The Dragon Rises

by Sarah Dalton

  “I was surprised, too,” Luca said. He sounded older than his years, and he laughed at the absurd inadequacy of the words. Then he looked up and saw her staring. “What is it?”

  Reva hesitated. When people laughed, often it was as if their cares fell away and took the years with them. Older people seemed younger when they laughed. When Luca laughed, however, all she could see was how different things were, and how they would never be the same again.

  “You are the king,” Reva told him. “It is strange to see. I hope you do not mind me saying that.”

  “It is strange,” Luca agreed. “And I am not yet the king. Stefan is still on the run, and Lord Tinian….” He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. “Reva, I am so glad to have you back. I feel so lost. I do not know how to be a king.”

  “You will be a fine king,” Reva said. She reached out to take his hand. “Luca, you have a good heart. Your father was lucky to have you as an heir.”

  “You know it was never me he wanted to have on the throne,” Luca said bitterly.

  “Matias was a fine man,” Reva said. She had adored Matias. Still, he had always seemed something more than human to her. Even his easy humour, the way he drew people in, had left her feeling strange and bewildered after speaking to him. “But if Matias had never been born, your father would still have had a strong heir in you, Luca. You were always smart and kind. Never proud. Never entitled.”

  Luca gave her a half-smile.

  “Luca, when I asked if you were Menti, when you said that Stefan was a dragon—there is something you do not know.” Reva realised her hands were wound tight in the napkin, and she laid it aside. “I am also Menti. Luca, I am a dragon shifter as well.”

  Luca blinked, frozen in shock.

  “I did not know until after Francis had died,” Reva said. “It explains many things. It explains why my children—” She broke off and pressed a hand over her mouth. “Why my children did not survive. My parents were dragon shifters as well. It is why they were killed, though that is a very long story. Sam and Carlia, who are here with me, are dragons too. They have taught me how to use my powers.”

  “Three dragons,” Luca murmured. “Three dragons, to Stefan’s one.”

  “Yes.” Reva was surprised. “I had not thought of that. But, Luca—I know you must be terribly busy, but there is something you should know. When I was running from Stefan’s soldiers, I was captured and brought to a horrible place. It is called the Gardens of Anios. They use Menti as slaves and work us until we are nearly dead.” She saw the look on Luca’s face. “What is it?”

  “I was told about the Gardens of Anios a few days ago,” Luca said.

  Reva sighed with relief. He would not disbelieve her, then. “So you will help,” she said. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “When you free them, there are three women in particular I am looking for. I escaped with them. Their names are—”

  “Reva.” Luca’s voice was high and uncertain. “They will be freed. I promise you.”

  The world seemed to shift under her feet. “What do you mean? When will they be freed?”

  “Soon.” Luca tried to smile. “I have sent soldiers to make sure that the conditions in the camps are much improved. No chains are worn, proper food and beds, anything they want. But, Reva, the plague will destroy Estala unless we have enough medicine, and we cannot afford to buy it from the Xanti. The workers at the Gardens of Anios are making it.”

  Reva put down her fork. Her mouth tasted like ash.

  “You found out they were keeping Menti slaves, and you did nothing? You, a Menti yourself? You are continuing to keep them locked up? Away from their families?” She stood so fast, her chair skidded away and tipped over. “How could you?”

  “Reva, please understand—”

  “I cannot understand. If you knew what they had done to us, you would know there was no excuse for what you are doing!”

  She ran from the room and down the stairs outside, ignoring his calls to return. It had been a mistake to come here. Luca was as bad as all the rest of them. He had gained the crown and turned cruel.

  Serena

  Serena lingered by the gate out into the city, aware of the curious stares of the guards. She was suddenly unsure of herself. She had dressed in very plain clothes, and one of the guards had agreed to come with her in similar clothing.

  Every instinct told her that what she was doing was not wise. Since she was a little girl, going out into the city alone had been considered unthinkable. She would never even have asked her father for permission to do so. Her mother had been very clear on where Serena belonged: in the castle, preferably doing things that would make her more marriageable, such as embroidery and dancing.

  Serena had disregarded the latter part of her mother’s advice, of course. When asked, she said she took an interest in political matters because she would like to be a credit to the household of any man who married her. She could advise him, be a loyal confidant, strengthen his power. Her father had snorted when he heard things like that, and her mother had looked doubtful, but no one had stopped her.

  The truth was, Serena had been furious at being overlooked. Matias was able to study statecraft. Stefan was able to study. Even Luca, who was so sickly that no one expected him to live very long, had been given tutors to teach him such things. Serena was going to do the same, even if she had to make it happen herself.

  She had been proud of herself for that until Brother Raphael came along. She had been proud of her ideas to cure the plague, and she had also been proud of the fact that she had stood up to Stefan. When Brother Raphael arrived, however, he had made her feel like a spoiled child. She had wanted to study these things because she felt slighted. She had been proud of her accomplishments and her bravery.

  Serena cared about the people of Estala, of course. She would not have gone against Stefan if she did not think it was necessary to do so. Lives were being lost. But when Raphael had asked her to go into the city, she had been afraid of her own subjects, and he was correct when he guessed that she believed herself too important to risk contracting the plague.

  And, infuriatingly, he had not brought it up since. He had simply allowed her to sit with her guilt and her shame.

  Serena squared her shoulders and nodded to the guards. They looked doubtful, but with Luca in charge, no one had been told to follow Serena or keep her in line. She was allowed to go into the city if she wished.

  Out in the streets below, she pulled her headscarf tighter against her plaited hair and walked quickly with her shoulders hunched. Twice, she had to remind her guard not to walk a half-step behind her, at her shoulder, but instead to walk with her as if he were her brother or her husband.

  It was strange to be out in the city without guards or a procession. Serena felt almost naked without her fine dresses and her circlet. No, that was not right. She felt unencumbered. She felt as if there were no longer any walls pressing in on her. She had believed for her whole life that she could not simply walk out into the city, but she was here, and nothing had gone wrong. She felt almost giddy.

  She had memorised the path to the hospital she wanted to see, and when she arrived at the gates, she had her story ready. She held up her basket, loaded with bandages and some of the few vials of medicine that had been smuggled past Stefan’s blockades.

  “I am Sera,” she said, using her mother’s old nickname for her. “I serve Lady Feryn. She sent me to distribute these and aid you at the hospital today.”

  “Lady Feryn is kind to do so.” The woman at the door stood back to allow Serena to enter. She looked as if she had once been a plump, motherly sort of woman. Serena imagined her with a ready smile and comforting words. Now, however, she seemed to have lost a good deal of weight very quickly, for her dress hung loose on her body, and her face was tired. She nodded dully to Serena. “This way. We can start with the bandages. These are the fortunate ones. It looks as though they may survive.”

  Serena paused
uncertainly before entering the first room. Her guard was tense at her shoulder, as if he was not sure whether he should stop her from going in. His name was Jonah, and he was even younger than Cato had been. She had chosen him specifically. An older guard might try to stop her, but Jonah would go along with her plans. He had soft brown eyes and a mouth that was a bit too full and soft to go with the rest of his face. Now his lips were parted in dismay.

  “It is all right,” Serena told him. “She said these people were getting better.”

  He nodded uncertainly, unaware that she was reassuring herself as much as him, and followed her as she stepped over the threshold.

  Serena had been afraid to come here, and she winced when she first saw one of the sores being drained, but she was surprised at how quickly she became inured to the sight. She followed the woman, who introduced herself as Matron Ayah, from bed to bed.

  Pus was drained from wounds, and Serena found herself wringing out wet cloths to lay on the patients’ foreheads. They clutched her hands sometimes, and though she tensed the first time, she soon realised they only meant to thank her. She smiled at them and tried not to cry at how thin and frail they looked. The sickness made them so weak, and their breath sometimes rattled in their lungs. Once, Serena helped a man sit up so he could cough. When she supported him, she was horrified to feel that he was no bigger around than Alberto, though he was a grown man. By the time she levered him back down, he was already passed out again from the exertion of coughing.

  When Matron Ayah led the way into another room, Serena followed without question. She was already weary, but she had seen the rows upon rows of beds, and she knew there was much more to be done. She was surprised to find that she had lost herself entirely in the work. She had no idea how long she had been at the hospital.

  In this room, it was much louder. The coughing and wheezing of the patient echoed around the room, and many of them were crying out in pain. Matron Aya beckoned Serena to one of the beds and took a vial of the medicine. She mixed a dose of it deftly with water and had Serena hold the patient upright so she could tip the mixture into the woman’s mouth. The woman coughed and protested weakly, and Serena could smell that the mixture was bitter, but the woman got the medicine down.

  “This is a new medicine discovered by the best doctors in Xantos and Estala,” Serena told her. “It arrived on the boats just a few days ago. They say you will feel better very soon.”

  The woman did not seem to hear her, and Serena hurried onward to the next bed, where Matron Ayah was already mixing the medicine for the next patient. This woman had a scared, sad-looking child curled next to her in the bed.

  “This child is not sick,” Serena said, uncomprehending.

  “Where else does she have to go?” Matron Ayah looked up at Serena, and for the first time, Serena saw her resentment. Even Sera, the fake palace servant, would not understand how the people of the city lived. “We could not turn her out to live on the streets.”

  “So she watches her mother sicken?” Serena whispered. She was horrified. She reached out impulsively to give the little girl a hug, but the girl only turned away from her and burrowed her face into her mother’s rank, sweat-soaked dress. Serena held the mother up for Matron Aya to give her the medicine, and this time she did not whisper any words of comfort. There were already tears on her cheeks, and she knew she could not keep her voice steady if she spoke.

  She worked, going from bed to bed, until the medicine was gone.

  “Your High—my lady,” Jonah told her worriedly. “It has been most of the day. We should return.”

  Serena wiped at her forehead. She was swaying on her feet. Jonah was right. The morning light that had slanted in the windows was gone now, and she was fiercely hungry. How long had they been here?

  She swayed again, and a hand at her elbow steadied her.

  “Sit, Princess,” a voice told her.

  Too tired to notice the title at first, Serena sat. Only when the owner of the voice returned with a cup of water did she realise it was Brother Raphael. She stopped with the water cup halfway to her mouth, and to her frustration, she felt her cheeks flush.

  He did not mention it. He was crouched by her chair and he looked pleased, but not in any self-satisfied way. “You came,” he told her. “Matron Ayah tells me you have been tending to these people all day.”

  “Yes.” To her shame, Serena felt a sob well up in her throat. “There are so many of them,” she said. “We tended to dozens, but there are too many more to care for all of them. And what about the city? There are children here, watching their parents—” She pressed a hand over her mouth before she could say the word die.

  Brother Raphael nodded.

  “How could this happen?” Serena asked. She knew he was a priest, and she did not want to blaspheme, but the question welled up in her silently, at least: How could the Enlightened God let this happen?

  “It is the way of the world,” Brother Raphael said gravely. “Such injustices, such pain, come to all. To give you a simple reason would be to lie. All I know is that the Enlightened God means us to use our talents to alleviate this suffering. He must, surely. How could we do anything else?”

  Serena looked down at her lap. I did not do so, she thought, and she felt a great sense of shame. If she had come out into the city, she would have known that things were this bad. She would have been more urgent in her efforts for plague relief. Instead, she had treated it as a political puzzle.

  Brother Raphael took her hand and helped her to stand. It was improper, but Serena was not sure she could stand on her own without wobbling. She was just about to ask if she might have something to eat when Brother Raphael said to those assembled,

  “All of you here, you should know who it is who has been tending to you today.”

  Many eyes turned to Serena, and terror welled up in her chest. She shook her head at Raphael. No.

  “They should know,” he told her. He spoke kindly but firmly. “This is the princess Serena who has come to tend to you herself.”

  There was a sudden murmur, and Serena saw Jonah looking around the room in a panic. He had only agreed to this because she had promised him that no one would know who she was.

  “She has brought you medicine that was sent to the royal family,” Raphael told all of them. His brown eyes were warm. “When I asked her if she had seen how things were in the city, she said she had not—so she came to see all of you.”

  He looked at Serena, and she realised he meant for her to speak to them as well. She cleared her throat anxiously and had the thought that her father was going to be very angry. But her father was dead now, and Stefan was gone. Luca was going to be king, and he wanted to cure the plague as much as she did.

  She knew she could not speak of the political problems that had brought them here. She wanted only to give these people hope, for their despair ate at them nearly as much as the sickness.

  “The past weeks have been hard,” Serena told them. “The plague has seemed to have no end and no cure. You have had two kings, and now you have a third—my brother, Luca. He returned with an army, and there was fighting in the streets. You must wonder if you are safe. Perhaps you wonder if the Enlightened God has abandoned you.

  “I swear to you, your rulers are thinking of you every day. The medicine I brought today was made by the finest doctors in Xantos and Estala. The two realms are working together so that we can cure you and bring peace to the world. Prince Luca, soon to be your king, works every day with his council to see you cured and prosperous once more.

  “I am glad to have met you today. I am glad to have seen the city, not just the palace. I am your princess. I will do all I can to see that every one of you has medicine, and that you can go home to your families soon.”

  Some of the people were crying. Others reached out for Serena to take their hands. She touched them, murmured words of comfort, and then allowed Brother Raphael and Jonah to lead her away and back to the castle.

 
“That is the hospital you work at?” she asked Brother Raphael finally.

  “It is not,” he admitted. “But it is one of the better-known hospitals, and when I heard that you had gone missing, I wondered if that was where you might be. I came alone. Your brother was quite worried about you.”

  “I am well,” Serena said, annoyed.

  Brother Raphael smiled.

  “You thought I would go to the hospital?” she asked a moment later. They made their way through the gates, and she looked up at him curiously. “I did not think you thought very well of me.”

  His smile was so warm that for a moment, she forgot there was anyone else in the courtyard. “On the contrary, Princess. I think very well of you indeed,” he murmured. Then his expression grew distant, and he bowed to her courteously. “I will see you at our meeting with Lord Tinian tomorrow,” he told her, and he left without another word, leaving Serena staring after him.

  Luca

  Luca was pacing in one of the gardens when Lord Tinian found him. It was near sunset, and Luca had begun tripping over the unfamiliar paths. This was one of his father’s private gardens—one of the king’s private gardens, he reminded himself, which meant it would soon be one of his—and he had never come here when he was little.

  He had wanted to go to his favourite gardens near the throne room, but he was afraid he would see Reva—afraid to remember their childhood games amongst the flowers. He was also afraid he might not see her.

  He had gone after her the other night, but he thought she might make a scene if he insisted upon speaking with her. This morning, when he sent a guard to see if she would dine with him, he had received no answer. Apparently, she would not open the door of her chambers.

  She was right to be angry with him, and Luca knew it, but he also knew that if he did not act quickly, the plague would consume all of Estala. What would she have him do? Even if he sent every doctor in the city to the Gardens of Anios to use the herbs—which would take time—there would not be enough people to make enough medicine to cure the country.