by N M Zoltack
“If I’m right, and a dragon dying gave me this… I don’t know that I can fight against them. They gave me this… gift… whatever it is.”
“What do you think it is?” Ulric asked.
“Magic,” Gidie murmured. “Why me? I’ll admit it. I can be a knave at time. I have a temper, and I’m not the best at following directions. My pa used to beat me as a child, and I can’t exactly say that it wasn’t what I deserved. I’m not a good person. I know I’m not.”
“You joined the militia,” Ulric said.
“Yeah, because I wanted to be known as a good person, but I’m not, am I? I wanted to be a hero, but… I don’t know. Fighting the dragons seems wrong to me.”
“They killed a lot of people,” Ulric said firmly. “They attacked us.”
“I know, but… I can’t do it.”
“Do you think they should stop?” Ulric asked, nodding to those with the spear.
“None of them… They can do what they want, but…”
“You aren’t going to turn on them if the dragons return and they fight the dragons.”
“No! I’m not a good person, but I’m not evil!”
“You’re still one of us,” Ulric said.
Gidie grimaced and shook his head. “You don’t even like me. I know you don’t. That’s fine. Not many people like me. I know that. I just… I don’t know. I feel strongly about certain things, and when others disagree, I can be a bit…”
“Argumentative.”
Gidie looked at Ulric dumbly.
“You have a temper.”
“Yeah, I said that already.” He rolled his eyes.
Ulric chuckled. Yes, Gidie was a bit hotheaded at times, but right now, he actually seemed a bit mature and responsible even.
“I’m proud of you,” Ulric said softly. “Aloys, stop yapping and get to throwing!”
Gidie burst out laughing. “Aloys couldn’t hit that tree if that tree was right in front of him,” he taunted.
“A mug of ale says I can!” Aloys called.
“You’re on!”
Aloys threw and hit a leaf.
“A leaf!” Gidie clutched his belly. “The leaf ain’t the tree! You had to hit the trunk!”
“The leaf is a part of the tree!” Aloys argued.
“Fine. You hit another leaf and I’ll buy you two mugs. You don’t hit a leaf, and you owe me two mugs.”
Aloys burst out laughing, retrieved his spear, meandered back to where he had been standing, threw the weapon, and hit a leaf on the ground not two steps from where he stood.
“No!” Gidie shouted. “You knew I meant another leaf on the tree!”
Aloys shook his head and shrugged. “Should’ve been a bit more clear about the terms!”
Gidie marched up to him, and Ulric let them settle the matter themselves.
Once he had enough practice time with the lot, he disbanded Forbidden Doom and headed inside the keep. When he asked about the queen, he was directed to her bedchambers. Fearing she was feeling unwell, he rushed there and debated knocking on the door when the door opened.
“Ulric,” she said, her dark eyes wide with surprise. “It is good to see you.”
A flush went throughout his body. “You do not look sick.”
“No. I… I wore a new dress today,” she admitted. “It was a bit uncomfortable and did not fit me properly, so I changed into this. Do you think I was ill so you came to see me?”
“Yes,” he admitted, “but I think we might talk about another matter.”
Rosalynne nodded and glanced over her shoulder. “Amee, if you would give us the room?”
A maid moved to stand behind the queen. “Ah… My Queen…”
The queen smiled then, although it seemed a bit false to Ulric. “Very well. Ulric, advisor of mine, let us go to one of the council rooms.”
She linked her arm with Ulric’s and walked them away, leaving the maid behind.
The maid who did not think it proper for Ulric to be in the queen’s bedchambers alone with her.
“She thought… I would never do anything untoward to you!”
“Ulric, it isn’t just you,” Rosalynne murmured.
Ulric was silenced at that. He did not like the idea of Rosalynne having other men in her bedchambers even if only to talk as would have been the case with himself. Not that he had any claim to her.
“Advisor?” he murmured as Rosalynne guided him into a tea room.
“You advise me, don’t you? I haven’t had a formal council meeting with my council yet, but you are on it. If I have to order you to accept that position—”
“I accept,” he said, his head swimming.
“Good.” She beamed at him and shut the door. “No prying eyes, no wagging tongues.”
Rosalynne gestured for him to sit at the table. He did, and she sat across from him.
“I had an interesting meeting yesterday with Sabine’s council. Her former council. I need to expand mine, I know, and I thought I would see what they know, their opinions on certain matters… Unfortunately, no one could locate Wystan Bartone, the man she had put in charge of the peasants. I do wonder what he is up to.”
“I can’t say,” Ulric muttered, “but I do have to mention something to you.”
Rosalynne smiled at him, waiting for him to go on, and he had to take a moment to realize that the queen was listening to him raptly. Him! Ulric, who had once been a simple servant! Now an advisor to the queen!
Not to any queen. To Rosalynne Rivera.
“Gidie Leroux, one of the members of my militia… a curious thing has happened to him. When the dragon exploded into that light… one of the bits struck him.”
“I wondered if anyone had been hit by it,” she murmured. “Has he fallen ill?”
“No, actually. Quite the opposite. He seems to have magic.”
“Magic?” Rosalynne touched her neck.
Ulric nodded. “I was having the men and women practice to use spears. Gidie wasn’t paying attention, and he threw it such that it would have hit another militia member, but he held out his hand. His hand started to glow, and he stopped the spear. It fell to the ground. It was not natural, Rosalynne. It should have speared that man through and through. Should’ve killed him, but Gidie used magic to stop the spear. I witnessed it myself.”
“That is remarkable. You think others might have been touched by the light?” she murmured.
“I would think, yes, most likely. Gidie himself thinks it is magic, that the dragons chose him.”
“Perhaps they did. Ulric.” Rosalynne reached a hand out toward him. “I wish to put you in charge of learning who all has magic, at least of those in Atlan and the nearby countryside.”
“Am I to bring them to you?” he asked.
“A list of their names would be sufficient.”
Ulric paused and then shook his head. As much as he did not wish to disappoint her, this task was not one for him.
“Please reconsider,” he said. “Send someone else instead. I—”
“I trust you, Ulric,” she said softly.
Anger laced through him, and he stood. He hadn’t taken her hand earlier, which was just as well because he did not wish to touch her. “You trust me? You trust but not enough to keep you safe.”
“Ulric!” She rose to her feet and hurried around the table to his side, but her shock at his anger, her lack of understanding only served to frustrate him all the more, to increase his wrath, and he stormed out of the room before she could say more.
60
Olympia Li
The morning came, and Olympia spent most of it hunting with the children until they somehow came across three horses. What luck! The older two children knew how to ride, and Mochan was willing to ride with Olympia, so she guided them to the edge of Atlan.
“Won’t you come with us to visit my aunt?” Luigsech asked. “She might have some coins or at least can offer you a warm meal.”
“No. Do you think you can find her yourselves
?” Olympia asked.
The girl nodded. “But…”
“Go to your family,” Olympia urged.
She embraced the children, all three of them, and then she rode off. Atlan was not for her.
Her tending to the children now accomplished, Olympia’s thoughts turned once more to the dragons, and although she could not say why she did not return to the south, to where Bjorn would come for her, she rode around the city and headed ever northward. Her thoughts turned constantly to the dragons. Why had they attacked the castle? Not everyone inside deserved to die. The dragons should not be harming innocents, yet she was certain many had died since the dragons had returned. Could even the dragons fall victim to emotions? Weren’t the dragons supposed to rise above all of that? That was why the dragons three had lorded over the humans, why they had given the humans the Fates. Humans were susceptible to darkness, to cruelty, hatred, despair, to rage and violence. The dragons used wraiths to help guide people back to the light.
But maybe this world had no light to offer anymore. Perhaps the sun did not shine as brightly as it once had.
On and on, the horse galloped, and Olympia thought about turning toward the east so that she might eventually see the Vast Waters once more, but something kept her heading northward until eventually all that was before her was a swamp.
A swamp with armored women standing in front of its entrance, almost as if they were guarding something.
Or someone.
“How are you?” Olympia called.
The women said nothing at all.
“I know who you are,” Olympia said. When none of the women reacted, she uttered, “You’re the Valkyries. You are the dragons’ own warriors. Aren’t you?”
“You should not concern yourself with the likes of us,” one uttered.
But Olympia did not need for them to confirm her suspicion. Even if they were not Valkyries, they remained tethered to the dragons regardless.
“You are henceforth banished from this place,” the woman continued.
“Until I am deemed worthy,” Olympia said coolly.
The woman was stoic, her face a mask that almost entirely concealed her shock at Olympia’s words, but the Li princess did not need a verbal response. She nodded to the women, turned her horse about, and headed south.
Still, she longed to see a dragon, but perhaps she should wait and hope for one to come to her… and for the dragon to come on a full belly so that he might not eat her.
61
Bjorn Ivano
The Li queen had given birth to not one babe but two. Of course she did. Maybe Olympia had another sibling she did not know about, and she was one of triplets.
He had no name. All he had was the image of Olympia in his mind, and somehow, from that alone, he was to locate her brother. That would be so very simple, yes? No, not at all. The brother might not be here in Atlan, might not be in the castle. He might not even be on Tenoch at all!
But Olympia was counting on him, and honestly, this was far safer than some kind of plot to get her on the throne.
Although that did remain their long-term goal. Yes, theirs. He sought that too. From spending so much time with Olympia, he knew that she was precisely the kind of person they needed on the throne for Tenoch. Tenoch Proper? That he did not know, and that was not his main concern. She sought her parents’ throne, and they had been merely the rulers of Tenoch. If the way to end the one war was to allow the Vincanans their continent onto themselves, so be it, although it might not be easy to make them satisfied with just the southern continent anymore.
Hmm. If Olympia was right, and her brother lived in the castle or somewhere in Atlan at least, then he might have an idea for how to reclaim the crown.
But only if he knew who he was. If he did not… Well, in any case, Bjorn did not plan on telling the man who his parents were. He would merely find some avenue to convince him—willingly or not—to come with him back to Olympia.
That settled, Bjorn continued onto Atlan. He still thought himself a right knave for having agreed to this. His sabotage will not work for long, and the Vincanans might move against the castle than anticipated. Bjorn might very well be caught inside the castle when the attack came, and that could make things very difficult for him indeed.
Still, he would not be deterred from his present course. That Olympia told him her most guarded secret, even more so than her own parentage, meant that she did trust him despite his failings and shortcomings and his dark past.
She had not even, verbally at least, acted as if he had been unspeakably cruel to the townsfolk. Merely setting the horses loose alone would not have been enough. If only the Vincanans had had their own water supply away from the villagers the entire time! But even though he had poisoned them a second time, he assumed they would discover the contamination quickly and not be all that bothered by it.
Within the heart of the Bjorn, he hated the war. He hated it most of all because he was not fighting either side of it. Being a scout as he had been, studying the enemy, the bit with the sabotage, then he had felt alive once more. He was a warrior, not a guard, and he struggled to tell himself this was necessary. All that mattered was what the princess asked of him.
Should he start to call her that? Princess? Obviously only when they were alone, but they were more times than not. Most likely, she would not prefer for him to call her that, he figured. She would think it a jest, but it wouldn’t be. Olympia might not realize yet how much he would do for her, but he knew, and he supposed that was enough for now. After all, this mission of his to find her brother might cost him his life. Rosalynne might be willing to kill him if he returned. The queen had no reason to trust him, and he could not blame her if she thought to have him executed for his crimes.
After all, he had sided with a third party, one Rosalynne would surely oppose.
Once Bjorn entered Atlan, he immediately headed for the marketplace. The area had once been a thriving enterprise, but now, it had been rendered a place of ruin, burned nearly to the ground. By the dragons or some other force? He could not be certain, but it was a tragic site to see, and when he approached the spot where he had slain the man, Bjorn lowered onto one knee and bent his head, praying to the Fates of both Life and Death to be kind to the man’s soul and to his family, if they lived yet.
From there, Bjorn continued onward. The marketplace and even the nearby shops and stores were mostly abandoned, and the isolation weighed on Bjorn like an oppressive cloud. What had happened to this space? Was it merely the effects of war? Did Rosalynne know what had become of the rest of the city? Or had she not left the safety of her castle?
Relative safety, he amended as the castle came into view. Some of the towers were in the process of being rebuilt, a part of the castle wall, too, although the castle wall had clearly been a focal point as that was nearly completed.
Bjorn pulled down his hood until it nearly covered as much of his face as Olympia had teased him about what felt like a lifetime ago. It was funny how the last few days had felt as if they would never end, but he had a feeling that time would speed up soon, leaving him behind in the dust and perhaps buried six feet under.
The guards did not stop him as he approached the keep. Bjorn merely could walk inside. The castle, it seemed, was open to any citizen who wished to find safety here, but what security was to be had at a spot where the dragons had attacked not once but twice?
A stout guard was explaining to the family who came inside the castle before Bjorn that the commoners were mostly on the uppermost floors, which Bjorn thought made sense. The servants lived in the attics of castles. It did, however, mean that the servants and the commoners would be in danger first should the dragons attack again.
However, if the Li prince was within the castle, he most likely would have been raised as a commoner, yes? That made as perfect a place as any to go and seek him out, so Bjorn trailed behind the family, climbing the winding, narrow, uneven stairs all the way to the uppermost portion of the castle
.
The sheer number of persons crowded up here was ridiculous to the point of absurdity. How would Bjorn find anyone within this mess?
Fate of Peace, Fate of Life, please guide me. Help me find the Li prince. Allow me to play my part in ending the war. Both wars. If that is your will.
62
Alchemist Tatum Hill
The days were growing longer and wearier for the alchemist. Each morning, she felt as if climbing out of her bed was more and more difficult, and it was not because of the pregnancy. Every part of her body felt bone-weary and fatigued, as if she had poured too much of herself into her projects. Still, she continued to make healing potion after healing potion and also potions to help the knights for whenever the next battle might be. Her hands and palms were becoming callused from grinding herbs, and they had even started to crack and bleed. Isabel Faure, the healer with magical abilities, had used her magic to heal Tatum’s hands, but when she asked Tatum if she wished for more, Tatum had declined. The woman did not appear to understand why Tatum did not wish to be wholly cured, and even Tatum could not say why she refused. It felt almost wrong to, however. What if the woman’s magic only lasted for a short while? What if it could be all used up? She would rather Isabel use her magic to help those who needed far more than Tatum did.
This morning, Tatum woke from a dream in which Dudley came back to her, and he had been as he had been before they wed, before he even dreamed up his inn, when he had been utterly devoted to her, and she had been so very happy once more.
When she reflected on the dream as she washed her face, she finally realized why she refused to allow Isabel to help her all the more. She did not know if the magic could take away emotional pain as well, and Tatum clung to her grief, to her sorrow, to her guilt.
Once she forced herself to eat some food, believing it necessary for the babe even if she herself was not hungry, she returned to making potions. The page had taken it upon himself to fetch whatever she needed for her, staying outside her door all hours of the day.