Dragonsbane (Book 3)

by Shae Ford

  “Stone-ice?”

  “Yes, mutt. Parts of the mountain’s top have stayed frozen for so long that the ice has turned to stone. All of Thanehold is built atop a hill of stone-ice. It’s the one thing too dense for the wynns to tunnel beneath — the marble has healing powers!” she snapped, cutting over the top of his next question. “That’s all you need to know. Now hurry and help me find it.”

  She was being ridiculous. He doubted very seriously that a marble had any sort of power and even if it did, there was no way they were going to be able find it out in the woods. If he ever wanted to see his marble again, Griffith would have to give up his game and tell them where he’d put it. “I’ll go talk to him.”

  “You can’t.” Gwen’s voice was suddenly hard; the edges of her eyes were sharp. “You can’t talk to him. He’s too far gone.”

  *******

  Kael found Griffith inside the forge. He was sprawled upon Kyleigh’s bed, his head resting on Silas’s tawny back. The halfcat’s tail flicked sharply when Kael burst in. His eyes glowed in warning.

  So he inched carefully up to the bed. “Griffith?”

  There was dirt under his nails and the stripe of his hair was slightly damp. But aside from a few bramble scratches, the boy seemed unhurt. He stroked Silas roughly between the ears, mumbling through his grin.

  “Griffith?”

  “Walk to round it wants, Silas.”

  Kael froze. “You know about Silas?”

  A rumbling growl drew his eyes back to the halfcat. Silas’s tail flicked angrily. He wanted Kael to notice something, to pay closer attention. It was when he leaned to look at Griffith’s face that he saw his eyes were strangely empty.

  His pupils were stretched wide, as if he sat in darkness even though the morning light streamed in. He breathed heavily through his mouth — a mouth that seemed to dip constantly between a frown and a manic grin. If that wasn’t enough proof that something was amiss, Silas didn’t growl when Griffith flattened his ears.

  “Walk to round it wants, Silas?”

  His words didn’t make any sense. “What are you saying?”

  “He keeps calling my cat Silas,” Gwen said as she entered. She glanced around outside before she shut the door. “Sometimes he’ll laugh and say the cat’s naked. I don’t know why.”

  “Well, neither do I,” Kael said quickly — perhaps a little too quickly.

  Gwen narrowed her eyes. “Why would you? This isn’t your brother and that’s not your cat. The pest is out trying to make some sense of Griffith’s trail,” she went on while Kael breathed a sigh of relief. “But I doubt she’ll find anything. It looks as if he stumbled through the woods for half the night.”

  “Walk to round it wants, Silas.”

  Gwen pursed her bluish-black lips. “His words are scrambled. Gah … it just keeps getting worse, doesn’t it?” Her fingers left red lines down the side of her face. “The moment I think we’ve finally made it into the sun, Fate sends another storm.”

  Kael thought that was probably his fault. Rotten luck seemed to follow him wherever he went. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with him,” Gwen said vehemently. She stepped over and parted the stripe of Griffith’s hair — revealing the raised, purplish scar beneath the red. It was nearly as long as a man’s finger. “When he was five years old, Griffith lost his footing and cracked his skull on one of the rocks outside the castle. He shouldn’t have lived. But my brother’s stronger than he looks.

  “When he finally woke, his eyes were out of focus. His words were always mixed. Thane Evan locked him away and told our people he was ill. He never paid Griffith much attention after that. If my brother tried to speak, Evan would just ruffle his hair and say: Poor, scrambled Griff. But I didn’t give up.” Gwen’s hand pressed down firmly as she ran it across his hair. “I asked Fate for an answer, and she led me into one of the caves beneath our castle — where I found that stone-ice marble. Its powers keep him focused. As long as he has it with him, he’ll be all right.”

  Griffith had once mentioned the blue marble helped him gather his thoughts. Now, as Kael met that strangely blank stare, he found himself believing. “Why did he think I would know where the marble was?”

  Her shoulders rose and fell. “I’m not sure. Knowing Griffith, it was probably another one of his blasted tests. He kept trying to convince me about you, kept putting you through the caddocs, trying to prove that you were ready …” Her hand dragged down her face again and she let out a frustrated growl. “I should’ve listened sooner. He knew it — he could see it all along. Why didn’t I listen? Why did I have to be …?”

  She went on, but Kael didn’t hear her.

  He’d thought that the wildmen had been caddocking him for their own amusement. He hadn’t realized there’d been any purpose behind it. But as he thought about it, he realized it made sense.

  Griffith had been pushing him all along: he’d believed Kael could topple a tree, led him into his first caddoc — he’d even begged Gwen to teach him how to use his warrior’s edge. Kael realized that all the while he’d been focused on climbing the mountains, Griffith had been right behind him, pushing.

  Now he lay stark-eyed and empty upon the bed, and Kael knew there must’ve been a purpose behind it. Griffith must’ve had a reason for hiding his marble. Kael was certain he’d been intending to give him one final push … but how?

  He combed frantically through his memories, trying to think of anything that might lead him to where Griffith had stashed the marble. He remembered the last thing Griffith had said to him — about how he was determined to get Gwen to listen.

  He’d hidden the marble somewhere in the woods. He said that Kael was the only one who would know where to look …

  And all at once, he knew where the marble was.

  *******

  Gwen took one look at the Tail and snorted. “It can’t be climbed.”

  “Don’t tell me you can’t when you haven’t tried,” Kael retorted.

  She glared at him. “I have tried. I know every inch of forest around my village. Do you honestly think I would’ve let such an interesting rock go unconquered? Of course I’ve tried.” She walked beside it, tracing her hand around its perfectly smooth surface. “How high does it go?”

  Kael squinted through the clouds. “I’m not sure. You can’t exactly see — no, don’t hit it! If you knock it over, that marble’s going to go sailing into Kingdom knows where and we’ll never find it again. Honestly, don’t you think?”

  She paused mid-swing. “No, I don’t. That’s the problem. Griffith’s much better at thinking — obviously,” she added, glaring up at the Tail. “But if the others know he’s scrambled, they’ll never let him be Thane. Then I’ll have to do it.”

  Kael could hardly believe what he was hearing. “You don’t want to be Thane?”

  “That’s the last thing I want, mutt. I’m my mother’s daughter, and I want to live as she did — freely, with the wilds at my feet.”

  As far as he could remember, Gwen had never mentioned anything about having a mother. He’d begun to imagine that she’d simply hatched from the ice. “What happened to her?”

  “She was mortally wounded during a battle with the wynns. And so she grabbed their Queen by her horns and flung herself off the mountain’s top, sending them both into the icy depths of the northern seas.” Gwen smiled fiercely. “If I die half as well, I’ll be pleased.”

  Kael didn’t doubt it. But though she was mad in at least a dozen other ways, there was one thing they could both agree on: the wildmen would be better off with Griffith.

  So as he walked the Tail again, his eyes searched for weakness. His hands memorized the smooth texture of its hardened skin. The climb itself wouldn’t be all that difficult. What made the Tail such a challenge was the fact that there was absolutely nothing to grasp onto. If there’d only been some holds …

  “I have an idea,” Kael said. He waved Gwen back and stepped up
to the Tail alone. “Wait here —”

  “Not in a thousand rolls of the die, mutt. I want to see what’s up there.”

  “Well, one of us needs to survive. If I don’t make the climb, you’ll be the only one left who knows where the marble is. Think of Griffith,” he said quickly, when he saw the argument forming on her lips.

  Her scowl hardened and froze. “Fine. I hope your bones rot in the under-realm, mutt.”

  “I hope I’ll see you there,” he said back.

  He could practically feel her grinning behind him as he placed his hands on the Tail. He tried not to think about the infinite drop beneath him. Instead, he focused on the cloud of mist that covered the Tail’s top. He remembered the day when Griffith had thrown a rock up there, how so many long moments had passed before they finally heard the faint echo of it striking the top.

  There was no doubt in his mind that was precisely what he’d done with the marble.

  Kael was staring up at the impossible task before him when Roland’s words struck his ears: There’s no way to know how high it goes, or what it would take to get there … when you think about it, I suppose it’s really a question that keeps us grounded — not the height.

  If he wanted to reach the top, Kael knew he had to focus. He couldn’t climb if he was worried about the journey down. So he wouldn’t worry. He wouldn’t leave anything to chance — he wouldn’t trust the rock to give him the holds he needed.

  Kael would carve his own path.

  He dug his hand into the smooth side of the Tail, molding its flesh like clay. It curved into a hold beneath his grip. He latched onto it and his muscles tensed. They tightened around his bones and held him firmly as he reached to form the next hold. Then the next. He wedged his feet into the holds that his hands had left behind and focused on the patch of rock above him.

  The warrior and the craftsman worked together: one part of his mind carried him up the path while the other carved it out. It was an easy rhythm, like putting one leg in before the other.

  He felt the cool breath of mist on his neck and across his bare chest. White fogged his vision, but he didn’t panic. The rock was above him: he could feel it. He mapped his next move one-handed, letting his fingers see what his eyes could not — trusting his strength to hold him.

  On and on he climbed. He pulled himself up the Tail, making a way where there’d been none. He’d gotten so used to the motion, so entranced by the rhythm of the climb, that he nearly lost his balance when his hand swung up and touched nothing.

  He felt tentatively through the empty air until he came to a lip of rock. He crawled over the final ledge, dragging his knees across the earth. When he pulled himself out of his trance, he saw that there was nothing left to climb. He’d reached the top.

  Kael stood on a shelf of rock — a platform no wider than a table. Wind hissed across his ears. It whipped through his hair and tugged on his trousers, making them flap like a pirate’s sails. But that was the only sound for miles.

  Rolling gray clouds crowned the sky. They hung all around him, marching on a thousand silent, wispy feet towards the land below. Peaks of the neighboring mountains stood in a watchful ring. Their jagged white tops pierced the clouds like a set of monstrous teeth.

  He stood in the mouth of the earth. Here was another world entirely, a sight no other man had seen. Kael was alone in the counsel of the mountains.

  There was simply no grasping it. When he tried to understand, the feeling was too strong for his grip. It was a sight too powerful for his eyes. So he didn’t try to contain it. He didn’t try to take it in. Instead, he spread his arms wide.

  He breathed deeply as the wind whipped across his face. It swept by, following an invisible path across the bowl of clouds — dancing towards the silent peaks … taking the cry of his heart along with it. After a moment, Kael brought his eyes back to the platform beneath him. It was time to finish his task.

  He found the blue marble wedged between two rocks. He stuffed it deep inside his pocket before he headed back to the ledge —

  “I told you to stay put!”

  Gwen rolled her eyes as she pulled herself over the lip. “Like I’d do anything you tell me to, mutt.”

  She slipped past him, walking until the toes of her boots hung off the very edge of oblivion. Red blossomed down her neck and spread across her bare arms. Her fists trembled as she raised them over her head. Then she howled.

  Her cry echoed all around them. Kael had expected it to shatter the silence — to grate against the raw, quiet beauty. But if anything, her voice added to it. The way her howl was both sharp and deep, the way it traveled along the wind’s whipping path … that, more than anything, convinced him that Gwen belonged among the mountains.

  They were as raw and wild as she was.

  “This place reminds me of The Drop,” she said, propping her hands on her hips. “It’s what we call the back wall of our fortress. Our keep hangs over the edge of the mountain’s top, and below it is a straight fall to the northern seas. I watched the pest leap off of it, once.” Her head turned slightly, and he saw she was grinning. “I had her cornered at The Drop. She was mine for the taking. Then she spread her arms and fell backwards over the edge, growing her wings mid-fall … Fate’s fingers, what it must be like to see the world through her eyes.”

  At last, Gwen strode from the edge and took the marble from his hands. She turned it absently, its blue skin reflected in her stare. “I wasn’t very kind with Griffith,” she said after a moment. “I didn’t know if he truly would make a better Thane. My own desires drove me to seek Fate … but she wouldn’t have led me to this marble if she didn’t have some great plan for Griffith. And so she turned my selfishness into a mighty gift.” Gwen jabbed him hard in the chest with her finger. “I’ll bet even you couldn’t do that, mutt.”

  She spun around and Kael’s toes curled as she dropped over the ledge. He leaned out and saw she’d caught herself a few holds down the path.

  “Move, mutt!” she yelled when she caught him staring.

  The angle of the drop made his stomach flip. He had to take a step backwards and breathe deeply. Fear had nearly gripped him when he remembered the words Amos had spoken to him the last time he’d been stuck up high.

  It chased his fear away; it steeled his limbs. And so a small lesson he’d learned long ago gave him the courage he needed to take that first step:

  Kael had gotten himself up there. And he would get himself down.

  *******

  “I knew you’d find it,” Griffith said, practically beaming.

  After just a few minutes of twining the marble between his fingers, Griffith’s mind had come back. Kael never would’ve believed it, had he not seen it for himself.

  “Is Gwen going to fight the Man of Wolves?”

  “She is,” Kael said carefully.

  He had to brace himself against Griffith’s excited shout: “We’re going to stomp him! We’re going to topple him just like we toppled his castle, aren’t we?”

  Silas was pretending to be asleep, curled up near the head of Kyleigh’s bed. He cracked a glowing eye as Kael sat heavily beside Griffith. “You’re a brave boy, Griff.”

  “But you’re not going to take me with you,” he finished sullenly.

  Kael couldn’t — not again. He wouldn’t risk Griffith’s life or the lives of the folk from downmountain. He had a plan to keep them safe. Their battle with Titus might drag a little longer because of it, the journey up might be a little more difficult, but he could think of no better way to protect the wildmen.

  “You’re going to stay here and look after Tinnark. Gwen’s going to leave you with most of the warriors. Make sure they listen —”

  “Wait — if I have the warriors, who will you fight with?” Griffith said, with no small amount of concern.

  That was the tricky bit. He’d spent most of the journey back convincing Gwen to listen. He’d quite literally had to pound it into her skull before she would believe him. An
d he doubted very seriously if Kyleigh would be pleased. But mad as it sounded, he knew it would work:

  “I’m going to use the craftsmen.”

  “The carpenters? But …” Griffith’s incredulous look suddenly melted as he shook his head. “You’re mad, Kael the Wright. And I’m probably mad for believing you, but I do.” He smiled hard as he popped onto his feet. “Just keep my sister out of trouble, will you?”

  Kael promised he would try.

  Fortunately for Silas, Griffith didn’t seem to remember knowing his name — or anything else he might’ve discovered while he was scrambled. So perhaps it was out of relief that the tawny mountain lion obeyed when Griffith snapped his fingers and said:

  “Come, cat.”

  Kael watched as boy and lion sauntered out the door. The moment they were gone, he slumped onto the bed. He wasn’t sure how long he waited, though it was probably the weight of his dread that made the minutes scrape by. When Kyleigh finally opened the door, a cool afternoon breeze came in behind her.

  “Have you heard the good news, then? Griffith’s …” Her smile vanished when she saw him, and for a heart-stopping moment, he feared she might’ve been able to read the plan on his face. “Oh, look what I’ve done to you!”

  Kael had honestly forgotten about his caddoc wounds. He flinched when her fingertips stirred the ache from a bruise on his cheek. “They don’t hurt.”

  The fires in her eyes swelled as she traced a narrow cut on his chin. “I was horrible to you.”

  “We were horrible to each other — I just patched you up.”

  “Well, I wish you’d patch yourself up,” she growled.

  “I will … but first, I need to talk to you. And it isn’t going to be pleasant, and you’re going to be furious —”

  “You want to teach the craftsmen how to whisper themselves into dragonscale armor.”

  She wasn’t glaring, but she wasn’t exactly smiling, either. Kael swallowed hard. “And weapons. Though I … I may have already, sort of, showed them Harbinger. A bit.”