Royal Rescue

by A. Alex Logan

  He was relieved when the tower came into view and gave him something to think about other than his physical and Mikkel’s mental discomfort.

  “Let’s do this the same way as at Padma’s tower,” Omar said as the dragon began to glide in for a landing. “Everyone stay in your harness, be ready for a quick takeoff. I’ll get the guardian’s collar off, the dragon will grab the royal, and we’ll be underway.”

  “Surely we can get down for a minute,” Padma said, raising her eyebrows significantly.

  “It’s really better to stay on the dragon’s back,” Omar said. “If the Council is watching the tower—”

  “Just for a minute,” Padma insisted.

  “I really don’t—”

  “She needs to relieve herself, idiot!” Natali snapped, causing both Padma and Omar to turn red with embarrassment.

  “Oh. Oh! Well. Yes. Fine. Just don’t, um, dawdle.”

  The three of them spent the next few minutes very pointedly not looking at each other while the dragon spiraled down for a landing on another unnatural-looking rock formation. At least these are easy to get to. Canyons and mountains and all that—we can fly right in. No forests, no swamps, no murderous squirrels… It hardly seems like a challenge at all. Gerald smiled wryly to himself, well aware of how difficult it would be to get out to the middle of the rocky plain—let alone to the top of the spire of stone where the tower rose stark against the sky—on foot or horseback instead of via dragon.

  The dragon touched down delicately and a head immediately popped out of the tower window. “Wow! A whole rescue committee?”

  “More or less,” Omar called up. He was already undoing his harness. “Whoever’s getting down, get down, but get back on the dragon sooner rather than later,” he instructed. He raised an eyebrow at Gerald—are you getting down? Do you need a hand?—and Gerald shook his head.

  The girls joined Omar on the ground. Mikkel stayed with Gerald on the dragon’s back. Gerald couldn’t help but notice Mikkel relaxed as the others moved away. He gave the silent prince a friendly smile and then turned his attention outward.

  The princesses had vanished from sight, and Omar was standing at the base of the tower, his head tilted upward as he conversed with the tower royal. There was no sign of the guardian—or of any Council interference.

  “Dragon?” Gerald said quietly.

  It turned its head to regard him.

  “They can scry a fixed point, right? Would you be able to tell if they were watching us?”

  “No,” the dragon admitted. “Scrying is a very passive spell. I can only sense active casting.”

  “Is there a way—can you hide us from scrying?”

  “Ye-e-es,” the dragon said slowly. “To a degree. I can ‘fog’ us, so to speak. Anyone scrying the tower will only see gray. But that will also reveal our presence.”

  “It will reveal a presence,” Gerald corrected. “It will hide our identities. And it will keep them from watching us undo the collar spells.”

  “But why—oh. If they discover the weak points, they can modify them. Yes. I see.” It narrowed its eyes in concentration, made a complicated series of gestures with its foreclaws, and then hissed a sibilant word in the dragon tongue. “There,” it said. “We are shrouded.”

  Just as it spoke, a shriek split the air.

  “Padma!” Natali cried.

  Omar dashed around the side of the tower, his knives materializing in his hands, and the dragon lunged after him, jolting Gerald and Mikkel.

  Padma, her initial shriek of panic transmuted into shouts of anger, was dangling from the claws of a huge, glossy-feathered bird, while Natali lay on her side, half-obscured by the dust cloud stirred up by the bird’s massive wings.

  “Release her!” the dragon commanded. “She is not a rescuer, nor has she challenged you. You have no leeway to touch her.”

  The bird opened its beak and croaked a response.

  The dragon blinked. “Its collar is damaged. The restrictions against harm do not hold.”

  Omar, his knives still bared, flicked his gaze toward the dragon from where he was crouched defensively over Natali. “Do something, then!”

  “I don’t think it wants to hurt her,” the dragon said hurriedly. “But it can.”

  “Well, I don’t want to hurt it, either, but I will!” Omar snapped. “If it hurts Padma, I’m not taking its collar off.”

  The roc cocked its head and fixed Omar with one of its glittering eyes. It croaked again and the dragon hissed in response, and then it opened its claws and dropped Padma to the ground. She stumbled and fell to her knees but got up quickly and ran for the relative safety of Omar’s knives. The roc dropped to the ground after her and folded its wings.

  “It wants the collar off,” the dragon supplied.

  “Yes, well, how do I know it’s not going to take my head off when I try?” Omar muttered. “Padma, are you all right?”

  “Bruised. But I’ll live. Natali?” She reached out a hand and helped the other princess to her feet.

  The roc croaked again.

  “It has chicks,” the dragon said.

  At that, Omar started shaking his head. “No. No. So I take its collar off, and it’s going to take me to feed its chicks. This is too dangerous.”

  “I’m not going to let it take you anywhere,” the dragon said. “And it didn’t have all the facts before. It doesn’t want to hurt you. Besides, rocs don’t really eat people, that’s all a myth. It wouldn’t feed you to its chicks. You’re entirely wrong for them, nutritionally speaking.”

  “That…probably shouldn’t be as reassuring as it is,” Omar said. He shifted his grip on his knives and then sighed and sheathed them. “Fine. You two, get back on the dragon. Just in case.”

  Padma and Natali didn’t need to be told twice. They were clambering up the dragon’s side in moments, and although they were both dusty, Gerald noted neither one looked to have any injuries beyond a few scrapes and bruises. Mikkel pulled his hood over his head and looked away as he hunched his shoulders again. Gerald once again was torn between wanting to say something to him and not knowing what to say. He turned away and watched anxiously as Omar approached the roc.

  Omar was moving very cautiously, but he could only be cautious for so long. He had to get right up next to the roc to work on its collar, well within the range of its sharp claws and serrated beak.

  “You’re sure it’s not going to hurt me?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the roc.

  “Completely,” the dragon replied. “Go ahead.”

  With a last moment of hesitation, Omar stepped within its reach. The roc didn’t move as he took another step, and then another, and then he took out the chisel and went to work. The roc stayed as still as if it were carved out of rock, but the atmosphere was tense. The dragon had settled into a relaxed posture and was watching the proceedings with an air of extreme unconcern, but Gerald was focused intently on the roc, waiting for something to go wrong.

  When Omar carved the final symbol into the collar, he backed away without shattering it. It wasn’t until he was closer to the dragon than to the roc that he looked at it and said, “You can break it off now. The spells are dead.”

  The bird exploded into motion, moving far faster than anything of its bulk had any right to, and within seconds it was in the sky, the collar a pile of rusted scraps on the ground. Omar let out a shaky breath and sagged against the dragon.

  “Just one more,” he said, half to himself.

  “Omar? You’re all right?” Gerald asked hesitantly.

  He looked up and found a smile. “I’m all right. Let’s get the royal and get going.”

  He climbed up the dragon’s side and clipped himself back into the harness. It took him two tries; his hands were shaking. Gerald took one of his hands in his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Omar smiled at him and squeezed back.

  The dragon carried them all around the tower, where the royal—Robin, Gerald remembered—was still hangin
g out the window. “What happened?” they yelled. “I heard a scream and I couldn’t see anything!”

  “Your roc tried to snatch me,” Padma said.

  “Now we’re snatching you,” Natali added.

  “That’s really not how I would phrase it—” Gerald said hastily, but he was cut off when the dragon reared up and plucked the royal out of the tower. “Oh, well. It’s like this…”

  Chapter Twenty

  GERALD’S TWO-WAY parchment finally chimed as they approached their final assigned tower. The cliffs and canyons had flattened out some way back and the landscape had slowly transformed into a desert like the one Gerald had been stashed in. They had put up the canvas covers to shade them from the sun, and the dragon’s flight generated a constant breeze, but even so, the heat frayed at some tempers. The dragon had snapped at Natali twice to just be quiet, please! while Mikkel hunched further and further into his hood every time the acerbic princess spoke.

  Gerald welcomed the distraction of the incoming message and he hurriedly shuffled through his pack to find a bottle of ink. Padma and Robin looked up when the chiming started, but the oppressive heat dampened their interest and Mikkel and Natali didn’t react at all. Gerald dripped ink on the parchment and Omar peered over his shoulder to read the words as they appeared.

  Get to your towers as quickly as you can and get back here as quickly as you can. The Council is starting to act. Nedi got tagged with a tracker at her last tower. They know where we’re gathering. They’re setting up on the outskirts. They haven’t done anything yet, and they can’t pass the borders. But they can stop the rest of us from passing, too. Get here FAST and SAFE.

  Erick

  Gerald swallowed. “You know it’s serious when he’s not calling me Meathead,” he said to Omar. Then he read the message aloud for the dragon, who flicked its tail in irritation.

  “They’re not keeping me out of my own home,” it said. “I can handle the Council.”

  “We have to get back there first.”

  The dragon scoffed and kept flying.

  “EVERYONE STAY ON the dragon this time, please,” Omar said as it began to circle the final tower. “At least until the guardian is gone.”

  But for once everything went smoothly. The guardian—a lovely chestnut Pegasus—was docile and easily divested of its collar. The royal, a bespectacled prince named Dion, was fascinated by the dragon and asked if he could join them before even hearing who they were or where they were traveling. “This will make a wonderful study,” he kept repeating.

  Less than an hour after landing, they were back in the air. The dragon flew past dusk and into full dark, and likely would have kept flying long into the night if its passengers hadn’t begun to object. By the time it landed, Gerald’s hip was aching fiercely, and his bad leg would barely take his weight, no matter how heavily he leaned on his canes. There was no lake to soak in, either.

  “I think this is the first time you haven’t landed by water,” Gerald commented to the dragon while the others set up tents.

  “There is enough water in the supplies,” it said. “I’m going hunting.”

  It took off without waiting for a response and Gerald stared after it in surprise. I guess Erick’s message has it more worried than it let on.

  Mikkel had vanished into his tent as soon as it was standing, and no one else was acting particularly sociable either. The tents went up one by one and the royals quickly disappeared into them. Robin into one, Dion into another, and the princesses together into a third—all three set somewhat away from Mikkel’s.

  Gerald stayed where he was, leaning against the supplies until Omar came over and sat next to him.

  “How’s your leg?”

  “Better than yesterday, but still not great,” he admitted. The soreness and cramping had eased up, but the scrapes and bruises from his falls ached and his knee was swollen.

  “Good enough to make dinner?”

  Omar accompanied the question with such a pleading look that Gerald laughed. “I can make dinner. That might drag everyone out of their tents, too.”

  Omar widened his eyes in surprise. “You want them out of their tents?”

  “Well… I mean, it’s one thing for me to not really be all that social. I’d be happy to go into our tent and stay there, away from everyone. But when no one is being social, I don’t know, it’s different for all of us to be hiding than for there to be a group of people that I’m hiding from.” He shrugged self-consciously. “I don’t know, it makes more sense in my head.”

  “No, it’s okay. I kind of get what you mean.”

  “It doesn’t really matter anyway. Can you get a fire started? I’ll find something to cook.”

  Omar tilted his head to scrutinize him, but then said, “Okay,” and walked away. Gerald watched him go. He wished he knew what the right things to say were. I couldn’t talk to Mikkel. Now I can’t talk to Omar. I don’t even know what I want to say, but I know I want to say something.

  He shook his head and started looking through the supplies.

  THE SMELL OF roasting vegetables and steeping tea slowly but surely drew the royals out of their tents, all but Mikkel. Gerald had to admit he hadn’t been expecting the black-clad prince to join them. He put a tray together and Omar carried it over to Mikkel’s tent without needing to be asked. That’s the one problem with tents, Gerald thought as Omar set the tray on the ground outside it. There’s no way to knock.

  But the next time he glanced over at the lone tent, the tray was gone.

  He smiled.

  The hot food and drinks had the others smiling as well. By the time the dragon returned from its hunt—and settled down to fastidiously clean its claws and teeth—the tension had broken and there was laughter and chatter flying around the fire. This is the type of scene I don’t mind leaving, Gerald thought, and as if Omar were reading his mind, he caught Gerald’s eye at that exact moment and glanced toward the tent, then back at Gerald, as he raised an eyebrow. Gerald nodded and raised an eyebrow in return, and Omar nodded back and held up a finger. Just a minute—he had to extricate himself from a conversation with Robin. No one was talking to Gerald; he levered himself up and started making his way toward the tent Omar had set up earlier. Natali watched him get up and limp away and he tensed, half expecting another comment. But none came and before too long he was far enough away that none would. It had grown dark enough that no one could see him once he left the circle of light cast by the fire.

  The dragon had sent a mage light after him as he passed by, and under its light, he dashed off a quick note to Erick: we’re on our way back with everyone, has the Council done anything, keep us posted. He was just finishing when Omar ducked into the tent.

  “I think I understand what you meant before,” he said as he sat and started taking off his boots. “It’s normal for you to stay in the tent, but it’s not normal for them to do it. That out there, that’s their normal. You didn’t feel right leaving them in their tents because that’s not right for them.”

  Gerald nodded. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I was trying to say.” Something about the way Omar had phrased it made him think, though. It was his normal to avoid groups and gatherings, but he wasn’t sure he liked other people pointing it out to him. He picked up his note to Erick as a way to change the subject and Omar smirked when he saw how little Gerald had written.

  “How much do you want to bet we wake up with a ten-page missive from Nedi about every detail of the Council operation and a minute-by-minute plan to sneak us back over the border?”

  “I don’t take bets I’m going to lose,” Gerald replied. “But I think I’ll let the dragon handle getting us over the border. It’s what we do after that we’ll need Nedi to plan out.”

  Omar gave him a questioning look. “It’s not like they’re going to sit there quietly and let us get on with things,” Gerald said. “They don’t even know what we’re doing! But I’m not going to worry about it now. Out loud, anyway,” he added when
Omar started to open his mouth. “We’re still a few days away unless we start flying through the night, and I’m too tired to think about it.”

  Omar smothered a yawn. “You’re tired? I’m the one who was running around dealing with guardians all day,” he teased. “You just sat there on the dragon and relaxed.”

  “Pretty sure I was forbidden to get off the dragon,” Gerald retorted. “By you.”

  Omar closed his eyes and pretended not to hear.

  PANTING AND MOANING from the neighboring tent woke Gerald up again and he buried his head in the blankets, wishing he slept a little more deeply.

  He could still hear them, even with the blankets pressed against his ears. Now he was aware of the noise, it was all he could hear. He turned over and muttered a curse under his breath.

  “Gerald?” Omar whispered. “Are you awake?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  “Can I… Do you mind if I ask a question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Does it bother you? What they’re doing?”

  Gerald hesitated. “Not exactly. I mean, I wish I didn’t have to listen to them. It… It embarrasses me, I suppose. It’s such a private thing, and I can hear them, and it’s like I’m invading their privacy. But bedding itself… People like it, and I know that, and I don’t care that they like it. It doesn’t bother me what other people do, just as long as it doesn’t involve me.”

  “You don’t care that other people have sex?”

  “Why do you sound so surprised? It’s not that I object to the, the act. Not in and of itself. I don’t think it’s wrong. It’s just, it’s not something I want to do or am interested in doing. But, you know, I’m not interested in, oh, in sailing. I don’t think about sailing, I don’t particularly want to ever go sailing, but I don’t care that other people sail. They can do all the sailing they want, so long as they don’t try to get me on board.”

  “You sound so, I don’t know, nonchalant about it now,” Omar said carefully. “But the last time we talked about it, you were, well, you were very upset.”