Royal Rescue

by A. Alex Logan

  “The sun isn’t up yet,” Omar pointed out.

  “No, but we all are. And I can see quite well in the dark. It’s a long flight to Mount Vidrian and we may as well get underway.”

  They packed quickly and soon everything was in place. The first streaks of pink were beginning to appear on the horizon when the dragon launched into the air. Gerald almost thought he might be getting used to it. The heart-pounding terror was still there, but the nausea wasn’t as evident.

  He and Omar shared a cold breakfast of fruit, jerky, and journey bread as they flew.

  “I hope this goes better than it did yesterday,” Gerald said.

  “It probably couldn’t go much worse,” Omar said with a grin.

  “Thanks. That’s really helpful.”

  “Any time,” Omar said cheerfully.

  Gerald gave him a dirty look but let the conversation die. It was too early and he was too tired, and there were more important things to think about. At least Erick’s letter gave me something to think about other than how much of an idiot I made of myself last night.

  “Hey, Dragon?” Gerald asked.

  “Yes?” it asked.

  “The tracking spell—can you tell if it was new? I mean, did Erick’s disabling spell simply wear off, or was it an entirely recast spell?”

  “I wasn’t looking for that,” the dragon admitted. “I can’t say for sure. Although…it does seem more likely it simply wore off. For it to be recast, whoever cast it would need to know where you were.”

  “Which they wouldn’t know without the tracking spell.”

  “Or they could have scryed,” Omar pointed out.

  “No,” the dragon said confidently. “Even with scrying, unless there is something linking the subject and the spell caster, the caster has to know where to look, at least in a general sense. One could scry the Yevin Desert looking for my tower, for instance. But if one didn’t know which desert the tower was in…” it trailed off and shrugged, and Gerald yelped and grabbed at the harness. It was a very disconcerting sensation to feel a shrug underneath you. “Oh, sorry,” it said. “You two are so light, I forget you’re there.”

  “Wait, does that mean the tracking spell is permanent?” Omar asked. “You can disable it, but not remove it?”

  “It’s trickier to remove spells you haven’t cast yourself,” the dragon explained. “But it’s not impossible. I don’t know how much time your cousin has to work on this, Gerald; I would suggest he first modify the disabler to ensure it won’t wear off. That will likely be much easier than removing the spell entirely.”

  “That’s what he’s planning, I think,” Gerald said, pulling out the parchment to check. “But I should reply anyway.”

  By the time he had scribbled a quick response to Erick—the wind and the uneven writing surface doing nothing to improve his handwriting—the sun was firmly above the horizon and the air was warming up.

  Omar shed his outer cloak and sighed with contentment. “You know, even with the creepy spells, and the killer squirrels, and everything else… I’m actually enjoying myself.”

  “I’m glad one of us is,” Gerald grumbled, but Omar shoved him playfully and a smile broke out over his face too. “All right, it is kind of exciting.”

  “I’m revising my opinion of humans increasingly upward,” the dragon added. “When we free the last of the guardians I might even like you two enough to make you honorary dragons.” It turned its head as it said that so they could see it wink.

  “Are honorary dragons a real thing?” Omar asked with interest. “My father gives out honorary knighthoods sometimes.”

  The dragon started to shrug again, and Gerald’s grip tightened reflexively on the harness before it caught itself. “It can be. We’re not as regimented as you humans. If I want to declare someone an honorary dragon, no one is going to stop me.”

  “Hmm. All right. Does it come with any perks?”

  “Well, it would keep you from getting eaten,” the dragon said, deadpan.

  Omar laughed. “That’s a perk, all right. Gerald, we better do a good job with this. I like the sound of being an honorary dragon. And we’ve established you’re pretty draconic already.”

  Gerald ducked his head, embarrassed to have last night’s scene mentioned again, no matter how obliquely. Omar noticed and the smile slid off his face. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “If you’re done talking about it, I won’t mention it again. I’m not making fun of you, though, you know that, right?”

  “I know. It’s okay. I guess I have a kind of knee-jerk reaction to certain things.” He shrugged self-consciously. “I know I shouldn’t be so sensitive about it, but…”

  “But?” Omar prompted.

  Gerald looked at his hands and occupied himself with wrapping them around the harness. “It’s going to sound melodramatic again,” he warned.

  “You’re not being melodramatic,” Omar said. “And if I didn’t want to know, I wouldn’t have asked.”

  “It, well, it makes me feel less than human. I already told you how I felt—feel—like an outsider in my family, how I don’t look like anyone else, and that makes me feel like I’m not really a part of it. But this… feeling like I do, or rather, not feeling like everyone else, it makes me feel like I’m not really a person. It makes me feel wrong and broken.” His voice dropped as he spoke until he was whispering the last words. He could feel his eyes starting to sting and he gripped the harness harder to distract himself and make himself focus. You are not going to start crying again! he snapped at himself. You’re supposed to be an adult, so act like one!

  “And comparing you to a dragon makes it seem like I think you’re less than human, too,” Omar finished. “Gerald, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that at all. Of course you’re human, you’re completely human.”

  “I know. I mean, I’m not a changeling or anything, I don’t think anything like that. But I don’t have the same feelings other people do.”

  “You don’t have one feeling most other people do,” Omar corrected. “It’s not like you don’t have feelings at all! It’s not even that you can’t like or even love people. You just don’t want to go to bed with them. Who cares about that?”

  Gerald looked up at Omar and raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious? Everyone cares about that. Ever since I turned, oh, thirteen or so, that’s all anyone has wanted to talk about. Do I like boys, do I like girls, isn’t so-and-so cute, have I kissed anyone, have I slept with anyone, do I want to sleep with anyone? Every conversation has a double meaning, everyone laughs at jokes I don’t understand, everyone is dying to find their True Love and have children, and I’m… I’m disconnected from all of that, from a huge part of society.”

  “But you can have relationships without sex,” Omar reminded him. “All right, yes, society does give more weight to relationships with sex. That’s why people talk about being ‘just’ friends, like being ‘friends’ is inferior. But you can have relationships that go deeper than friendship, that are partnerships, that are couples, without sex.”

  “Maybe you can,” Gerald said. “Maybe it’s possible. But a lot of things are possible. That doesn’t mean it’s ever going to happen. Other people want standard relationships, and those involve going to bed with your partner. I’m never going to want that, and that means I’m never going to have a relationship that goes beyond friendship. I’m never going to have a marriage that means anything to me.”

  “Not with that attitude, you’re not,” Omar said. “There are a lot of people in the world, Gerald. There are a lot of preferences. There have to be other people who feel like you. And even if there aren’t, if someone loves you, if you love them, you know, compromises can be made.”

  “I’m not going to bed with anyone,” Gerald said flatly. “That’s not negotiable. That’s not something I can compromise on.”

  “I’m not trying to make you!” Omar said. “I’m just saying, if you’ve already decided you’re never going to be happy, you’re not goi
ng to be looking for happiness. Keep an open mind, okay? The world might surprise you.”

  “I guess so.” Gerald looked out at the horizon and couldn’t contain a smile. “It’s been doing a pretty good job of surprising me recently.”

  “And besides,” the dragon added, mock sternness in its voice, “why on earth would you think being draconic means you’re less? I happen to think dragons are more.”

  Gerald laughed and patted its shoulder affectionately. “I think I agree with you.”

  The air grew increasingly chill as they headed both further north and to a higher altitude. By the time they stopped for a quick lunch, Omar had replaced his cloak and, although Gerald had never taken his off, both princes were shivering. The dragon wasn’t bothered by the cold any more than it had been by the desert’s heat, but Gerald’s fingers, nose, and ears had gone numb.

  “I don’t suppose you packed any winter gear?” Omar asked when they landed. “It would make a pretty poor impression if we showed up frostbitten.”

  “I think we’ll be able to manage something,” Gerald said, and he dug through the supplies until he found warmer, hooded cloaks, and some gloves.

  “What type of guardian do you think is up there?” Omar asked as they ate. “It’s going to be freezing on that mountain, isn’t it? So something adapted to the cold…a snow drake?”

  “It could be anything,” Gerald said. “We’re not going to fight it, so I don’t know if we need to be speculating. Whatever it is, we’re taking the collar off and leaving.”

  “I know. I just thought it might be nice to be prepared.”

  “As long as it doesn’t burst out of the ground, I think I’m prepared for anything,” Gerald said. “I’m more worried about the prince.”

  “Ah. Right. Who’s this one?”

  Gerald dug out his copy of Who’s Who, the pages looking decidedly ragged around the edges after the treatment they’d received in his knapsack. “Uh… Prince Thierry of Makandia. Eldest son and heir. No siblings.”

  “Never been there,” Omar said.

  That was no surprise. “Me neither. He’s a long way from home.”

  “I don’t know much about Makandia. I’m not even sure I could name the current monarch, let alone local custom. Let’s just hope, if nothing else, that he’s not as shrill as Princess Elinore.”

  “You know, when someone’s yelling at me, I tend to be more concerned with the fact that they’re yelling and less concerned with the pitch of their voice as they do so.”

  Omar shrugged. “It’s easier to ignore when it doesn’t feel like your eardrums are going to rupture.”

  “Right, well, regardless. Do you think we should show up and free the guardian and not even try to explain ourselves? That would at least prevent being laughed at.”

  Omar shrugged again. “It’s your quest. I’m following your lead.”

  Gerald sighed. “I wonder if the dragon knows any invisibility spells.”

  The dragon had shed the supplies along with the princes and then disappeared to rustle up its own midday meal. But Gerald had a feeling that if the dragon could enable them to slip in and out unnoticed, it would have suggested it beforehand. Particularly after the scene with Princess Elinore.

  Omar laughed. “What fun would that be?”

  Gerald stuck his tongue out to make Omar laugh again but didn’t otherwise respond.

  The dragon soon returned looking full and self-satisfied, and Omar and Gerald hurriedly finished their own lunches and packed everything away. It was only an hour’s flight from there to the base of Mount Vidrian, and they were glad of the warmer clothes by the time they got there.

  “Is that snow?” Omar asked in amazement.

  “Hmm…white, cold, flakey…yes, I do believe it’s snow,” Gerald said.

  Omar gave him a light shove. “Shut up. How much snow do you think we get in Yevin? The whole kingdom’s hot, even outside of the desert.”

  “Think of snow as basically cold sand,” Gerald suggested. “They’re both made up of lots of individual pieces and are about as easy to walk on.”

  “I can think of it as snow, goose,” Omar said. “I know what it is, I’ve just never seen it before. Hey, Dragon, can we land for a minute?”

  “No!” Gerald said, knowing landing meant they would need to take off again. I can’t deal with an extra take off. Only as many as strictly necessary, please! “Anyway, I’m sure there will be snow at the top of the mountain too. More of it, probably.”

  “I agree with Gerald,” the dragon said. “It makes more sense to fly you two up to the tower directly. And he’s quite right about the snow. Are you two warm enough?” it asked as an afterthought. “I’ve noticed humans seem to be comfortable only in a quite small range of temperatures.”

  “Another of our design flaws,” Gerald agreed good-naturedly. “I’m all right, though. Sitting on your back is like sitting on a heater.”

  “I’m fine, too,” Omar added. “I’m glad for the gloves, though.”

  “Onward and upward, then,” the dragon said. “It’ll only be a few more minutes now.”

  All thoughts of trying to get in and out without attracting Prince Thierry’s notice went straight out of Gerald’s mind when they came within sight of the tower. There was someone else on the ground outside of it—someone fighting the guardian.

  Chapter Ten

  “STOP! STOP!” GERALD called frantically as the dragon braked and dropped to the ground in a much tighter, faster spiral than usual. “Don’t hurt it!”

  The would-be rescuer’s attention was drawn away from the fight by the sudden appearance of a dragon landing scant yards away. Gerald hurriedly undid his harness and dropped into the snow with Omar hard on his heels. The guardian’s own attention had wavered when they landed and it now froze and watched them.

  Not a snow drake, Gerald noted absently. It was, in fact, an amarok, a giant, white-furred wolf. Gerald saw with a stab of anger that its creamy fur was stained red in several places. Its lips were pulled back to reveal black gums and sharp teeth as it growled, but it made no move to attack its opponent despite that individual’s distraction. The damn collar again. It can only defend itself. And clearly, that’s not working too well for it right now.

  The rescuer was clad in armor, with thick quilted padding underneath. The amarok hadn’t been able to do nearly as much damage to the rescuer as they had done to the unprotected wolf, although how much of that was due to the rescuer’s protection and how much to the collar’s restrictions Gerald wasn’t sure.

  “Stop!” Gerald said again. “Leave it alone.”

  The rescuer backed away from the amarok, prudently opening up some space between them even knowing it wouldn’t be able to attack until they chose to start the fight up again. Then they turned to face the interlopers, taking off their helm as they did so.

  “Get out of here!” they snapped, their green eyes flashing angrily. “Thierry and I have an understanding. He’s not available, do you hear? I’m rescuing him and I’m not letting you get in the way!”

  Gerald held up his hands placatingly and gestured broadly to indicate his weaponless state. “We’re not here for Prince Thierry, or to fight you. Go ahead and rescue him, I don’t care. But don’t hurt the guardian.”

  The rescuer goggled at him. “Are you daft? I have to beat the guardian to get to Thierry.”

  “Only because it’s been enslaved,” Gerald retorted. “I can undo the spells on its collar. You won’t have to fight it. You can rescue your prince, and everyone can leave without any further bloodshed.”

  “That’s not how it works,” the rescuer snapped. “Who the hell are you, anyway? Where did you come from?”

  “I’m Gerald,” Gerald said. “This is Omar. And that’s Dragon.”

  “Prince Gerald,” Omar added. “Prince Omar.”

  “And Prince Dragon?” the rescuer asked sourly.

  “Dragons don’t hold with royalty,” the dragon replied haughtily.

&
nbsp; The rescuer’s eyes widened when the dragon spoke. For the first time, they began to look a little unsure of the situation.

  Gerald sighed and tried again. “The dragon was my guardian until I took the collar off. The collar is what keeps them mute and keeps them guarding us, and makes them fight us, too. Let us take the collar off the amarok and you can rescue Thierry without anyone interfering or getting hurt.”

  “Says you,” the rescuer snapped. “Taking the collar off would count as defeating the guardian, wouldn’t it? And you’re not taking Thierry.”

  “I don’t want to take Thierry!” Gerald snapped back. “Neither does Omar. Neither of us cares about Thierry or about you—who are you, anyway?” he asked.

  “Princex Taylor,” they replied.

  “Princess?” Omar asked.

  “Princex,” they repeated, emphasizing the suffix.

  “Right, okay,” Gerald interrupted. “Princex Taylor, I can assure you neither Prince Omar nor I have any interest in interfering with your rescue of Prince Thierry. I swear on my blood as a royal. But look at the guardian! Just look. It’s bleeding. It has infected wounds around the collar. Look, you can see where it’s lost fur, where the collar has rubbed it away. Does that look right to you? Do you really want to hurt it more? There’s no need for further violence.”

  Taylor looked at their sword when Gerald said the word violence and Gerald did not like the gleam that came into their eyes. “You will not interfere,” they repeated, brandishing the sword at Gerald. He stepped back instinctively, flinching, and Taylor smiled with satisfaction.

  They put their helm back on and turned to face the amarok again. The wolf had stayed still and silent throughout their conversation, but now it growled and raised its hackles.

  “Don’t!” Gerald cried. He took half a step forward, but didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to disarm Taylor without a weapon of his own—and then Omar strode over, unsheathed one of his knives, reversed his grip, and brought the hilt of it down on the back of Taylor’s helm.