Dragonsbane (Book 3)

by Shae Ford

  Elena slipped in behind him. She stood with her arms crossed, glaring over her mask at the wynns.

  Jake flexed his gloved hands in warning. “They’re such fascinating-looking creatures. I’d hate to have to blast them out of their scales. But I’ll do it. So, just … stand aside, will you?”

  An icy wind struck Kael in the face as Berwyn sighed. Frost crusted over his nose and brows, making them sting a little. The wynns have no power against the fury of the mages. We will allow the humans to pass.

  At his utterance, the wynns parted and Jake marched through. Elena’s dark eyes shone for a moment as they lighted on his back — but hardened quickly when she saw Kyleigh watching.

  Declan’s eyes were still red, and he reeked of pirate grog. His mouth hung open as he stopped before Kyleigh. “Plains mother, now I know why the manfolk called you Dragongirl. You really are a dragon-girl. Did you know about this, sandbeater?” he said, snatching Nadine as she passed.

  “I would shock you with the things I know,” was her curt reply. Then she prodded him with the butt of her spear. “Raise your heavy feet, giant!”

  When Declan did nothing but stare, Kyleigh bent and nudged him on with the tip of her nose.

  “She’s warm!” Declan exclaimed as he stumbled forward. “Most scaly things’ve got cold blood — but she’s warm! Did you know that, sandbeater?”

  “Did you know I am not above jabbing you if you do not get your giant middle out of my path?”

  “Oh, you aren’t above anything, mite!” Declan said with a grin. He scooped her over his shoulder and charged away — bursting into laughter when she cursed in her strange tongue.

  At Gwen’s command, the pirates, the giants, and the warriors disappeared inside the fortress to set up camp for the evening. The craftsmen grumbled to themselves as they stripped Titus’s beasts of their collars. They held the dragonsbane out before them and Kael could see the eagerness in their eyes. He was certain they’d have the collars shaped back into proper weapons before nightfall.

  Once the craftsmen had finally slipped through the gates, Berwyn made a request. “He wonders if you’ll speak with him, Gwen,” Kael said.

  He could feel the heat boiling off of her as she stood reluctantly at his side. “I don’t care what he’s done for the others — this changes nothing.”

  Everything has changed, Thane-child, Berwyn rumbled. You know this. You sense the mountains’ pain as clearly as I.

  Her stare hardened when Kael relayed his words, but she didn’t argue.

  Berwyn’s deep blue eyes turned to where their companions had gone. He blasted them with another frosted sigh. Humans have never climbed so high before. The mountain’s top belongs to creatures who understand its beauty, who can brave its dangers.

  “The summit belongs to the wildmen,” Gwen growled. “Sacred weapons or no, I won’t let you shove us down.”

  Wind stirred the long mat of Berwyn’s hair. Snow caught among its pale strands. I love to fight you, Thane-child. You are a most worthy foe. But for the sake of our mountains, I’m afraid our war must rest.

  He was quiet for a moment, and the other wynns began to shift behind him. They slumped to lie on their furry bellies, crossing their massive foreclaws. Kael could sense the surrender in the gesture.

  Gwen must’ve sensed it, too. Her axe slipped from her hand and buried itself in the earth at her feet. Then to Kael’s great surprise, she hissed: “I know.”

  Our refuge is wounded, Berwyn said, his voice heavy. She aches with the mages’ scar. Do not fear, Thane-child: she will heal. In time, the wilds will cover over her wounds and she will flourish once more. But while she is maimed, she will be weak.

  “Lesser humans will start coming in by the road,” Gwen said, her eyes sharpening. “War-mongers and treasure-seekers — scourge like the Man of Wolves.”

  Scourge far worse, Berwyn murmured. He dipped his great head low until he rested on his belly. We must be the rivers and the sky, the caverns and the peaks. Your people must guard her from below, and mine shall guard her from above.

  “I won’t reduce my people to living downmountain,” she spat, glaring.

  Kael thought she was being pretty unreasonable. “Well, it’s not as if the wynns can guard the bottom. If the King saw them, they’d be hunted down and chained.”

  “They want the summit for themselves,” Gwen insisted, her face burning redder.

  Kael saw Berwyn’s chest expand and threw an arm over his face in time to spare himself from the wynn’s frosty sigh. To be anywhere in the Wildlands is a gift, Thane-child. Whether it is at the mountain’s top or beneath it. We will guard our refuge with all of our strength.

  Gwen’s chin jutted out. Her eyes burned fiercely. For a moment, Kael feared she might very well take up her axe and charge. But instead, she simply thrust a finger at Berwyn and snarled: “This isn’t over, beast. One day when the mountains heal, my children’s children will take up the wildmen’s task once more. They’ll march to the summit and reclaim what’s rightfully theirs — and they’ll cast your severed head into the northern seas.”

  Two lines of very sharp, pointed teeth appeared between Berwyn’s scaly lips as he bared his grin. I look forward to that, Thane-child. May Fate grant us many years of battling to come.

  Chapter 48

  Atlas of the Adventurer

  “I still can’t believe you bothered with all this,” Amos grumbled as he shuffled around the hospital. “You knew there’d be no more Tinnark. Why waste time trying to fix something that’ll be no use to anybody?”

  For all the days they’d traveled down the mountain, Amos had done nothing but grump. He’d scowled at the snow, cursed the wind, and spat about the walk. He was a good deal crankier than Kael had ever remembered him being. And he didn’t understand it.

  “I thought you’d be pleased.”

  “Pleased? Hmph.” Amos muttered to himself the whole way back to the office. When he reached the door, he stopped. “Who in Kingdom’s name are you?”

  “Baird the Beggar-Bard!” came the chirping reply. “I speak with a voice like honey and make plain all of the forgotten whispers of the earth.”

  “Of course you do,” Amos said. He shook his head as he made his way back into the main room. “Why have you got to keep so many blasted strange folk about you, boy? Can you not have one common man in among them?”

  “They’re my friends,” Kael said — so sharply that he surprised himself. “If you’d take a moment to speak with them instead of snorting, you might find you like them.”

  Amos stared at the smoldering hearth for a moment before he slumped down onto the foot of Kael’s bed.

  He watched the furrowed lines between Amos’s brows, watched how they suddenly became shallow — and all at once, he understood. Kael sat beside him. “I miss Roland, too.”

  He’d spent most of their last night in Thanehold mourning over Roland. His tears had felt as if they slid down familiar tracks … as if somewhere deep in his heart, he’d been expecting it. They burned, but not as fiercely as he’d thought they would. Perhaps it was because Marc and Laemoth were dead that he hadn’t hurt so badly for Roland.

  Perhaps vengeance had softened the blow.

  “Roland …” The name came from Amos in a half-sigh. “You want to know why I won’t meet your friends, boy? Because there’s no blasted point in it. The moment you come to love someone, they’re taken from you. Death is all we’ve got to look forward to.”

  Kael didn’t like the far-off look in his eyes. “Grandfather?”

  He shook his head. His hand came down roughly upon Kael’s knee. “Don’t let me make you miserable. You’ve got plenty to look forward to. Love can be as healing as it is cruel.”

  His words were eerily familiar. “Have you ever heard the story of Calhamos the Healer?”

  Amos snorted, half-laughing. “The bards love to keep that one alive, don’t they? They can’t stop chirping about poor Calhamos the Half-Hearted. If they knew w
hat it was really like having to plod on with a broken heart, they wouldn’t be so quick to spew their rubbish.” His wrinkled smile fell back into a frown when he saw the confused look on Kael’s face. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re that thick, boy. Calhamos the Healer? Don’t you remember me telling you about why I changed my name?”

  “You never told me anything about that — you never told me anything about anything!” Kael sputtered. “Are you telling me that you’re Calhamos the Healer?”

  “Well I’m trying to, but you aren’t listening!”

  Kael couldn’t believe it. “How old are you?”

  “Too old,” he grumped. His eyes narrowed at the question forming on Kael’s lips. “No — no, it sounds like a decent thing, but trust me: you don’t want to live forever. And besides that, you can’t. You haven’t got the gift for it.”

  “Odd. I seem to remember a certain grumpy old man telling me I had a knack for healing.”

  Amos let out a frustrated sigh. “What would you have had me do, boy? Tell the truth?”

  Kael threw up his hands. “Yes, actually. I would rather have known it all from the beginning. I’m not a child — you don’t have to protect me.”

  “All right, then. If you want the truth so badly, here it is.” Amos reached inside his tunic and drew out a rumpled square of parchment.

  Kael only caught a glimpse of the words scrawled across its front, but that was all he needed. He knew before Amos even started reading that the letter was from Setheran.

  “Raise him, protect him. One day, Kyleigh will come for him. When she does, you must let him go. There,” he muttered, tossing the letter aside. “There’s your truth. Do you feel better about it all?”

  No, he didn’t. In fact, he felt as if he was going to be sick. “How did Setheran know? How did he know that Kyleigh would come for me? How did he know about … everything?”

  Amos snorted. “He said he stole her future. I warned him no good would come of it. There’s a reason most folk can’t tell —”

  “Wait a moment,” Kael cut in, his gut twisting. That sounded exactly like something Baird had told him. “Whose future did Setheran steal?”

  “Kyleigh’s,” Amos grunted, scowling at the memory. “He said if he couldn’t have yours, then hers was the next best thing. He said he knew she’d find you one day — and after that, you’d be tied together, or some blasted nonsense.”

  Had the bed not been between them, Kael was certain he would’ve sank through the floor. A thousand questions bounced inside his head — not the least of which being how it could even be possible to steal somebody’s future. But one question raged above all the others.

  “Why couldn’t Setheran have my future?” he whispered, though his heart moaned as if it already knew the answer.

  Amos’s brows clamped down tightly over his sharp eyes. “You were born on Death’s Day, boy. As far as Fate’s concerned, you have no future. I had every mind to fold that letter up and forget about it,” he grumped on, oblivious to the sullen ice that crusted over Kael’s heart. “I wanted you to have a normal life. But you were too different. You were too much like … him.

  “When that girl turned up in the woods, I knew it had all ended,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I made my peace with it and swore I’d see you off. That’s it. I’ve fulfilled my every promise. My task is finished.”

  Dread sank past Kael’s frozen heart and settled at the bottom of his gut. It pressed down harder as he watched Amos get to his feet. “What do you mean your task is finished?”

  “You know what it means.”

  Anger boiled up Kael’s throat. It rose, swallowing the other things that swelled inside of him: the dread, the ice — a new horror that fell as miserably as an autumn rain. “Is that all I was to you? A task?”

  Amos’s fingers curled about his shoulder. “One thing the bards won’t tell you is how I managed to survive my sorrow. There’s a price to be paid for shirking Death — calluses keep my heart together. Maybe it wasn’t as soft a love as you deserved, but it was all I had left to give.”

  He shuffled for the door, and Kael got to his feet. “Where are you going?”

  “To sleep.”

  “There’s plenty of room here,” he said, trying desperately to ignore the warning in his heart. “You can take my bed.”

  “I need the sleep that brings peace, boy.” He pulled the door open and stood, staring at the frosted ground. “I need rest that lasts an age. The woods have held your body all this time, so they ought to be good enough for your bones. That’s what Roland was always going on about. He didn’t get to take his blasted woodsman’s walk, so I suppose I’ll have to do it for him. For both of us.”

  Kael could hardly breathe. “I fought for you, grandfather. You’re the whole reason I marched back up the mountains!”

  “Well, I wish you hadn’t.”

  “Then I wish you would’ve gone ahead and given up,” Kael said back. His face burned furiously, but his tongue knew no shame. “What was the point of plodding on this last year if you planned to give in the moment I saved you?”

  “Hope.” Amos turned to watch Kael from over his shoulder. “I’d hoped that you would come into your gifts, waited for the day when all the misery we went through in this blasted little village would finally mean something … for the day when you’d prove the elders wrong. But more than all that, I lived on because I’d hoped to see you again.

  “Your father gave me a remarkable gift the day he sat you in my arms. You colored a dull world, brought meaning to years I was certain would be altogether meaningless. When I watched my son march down the mountains to face his death, you were the one thing that kept my heart from breaking … and you’ve made every beat worth the pain. I don’t care a whit for the Kingdom,” he smiled slightly, “but you’ve finally found your place, boy. And now your old grandfather can rest well knowing you’re happy.”

  Kael sat down hard. He heard the door creak, felt winter’s breath muffled as it closed.

  And Amos was gone.

  *******

  He wasn’t sure how long he stared at the hearth. Kael watched the flames chew thick branches down to coals, to cinders. One of the wildmen came by to take Baird to dinner, but Kael didn’t follow.

  There were no tears left for Amos. Even if there had been, he suspected they were buried so deeply that it might take him years to draw them out. For now, he was raw — like a patch of flesh exposed to the sun. But he would crust over eventually. Someday, he might be able to decide whether he was more furious or anguished by the loss.

  Perhaps he’d been a fool to destroy Setheran’s letter. Had he not thrown it into the flames, perhaps he might’ve spared himself some of the emptiness he now felt. But these were fleeting thoughts.

  In his heart, Kael wanted nothing more than to press on. He couldn’t erase the things he’d learned about his past, but he was determined not to let them haunt his future. After what Amos had told him, he realized that Kyleigh had probably known more than she let on. Perhaps she’d even allowed Setheran to take her future — hoping to weigh the die in his favor. But he didn’t care.

  Kyleigh could keep her secrets. He wouldn’t spend another moment fretting about his past. The prints he’d left behind would eventually fade into the sand. He would concern himself with the greener lands beyond the wastes, focus only on the parts of his story that he might write for himself.

  And there would be more to write. He was certain of it. In fact, he planned to live happily for many years to come. He was determined to live happily.

  Kyleigh slipped in a few minutes after Baird had gone. Light flooded the hospital as she piled fresh wood onto the dying flames. Three shining marks stood out in a line across her back, from where the dragonsbane arrows had pierced her armor.

  They’d left gaping holes in the scales — holes with edges that looked as if they’d been charred in flame. Kael had sealed them back the best he could, but the marks still showed.

 
Kyleigh sank down beside him. The hearth fires had roared to life under her care, crackling with hunger. He heard the sound of rumpling parchment as she pulled Amos’s letter open, silence as she read. Then her hands were in his hair, against his neck. She coaxed his head into her lap and held him tightly, draping an arm across his chest.

  After a moment, he found his voice: “Did you … see him?”

  “He’s taken his eternal rest,” she murmured. Her lips brushed forehead, and warmth spread across his skin where she touched. “I’ve never seen a man more at peace.”

  That must’ve been precisely what he’d been waiting for; those were the words his heart needed to hear. When Kyleigh whispered for him to close his eyes and sleep, that was exactly what he did.

  *******

  It was with no small amount of grumbling that the wildmen began their march downmountain.

  The snow fell lightly that morning. Thin flakes settled gently upon their packs. It covered the pointed roofs of the houses, streaked the proud beards of the Thanes guarding the Hall. As the wildmen slumped to the edge of Tinnark, the snow marked their every step.

  Lines dragged behind the prints told of their reluctance. Tiny mounds formed where their toes dug in against their fates. But their heels came down firmly. They left craters in the drifts that would take the snow hours to fill. So it was by the force of their stubborn will that the wildmen took their final steps out of Tinnark.

  Kael stood at the edge of the village as the last of his companions marched by. He allowed himself one final look at the tented homes, the hard-packed streets, and the solemn gray sky above it. The hospital sat by itself in the distance — he could just make out its long, sloping roof.

  The sleepy murmurings of the wildmen faded down the road and for a breath, the gentle fall of snow silenced the earth. Kael felt as if he was headed out to sea and Tinnark watched him from the docks. He felt as if the tiny, pointed houses waved him on — as if the Hall raised its fist and the hospital wished him well.