by Duncan Lay
‘This is not a saga! Real life does not end happily and neatly!’ Merren almost snarled.
‘But—’ Louise began.
‘It is too late. My decision stands. I shall marry Sendric tomorrow. I shall go and bathe—send the dressmaker to me,’ Merren announced, before striding out.
‘I can’t believe she’s really going to marry Sendric!’ Gia sighed.
‘Aye. After all she has done for the country, the least she deserves is a little happiness…’
‘After all they have both done for the country,’ Conal interrupted.
Louise acknowledged it with a nod. ‘Aye. But none of that matters. As she said, this is not a saga and tomorrow afternoon we shall see the ending.’
‘Dragonara Isle!’
The lookout’s call brought Gello up from the cabin where he had been eating fish for breakfast. There had not been much food on the ships but there were plenty of fish in the sea and, thanks to Khaliz, they were easy to catch. Gello was a little sick of them by now but had high hopes of richer fare that day. He had been eating in his cabin, trying in vain to draw a picture of Mother. Since he had been forced to leave her portrait behind in his tent, in the flight from Norstalos, he had missed her terribly. He still tried to talk to her, but it wasn’t the same.
When he heard the call, he put down his crude sketch and, along with every other man on board, rushed out on deck, pushing aside a pair of Tenochs to make room for himself.
‘Has anyone ever been there?’ he demanded of Onzalez.
‘None here. But Khaliz will be able to sense the Egg. Its magic will make it stand out. We shall follow him there. Any that try to stop us must die,’ the Fearpriest declared.
‘And what of the dragons?’ Gello demanded. This was the one thing he had feared. Yes, they had no alternative and yes, Onzalez was supremely confident, but Norstaline history was rich with stories of the power of the dragons. Certainly, if mere goblins could capture one and almost kill it, they could not be all-powerful but still…
‘The dragons will do nothing. They spread tales of their ability but they never do anything. How many times did the dragon swoop on our men during the invasion of Norstalos? And not once did it actually kill a man! Besides, I can only sense one dragon on the island. The rest must be away,’ Khaliz reported.
‘They will not be expecting us,’ Onzalez said confidently. ‘And anyway, we must have that Egg. Better to die taking it than waste away, doing nothing.’
Gello paused at that, but even the thought of seizing some barbarian kingdom somewhere was a pittance compared to Norstalos. He would always be complaining about the throne he should have had. He had to do everything in his power to get it back. ‘So we take the Egg and any food and women we can find!’
‘We shall make land within a few turns of the hourglass,’ Khaliz predicted.
‘What? Why don’t we set sail?’ Gello snorted.
‘The wind and current are against us. The men are having to work hard on the oars to get there,’ Khaliz explained. ‘I can do nothing against either—the power that propels them is far beyond me. Luckily these Tenoch ships have those oars, or I doubt we could ever get there.’
‘Well, I want two companies of men spared the oars. We shall need them for the assault.’
Martil carefully lay the Dragon Sword down on his clothes. With no Karia or Havell around, he planned to leave off the Elfarans’ swimming outfit and swim as Aroaril intended. The sun felt good on his skin—and the water felt even better. His skin had begun to turn a darker colour from being out so much, although that just highlighted the many scars criss-crossing his arms, legs and body. So many that he had forgotten how he had come by some of them. But the warm water seemed to help the fresher ones and he planned to laze in the water before strolling back to the hall and joining Karia for the noon meal.
Karia liked the Elfarans, even though they weren’t like the elves she had read about in the sagas, and they still stubbornly insisted there were no fairies or talking rabbits on this island. She knew there were magical animals here—they must be shy. As for the Elfarans, they looked young enough but they acted funny, like the oldest people she had ever known, very quiet, reserved and gentle. There were no women or children—apparently they had lived without women or children here for a thousand years or more! Karia found that hard to believe, but Martil had told her it was probably true—and he had not even laughed when he did so, to tell her it was just a joke.
‘How come more people don’t visit?’ she asked Havell.
‘We don’t encourage visitors.’ The Elfaran had smiled. ‘You are the first in centuries.’
‘Why not? It’s lovely here!’
Havell chuckled. ‘That is the problem. Half the people of the world would live here, if they could. So the dragons set a natural protection for the island, to stop any ships that try to come near here. Uninvited people soon find that a mysterious wind and current is pushing them away from the island. Those who try to get past there receive a polite visit from a dragon and a rider. Once, we were a warrior race. We still have the old armour and swords, kept safe in a chamber at the back of the hall. We can look pretty impressive, dressed up and riding a dragon. We explain that the ship must turn around and leave—or there will be a hundred of us returning with fire and sword and none shall survive. At that point, they decide they have business elsewhere!’
‘Ooh! Can I go for a fly this afternoon? Karia asked.
Havell sighed. ‘I am sorry. But not today—or indeed, for a few days. Argurium is the last dragon.’
‘Oh no!’ Karia gasped, her eyes brimming.
‘It is all right! It is natural, a part of the circle of life. But Argurium cannot leave here—now she is the last, the end cannot be far away. That is why everyone is in their rooms, preparing themselves for the end. And there will be no more dragon flights until the rebirth. I just wish I could see that!’
Karia was feeling miserable, but she heard the sadness in Havell’s voice and reached out to pat his arm.
‘You will be able to see it, if you led a good life. Father Nott always said that death was not the end, that there was more afterwards. He said you didn’t have to be afraid.’
Havell smiled. ‘Thank you. Although I am afraid. I have lived for such a long time. So many years, far, far beyond the span of normal men. It has been wonderful—but now the end draws near, I am scared.’
‘You can be brave,’ Karia told him.
‘It is the not knowing that is the worst thing,’ Havell confessed. ‘But I should not talk of such things with you.’
‘Oh, don’t worry. Dad always says I know far more than I should do,’ Karia said breezily.
Havell could not help but smile. ‘Well, the good news is that the Egg looks better than ever today. The swirls of colour are endless!’
She gasped as he opened the door to its chamber and she saw the lights sparkling over the walls and ceiling.
‘It’s so beautiful!’
Merren woke up, and groaned. Her neck was stiff, her eyes ached and her fingers were ink-spotted after a long day of paperwork.
‘I am sorry to wake you, my Queen. But it is time to get dressed. The maids are ready to do your hair and the kitchen has sent up something to eat,’ Louise said gently.
‘They can go away for at least another turn of the hourglass,’ Merren yawned. ‘Aroaril knows what time I went to bed last night.’
‘Me either, my Queen. But you have to get up. You cannot be late for the wedding.’
Merren opened her eyes wide and rolled over to stare at Louise. Just the words made her heart sink.
‘Or you could postpone it. It is not too late…’
‘It is too late. I must go ahead. It is what the people want,’ Merren said dully. ‘Send in my maids. I must look my best on this day.’
‘As you wish, my Queen.’
Gello had been merciless with the men on the oars. He had held back a mixed company of men—the best Berellians, al
l veterans of the Ralloran Wars, the biggest eagle and leopard Tenochs and his own picked soldiers. The rest had sweated and worked to drive the ships against the wind and current.
It had soon become obvious that not all the ships could make it to the island—so Gello had transferred most of the men onto two ships, leaving the rest with a skeleton crew. Then, with three men to each oar and his hand-picked soldiers on deck, those two had been chosen to push through to the island. Already dozens of exhausted men had collapsed—but enough remained. Gello could see a large settlement that seemed to weave in and out of the hills and trees of the island. He struggled to see where it began and finished but noticed one structure that stretched out towards a small bay, so he ordered the steersman to aim for that.
‘We’re through the current!’ Khaliz reported, excitedly.
Gello felt the ship lurch, as though an anchor had been cast away—and then they were sailing straight for the bay.
‘Back oars! All men ready!’ he roared, before turning to Feld. ‘Stay on board and turn the ships around. We might need to leave in a hurry.’
‘At least the current will be with us on the way out,’ Feld grunted.
Gello nodded, then strode up to the bow. He could feel the warmth of the sun—as strong as the hottest Norstaline summer day—that set the sweat trickling down his back. But he ignored such things as the ship eased into the bay, its bow nudging into the soft, white sand.
‘Follow me!’ he called, drawing his sword and leading the surge of men over the side of the ship. But there was nobody around to stop him, so he led the men up towards the settlement. The sand coated his boots and the effort of walking up the beach to what was unmistakeably the entrance made his calves burn.
‘Sire, does it not look familiar to you?’ Ezok pointed at the entrance.
Gello glanced over it. The beautiful carvings around the doors, the way the doorway seemed to be part of the hillside—none of that interested him.
‘It looks to me like a dragon’s mouth,’ Ezok continued.
Gello looked again and grimaced as he saw the resemblance.
Word passed swiftly around the men, and they began to draw back, muttering among themselves.
‘The Egg is inside!’ Khaliz announced. ‘I can feel its magic!’
That was enough for Gello. Who cared what it looked like? ‘Break the doors down!’
Two axemen smashed down the doors and Gello followed the first rush inside.
The coolness of the hall was in stark contrast to the hot sun outside, and Gello paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust, and to enjoy the cool air.
‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’
Gello turned to see a strange-looking man, his eyes and ears and cheekbones seemingly stretched back. He was wearing a light tunic and sandals and his arms and legs were bronzed by the sun. Gello decided he must be one of those elves, that legend said lived here on the Isle.
‘Do you know where you are?’ the elf continued, advancing towards the armed men. ‘You shall leave now, or I shall summon a dragon!’
Gello leaped forwards and rammed his sword into the elf’s neck. Blood sprayed high across the wall and the elf, his strange eyes wide from the pain and shock, collapsed to the floor.
‘Quick now!’ Gello waved the others forwards.
Karia was marvelling at the Egg, enjoying playing with it. She would pass her hand close to its surface and laugh as colours sparkled and tried to chase her fingers around its curves. She imagined she could see the dragons inside it, although Havell assured her that was impossible.
‘You must love coming in here to watch it.’ She grinned at Havell.
The Elfaran sighed. ‘It has sat here for so many years without doing anything—you see its beauty and its wonder but all I see are the remnants of the dragons who were my friends for centuries—and my own impending doom.’
Karia thought about asking him more about that, then decided she did not really want to know.
‘Can I touch it?’
‘Well, perhaps. You need to be careful. It is a storehouse not just of magic but of the dragons themselves. Like the Dragon Sword, it can choose who it wants to hold it.’
Karia stretched out a hand and saw the colours flash invitingly, pulsing for her. Carefully she lay her hand on the Egg and gasped with pleasure as its warmth rippled up her arm. The Egg flashed gently and she stroked it lovingly.
Then the door burst open and a rush of Elfarans pushed inside, dozens of them, all wide-eyed and scared, some with wounds, others being helped along by their companions.
‘Invaders! They’re inside the hall, killing everyone they find!’ one yelled.
‘We must get Argurium! She can save us!’ another shouted.
‘Are you mad?’ another bellowed. ‘Argurium is the last dragon! She is too valuable to risk for our lives! We must flee instead!’
The others seemed to agree with this.
‘But what of the Egg?’ Havell shouted.
‘If we take it, they will catch us! Worse, we could lead them to Argurium and lose her as well!’
‘We cannot lose the Egg, we must defend it!’ Havell shouted. ‘The world depends on its safety!’
‘Defend it how? There are hundreds of them, all with swords and axes! We are all that are left!’ a wounded Elfaran cried.
Havell looked around wildly, while the rest of the Elfarans kept moving, hurrying towards a door at the back of the chamber, a dragon-sized door this time.
Karia climbed on top of a seat, put her fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Conal had taught her how, and she was delighted to see it got their attention instantly. She knew what had to be done here, even if nobody else seemed to. The Egg needed her and Martil and Merren had told her often enough that you had to do dangerous and scary things sometimes to save others.
‘Barricade that door! Use the benches and chairs!’ she snapped. ‘Havell, get Argurium and go and get Martil. He’ll save us. The rest of you need to get your rider armour and swords out.’
The Elfarans just looked at her, dumbfounded.
‘Hurry!’ she shouted at them, trying to use the tone of voice Martil had when he was shouting at people.
‘But what will happen to the Egg?’ Havell whimpered.
‘I shall defend it until you get back.’ She stared at him calmly. It was the obvious solution. These elves were less use than a handful of talking rabbits but she was utterly confident that Martil would be able to defeat these attackers and get there in time to save her. She could feel the power of the Egg—with its help, she would be able to hold off anyone.
Havell just gaped at her, while several of his fellow Elfarans laughed in disbelief.
‘Hurry! We do not have much time!’ Karia told them, then pointed towards the door, while keeping her free hand on the top of the warm, pulsating Dragon Egg. Instantly every chair and bench in the room flew across to pile up at the door the Elfarans had run through.
The laughter died in a moment and the Elfarans stared at her in shock until someone began hammering at the blocked door with what sounded like the hilts of swords.
‘Move!’ she yelled at the Elfarans—and they ran, or limped, for safety.
‘I shall stay with you,’ Havell said shakily.
‘Thank you.’ She patted his arm. ‘But do you think you will do any good? Getting Martil back here will be far more useful.’
‘But—’
‘Martil will save me. So get him!’
Havell nodded jerkily and joined the rush for the other door.
Karia ignored them, instead breathing deeply and carefully, calming her mind as Barrett had taught her. She was a little afraid but she knew what she could do. There was almost unlimited power in that Egg and, while touching it, she could use it without fear of exhausting herself. Nobody could fight against that. And she only needed to hold them back for a little while, then Martil would be here—and then they would run.
She let herself sink i
nto the magic, feeling for the plant life that made up part of the structure of the room, as well as for any insects that were nearby, as axes began to carve chunks out of the wooden door and her barricade of chairs and benches began to shake.
‘Get in there! Don’t give them time to escape or find a dragon!’ Gello directed men forwards. There were plenty of these strange-looking elves running around this rabbit’s warren of a place. But they died easily and fought not at all. Far from the creatures of legend, they seemed to be ridiculously weak. Not one of his men had even been hurt so far. But he was still wary—after all, this was the home of the dragons, and who knew what surprises awaited them? The dragon-sized doors and hallways were eerie, although there was no sign of the magical creatures. Gello had no intention of being at the front of the men when they did find one, however.
‘The Egg is in there! I can feel it!’ Khaliz cried.
The door surrendered to one last blow, then the axemen began attacking chairs and benches that blocked the way into the hall. There were three of them, big men in mail shirts and helms, with the large double-bladed axes that the Berellians loved to use. They made short work of the chairs—and then went flying backwards as something large and barely seen swatted them aside.
‘What is that? Get in there and destroy it!’ Gello shoved men at the doorway.
Some were struck by flying chairs and knocked down, others were knocked aside by what Gello could see were tree roots. Others screamed as armour became unbearably hot, thrashing around on the floor as they struggled to pull it from their bodies. Some slapped and scratched as insects attacked them—but none seemed able to get inside the room. Gello peered through the chaos and saw the giant Egg, as well as a small child standing beside it. As he locked eyes with her, she flicked her fingers and he dropped to the floor—as a broken chair whistled above him and smashed into the wall behind.