The Dragon's Heart

by David Powers King

  “Do you not see your doom, Ereman?” he gloated at the wizard. “I am more powerful than ever!”

  “A wizard never uses all of his magic on the first blow.” A light beamed at the Alchemist from the sphere on Ereman’s staff. “Darkness will never prevail!”

  Alkivar stilled the light with a dark ray from his hand. “Imbecile! You would destroy us again, just to delay my inevitable return? Remember what happened last time? If we throw down our guard, this castle will become a crater, just like the Palace of LaVóndia!”

  “This won’t be like last time.” Artizan stretched his arm over Celesia’s shoulder, and sent a steady stream of magic from his own palm. “I’m here to finish this!”

  Alkivar blocked the fire with his other hand. Celesia guided Artizan to the stairs, and up the first step. The alchemist roared at them, with black fire leaping from his mouth. His skin paled so much that she could see his skull. His wrath overpowered Artizan’s spell for a moment, but his curse swept over Celesia completely. Artizan resumed his magic as Celesia kept climbing.

  It’s working! Just a few more steps ...

  Alkivar resisted the magic from either side of him. Celesia seized his wrist and moved his spell away from them. Snarling, he grabbed her by the neck and tossed her down the stairs. She tried to stop herself, but it was no use. Pain sheared through her back and shoulder.

  Artizan stood before the alchemist.

  He was completely exposed. “No!”

  Celesia scampered back up the stairs, but she was too late. Alkivar laughed as he raised his free hand, but his next attack was too slow. Artizan had reached out, and his human hand wrapped around the Dragon’s Heart.

  A scorching blue light flashed within the stone. Tiny comets swirled through the keep. The Alchemist cried out in terror as his body sieved into the Dragon’s Heart, like grains of ocean sand. A bright explosion followed, forcing Celesia to cover her eyes. Something tumbled down the stairs as the light dissipated. She looked up again, and leaned against the wall in a stupor. Artizan was at rest on the stairs. He didn’t move, or breathe.

  The Dragon’s Heart glowed in his lifeless hand.

  Chapter 28

  Welcoming the Wizard

  “Cover your heads!” Ereman warned.

  The wood supports groaned under the weight of the swaying tower until they snapped apart. A thunderous crash of pulverized stone showered over them. The foundation crumbled and demolished the landing where Artizan had spent his last few moments as a dragon.

  An invisible force, conjured by Ereman, prevented the tower from mashing them into powder.

  Celesia raised her head when the tumult came to an end. There was no longer a roof over their heads. The clouds in the sky churned and dissolved. The color in the sky signified that an hour remained before dusk.

  There was quiet in the air. No breeze. No wind. No breath. Celesia knelt beside Artizan, and she cradled his head in her hands. She pressed her forehead against his. He was gone, and her heart was beginning to break.

  “It is done,” Ereman said. “Why so sad?”

  “I—couldn’t save him,” Celesia sobbed.

  “Let me have a look.” Ereman knelt beside her. He picked up the Dragon’s Heart and stared into it, as if he were expecting to see something moving inside. The wizard grunted as he placed the stone on the floor. He pressed his hand over Artizan’s forehead and revealed a smile. “He is a healthy young man. Not bad for being a hundred years old. I see nothing wrong with him.”

  “But,” Celesia said, “he’s not breathing.”

  “Not as deeply as we’re accustomed to.”

  “He sleeps? Then, he’s finally asleep?”

  “I gave him an unpleasant side effect when I turned him into a dragon,” Ereman said. “Turning a human into a dragon isn’t easy. A Castor of Magic would have to be as experienced as myself in order to make such a transformation, not without a consequence. If I turned Artizan into a dragon, he would have protection from the destruction that would come, after I crossed magic with Thoth. This needed a sacrifice on my part, so my life transferred into the dagger. Prince Artizan became a dragon, the perfect creature to survive such destruction. This gave him added vigor, so he never desired sleep.”

  “You fought Alkivar, turned Artizan into a dragon, and made yourself a dagger, only to vanish and reappear on the day of my birth, all at once?” Celesia said, trying to make sense of what happened a century ago. “I’ve heard of multitasking, but that’s ridiculous.”

  “Please understand, I did not single you out for my tethering charm. While I kept Thoth’s murderous hand at bay, I foresaw a princess being born after years of no female heirs in LaVóndia. If this ever happened, Thoth would return, so I enchanted my dagger to become a quaternary, which would appear at the doorstep of the first princess to be born. You see, the transformation, which I have performed on Artizan was to be benign, but Thoth changed it to a curse. There is only one form of magic strong enough to lift that kind of curse.”

  Celesia pointed at herself. “I’ve never cast magic.”

  “You have,” Ereman replied. “The enchantment of your mother and Sarandretta was something that I did not foresee. By their magic and the gift of your mother’s influence, they instilled a deep protection on you that is absolute against spells, curses, or any direct magic.”

  “Direct magic? What do you mean?”

  “The exchange you witnessed between Thoth and I is a good example of direct magic,” Ereman explained further. “Indirect magic is just as powerful, much like the tethering charm I placed on the dagger—and the magic at your behalf is the most powerful magic of all.”

  The thought warmed her. “What magic is that?”

  “Love—the only true magic.”

  “You hoped I would fall in love with Artizan?”

  “I didn’t think you would. He was a dragon, after all. That’s absurd.” Ereman’s confidence beamed through his beard. “No one unlocked your hearts other than yourselves. The difference is you loved Artizan while he possessed a dragon’s heart before he turned into a prince. He has always loved you, from the moment he saw you. True love endures all things, no matter what follows.”

  The wizard was right. She had found a way to love a prince, all on her own. And he loved her in return.

  Artizan looked so peaceful in her arms. She couldn’t blame him for falling asleep. It was his first opportunity to do so in his entire life. She pressed her lips on his. Artizan opened his eyes, and looked startled when he realized she had placed a kiss on him. He then reached his hand to the back of her neck, and reciprocated.

  “What was I doing just now?” Artizan asked.

  “Taking your first nap,” Ereman replied.

  Celesia nodded. “Our curses are lifted.”

  “Hello, Ereman,” Artizan answered as he looked around. “What about Alkivar? What happened to him?”

  “He is very much alive, I am afraid.” Ereman picked up the Dragon’s Heart from the floor. The prismatic light that used to shine in the gemstone was no longer radiant, having turned into the deepest and darkest of blue. “However, he will find it hard to return again.”

  “Why is that?” Celesia asked. “Where is he?”

  “Why do you hold the Heart so careful?”

  Ereman turned his focus on the gem. “I am not sure what to do with it. What was a vessel for magic is now a prison for the eldest son of the Royal Magical Family.”

  “He’s in there?!” Celesia and Artizan asked together.

  The wizard nodded. “Thoth was a clever Alchemist, I will give him that, but he failed to understand a basic element of science. There is compensation when matter is displaced, and the magic Thoth stole from the land caused the Dragon’s Heart to condense its capacity beyond its limits. The absence of matter would cause it to explode, unless something were to take its place.

  “As you have never touched the stone, Artizan, you were immune. Untainted. But Thoth’s influence was so deep
ly intertwined, it consumed him. The Dragon’s Heart is not a Stone of Want or magic. It is a prison to the Alchemist forever, until the end of our universe.”

  Artizan sighed. “Thank you Ereman, for everything.”

  The wizard bowed. “And you, Your Highness.”

  Artizan reached for Celesia again, his blue eyes on the verge of shedding grateful tears. “And I thank you. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t strong enough to protect you.”

  She placed her hand on his chest, where she felt the beating of his heart. “I know where your strength lies.”

  They stared longingly at each other, and embraced again. Their quest of restoring the lost magic was over.

  A sudden bang echoed up the tower from below. A door crashed open, followed by voices that bounded along the walls. Hasty steps marched the stairs. Celesia darted for the balcony to appraise the courtyard. She didn’t know if Alkivar’s power had lost its influence on the battle or not. The fighting had stopped. Alkivar’s men threw down their arms and surrendered, acting as though they didn’t know what they were doing in Bëdoustram. This was evidence enough that Alkivar’s power was undone. She returned to the landing and waited for the newcomers to make themselves known.

  Leading the charge was General Buff Key, followed by Brookwind, Taika and Sarandretta. As they ran up the next flight of stairs, she saw Dálcort and Lyell following them. They were alive, too. As much as she disliked Dálcort, the cruel feelings she once had for the prince weren’t as intense as they once were. They both froze in their tracks at the sight of Artizan and Ereman.

  “Erie?” Sarandretta shrieked happily. “Is it you?”

  “It is, dearest,” Ereman replied. “I’m back.”

  Sarandretta embraced the wizard with great speed. Celesia and Artizan looked at each other, and laughed.

  Taika rolled her eyes. “Touchy-feely humans ...”

  Sarandretta released her hold on the wizard, and she stood still for a second. “We must do something about that potato sack on your back, young man.” In a flash from Sarandretta’s wand, Artizan’s tabard disappeared. A pair of knightly trousers, a white undershirt and a thick dark tabard had replaced it. Celesia was impressed. Sarandretta was quite the seamstress for a mage.

  Artizan blushed. “Clothing feels weird ...”

  Celesia dimpled as Lyell and Dálcort reached them on the landing. “I thought you both were dead.”

  “I’m not a ghost,” Lyell said. “The dragon found me. I thought he was going to eat me, but he left me and came back with a chandler who healed me. The dragon told me to seek help from the Trisontians after that.” He paused when he saw Artizan. “Who might you be?”

  “Where is that Alkivar scum?” said Dálcort.

  “We’ll explain later,” Sarandretta said. “Now that all is taken care of here, we must tend to your father.”

  “My father?” Celesia asked. “Is he alright?”

  “Allow me.” Ereman placed the Dragon’s Heart in his pocket and held his staff with both hands. “We’ll reach him faster this way. Stay close to me, everyone!”

  No one had a chance to object as Ereman swirled his staff. A wind lifted them off their feet, and hurtled them over the side of the balcony. A whirling vortex caught hold of Celesia, and they landed gently on the ground. Hilander, Tamsyn and Modlyn greeted them with astonishment, along with other familiar faces. A huge number of white horses stood among the throng with just as many eagles perched on the outer wall. Debris from the fallen keep had demolished the main hall. Sarandretta said the king was inside, but no one had to go in to fetch him. A troll carried the king to safety.

  “Har be da mon kern,” Zorp spoke inaudibly until he saw Celesia. “Thrilled to see you, Princess! Promise not to eat you this time or ever, now that I know better.”

  “Let’s have a look at his wounds,” Ereman said.

  Zorp lowered the unconscious king to the ground.

  A long sword had pierced his side. He had lost a fair amount of blood. Celesia held onto his hand as tears filled her eyes. The king tried to speak, but it was too hard for him. When all hope was lost, a man pried his way through the crowd and touched his wound.

  “That should do it,” said Nichasin. He lifted the torn shirt from the king’s side. The wound healed without a trace of a scar. “Is there anyone else I can help?”

  “Nichie?” Sarandretta asked in disbelief.

  Nichasin turned to her. “Hello, mother.”

  Sarandretta rushed to him and hugged him. Ereman said nothing, looking at the chandler with a new smile. Artizan knelt next to the king. Celesia couldn’t believe everything that was happening. The armies rejoiced as the king sat up. He embraced Celesia, and struggled to hold back the tears now forming in his gray eyes.

  “Who is this strapping young man?” he asked.

  “Artizan,” Celesia said. “Prince of LaVóndia.”

  “That so? A Prince? My daughter likes you?”

  Celesia nodded before Artizan could answer.

  “Marry, before you change your mind!”

  “Pause the wedding,” Ereman advised, loud enough for the king and those near him. “The prince must have time to rest. He deserves a long slumber, as I do.”

  Lýnivad stood and looked about. “Men and creatures of the land, the tyrant has been stopped. We will heal the fallen and celebrate, like Bëdoustram never has!”

  Everybody around them cheered mightily.

  Celesia saw Prince Dálcort smiling at her.

  And she surprised herself by returning it.

  “You have finally given me a smile?” he asked “What have I done to deserve your respect, Princess?”

  “Stopping the men on the stairs helped. How did you survive? Mavarco pushed you off the airship.”

  “I caught him,” Artizan said with a thin smile.

  Dálcort stepped back. “You were the dragon?”

  Artizan held Celesia close. “Still feel like one.”

  Dálcort nodded. “I understand. I wish your pardon for treating Princess Celesia as the prize of a hunt. The power Mavarco promised captivated me so profoundly that I discarded my true purpose in coming here. You need not worry. I will depart on the morrow.”

  Dusk settled over the mountains. Sarandretta and Ereman went about making repairs to the castle while Nichasin searched the grounds for more wounded. The only creatures they couldn’t help were those turned into statues. Torches and bonfires were lit. A few servants set up a banquet. The Bëdoustrians and warriors alike removed their wears of war and made their way to eat. Celesia and Artizan stopped in front of their friend. She climbed Groth’s arm and kissed him on the cheek. Artizan wrapped his arms around her as she slid down.

  “I wish we could bring him back,” said Celesia.

  “We’ll find a way. I’m sure we will.”

  She nodded as Artizan looked at the ogre. “Thank you, Grologroth. You’re the best friend a dragon could ask for. We’ll find a way to bring you back, if it means searching the whole of LaVóndia again.” Artizan knelt in front of Celesia, and clasped his hand on hers. “Let’s promise him, by word of the new Royal Magical Family, that we will find a way to bring Groth back to us.”

  She gasped. “The new Royal Magical Family?”

  “To be king, I need a queen. Would you?”

  Celesia smiled. “Forever—and always.”

  Artizan rushed to his feet and raised Celesia into the air. His handsome smile beamed as he carried her across the courtyard to announce their engagement. She was happy, truly happy for the help of her new friends, who aided in saving her kingdom—and finding her love. She looked at the frozen ogre in the courtyard, thanking him most of all for his steadfast, unmatched loyalty.

  The next sunrise would welcome spring.

  Chapter 29

  Restoring the Magic

  “Wake up, milady,” Vivian sang. “Welcome this bright, gorgeous day. The sun shines and the birds sing. Come now—your fiancé awaits you in the dining hall!”


  Celesia slept with difficulty the following week, her bed more comfortable than she was accustomed to. She selected a lilac dress and quickly brushed her hair before making her way to the dining hall. Her mother’s portrait looked at her with the same smile that greeted her every morning. The canvas was restored, the fragment of the Dragon’s Heart hanging around Clariön’s neck again. She paused at the portrait, at peace with her sacrifice.

  “Thank you, Mother. For everything.”

  She heard someone in a struggle as she approached the dining hall—the clang of metal pierced the air. She saw a suit of armor, its hollow gauntlets resting over the hilt of a sword. In fear that Artizan was in trouble, she removed the sword and kicked the door open. The dining hall was filled with guests and spectators. They turned their attention to her as she entered. Artizan and Lyell looked apprehensive when they saw her steel.

  The two young men had been fencing.

  Celesia blushed at her haste. Their adventure was still fresh on her mind, as were her keen reflexes. “Sorry for barging in. Thought I’d bring my own silverware.”

  The hall roared with laughter. Artizan sat by Celesia. They enjoyed a bowl of steaming porridge and drizzled honey together. The dark circles under his eyes had faded some, bringing new life to his handsome face.

  Most of the creatures of magic had left Bëdoustram. The talking horses were the first to leave, followed by Gyrfàlon and his eagles. The trolls returned to Trisontia with a copy of A Troll’s Amended Guide to Trolldom, and the elves left to rebuild their community in the trees, so the dwarves could live under their forest again. Hilander decided to stay, as did Tamsyn and Taika, while Groth remained frozen in the courtyard, powerless to choose his coming or going. One night, the wooden statue of the ogre had disappeared, troubling Artizan greatly.

  “Did someone move him?” he asked.

  “To the palace,” declared a strong, feminine voice. A new ogre stood behind them—a lady ogre. She looked like Groth in many ways, but with long locks of green hair and a thick apron tied around her waist.