’s easy. Go back to that hallway,” Loolee said, pointing to the corridor they had just passed, “and turn right. You’ll know you’re almost there when you run into the guards. But I’ve got to go if I want to be first again. See ya!”

  While the little dragoness ran up the ramp, Audun followed her directions and went the other way. The corridor was wide, and it made abrupt changes in direction that soon had him completely disoriented. He slowed when he heard voices ahead, one of which was familiar.

  “And then I told her, ‘Of course my feet are cold. I’m an ice dragon, aren’t I?’ ”

  Audun recognized Frostybreath’s voice and wondered if the rough laughter that followed his joke belonged to the guards Loolee had mentioned. Rounding the next corner, Audun found Frostybreath talking to two equally huge dragons wearing medallions bearing the insignia of the king’s guards.

  “Halt!” cried one of the guards, the smile on his face changing to a scowl as he arched his neck and spread his wings to make himself look even bigger and more intimidating. “What business have you here, young dragon?”

  “I’ve come to see my grandmother,” Audun replied. “I heard her rooms are on this level.”

  “That depends,” said the other guard. “Who is your grandmother?”

  “Her name is Song of the Glacier,” said Audun, looking from one guard to the other.

  “It’s true,” Frostybreath said, when the two guards looked skeptical. “Iceworthy told me so this morning.”

  “Then you’re in luck, young dragon,” said the first guard, as he lowered his wings. “Your grandmother returned to her rooms not ten minutes ago. Someone will have to escort you to her, however, and we’re not allowed to leave our posts.” The dragon gave Frostybreath a meaningful look.

  The big dragon sighed. “I suppose I can take him. But you owe me for this, Tailshaker, just like you owe me for guarding him while you had your fang repaired.”

  “I’ll pay you back next week.” The guard laughed. “You can count on it.”

  Audun was impressed by the size of his grandmother’s rooms. There were three of them and each was bigger than the largest room in his family’s cave. The first two rooms were furnished with dark woods and rich fabrics that rivaled the colors of his grandfather’s jewels. The bathing pool in the third room was big enough to fit his entire family at once and still would have left room for guests. Even so, what he noticed most as his grandmother gave him a tour was the stiff way she held herself and the cool tone of her voice; it was clear that she wasn’t pleased with him.

  “Why did you come to see me, Audun?” she asked. “You can’t think that I’m going to help you by influencing
the king’s decision.”

  “I must admit that I was hoping you would,” said Audun, “but the real reason I came is to find out why you’re here. At first I thought Grandfather might be with you, but I haven’t smelled him or seen any of his things in your rooms.”

  There was sadness in Song of the Glacier’s eyes. “No,” she said, “he didn’t come with me. The king asked me to come to the island and didn’t include my mate in the invitation.”

  “How did you become one of the king’s councillors?” Audun asked.

  “King Stormclaw wasn’t exaggerating when he said that he’d been asking me for years. I’d turned him down every time because I never felt that he really needed me until now. Even so, when I heard that one of his councillors was dying and that he’d need a replacement soon, I’d hoped to avoid coming here by taking our family and fleeing the Icy North, but after what happened in that witch’s castle, I knew that I couldn’t put you, your parents, or High Flier in danger just because I wanted us to be together. You left before I could explain what I had to do.”

  Audun nodded, but there was still something he didn’t understand. “Did you know Stormclaw before you came here?”

  His grandmother sighed. “I met him the first time I came to the island. His father was in charge of the guards and his mother had died in a storm just the year before. Stormclaw had nowhere else to go, so the old king let him live here. We became friends and later . . . more than friends.”

  “When did you meet Grandfather?”

  “Old King Bent Tooth had chosen your grandfather, High Flier, for me. Dragonesses must marry whomever the king chooses, and my parents made it clear that I would be no exception. You must understand, I care for your grandfather, but back then I loved Stormclaw and I still do.”

  “So they made you leave Stormclaw and marry Grandfather.”

  His grandmother nodded. “We hadn’t spoken in years because I thought it would be too painful. When he was chosen as the new king and first asked me to be one of his councillors, I didn’t want to come because I wasn’t sure what would happen if I saw him again. I’ve spent most of my life trying to be a good mate to your grandfather, while knowing that someone else was my true love. It’s hard for someone your age to understand, but I hope you will, someday.”

  “I think I already do,” said Audun. “It’s why I need the king’s help. It’s why I need your help, too, Grandmother.”

  Song of the Glacier twitched her tail in agitation. She began to pace in front of him, her scales making a swooshing sound. “Ordinarily, I would do whatever I could to help you, but a human and the daughter of the Green Witch? Are you sure it’s really love, Audun, and not infatuation? Any dragon would be attracted to someone who saved his life, but that doesn’t mean you have to spend your entire life with her. Humans aren’t like us. I’ve told you many times that they lie, cheat, steal, and think only of themselves. They can be cruel to members of their own species and twice as cruel to species they regard as animals, including us.”

  “But Millie isn’t like that. She put her own life in danger to help us. And she’s honest and caring . . . I love her, Grandmother, and it isn’t just because she saved our lives. She is the one I want to share my life with. I will never love another dragoness the way I love her.”

  “Perhaps not, Audun, but have you really thought this through? I’ve seen what living among humans can do to dragons. If you get your wish and learn how to change your form into that of a human, you will always have to hide who you really are and what you can do. You’ll live in constant fear of discovery.”

  “It wouldn’t be like that for me,” said Audun. “Millie is already a dragon part of the time and the people in her kingdom accept her the way she is. Her mother is a Dragon Friend, which means that members of our own kind accept and respect her.”

  “Fire-breathing dragons, perhaps, but you heard what King Stormclaw said. Our kind may not revile her as he does, but neither would they accept her. It’s true that the feud between us is old and mostly forgotten, but the king could make trouble for you should you even desire to remain friends with the girl. If you pursue this relationship without his approval, King Stormclaw will banish you at the very least.”

  “What happened between the fire-breathers and us, Grandmother? No one ever told me.”

  “It happened hundreds of years before I was born, so I don’t know precisely, but apparently, by chance, the ice dragons discovered a cave rich in gems. Considering the love of jewels that all dragons feel, this was a marvelous find. Although the cave was in a distant land, we mined it for years undisturbed, bringing the jewels here to the stronghold, and enriching our kingdom’s treasury. When the human king of the distant land discovered what we were doing, he threatened to bring the wrath of all humans down on us. Instead, we made a pact with him wherein we would continue to mine the gems, and he would receive a share.

  “Once again, all was well, until the fire-breathing dragons learned of our pact with the human king. They tried to find the cave, forcing us to take ever greater measures to hide its location. One day they managed to waylay the dragons bringing the gems to the stronghold and stole a vast number of them. There was a great battle and many were injured on both sides. It happened so long ago that most families have recovered from their loss. But some, like the family of King Stormclaw, hold too tightly to their grudges.”

  “And that’s why he hates Millie’s mother?”

  Audun’s grandmother nodded. “He’s a good dragon, but he can be rash at times as can most dragon kings. That is why they have councillors, like me. You do realize, Audun, that even if you lived in a kingdom where you wouldn’t be persecuted for what you are, you would be throwing away a promising future among dragon kind. I’d always hoped that someday you might aspire to a high position, perhaps even the central platform in the audience chamber.”

  “I don’t want to be king, Grandmother. I just want to choose my own mate. Is that really too much to ask?”

  “You sound like I once did, more’s the pity. No,” she said, sighing again. “I don’t think it’s too much to ask. But what about your talent? I know you haven’t learned what it is yet, and you may not for many years, but what if your talent is something you can use only in the Icy North or that you can’t use around humans? If I didn’t live among glaciers, I would never have known that I can hear them speak.”

  “That’s true, Grandmother, but a lot of ice dragons have talents that have nothing to do with where they live. Grandfather can fly high wherever he is and Mother’s graceful all the time. I bet Frostybreath could freeze things even if he was someplace hot. I just hope my talent is a good one, but whether it is or not, it will have nothing to do with Millie.”

  Song of the Glacier stopped pacing and turned to face him again. “If you truly love Millie, there is one other thing you need to consider. Dragons live for hundreds of years while humans have a much shorter life span. We never have more than one mate. Are you sure you want your mate to be someone who will not live as long as you will? If you marry her, you will do so knowing that you will outlive her and have to endure many years of grieving once she is gone.”

  “I understand that, Grandmother. It is a price I am willing to pay if it means I can have even a few years with Millie.”

  “Then I hope she loves you as much as you love her, my dear grandson.”

  “Will you talk to the king and the other councillors for me?” Audun asked.

  Song of the Glacier sighed. “You’re very persuasive, Audun. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

  Five

  Once more it was Frostybreath who came to tell Audun that the king had summoned him. “But I thought he didn’t want to see me again,” said Audun, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

  “A king can change his mind, just like everyone else,” the big dragon replied. “But be careful what you say. He seemed mighty worked up about something.”

  “I hope he has changed his mind,” Audun said, sudde
nly feeling much more hopeful. “Why did you come for me? Still filling in for your friend?”

  “I was on my way to the top,” said Frostybreath. “So I told my friends that I’d save them the trouble. I’m adding a curlicue to the first part of the chute. I thought an extra flourish would be fun.”

  “I went down your chute with Loolee yesterday. I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun before. It’s great that you can use your talent to make other dragons happy,” said Audun.

  Frostybreath grunted. “I do what I can. It seems to me that a talent isn’t worth much if you can’t use it to help others.”

  Audun waved good-bye to the dragon as they parted ways. He hadn’t discovered his own talent yet, but then few dragons did until they reached their twentieth year. Although he wasn’t worried, he hoped that his talent would be something worthwhile. His grandfather could fly higher than anyone else. His father could fly faster. His mother was as graceful as a drifting snowflake. But his grandmother’s talent was so subtle that she didn’t seem to do anything except sit with her eyes closed, so that she almost appeared to be asleep. When she finally opened her eyes, she would tell Audun and his parents what the glaciers were saying deep in their depths. Sometimes she said they talked about the changes in temperature or what was in the water around them. Sometimes it was about the creatures that lived in the sea nearby. When two or more glaciers bumped into one another, regardless of whether they thundered or whispered, they usually talked about one another.

  As a little dragon there had been times when Audun thought that his grandmother didn’t really have a talent and that she was making it up, but everyone else seemed to believe her and she always did know when a glacier was about to move or when there were new fish in the area. Sometimes dragons came to ask his grandmother for advice and she would go off by herself to listen to a glacier. Eventually, Audun came to understand that she really was special, but it had never occurred to him that the king might think so as well. The more he thought about it, however, the more sense it made that a talent like his grandmother’s could be valuable to anyone who watched out for the welfare of dragons who lived on and around glaciers.