by Dianna Love
“Man, you had a bunch of enemies back then, Daegan.”
Turning to head down the stairs, Daegan said, “I did. It appears I have even more today.” After navigating the tunnels, he reached the secret doorway into his father’s bedroom and waited with his ear at the door where voices indicated that someone was in the room. Once silence fell for a minute, he opened the four-foot-tall door created as part of the wall, and stood.
The sight of his father’s bed still in this room took his breath. His eyes stung, but he blinked away the tears.
Daegan’s gaze had wandered to the spot where his da had carved a notch in the wall for every year Daegan grew until manhood. The last day his da had marked his height at seventeen years, he’d told Daegan, “One day, you will watch your son grow to this height and I will be here to make his marks next to yours.”
“What’s wrong?” Tristan asked as he climbed through the opening and closed it behind him.
Unwilling to admit the memory, Daegan glared at the bed with a modern cloth covering, not furs. “The bed clothing is not correct.”
“You want to tell them?” Tristan asked, smiling.
It was enough to ease Daegan out of the sadness. Casting a hard glance at Tristan, Daegan replied, “Definitely not.”
Stepping toward the heavy doorway where a gold rope had been hooked between two stands, Tristan glanced out in each direction. “I’ll watch for the next tour while you search.”
Another tour group came up the hallway before Daegan had finished his search. He teleported the two of them to the hidden passageway again. Once the tour had moved on, he teleported them back to the room now that he believed they would not surprise a human.
Daegan left with only painful memories from the empty room as he and Tristan stepped into the silent hallway. He led the way to the wide wooden stairs, which would take them down to the great room, but bypassed the stairway and continued to take a second set of steps to the kitchen.
Servants had used this stairway to run between the kitchen and private chambers of the family.
Daegan had to turn his large body sideways. “If I had taken these stairs in my time, I would have torn them down and built the space wider.”
“To make it more comfortable for someone of your size?”
“No. I could teleport anywhere, which I did often. I realize now the servants would have benefitted by a wider stairwell for carrying things.”
At the last step, he entered the undercroft where supplies had once been stored. Now, stacks of printed materials and a store of bottled water had been placed here. He paused, listening. Voices sounded nearby.
Keeping his head bent to pass through the low-ceiling room with a musty odor, he and Tristan entered what had been the cook’s domain in Daegan’s time and encountered a human couple. They were admiring cooking tongs and other utensils forged by the blacksmith.
Both of them jumped at Daegan and Tristan walking in. Always on his toes, Tristan said, “Thank goodness. I thought we’d never find our way out of here. We’ve lost our tour guide. Which way should we go?”
The middle-aged woman with fluffed-up hair and plump cheeks pointed to a doorway. “Go back to the main hall where you started. You should be able to jump into a tour there.”
“Thank you.”
Daegan took the lead again to exit the kitchen and entered the large room for meals. He had to move around clumps of tourists talking excitedly about the castle to reach the central area that had once been the great hall.
Waving a hand at Tristan, Daegan said, “This way.” He headed to where a guide spouted her practiced mantra at the far end of the room.
Daegan had taken several steps and stopped short to read a brass plate on the stone wall. The plaque described his family's history, as if one small plaque could tell everything. And not a mention of a dragon.
Tristan remained silent at his side.
Daegan mentally thumped himself for being sidetracked again. He continued on until he’d exited into a long hallway. As they walked, he could not prevent himself from slowing to glance inside each room. One cozy area held a tall flat loom leaned against a wall. Not the one he’d brought from another land just to gift his sisters when they visited, but similar.
He could almost smell the fresh wool threads and his sisters’ flowery soap scent, which had once filled this room.
Up ahead, the tour group had paused at the doorway of what had been the steward’s room. They snapped photos with their phones and asked questions, then their guide moved them along.
When Daegan reached the room, he waited until Tristan said, “All clear.”
That was his signal to enter the room while Tristan remained in the hallway to keep watch.
Daegan took in the array of display tables supporting sturdy boxes with thick glass tops. He lifted one most humans would be unable to pick up due to the heavy structure and found a wire attached to it that ran to a small black box mounted on the wall.
A red light blinked on and off.
Security.
Tristan had pointed out similar devices to Daegan.
Lowering the case back in place, Daegan began studying the contents in each one. Some had newer dates from the 1500s, but he finally stepped up to one table where two display cases were labeled with dates from the turn of the century.
Or rather, the turn of the century when he lived here.
The cases had been bolted down and held thick journals of parchment paper. He recognized the perfect script Germanus had used to record all accounting for his king. Once Daegan determined which journal had been the older of the two, he pointed his finger and flicked it left to right, kinetically turning the pages.
A brass plate indicated the documents in this room had been placed on display for the general public, but also indicated additional records were being kept at some historical conservatory.
Those would do Daegan little good. Only this one. It appeared to have been one of the last journals of King Gruffyn’s time. He found nothing that hinted at where a grimoire might be hidden, but he had expected no such clue. Still, he held out hope that reading this would jog something from his memory for where to look.
Due to his ability to read the pages quickly, he finished that one and moved to the journal which had a plaque stating it was the last one kept during King Gruffyn’s life.
More kinetic flipping and scanning, until he sadly came closer to the last page. It felt as if he lived through losing his father once again.
A thick knot formed in his throat.
With a handful of pages left, he flipped to one with a different handwriting than the scribbling by Germanus. These delicate swirls seemed to be a more feminine writing to Daegan.
While Daegan had great respect for the intelligence of women in today’s world, his father had lived in a time when women were not educated to read and write, except for females of dragon blood. This clearly appeared to have been written by a woman, though.
He scanned the page, reading how Germanus had disappeared and was feared dead. He snorted at that, wanting to update this journal with the truth.
At the end of the first page of newly penned notes, the person signed it Noirín Luigsech, the king’s squire.
His heart pumped hard as a fist pummeling an enemy.
He pointed a trembling finger to swipe the page and read more. She went on to declare the king had requested she remain as his squire. As was normal, he moved her entire family into the castle, which included her parents and two sisters. Finding a squire with multiple sisters had been considered most desirable. Female squires were valued for their long memory, which in hindsight made him realize how wrong men of his era had been not to teach them to read and write.
Females had shown a better ability to retain details and carry a family’s history forward.
Bards were similar in that they wrote songs to the history, but they focused more on entertainment than mundane details.
This woman had been an exceptiona
l addition to his father’s staff.
Daegan chastised himself for not taking Garwyli’s words to heart and hunting the Luigsech descendants. What would it hurt to at least look?
Holding his breath, Daegan flipped to the last page with text.
That one ended with erratic scrawling as if penned in a hurry. Her words tore his heart apart.
The king passed this day. The dragons come for which we have no defense. I fear we face our last day on earth.
Dropping his hands to each side of the case, Daegan leaned in, breathing hard. His shoulders shook with anger, hurt, and bone-deep anguish.
Damn Queen Maeve.
Ruadh rumbled. No enemy to kill.
I cannot stand this helpless feeling, he told his dragon.
We will find enemy.
Still facing away from the room, Tristan whispered, “You okay, boss? Your energy is shaking the floor.”
Daegan exhaled and straightened. He calmed his power and swallowed hard. “’Tis all good.”
“I hear voices at the end of the hall. Did you find anything?”
Waiting until he stepped over and ducked under the golden rope, he told Tristan, “Not on the grimoire, but I did find names related to the Luigsech female my father brought in to be his squire. There is a very thin possibility this woman would have been shown where our volume of the grimoire had been hidden since my father did not inform me of its existence. Still, with nothing else to go on, we should try to find a link to these Luigsechs. ’Tis time to contact Adrianna.”
Tristan turned surprised eyes to him. “No, shit? That’s ... that’s pretty freaking amazing.”
In spite of the tangled emotions Daegan had suffered since arriving at the castle, he smiled. His right-hand man had a way of lifting his spirits regardless of what they faced.
Daegan clamped a hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “Very amazing. What say you we take a quick look at the squire’s rooms then eat while we wait to hear from Adrianna? She indicated it would not take Isak long to locate someone if he had specific names.”
After a quick review of the squire family rooms, Daegan came out. “Just as I thought. No written records there. I need a place to contact Adrianna uninterrupted. Let’s go to—”
Tristan interrupted., “Do you hear that, boss?”
Daegan had been ignoring the roar of too many voices with his ability to hear everything. Now, he tuned in.
“That can’t be a dragon,” someone argued loudly.
“Oh, shit,” Tristan muttered.
Chapter 15
Daegan hurried toward the castle great hall where guides had been grouping their tour guests.
The closer he and Tristan came, the more voices lifted excitedly with the word “dragon” being spoken constantly.
He paused to take in the crowd, but Tristan pushed into the room and joined a group as if he’d been part of their pack. He asked in an upbeat tone, “Hey, what’s all the excitement?”
“There’s a video of that dragon again. The one they saw in Ukraine,” a young woman in jeans and a frilly blouse replied breathlessly. “I can’t believe this.”
Daegan couldn’t decide if she sounded afraid or anxious to meet a dragon.
Someone next to her scoffed, “I’ll bet it’s just CGI, all a bunch of hype for some new movie with dragons.”
Another man nearby called out, “No way. Look at this. It’s being filmed live on social networks. You can’t fake that.”
Daegan caught up to Tristan who had moved next to a twenty-something man in shorts and a button-down shirt, staring at his phone.
Tristan asked, “You sure it’s not some high-tech mechanical dragon?”
The guy flipped his phone around. “You tell me.”
Daegan leaned around Tristan. A red dragon flying beneath an airplane was being filmed from above. It’s muscular movements appeared natural. The wing movement, everything about that dragon seemed genuine.
All but the red coloration, which could not be mistaken for his.
Good luck explaining that to terrified humans.
Daegan’s jaw tightened to keep from cursing.
Who the hell was out there imitating Ruadh? Daegan could tell more of the dragon if it did not wear a glamour, which it clearly used.
“Oh, no,” a young woman cried. “They’re going to blow it up.”
Angling his head away from the crowd, Tristan led Daegan to the side of the room and pulled out the phone he’d brought when they teleported.
He slid his finger across quickly then stopped and angled the phone to Daegan. “Look, boss.”
The video on his phone had the word “LIVE” flashing. The image showed a pair of fierce-looking aircraft taking off as if they’d been shot out of a giant catapult.
“Those are smaller than the airplanes in Atlanta,” Daegan commented.
Speaking low in spite of the crowd noise shielding their words, Tristan explained, “That's because these are the fighter jets Evalle and I were warning you about. If they get to the dragon before it vanishes again, they'll shoot it. I have no doubt. They’re loaded with weapons that can disintegrate a dragon.”
“Why? I can understand the fear of a giant beast torching the land, but I have not heard the dragon has killed anyone.”
“True, but humans are in panic mode. Although, some will not be happy, because our books and movies have romanticized dragons as a mythological wonder. As long as a dragon is on the big screen, humans fall in love with them, but now that they’re finding out supernaturals live among them and, oh, dragons exist? It’s going to be dangerous for our kind.”
“Dragons should be feared, but ... ”
“What, boss?”
With a heavy heart, he admitted, “I understand humans fearing a monster they believe can burn them to ashes or eat them, but ... that one is another of my kind. I am furious the dragon causing destruction is pretending to be my Ruadh, but I do not wish to kill it. I would save it just as I did the stubborn one in my dungeon.”
“Ruadh? That’s your dragon’s name?” Tristan’s eyebrows shot up. “You’ve never mentioned it.”
“And I need you to not. I never speak his name to prevent some powerful being from using it to cast a spell or worse. But yes, that is his name.”
“No one will learn that name from me.”
Daegan would never doubt Tristan. His second-in-command would go to his death before he would betray Daegan.
Tristan spoke softly as he glanced around. “First, we have to keep you alive for you to save another dragon. That means we need our Beladors everywhere to be safe so they can support us.”
“True. Before any of that, we must free the ones the Imortiks hold captive before they drain our people. That is my top priority,” Daegan made clear.
Tristan frowned and turned the phone display back to look at then showed it to Daegan again. “You sure that red dragon is not another one like yours?”
Daegan watched the dragon burn a strip of land, then fly high again. He shook his head. “That is no fire dragon.”
Tristan lifted a shoulder. “Seems like fire to me, boss.”
“Yes, fire is burning the trees, but it does not come from inside the dragon.”
“How can you tell?”
“Because the flame shoots straight down as if sent in a pipe. If you recall the times you’ve seen my fire, mine spreads as it flows out, allowing for the most damage.”
“Ah. So what do you think is making the fake dragon’s fire?”
“I have no idea, but I intend to find out. Someone emulated my dragon in the same way right before Queen Maeve captured me and the Dragani War ignited, bringing death to my father’s door.” Daegan fisted his hands, angry that once again his people were under attack.
“No kidding, boss? Do you think this is the same person? Maybe Queen Maeve?”
“I do not know, but I will find out. I cannot expect warriors to fight for me unless they know I will fight for them.” But how could he save h
is people today when he couldn't even shift into his powerful dragon?
Ruadh’s deep voice spoke to him telepathically. We cannot hide and win a war.
I agree, my friend. But we must take care to not leave our people at an enemy’s mercy again. I miscalculated the danger once when I arrogantly entered TÅμr Medb to check on Lesley, thinking no one would dare attack me. I will not make that mistake twice and force you to endure a lifetime of being imprisoned again either.
With a huff of discontent, Ruadh silenced, willing to wait for Daegan to call him up.
That conversation made Daegan whisper, “We could be talking telepathically.”
Tristan explained, “Yeah, but speaking like this is more natural and allows us to blend in with humans. This will help us wherever we go to search for that book or ... the Luigsechs.”
“Good point, Tristan. With so much going on among the humans out here, I suggest we bypass the meal for the moment and find a quiet place we can talk to Adrianna.”
“Copy that, boss. You got a place in mind?”
“Yes.” Daegan wove his way through the still-excited humans then back to the hallway. While the humans were distracted, he should be able to use the chapel if Tristan’s phone would function there. The closer he came to that location, the fewer people meandered the halls. When any lingered, Tristan informed them everyone in the large hall were looking at a real-life dragon.
That sent them running.
Daegan slowed at the doorway to the chapel and stood to sweep a look over the room. “This is where my father told me Jennyver had come to pray for his recovery the last day I saw him. I had expected to see her at his bed when I returned from checking on my other sister, Lesley, who lived with Queen Maeve.”
“Whoa. What?” Tristan asked.
Looking over his shoulder, Daegan said, “I have much to tell you and the others about my family.”
“But the one with Maeve was not the sister whose body you were hunting for on Treoir?”
“No. Jennyver lived with Macha.” Daegan had not been happy when Tristan figured out that he’d been flying his red dragon across Treoir hunting Jennyver’s body the same day Adrianna had broken the curse over his dragon. That had been before he’d given Tristan his full trust. “I was actually hoping to find Jennyver’s dragon ring. But if she had been buried with it, I would have actually had to be walking close to her grave to have sensed the power in her ring.”