Iduna

  The music whirled around her and struck.

  She started running to escape the sounds and considered how they seemed to drive the biting and nipping on her skin.

  She ran for hours, fast at first, hurdling tree stumps and brushing with other creatures that were also fleeing the music. They all seemed propelled along a similar frenzied path.

  Her running eventually became walking, shuffling, and finally crawling. She didn't dare stop moving. The other creatures that were driven like she was all slowed as their strength waned. The weakest were stumbled over by the strongest.

  All eventually tired and dragged themselves forward until they passed out, twitching while they slumbered.

  Chapter 46

  Iduna woke up to a silent darkness. Completely disoriented but too exhausted to react, she lay still in a semiconscious state. It started to drizzle. The air was still.

  She knew if she could roll over onto her back, then the rain might have a chance to soothe her parched throat and give her some energy. She flopped over in one massive effort.

  Looking up at the night, the clouds hung low as they dropped rain on her spent body. She opened her mouth wide to take in more of the precious pearls of water.

  The torment had passed, and she didn't think anything had been broken in her frenzy. She fell back asleep with small relief.

  …

  Morning dawned bright and clear. Water dripped from trees, and everything was dewy wet. She woke to a sharp pinch on her cheek. A mosquito. She swung her arm to slap it and slapped herself hard on the face.

  “Of course,” she said.

  She pushed herself up to a sitting position. It was too beautiful a morning for how she felt. She was still thirsty and, as her stomach announced with a loud rumble, hungry as well. She didn't know where she was, but she'd better get moving to scrounge up some food. In a lush landscape like this she should have no trouble. She remembered the papaya tree by the dragons' cave. She could not even guess how far away that was.

  She stood and brushed sticks, leaves, and odd clots of dirt from her clothes. She still felt unsteady on her feet.

  The world shook, and she braced herself, fearing a return of those horrible sounds.

  The ground underneath her seemed to turn over, and she fell, sliding down a small hill. She tumbled and sprawled into the overgrowth.

  Chapter 47

  “You would make a good snack.”

  Iduna’s insides jumped at the sound of the deep, gravelly voice and felt the gust of warm air. Her focus rose to meet the blue-topaz gaze of the dragon that had thrown fire at her the first day on the island. Its enormous bulk was like a hollow shell with scales the color of gray stone, weathered and sharp, almost brittle looking.

  She pushed to the back of her mind the fact that she’d been sleeping on top of a dragon.

  “Not really,” she observed. “I haven't eaten much lately, and I'm very dirty.”

  “I didn't say you would make a meal. Come here.”

  “No. I'm going to get some food. If you want, I will bring some back to you.”

  “Suit yourself.” The dragon gave up on the idea of an easy snack and sank into despondence.

  She set off for the trees and hoped to find something edible fast. The pickings were easy. There were animals splayed out everywhere. There were a number of dead rabbits, but Iduna couldn't bring herself to eat animals that had died from the experience she'd just endured. Instead, she found a patch of peanuts and a thistled bunch of pineapples, smelling sweet and juicy. She jostled the peanuts and pineapples, and wondered at her prickly choice as she headed back to where the gray dragon lay.

  One steel grey eye opened as she neared it.

  She pulled out her machete from her gear, and carved off the top and sides of the pineapples, ending with five yellow cubes of juiciness. As she carved one into smaller pieces, she addressed the dragon.

  “I'm Iduna.”

  She put four pineapples on a rock and quickly hopped away to where she thought was out of reach of the listless dragon. She crawled over to her own jagged black rock and tried to find a comfortable position to eat. Devouring the golden sweetness, she began to feel better immediately.

  The dragon’s single open eye watched her subtle change in energy and turned to the yellow squares. A long reptilian tongue reached out toward the pineapples.

  It couldn't reach.

  Giving in to the situation, she moved forward. The tongue remained outstretched.

  She put one of the pineapples on the dry tongue. It curved around the pineapple like a child hugging a teddy bear and rolled the treat into the dragon's mouth. Both eyes closed in an expression of relieved bliss.

  “More.” The tongue rolled back out for another.

  She harrumphed, took another bite of her own spears of the sweet stuff, then tossed one of the pineapples in its direction. The nimble tongue caught the pineapple in midair and swept it into its jaws.

  This routine was repeated for the rest of the pineapples.

  “There's no more.”

  The dragon sighed. Both of their stomachs rumbled and gurgled with hunger. At least they were alive.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “I am nothing.” If a dragon could wallow, this one was definitely wallowing.

  “What is your name?”

  “I was called Lexonia. I am her no more.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes. I have lost my family. I don't deserve them.”

  “What was that horrible sound that did this to us?”

  The dragon lolled onto its side, still considering eating Iduna. She could tell. A quick puff of frustration came. “I don't know.”

  Iduna shelled some of the peanuts she'd dug up. Not large enough to interest a dragon beyond curiosity, its ears swiveled to listen to what she was doing. Neither moved. They sat in silence, each in their own thoughts, resting and recovering from the night.

  …

  “You know, I just started hearing the sound,” Iduna said. In the dim light of early evening, she couldn’t see Lexonia clearly. The dragon made a low rumbling sound in response. “How long have you heard it?”

  In a low raspy voice, the dragon finally answered, “I don't know. A long time.”

  Iduna turned to look at the sprawled dragon. Suddenly its ears perked, and scales around its mouth flared.

  She felt it too. The sound was faint but growing. The music was exquisitely delightful. The wind was coming from the south.

  The dragon's eyes burn brightly as if a blue fire burned within.

  “No! No!” She covered her ears in desperation. “We must fight it.” She plopped down on the ground, trying to root herself to the spot, centering herself for the coming fury. She clenched her eyes closed. “No, no, no, no, no.”

  Amid the growing waves of sound, she felt the dragon's breath sweep over her — panting waves of cold. She opened her eyes to see the dragon standing over her.

  “Oh, no.”

  Maybe its urge to make her a snack, a last bit of sustenance before the impending frenzy, caused the dragon to break free of its exhaustion and whatever morals a dragon might have. It seemed restrained by a thin tether. In Iduna’s agitated state, working magic was impossible.

  She leaped up and began running, dodging between trees, hoping they would provide cover. How does one escape a dragon? She heard its huge mass breaking through the brush behind her.

  The forest was opening up to a clearing ahead. With no choice, her only hope her speed, she plowed forward.

  She felt a burning chill growing behind her, just as she realized the clearing was actually a cliff.

  A roar swept over her from up ahead. Cold flames licked her back. She screamed in pain and hurled over the edge, arms and legs spinning like a slow pinwheel. She fell and fell, the mist rising up to meet her plunging descent.

  Her stomach lurched into her chest.

  She splashed deep into the pool at the base of the enormous waterf
all. Water convulsed and rolled her to and fro. She curled into a ball instinctively and made futile swimming motions when the churning eased. Struggling to get to the surface, Iduna felt the panic growing in her mind.

  Sunlight drew her up. Breaking through to air, she gasped and was sucked below again.

  Chapter 48

  Iduna’s body floated down the river. She caught on a tree branch and blinked into the sunlight. The burn on her back dragged her into consciousness, and she used the branch to pull herself to the shore. The branch felt odd and scaly. Her back was swept with alternating waves of heat and cold. All sound felt muffled and distant. The pain was unbearable.

  She passed out.

  …

  Iduna woke with a start. Her cheek was lying in a pool of squishy mud, under trees at the edge of a river. She was sprawled on her stomach, a tree branch poking her there. The night sky was full of stars. That scent—she knew that scent.

  “You know, your breath is very distinctive.” She worked to push herself up out of the mud without pressing deeper into it.

  “Stay still,” Lexonia ordered.

  The words had barely left the dragon’s mouth when pain flashed through Iduna.

  “Your wound is still fresh.”

  Choking back her scream, Iduna clenched her teeth and grimaced at the dragon. She ground out, “You mean the wound you gave me.”

  The dragon sighed. “I can make it better.”

  “How?” she asked.

  “My saliva will heal it. Complete healing will take a while, but this will be a dramatic improvement.”

  “You want to spit on me?” Another wave of pain hit her. “Oh, Yorin, just do it! Do it!” She felt the rough abrasion of its tongue on her back and grimaced. The feeling that her skin was tearing apart waned and disappeared. She felt whole and soothed. She sighed in relief.

  Lexonia laid the thick part of her tail down next to Iduna and commanded, “Roll on.”

  Ready to follow orders, she did exactly that. Lexonia slid Iduna from her tail to her broad tiled back.

  “Hold on.”

  The dragon walked awkwardly on land, aware of its poorly balanced charge. Lexonia lay down gently—not in the mud, Iduna noted absently—and they rested again.

  After a while, her curiosity overwhelmed her exhaustion. She needed answers. Who knew when the sounds would start again?

  “We have to get away from the sounds. Help me figure out how to escape them,” she said.

  “There is no escape,” Lexonia said.

  “That can't be true. You must think.”

  “I am tired,” Lexonia replied.

  Iduna never thought she'd hear a dragon whine. “You owe me,” Iduna said.

  Lex was impassive. Her head lay on the ground.

  “You owe your mate and child,” Iduna said.

  Lex closed her eyes.

  Iduna had guessed right. She pressed on. “They seem to be immune. I was immune. We don't have to keep suffering. There must be a way out.”

  Lex considered her words. “You say that you weren't affected before. Before what? What happened to you?”

  Iduna had a choice to make here. She was going to have to admit to spying on Lex's family. She braced herself on Lex's back, placing her feet between some of the scales and grabbing nearby handholds.

  “My people are being enslaved by a dark magic that we don't understand, let alone know how to fight. I need to save them.”

  “Get to the point, little stick.”

  “The people on a neighboring island sent me here to learn. I think I am supposed to learn from your kind.”

  “Of course.” The dragon was old and, though full of self-loathing, still retained pride in her species.

  “I followed two dragons and watched them.”

  “Did you hurt them, stick?”

  It felt like a light steam was seething from between all the dragon's scales. Iduna flushed with heat.

  “No!”

  “Hmm.”

  “The older one, Rubino, seemed to be teaching his son.”

  At this, a tear escaped the dragon. The droplet bubbled and steamed over the scales of Lex’s muzzle.

  “They are fine,” Iduna reassured. “Well, actually your son has a couple rips in his wing from a pack of hungry beasts.” She got no further as Lex stood up abruptly. She slid down the dragon’s back and grasped for new holds. Secure again, for the moment, she said, “They are fine!”

  Lex swung around her head and was now in Iduna’s face, searching for truth.

  “They are fine. You, however, are not fine. We need to figure this out.”

  Lexonia bared her teeth in a hissing growl.

  “Rubino was teaching your son how to breathe fire. When I tried to follow his instructions, I started hearing that horrible sound.” Her words broke through Lexonia’s anger.

  “You can't breathe fire. Why would you try?” Lex was confused.

  Tired, Iduna reached for the dirt and leaves with her abilities, building a pathetic replica of a tree, the dirt molding into a trunk and branches.

  Lex looked mildly impressed. “That is interesting. But it's not fire. Sticks can't breathe fire. Why did you try?”

  “When Rubino was telling Esten what to do, he mentioned breathing into a place deep within. I have been touched by the dark power that is enslaving my people. It left in me this hollowness, this pit in my chest that fills and overflows with emotion. I guess I was hoping that Rubino's directions might touch that hollowness and get rid of it.”

  Lex exhaled a puff of steam. “I don’t remember anything. My past is a blur. I’ve lost everything.” The dragon glared at Iduna.

  “Maybe I did something wrong,” Iduna said.

  “Or maybe that's just what happens to a stick when she tries to breathe fire.”

  The conversation was tiring after all that they'd been through. Iduna was injured now and blanched at the thought of the sounds starting again in her present physical condition. The thought was motivating. “I can't possibly know if a 'stick' can breathe fire, but you could let me know if I did something wrong.”

  Lex laid her head back down grudgingly. “Okay. What did you do?”

  “I stilled my mind, focused on the heaviness between my eyes, breathed in slowly, finding the deepest spot of inhalation. On the next slow inhale, I pulled the air down just beyond the deepest spot. That was when I began hearing the sounds. I can't believe I couldn't hear them before!”

  “You are missing something.”

  “Good. So it's not just being a ‘stick.’” She rubbed one of the scales absently and cringed with the movement. She was still sore. “I can't help but remember that you've breathed fire recently, though it's not exactly fire, is it?”

  “Each dragon's fire is different,” Lex responded automatically, gazing into her enfeebled mind looking for the hidden piece.

  “What did you do before you burned me to a crisp with that cold flame of yours?” she asked.

  Lex looked embarrassed. “I could have done worse … in the old days.” Lex tapped her claws in what Iduna thought was an exceedingly human gesture. “It's all so automatic now. I go through the steps Rubino described. But there is something more.”

  “How long do we have until the sound starts again?”

  “It's unpredictable. It could be weeks or seconds.”

  “Great.”

  Chapter 49

  Freya watched her prisoner paddle their small boat to the dock in Okeenos during the dark stillness of night. The tide was out, and the boat was lower than the dock. She hummed Vilir’s tune while her prisoner stood up on his toes, stretching to loop the line of rope around a post.

  She'd been looking forward to this moment.

  She was finally in Okeenos. She would find Iduna and bring her back to Vilir for punishment. Then her husband would be free, and they could go back to life as usual. The thought made her realize that she didn't want to go back to her previous life. She had been a fool.


  Now was the time.

  She crept up behind Minh. When he turned, she embraced him with one arm. With her other arm she plunged the dagger into his chest, between his ribs and straight through his heart. As she looked him in the face, taking in every nuance of his surprise and pain, she whispered, “Thank you for showing me my power.”

  His legs lost their strength, and his eyes became flat, unmoving. When he slipped downward, she angled his body so that it fell quietly over the side. There was a single splash.

  She wiped the dagger against her leg without thought. She was more alive than ever.

  She clambered up the spikes in the dock piling left there for other low-tide arrivals. Did Iduna climb up these same spikes? Not likely. Lucky and spoiled Iduna. It had taken Freya four days to get here in no wind. She still remembered the sight of Iduna zipping off in the high wind. In contrast, Freya’s wind had been weak and dissipated to nothing.

  Fortunately she'd known how to motivate her prisoner. Her prisoner. She loved the feeling of control. She would find Iduna and make Iduna her new prisoner.

  The night sky was empty. She wanted high ground. Surveying the wharf, she made her way to the buildings facing the dock. She climbed to the roof and lay down to sleep, wrapping a tarp from the boat around her.

  She'd had to stay awake while on board to keep an eye on her prisoner. Now she could rest for a little while. Just a little while. She slept with her hand curled around the hilt of the dagger. It felt good.

  Chapter 50

  Iduna and Lex would talk back and forth until one of them fell asleep, then they'd start up again as soon as the other had the will to wake them both up to start anew. They had a sense of urgency combined with deep exhaustion and had been going round and round for hours.

  “Try it again,” Iduna said.

  Lex exhaled a sparkling silver cloud with fiery edges of dancing blue, like the blue of thick ice.

  “That was better,” Iduna observed.

  “It was.” Lex seemed to expand slightly with pride.