by Alex Sapegin
“No, she hasn’t come back,” the dragoness snorted. “I left her a beacon, but she never gave the signal.”
“Targ!” Andy growled.
He beat his wings all night. The flock he’d gathered reached its new home only when dawn was breaking. But they were already waiting for them. Daddy, it turns out, knew Gray, and volunteered to accompany the newcomers to the caves they had prepared for them. Andy was standing around with nothing to do. He wasn’t used to everything happening without him. Circling around his home cave for a while, he flew to Jaga’s house, but his adoptive mother wasn’t there. Strange. And the mysteries didn’t stop there.
The grass near the house distinctly smelled of a female, a mature, attractive female. The scent did not belong to the red dragoness; Lanirra had a different scent. After waiting for over an hour, Andy flew to Lani. In response to his innocent question—where’s Jagirra?—the dragoness lowered her head to the ground and answered that Jaga was gathering herbs and had asked not to be disturbed until evening. As in, she wanted to talk to him herself that evening, and before that, there was no way.
What Targ-some herbs could they be? What was she up to? What kind of herbalist would be gathering herbs now? Andy pressed his would-be wife, but couldn’t get another word out of her on the topic. The dragoness simply kept insisting that she was gathering wild herbs. The orc women who happened to be nearby were no better. It was some kind of conspiracy! Andy, spitting in a fit of anger, asked where Frida was. The answer was disappointing: not here. A week ago, Lani had flown her to the vampires, and they hadn’t heard anything from her since.
“I don’t believe for a minute that you didn’t cast some sort of spell on her,” he said to the dragoness.
“What do I need her for?!”
“Don’t lie,” he growled. Lanirra took a few steps back. “Tell me!”
“What do you see in her?”
“None of your stinking business! Tell me! I got to know you a little bit. You’ve got a reason behind everything you do.” The dragoness sputtered. “Well?”
“Curse her!” Lani cried in Eddy. “You have me, what else do you need?”
“Hold your tongue,” Andy answered. “You’re not my wife.”
“Idiot!”
“I’m tired of arguing,” Andy unexpectedly calmed down. “What tracking spell did you put on Frida?”
“I didn’t,” Lanirra said quietly. And just then, a small handkerchief blew his way: “I hope you choke on it. Her blood is on the kerchief. Find her yourself.” The dragoness lifted straight up off the ground and flew into the sky like a firework.
“Il, will you help me?” he asked the warrior.
“I’ll help. Give me the handkerchief.”
***
Andy was flying toward Rimm for the third hour now. Ilnyrgu had cast a tracking spell on Frida’s blood and assembled something like a compass. She glued an arrow to the small bit of fabric with the dried drop of Frida’s blood, the sharp end of which pointed in her direction.
“That’s it?” Andy was surprised at how simple the device was.
“That’s it,” the orc said.
“Hm,” Andy snorted skeptically. How does a device like that work?”
“Follow the arrow. It’ll point directly to the vampire. If you can wait three or four hours, I can make a map.”
“We don’t have time.”
“Well, sorry.”
Forgetting to take off his clothes, Andy changed hypostasis. Bone buttons flew in every direction.
“Targ!” he swore. He regretted losing the outfit. He grabbed the “compass” and repeated Lanirra’s maneuver.
The “compass” pointed in the opposite direction of the vampires’ enclave. The wonders of this crazy day never cease.
Below, the age-old taiga drifted by, along with white clouds, scratching the tops of a giant sequoia. Rare villages and towns flashed here and there; the yellow road crawled on as an infinite serpent. Becoming pensive about the upheaval that was walloping him from all sides, he overtook a merchant caravan stretched across a village. Diving into a cloud, Andy looked at the compass. The arrow turned one hundred and eighty degrees. The caravan!!!
***
“Archers, prepare your bows!” R’ron cried. Frida grabbed her bow from her quiver, twisting, rested one end against the saddle, pressed the string-less weapon against her shoulder and began to put the string on. Once she had assembled her bow, she straightened her quiver and ran her fingers over the arrows’ feathers. She was ready.
What in Ilanta? The young woman switched to true vision and examined the woods abutting the road. Not a single speck of human aura for two hundred feet around.
“Halt!” Obeying the command, the carts began to come to a stop. The merchants and servants quickly installed large shields along the sides. So suspicious. Then again, they’ve been there, many times. Swords rustled as they came out of their sheaths.
“What is it?” Rur asked, running up from the tail of the caravan. His father was going to give it to him good for leaving his post.
“I don’t know,” Frida answered.
“My father’s being an idiot.”
“I don’t think so….” Frida never got a chance to finish her sentence. The communicator amulet on her neck began to vibrate.
“Frida, come to the head of the column,” R’ron’s voice came through the artifact.
The vampire spurred her hass. Consumed with curiosity, she galloped past the wagons and upset people. Twenty yards before she reached the head of the caravan, she suddenly felt a terrible pinch in her temples. Nel intercessor…. How quickly her arms went limp and her heart began to pound! Over the lead wagon, hovering in the air, tied up tight with magical fetters, was the caravan boss. Fat Merdus was jerking his legs; his eyes, nearly popping out of his head, turned this way and that. Fifteen feet away from Rur’s father stood Kerr.
***
“Frida!” Andy cried with joy. Then he immediately went on his guard. The girl went pale as a morning fog. What was wrong with her? He got the feeling she wasn’t happy to see him. “Hello!”
“Fly away, Kerr,” she said, jumping down from her hass and walking up to him, then stopping about a meter away.
Well, that’s a nice “hello” for you!
“?!!”
“Go away, Kerr.”
“What are you saying? Fri...”
“Listen to me,” his girlfriend interrupted him. “Leave me alone.”
Another hass stopped behind her. The saddle creaked quietly.
“You?” Andy’s eyebrows slid upwards. A crack appeared in his stony self-control.
“Yes, me,” Rur answered and stood next to Frida.
“I thought you would be trouble from the start. Is this your doing?”
“Yes, it is,” the red-eyed half-blood smiled.
“We’re married, Kerr.” Frida lifted up her sleeve, showing the spousal bracelet. “Rur’s my husband.”
“Why?” The were-dragon’s surprise knew no bounds. “Why??”
“I’m a ‘dry branch,’ haven’t they told you?” Frida started to cry. Rur tried to hug his wife, but she pushed him away.
“A ‘dry branch.’ It’s better this way than watching Lanirra take care of you. You’re a dragon, and what am I? A free-loader? How long could I last with you? One hundred, two hundred years? Go away, Kerr. Leave me.”
“But...”
“LEAVE ME! If you love me, leave me alone. Please.”
“Alright.” The yellow pupils appeared in his blue eyes. An evil smile came across the were-dragon’s face. Frida got startled.
“Please, don’t touch Rur! Promise me. I won’t ask you anything else.”
“Alright, I promise.”
Andy turned away. When he again turned to the girl, her face was pale as death. There wasn’t a drop of blood behind it. It was a frightening face. A cloud of strength billowed around the were-dragon. If he had his way—nothing would be left of the entire cara
van.
“If I wanted to, I would have killed your wretched little husband and the head of the guards a long time ago.”
“The commander of the guards is my husband’s father. His name is R’ron.”
“They call him ‘davur.’ Remember me?” Andy said to the tall vampire, who shook his head. “Maybe you remember a double notrium cage with an old orc shaman woman and a boy? I see you do. Tell your son and his bride that you were transporting prey. Thank Frida that you’re still alive! And you,” an invisible grip brought the numb Rur right up to Andy’s face. Two magical arrows fired by someone in the guards clapped powerlessly against the defensive cupola he’d erected. “If you hurt her, you’ll curse the day you were born. Got it?”
Andy threw Rur down and walked up to the vampire.
“Be happy. I know why you agreed to marry him, no matter how funny it sounds.”
“Why?”
“This boy reminds you of me! Goodbye!”
Andy changed hypostasis right in front of the entire caravan and shot into the sky. The caravan boss, free from the fetters, collapsed to the ground.
The Marble Mountains. The Valley of a Thousand Streams…
Kerrovitarr appeared seven hours after his departure. The celestial body had already risen long past midday. The members of the small band had managed to rest and take a nap after the long, sleepless night.
Gray, who had never yet laid on his side, and Sonirra, a green dragoness, were busy checking out the caves prepared for the newcomers, which were located on the southern side of the Bowing slope. The ancient dragon often came running out to the rocky ledge. He felt troubled. His unexpected student, of whom he’d grown quite fond over the last week, might do something stupid. Or maybe he was wrong to worry, just getting all bent out of shape over nothing…. In old age, you become overly suspicious about everything, but Kerr’s skirmish with the red dragoness did not bode well. Lanirra was a beautiful girl. Gray, busy with examining the cave and cleaning out the remaining debris, could not ask the Master of the valley to clarify what connected the two. The old dragon made a mental note: he needed to talk to Karegar as soon as possible to clarify the disposition. Something was wrong and something wrong was happening in their new home. He could feel in his gut that things weren’t as rosy as Kerr had described. A certain tension was hanging in the air.
Larigar did not like the way Lanirra was acting. She was demonstratively presenting her rights to his student. Without a prick of conscience, the red dragon was taking advantage of Kerr’s ignorance of the dragons’ customs. On the other hand, it’s his own fault. He shouldn’t have taken her children under his wing and given the mother hope—or was he hoping that she would like one of the recently arrived males? It was a logical thought. The boy was more cunning than some people thought. If he was counting on her taking a shine to one of the new males, then his scheming would be one hundred percent justified. Vitgar and Romugar walked in front of Lanirra, who was helping to clean out the cave, like puffed-up peacocks. They arched their necks and lifted the crests of their wings; everything short of cooing like doves. He was afraid they might start fighting. Didn’t the red lady have any restraint?
Gray once again went outside, opened his wings and lifted himself up a bit on his hind legs. A dark shadow covered the old dragon for a split second. His belly almost touching the tips of the pines, Kerr flew over the slope. His student, without stopping, rounded a small hill and disappeared behind the tops of the trees. When she saw the sparkles of the crystal dragon’s wings, got ready to fly off, but Gray stopped her.
“It’s not worth it. Wait a bit.”
The dragoness hissed.
“Alright, whatever you say,” Gray said softly, “but I would definitely not recommend approaching him right now.”
Lanirra roared and laid her head down in resignation. She could admit that the old dragon was right and was her senior. She managed to catch a glimpse of her beloved’s uncovered aura, which was flashing with bright red, clearly the red of a rage. The dragoness twitched her tail happily. The little human had really made him mad. The two-legged girl had lost. Lanirra hadn’t left her half a chance. Folding her wings sweetly, she went into the cave.
Gray, following the self-satisfied woman with his eyes, thought hard. She was wrong to try and hope….
***
With a total lack of concern for decorum and for the village ladies whispering in the dense bushes, his hands folded behind his back, Andy, like a pendulum, paced along the wide sandy beach near the place where the streams that originated in the hot geothermal springs fell into the lake. Thirty steps to the streams, thirty steps to the black boulder, and back again.
It’s all cursed! Everything! Three times cursed! Four!!! The giant boulder caught by magical fetters flew a hundred yards and disappeared into the depths of the lake. Slight ripples ran all the way to the shore from the spot where the innocent stone had fallen into the water. They helplessly licked the golden sand of the beach and disappeared into the still surface. Small branches cracked under the feet of the beautiful girls as they took to their heels. Following the fading auras with his eyes as they ran off, Andy sat his bare buttocks on the warm sand and hugged his knees.
What rotten luck. Unlucky in love! What can a guy do to get a good death or a good relationship around here?
He was certainly unlucky in love. Polana, Irma, now Frida… who else? Lanirra, nothing but problems there, too, but that’s a different story. More like she was the one brokenhearted for him.
Frida…. Andy jumped to his feet and, for the hundredth time, paced the well-beaten path. Stream, turn, a hole, what was left of the black boulder. What hole was left in his soul from this, and how many were there in all? Did he love the vampire? Probably… or no? If he loved her, why then did he leave her with that black-haired jerk? Frida was fine, but…. The fire of love died on the School shooting range. All that was warm and stunning, all that was between them, was preserved in the form of bright, unforgettable memories. Miduel, why did you bring us together again? Seeing her again was more like an attempt to rekindle a dying fire—ash flying everywhere from the burnt up logs and feelings, the coals crackling, but not giving off any heat. It wasn’t love; it was a zombie raised by a necromancer. Frida felt this. Her fire was still burning bright. It was a shame that he was just a “painted fireplace,” so to speak. And it wasn’t her fault. He couldn’t give Frida what she deserved. He had too much going on, and Lani did everything she could to end their mutual journey.
He did not suffer from the same incredible passion for Frida that he had for Polana. He didn’t feel puppy-dog joy from the very sight of her, but he did feel the warmth of being at home. He did….
A “dry branch.” The dragoness had probably enlightened her on the details of the were-dragon’s reproductive potential and was rude to her about it. Karegar and Jagirra were possibly brought into the discussion. He was almost sure that Lanirra had reminded her of his adopted parents and picked on Frida every day, wearing her down like a stone made smooth from water.
Andy stopped and dug into the sand with his foot. What was wrong about his last meeting with her? On the road, he didn’t pay attention to the obvious signs; now they were impossible to miss.
False. Frida was lying. He didn’t have her sharply developed empath abilities, but he could catch tones of bile and the unpleasant aftertaste of a lie. The vampire did not love the red-eyed half-blood. She didn’t love him, but she preferred to be with him. What made her do that? A duty to her family or her clan? She was convinced of what she was saying; you can’t force someone to speak with conviction. She went to him because the boy reminded her of him. Had she decided to replace him with a substitute and forget? It was hard to believe, too obvious. There was something else, something imperceptible, that was hiding the former Frida, keeping her from him. It was in the conversation. Strange that her head wasn’t hurting. Who was behind that? He hadn’t put up any shields, and he was overflowing with feeling
s… Lanirra and Jagirra, who had a hand in this? Is that why Jagirra disappeared the first day of his return? To give him a chance to blow some steam? Then her son, once he’d cooled off, wouldn’t be tossing accusations right and left. It was just like Jaga to do something like that. His adoptive mother was always acting wisely.
Andy chuckled. He would surprise the elf. He could only hope that no one, not the she-wolves or Lanirra, would blab about his third hypostasis. It should be a pleasant surprise.
Andy sat on the sand and stayed there for a long time, disconnected from the world, not thinking about anything.
He had to let off steam, cool off, and then understand himself and everything that was piling up on him. On the other hand, he obviously did not need the girl anymore. She had talked about her duty to her family and clan a long time ago. What an interesting boomerang! He’d created his clan with his own hands and wings, and he couldn’t disregard their best interests. His duty to his winged tribesmen was crushing him to the state of a stingray or flounder. Whoever wrote that song about kings being all-powerful was truly wise. They are, except when it comes to love. Amour wasn’t for them. Kings couldn’t deal with pink lovey-dovey and romantic reflections. Real kings, anyway.
Well isn’t this just a witches’ shindig! Enough shedding tears over what might have been. He was way too busy for that—his to-do list was a mile long! He had to begin and to finish. Soon they would be expecting guests in the valley, welcome and not very welcome. Are all those hundreds of griffons scouring the mountains for nothing? The Rauu had decided to violate the status-quo. Andy had to put forth a lot of effort to maintain the “sliding” curtain of invisibility when they flew over the pairs and threesomes of air trackers. With a search group like that, the discovery of a hidden valley flows from a hypothetical question into the practical plane. In the final analysis, there’s still time. How soon will we be discovered? The Icicles will not leave the dragons alone. The High Prince will try to enlist the support of the Lords of the Sky, and given that the war with the Arians is not far off, the iron-clad arguments in favor of the Northern Alliance will come into play. Targ take you! There will be no dragons on any side!