The Hearts of Dragons

by Josh VanBrakle

  Iren ran his fingers through the streams. One was hot, while the other was cold. The combination made the water in the basin perfect for soaking. “How did you do that?” he asked.

  “The pipes connect to cisterns,” Hana said, “one heated, the other unheated. Apply magic to the pipe, and you can open and close it.”

  Though he wanted to hide his chagrin, Iren knew he did a poor job of it. Maybe Hana could open and close them, but he couldn’t. Like the Kodamas, the Maantecs were a magical race. Of course they used it for everyday conveniences.

  When the tub filled, Hana touched the pipes again. The water stopped. “Go ahead and wash up,” she said. “I’ll see if I can find something for you to wear.”

  Iren shifted the sliding walls to give himself some privacy. Undressing, he slipped into the hot water. He sighed in contentment.

  While he soaked, he could hear Hana rooting around in the room. “Say, Hana,” he said, “I was wondering if you could tell me a little more about Hiabi. Walking through the city made me realize I don’t know anything about this place.”

  “What would you like to know?” Hana asked. Her voice was muffled, like she had her head in a closet.

  Iren thought for a moment. “What else can you tell me about this Melwar guy who’s in charge here?”

  Hana didn’t respond, and a moment later it hit Iren why. “Right,” he said, cringing. “What do you know about Lord Melwar?”

  “Lord Melwar has overseen Hiabi for more than a thousand years. It and Shikari are the ancestral lands of his clan. His family has ruled here for millennia.”

  “They’ve done a good job,” Iren said, “if the number of people in the city is any sign. I never would have guessed there were so many Maantecs left. Rondel told me our species was almost wiped out.”

  “Not everyone here was born in Shikari. After the war Lord Melwar opened his lands to all Maantecs. He wanted Shikari to be a place where we could live apart from the other races.” Hana paused. “Aha! This will be perfect for you!”

  Iren was a little concerned about what she had found, but the bath made him so relaxed it didn’t bother him much. On a nearby shelf, he located a washcloth and soap. “How will I speak with Lord Melwar?” he asked as he scrubbed. He couldn’t believe all the dirt that came off him. “You’ve taught me a little Maantec, but it’s not enough to carry on a conversation.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Hana said. “Lord Melwar’s traveled all of Raa and knows every language spoken on it. I’ve heard you could blindfold him and drop him anywhere on the continent, and he could find his way back to Hiabi unaided.”

  “He sounds like a great man,” Iren said. “I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

  “I’m glad. Lord Melwar is looking forward to meeting you as well.”

  Iren was washing his leg, but he stopped midstroke. “What do you mean? How could he even know who I am?”

  Hana didn’t answer. Iren was about to press her to explain, but then without warning, she pulled open the sliding wall and exposed him. Iren flushed as Hana looked over his naked body. He thought he sensed appreciation from her.

  She confirmed that suspicion a moment later when she offered him a white towel with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk. Iren’s blush deepened. He climbed out of the tub, yanked away the towel, and hastily wrapped himself in it.

  Without a word, Hana grabbed a second towel and began to dry him. As her hands rubbed against his chest, Iren’s pulse quickened. This close, he was keenly aware of Hana’s soft hair, the smooth lines of her face, and her full breasts that swelled even with her flowing kimono.

  “You know, Iren, my room is right next to yours,” Hana whispered. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other during our time here.”

  Iren gulped. “Let’s just focus on getting ready for dinner,” he said. His voice sounded high and strained.

  “As you wish,” she replied, and just like that, the moment ended. Hana hung her towel on a rack next to the tub. She then handed Iren an armful of clothes. “These should be your size.”

  Iren shifted nervously. Hana rolled her eyes and turned away.

  Watching Hana for any sign of peeping, Iren removed his towel and dressed himself. Maantec clothing would take some getting used to. The undergarment looked like a diaper, and he felt extremely awkward putting it on. The trousers—if they could even be called that—weren’t much better. They were gray, pleated, and so baggy that Iren could have sworn he was wearing a skirt.

  Hana had given him two shirts, the first a white undershirt and the second sky blue with a long v-shaped cut in the front. The blue shirt’s back bore a white stylized image of a serpentine dragon that filled most of the space.

  For Iren’s feet, Hana had selected a pair of gray socks with a notch between his second and third toes. A broad white sash completed the ensemble. Iren tucked the Muryozaki into it.

  “What do you think?” Hana asked without turning around.

  Iren walked forward so she could see him. “I look like a girl,” he grumbled, pulling at his trousers.

  Hana laughed. “In Lodia, maybe,” she replied. “Here you look like a true lord.”

  “‘Look’ does sound like the right way to put it,” he said.

  “Like I said before, just do what I do, and you probably won’t die.”

  “Grand.”

  “Keep remarks like that to yourself in front of Lord Melwar,” Hana cautioned as she headed for the door.

  Iren followed her for a few steps. Then he stopped and looked behind him at the tub and his pile of Lodian clothes.

  “Why are you dallying?” Hana asked. “Lord Melwar is not a man to keep waiting.”

  “Hana, I . . .” he paused, unsure what to say. “I want to thank you. I’m totally lost here. I don’t know what will happen with Lord Melwar, but I hope you’ll keep helping me while we’re here.”

  A sly smile played across her lips. “Of course,” she said, “anything you need.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Lord Melwar

  The socks were the most irritating part of the outfit, Iren decided as he and Hana walked through the halls of Hiabi Castle. The material between his toes itched, and he fidgeted in a vain attempt to make the socks more comfortable.

  He still wasn’t used to them by the time he and Hana arrived at a door where she said, “Remember, mimic me and don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.”

  Iren rolled his eyes. He wondered how many times she was going to give him the same advice.

  Hana slid open the door and entered. She took two steps inside and prostrated herself on the floor. Iren followed and copied her.

  The prostrated position created two problems. First, it left Iren unable to know what was happening. Second, and more important, he couldn’t see Hana, so he had no idea if he was mimicking her.

  Fortunately, Iren had only lain on the floor a few seconds before a male voice said, “Enough of that. You two are guests, not servants. Rise.”

  Iren lifted his head a sliver, just enough to see Hana out of the corner of his eye. When she stood, he got up as well and took in the room. It was large, three times the size of the one provided to him. Candles on sconces lit the walls, while coal-filled braziers illuminated and heated the center. Like Iren’s room, straw mats covered the floor, and there was almost no furniture.

  The sole exception was a high-backed chair on a dais at the room’s far end. Carvings of serpentine dragons wound around its dark wood.

  A man sat on the chair, and Iren assumed that man was Melwar. He looked in his mid-thirties, making Iren wonder what spell he must have cast to use some of his biological magic. His hair was black, and like most of the other Maantecs Iren had seen while walking through Hiabi, he had it tied in a topknot. In dress he wore much the same as Iren, but his outer shirt was a deep purple. Two circular crests adorned its front, each below one shoulder and depicting a mountain.

  “Hana,” Melwar said, his voice formal and fillin
g the space, “it has been too long. It is good to see you once more in Hiabi.”

  Hana bowed low. “Thank you, Lord Melwar.”

  Melwar then faced Iren. “And to you, Iren Saitosan, Holy Dragon Knight, I bid you welcome to my humble city and home.”

  Iren started at the direct address. He figured he should say something in return, but his mind blanked.

  A bell rang in the distance, and Melwar clapped his hands. “Well, we shall have more time for conversation later. Let us eat.”

  The Maantec lord stepped off his dais and came down to meet them. As if on cue, the room’s sliding door opened, and a virtual troop of servants entered with trays of food. Iren glanced around, confused. There were neither tables nor chairs. He wondered if Maantecs ate off the floor.

  He wasn’t far off. The servants set small wooden trays with foot-high legs in front of Iren, Hana, and Melwar. The other two Maantecs knelt and sat on their feet so that their knees stopped just shy of the trays. Hana gave Iren a sharp look when he remained standing, so he knelt as well.

  The servants next placed on each tray a bowl filled with white rice and a plate of fish and vegetables cooked in brown sauce. The only utensils were a pair of sticks the length of Iren’s forearm that sat on the far end of his tray.

  Iren examined his food with a mix of longing and disgust. It looked delicious, and the smell coming off it was impressive. That said, he had no idea how he was supposed to eat with sticks.

  He looked at Hana for guidance. She picked up her sticks and held them between the fingers of her left hand. She then deftly plucked a chunk of yam off her plate, dipped it in the rice, and popped the whole thing in her mouth. Melwar did the same.

  The technique seemed simple enough. Keeping an eye on Hana, Iren picked up his sticks.

  The piece of fish he grabbed lifted half an inch before it split and fell in two pieces back to the plate. He tried again with a radish slice, hoping it would be firmer, but it too dropped. The sticks clacked together.

  Across from Iren, Melwar stopped eating. “You have never used chopsticks?” he asked.

  Iren flushed. “No,” he said, more curtly than he’d intended. He quickly followed up with, “Lord Melwar.”

  Melwar shrugged. “Well, you did grow up in Lodia. They are so uncivilized up there. We will have to teach you. It does take a little practice.”

  “I look forward to it,” Iren said. He forced a smile.

  “You are a poor liar,” the Maantec lord replied.

  With that, Melwar resumed eating. Iren resumed picking up and dropping his food with increasingly loud and frustrating plops.

  Though the food was beyond him, drinking proved simpler. On each tray the servants set a tall, narrow, ceramic vessel along with a short, broad cup. Iren saw how Hana poured and drank hers, then followed her. The liquid was warm, and it burned going down. Iren wondered if it was alcoholic. It made him think of Rondel. She would know.

  Concerned that he might make a fatal mistake of etiquette if he drank too much, Iren kept to sips. Meanwhile, he was improving with his chopsticks. After ten minutes, he got his first bite into his mouth. It had long since become cold, but he counted it a victory.

  After that he managed better, though Melwar and Hana had to wait several minutes while he finished. The servants returned and cleared the trays with silent efficiency.

  When it was just the three of them in the room again, Melwar said, “I must apologize to you, Iren. Neither Hana nor I have been honest with you.”

  Iren glanced at Hana, but her face revealed nothing. He turned back to Melwar. “I’m uncertain what you mean.”

  “Even in this remote place, we have our information sources. You are more famous than you know. After all, you became the Dragoon.”

  “You know about my fight with Amroth and Feng?”

  “The release of a dragon and the coming of the Dragoon are rare events. The first has only happened a handful of times, and no Dragon Knight before you has ever succeeded in the Dragoon transformation. When I learned of those events, I sent Hana to find you, gain your trust, and bring you here.”

  Iren whipped to face Hana. “So it wasn’t coincidence that you rescued Balear and me in Orcsthia. You were waiting for us.”

  “Not exactly,” Hana said. “I knew from accounts of the Battle of Ziorsecth that you’d stayed in the forest, and I dared not enter that place to follow you. But I figured that if you ever left there, you would do so through Lodia. With the Yuushin Sea to the south, Serona to the west, and frozen Charda to the north, it was your only option. I did gamble that you would go south via Orcsthia rather than north via Caardit, but Caardit’s pretty remote to be a logical stopping point.”

  Iren thought back to his first few hours with Hana. “I guess that means the story you told about your parents’ farm was a lie.”

  Hana shook her head and sighed. “No. That farm did belong to my parents, and Lodian raiders did kill them as part of the civil war. What I kept hidden, though, was that I had left home a long time ago, years before you were born. I never saw my parents alive after that. Still, I knew the farm was there, and it made a convincing cover. That’s why I used it.”

  “But why cover up your identity at all?” Iren asked. “If your goal was to bring me here, why did you travel across Lodia with Balear and me? As the Stone Dragon Knight, you could have kidnapped me the minute we left Orcsthia.”

  Hana opened her mouth, but Melwar interrupted, “It was vital for her to gain your trust, and for you to come with her willingly. Had we forced you to come here, you would never have listened to my proposal.”

  “Proposal?” Iren asked. “What kind of proposal is so important that you have to go through all this maneuvering?”

  Melwar’s face grew somber. “When you came to Hiabi, no doubt the number of Maantecs here surprised you. My ancestors’ land has become a haven for our kind, but it is far from ideal. To reach us, Maantecs must either brave a journey through Aokigahara Rainforest, or they must sail along the coast through the worst storms our world experiences. I lack perfect information, but I would guess that more than half of all Maantecs who attempt to come here die along the way.”

  The color drained from Iren’s face. For all the thousands of Maantecs he’d seen in the city, thousands more had died trying to get here.

  “I have long hoped that someday, our people will not need to make such a trek,” Melwar continued. “Right now they do so because they have no choice. If they are discovered in any other nation, they are considered demons. I wish to change that. I want to see a Maantec emperor restored. Such a man could speak for all of us, treat with other nations, and find a way for Maantecs and other races to live in peace.”

  “Hold on,” Iren said, “you can’t mean . . . me?”

  “Traditionally, the Holy Dragon Knight is also the Maantec emperor. No one but you can do it. I am master of Shikari, but beyond it I have no authority. Besides, who better to lead us than the man who became the Dragoon?”

  Iren felt like he might pass out. When he’d left Lodia with Hana, he’d never expected anything like this. He’d thought he was coming here to regain his magic. Emperor of the Maantecs? It was impossible. He was no leader. For most of his life, people had shunned and hated him. He couldn’t do it.

  And yet . . .

  If the Maantecs united, he could leverage that strength to get other nations to treat with him. He could end Lodia’s civil war by backing whichever mayor seemed best. The Kodamas might even make peace with their ancient foes. After all, Minawë was their queen.

  Iren stood and steeled himself. “I’m no politician,” he said. “I’m certainly no diplomat. I’ll need a lot of help.”

  Melwar smiled and rose as well. “I have led both Hiabi and Shikari in peace for a thousand years,” he said. “What small experience I have, I am happy to share with you.”

  “Great,” Iren said. “So how do I become the emperor? Is there some kind of ceremony?”

  The M
aantec lord scowled. “You think it will be that easy? Do you think the Maantecs will just accept you? I know you became the Dragoon, but others will not have heard that tale or will not believe it. They will demand proof of your abilities. They will expect you to heal the sick and battle enemies with magic.”

  Iren winced at Melwar’s final word. There it was again. If only he could use magic, he could become the Maantec emperor. He could end Lodia’s civil war. He could create peace between Kodamas and Maantecs.

  “That’s a problem,” Iren admitted. “I can’t use magic anymore.”

  “As I feared,” Melwar replied. He put his thumb and index finger to his forehead. “When I heard you had become the Dragoon, I suspected that might happen.”

  “That’s why I journeyed all this way,” Iren said. “Hana told me you were her teacher, and that you were the most knowledgeable Maantec when it came to magic. Can you teach me how to use it again?”

  “It is not a matter of education,” Melwar said. “It is an anomaly in your body.”

  “Then can you heal it?”

  The Maantec lord shook his head. “No one can heal you.”

  Iren’s hands fell to his sides. His gaze dropped to the floor. “Then this trip was pointless. I’ll never use magic again.”

  “No one can heal you,” Melwar repeated, ignoring Iren’s outburst, “because you are not injured.”

  “Of course I’m injured!” Iren cried. “Maantecs are magical beings. Everything here, even taking a bath, requires it. How can I not be injured?”

  “Do you know why you cannot use magic?”

  What did that have to do with anything? Iren opened his mouth to tell off the annoying man for not getting to the point when Hana jumped up and shot him a panicked look. Forcing down his frustration, he said, “The Dragoon’s magic was too powerful. It could have killed me, so my body sealed off my magic to prevent me from doing it again.”

  Melwar nodded. “Correct, and that is why I cannot heal you. What you have is not an injury, but a magical wall constructed by your body.”