A Keeper’s Tale: The Story of Tomkin and the Dragon

by JA Andrews

  “Damaged while traveling?”

  Mags nodded “I was so furious, I opened the door and told her…Well, I told her I wasn’t going to the ball.”

  Tomkin stared at her. Mags stared at her own fingers.

  “That’s what you said to her? You said worse things to me when I stepped too heavily on the floor of the keep.”

  She whirled on him. “That’s because you were stomping around like a big, fat oaf!”

  Tomkin smiled and raised an eyebrow. “See?”

  Mags shot him a glance that started as a scowl, but soon a little smile crept into it. “What I really said was the only reason I would ever want to be near her again, was if there was a storm, I could hide under her nose and stay out of the rain.”

  Tomkin burst out laughing and Mags smiled wider.

  “And then I told her my dearest wish was that someday, every one of the girls that were surrounding her would grow a backbone, just as I’d needed to, and tell the world how horrible she was. Especially the king. And I hoped one day, her outside would be as hideously ugly as her shriveled little soul.” Mags gave a little lift to her chin.

  Tomkin laughed hard enough his head started throbbing. “What did the other girls do?”

  “I don’t know. I wanted to slap Ellona so badly—I just slammed the door in her face. I hate that girl.”

  Tomkin held his head to try to stop the pain, even as he kept laughing. “I can see why. And I’m sorry I said anything about her.”

  Mags shrugged. “It’s not your fault. Everyone loves Ellona. She keeps her circle of girls small so she can control them, and they’re the only ones who know what she’s really like.”

  “So she’s the one who started the Dragon Lady Lissa name?” Tomkin guessed.

  Mags winced. “I guess. Before the week was out the name had already reached Greentree.”

  “What did your father do? He didn’t just stand by and let the name spread, did he?”

  Mags shrank a little, her eyes pointed at the fire. “He probably thinks I deserve it.”

  “What?” Tomkin demanded. “You didn’t tell him what happened?”

  “He came by my room, furious. Ellona had told him I’d been acting petulant all day, and when she had sent a lady-in-waiting to help me prepare for the ball, I had slapped her and sent her away. Then I’d declared I didn’t want to go to the stupid ball and spend the evening with the simpering fools who were only there to impress the king.”

  Tomkin sat very still.

  “I’m sure he thinks I said that and I was talking about him, but those were Ellona’s words. He was furious. Said Ellona had tried to cover for me, but the king had pulled the true story out of her. The king was not pleased. He’d told my father we were free to leave court, and he would send a messenger with his decisions regarding the other dukes.” Mags picked up a stick and prodded the fire. “The king ruled against my father, of course, so he had to pay them a ridiculous sum of money.”

  “Did you tell him about the serving girl? And the dress?”

  Mags shook her head. “You don’t understand. My father can’t even mention my mother without tears. I couldn’t bear to tell him the dress was ruined.

  “I’ve been trying to make it up to him ever since. But I just can’t. I’m his oldest child and I’ve taken on more and more responsibility, but I know if I stay, I’ll just do something like that again. I don’t think I’m welcome at court any longer, and I don’t think my father trusts me the way he used to. He’s quieter and tells me less.”

  She stopped talking, and the sounds of the rain and fire filled the silence. Tomkin sat still, not knowing what to say. It was Mags who finally spoke.

  “So that is why I’m here. I had planned to leave home long before I heard I’d been betrothed to you. I know my father was just finding a way to get me out of Greentree, but honestly, a marriage to Marshwell isn’t really good for our family. I’m guessing none of the more influential houses are willing to take me, seeing as how the king and Ellona don’t like me.

  “It had nothing to do with you, Tomkin. I didn’t want my father to make a bad arrangement just to tuck me away somewhere out of sight. So I left. And now he can get on with doing the things Greentree needs, and maybe news will get to the capital and the king will approve of my disappearing.”

  14

  The rain had lessened, and by the time Mags was done it was, not gentle, exactly, but the fury had blown out of it.

  Tomkin looked into the fire. “I think you should have told your father.”

  Mags rolled her eyes. “Of course I should have told him. But it’s a little late now, don’t you think? What’s done is long done, and it’s time to move on.”

  “You don’t really think living here,” Tomkin gestured around them to the crumbling walls and puddles, “is the answer to your problems, do you?”

  Mags’ lips drew into a thin line. “We’re not talking about this again.”

  “I just think if you want to run away, pick someplace better. Go to the Scale Mountains. There are deserted forts and castles all over there from the years when Queensland and the nomads were at war. Surely you could find something there better than a ruined castle stuck halfway up a cliff and inhabited by a dragon.” He tried to keep down his irritation. How could she think coming here—

  Tomkin turned towards her. “How did you get here? Did you come up from the river? I didn’t see another boat. Do you know of another way in?”

  Mags shuddered. “No, I didn’t come by the river. I hate boats.”

  “What is there to hate about boats?”

  “They sink. And then you drown.” She seemed serious.

  “Boats don’t sink very often, and if they do, you just swim to shore.”

  She shook her head. “When I was little, there was this lake, and my foot got caught in the reeds at the bottom….” She clenched her eyes shut. “I don’t like boats. I don’t like water.”

  “You realize this castle is set between a lake and a river?”

  She cracked her eyes open and Tomkin was surprised to see she was terrified.

  “Okay.” Remember not to talk to Mags about water. “Then how did you get here?”

  “I rode on Vorath’s back.”

  Tomkin’s jaw dropped open. She had ridden on a dragon? Climbed on that scaly back and, what? Held on to his neck? She gave him a smug little smile.

  “I met him across the river. I had been admiring this castle from the top of a hill, wondering how I was going to get to it without having to cross that horrid river, when Vorath flew out of the sky.

  “I was so shocked, I froze. It was early in the morning and the hills were still in shadow, but he rose up into the sunlight and shone so bright, I thought he was on fire. He’d circled a time or two, lazy and effortless, before seeing me. When he did, he flew above me. He was so fluid, like a snake or an eel.

  “I’ll admit that was frightening,” she looked at him earnestly. “But also beautiful. Mesmerizing.”

  Tomkin thought of the scales in the great room when he first saw the dragon. The ripples of dark and light fire that had raced across the scales while the dragon slept. He nodded.

  “I knew he was going to eat me, of course, and it was a sad thought, in a very detached way. Because wonder and terror were both trying to take over and that didn’t leave much room for a quiet little thing like sadness. But if this was going to be my end, I was at least going to meet it bravely.”

  He could picture her, tiny before the enormous dragon, her chin lifted, looking as imperiously at the dragon as she always did at Tomkin.

  “I did have to clasp my hands together to keep them from shaking. He was bigger than I expected. He landed around me and curled himself into a circle, surrounding me. Then he just sort of looked at me.”

  Tomkin thought of the flat, yellow eyes staring. “He does that.”

  “I decided it couldn’t hurt to be polite, so I greeted him with a formal curtsey. I was surprised when he talke
d to me with that think-talking he does.” She cocked her head slightly. “Did you know he can talk? I forgot you were rude when you met him.”

  “Yes,” Tomkin shuddered. “Echoes around my head, like I’m in a dark, creepy cavern.”

  “Your head is a lot like an empty cavern.”

  Tomkin whirled toward her. “It is not!”

  She was smiling, the first real smile she’d directed at him. At his scowl, she laughed, a clear, bright sound.

  “Vorath and I chatted for a bit. He asked if I had been looking for him, and I explained I was just looking for a nice home. I introduced Wink to him, too, who was not pleased to appear in front of a dragon. I don’t know why, though, since he can blink out whenever he wants to.”

  “Where does he go when he does that?” Tomkin asked.

  “Never far. Sometimes he just turns invisible and stays there. Or he can sort of hop about thirty paces in any direction in an instant. So he could have escaped easily enough. Vorath was very interested in him, of course.

  “Eventually we agreed Vorath was in possession of a castle and I had the means to fix it, so maybe we should work together. You see, he only wants a place to live, unbothered by people. I pointed out that maybe I could get him his own herds, and we could keep them on the hills, which are almost entirely deserted. That way he wouldn’t have angry farmers calling for his blood every time he got hungry.”

  “Are you going to sheer his sheep for him, too?” Tomkin asked. “He doesn’t like the taste of wool.”

  “I’m sure he can deal with that problem himself,” Mags said primly. “You can tell from his eyes he’s intelligent. He’s quite lovely and friendly, too.”

  Tomkin felt another twang of pity for Mags. She believed what Vorath had said. He tried to keep his voice kind. “I saw Vorath before the storm began.” Shutting his eyes to block out the memory of the torn sheep, the terrible crunch of Vorath’s jaw, he continued, “He’s going to kill me tomorrow morning Mags. Not here. I don’t know where. Somewhere where it will be some sort of example.”

  Mags’ eyes narrowed. “He told you that?”

  Tomkin nodded. “He’s intelligent. But he’s not kind. He’s just trying to manipulate you into helping him.”

  Mags turned away.

  “Which is why we need to leave. I saw a trail going up the cliff. I think if we can find the way out the back of the castle by the lake, we can reach it and—”

  “I’m not going with you.” Mags crossed her arms. “Wink and I will be fine.”

  Tomkin glared at her stubborn face with its stubborn scowl and its stubborn little chin. “Fine. Stay here. Get eaten. I don’t care. Honestly, having Lissa of Greentree mysteriously disappear does solve at least one of the problems in my life.” Tomkin thrust himself up, away from the wall, intending to stomp away from her and her irrational stubbornness.

  Instead, as he stood the world slid sharply to the left, the fire flashed bright, and the floor buckled.

  Then Mags was under his arm again, pushing him upright. “That was stupid.”

  “Shut up.” He wanted to shove off her in disgust, but her shoulder was the only part of the world that wasn’t moving.

  “Sit back down,” she snapped. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere.”

  “I’m getting out of here,” Tomkin said. “Before your dragon friend kills me.”

  Mags sighed. “How?”

  “Down the stairs in the courtyard—”

  “In the bailey.”

  “Whatever. Down the stairs to the great hall. There must be other rooms down there along the back of the castle. The cliff path goes that direction, so there must be a back door.”

  “What are you going to do, just tiptoe past Vorath holding your breath? Didn’t you try to sneak up on him once already?”

  “This is different.” Tomkin pushed away from her and stood on his own. The room only twisted a little before settling down. He took a deep breath of the cool night air. Besides the fact that the light from the fire kept stabbing into his brain, he felt alright. “I don’t have a lot of time. Either come with me or sit down and leave me alone.” He took one step forward and stopped at the wave of dizziness washing over him. He focused at the doorway across the tower, waiting for it to stop shifting.

  Mags huffed in exasperation. “Fine. I’ll help you so you don’t kill yourself just walking across the bailey. But I refuse to be a part of this. If you want to irritate the dragon, that’s up to you. I’d rather stay on his good side.” She stepped up next to him and slid under his arm again.

  She felt very solid there. Small, but solid. The rest of the room was still slightly off, but he concentrated on the feel of her shoulders beneath his arm and things began to steady. Tomkin grunted and they started forward.

  The whole process was a series of little jolts and tugs, with Mags shoving at him and the castle stretching and shifting so his feet kept hitting the ground at unexpected times. The first time his step landed with a stomp, Mags let out a giggle. Two steps later the ground rushed up to meet him again and Tomkin’s foot hit with a jarring thud. Mags’ shoulders began to shake. He looked at her to see her lips pressed together, trying to keep from laughing out loud.

  “What?” he demanded.

  The laugh burst out of her. “I thought we were trying to sneak around. You’re stomping like an ogre!”

  “I can’t help it,” he said, just as his other foot slammed down onto a stone that had seemed much farther away.

  Peels of her laughter echoed off the tower walls. Tomkin growled slightly, but didn’t dare shift his arm off her shoulder.

  When they stepped out into the rain, it had lightened to a drizzle. The cold water cleared his mind a little bit. Together they stumbled their way out of the tower, into the bailey and to the stairs leading below.

  Once there had been a building set over the stairs, but now there was just an open hole in the ground surrounded by rubble. The steps dropped into the interior of the castle.

  “I’ll have to get Wink to fix this,” Mags said, peering at the crumbled base of a wall near the stairs.

  “Shh!” Tomkin hissed at her. The noise cut through the rain and he cringed.

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  He tugged on her shoulder and they continued. The castle had almost stopped moving until Tomkin took his first step and landed too hard on the top stair. It was as though he jarred the castle awake again and it was trying to dislodge him. He stood, clinging to Mags’ shoulder, waiting for the motion to stop.

  “You should really be sitting down somewhere,” Mags pointed out, but at least this time she said it quietly.

  “I’ll sit when I’m safely away from here.” He did his best to let his irritation show in his whisper. “Let’s go.”

  They crept down the stairs, slowly at first, then quicker once there was a wall next to him to steady himself on. The stairs turned to the left and the two of them descended until they stood at the end of the great hall. It was warmer down here, out of the wind and rain.

  When Tomkin had crept in the window at the far end earlier, the sunlight had illuminated the dragon and the room. Now everything was black. The windows were three open maws of almost-dark past the long room of blackness. The base of the windows was jagged and Tomkin paused, trying to figure out why. When he had climbed through the one on the right earlier it had been a wide, smooth windowsill.

  Then the jaggedness shifted. It was Vorath, laid out along the end of the room, the spikes along his back silhouetted in the windows. With one single flash of lightning, the room burst into light. When the darkness returned the image stayed seared into his mind. Vorath, a dull orange, lay coiled along the end of the great room, his body stretching across all three wide windows with his head and tail circling around in front.

  Another glint of orange flashed from the floor near his tail.

  “The garnet!” Tomkin whispered. It would be so much better to leave here with the stone. And the sword, of cour
se.

  “You’re not going over there, are you?” Mags whispered.

  “It’s on the floor near his tail,” Tomkin pulled her forward. “Can you see the sword?” He led her toward Vorath’s tail, searching for the little bit of orange he had seen.

  They crept forward, the shushing of the rain helping to cover the noise. They reached about where he had seen the garnet flash and Tomkin slid gingerly to his knees, then slid his hands along the floor, searching for the stone.

  He felt nothing.

  Another flash of lightning showed it just off to his side, bigger and brighter than he expected. He groped through the blackness until he found it.

  Except whatever it was he had found was not the garnet. Instead it was flat, like an oversized, irregular coin. Fan-shaped with very small, very tightly packed ridges, it reminded him of a seashell—

  —or a scale.

  It hadn’t been the garnet he’d seen skitter across the dragon’s back when his sword had fallen. Scalebreaker had knocked off one of Vorath’s scales!

  Vorath had a weakness.

  Tomkin grabbed for Mags’ arm and yanked her close to him. Putting his mouth right next to her ear he whispered, “I’m holding one of Vorath’s scales!”

  “Then where is your stupid garnet?” she demanded, although quietly.

  “Must still be in the sword. Do you see it anywhere?”

  Beside him, Mags began to run her hands over the floor again. “I wish the lightning hadn’t stopped,” she whispered.

  As if on command, there was a short burst of lightning, yanking Tomkin’s attention to the window. It was followed by a long stutter of white light, exposing two things that froze Tomkin’s heart.

  The first was that Mags’ hand was a finger’s breadth from the sharp edge of the sword.

  The second was, immediately past the sword, chin resting on the floor and yellow eyes fixed on them in his dead, reptilian way, Vorath was awake.