The Lost Endeavour

by Georgina Makalani

  “It would not be connected to us. We give it the boy’s scent, unleash it in the mountains and it does our job for us.”

  “That seems… too easy.”

  The mage shrugged. “I’ll see what can be done.” He moved through the door as though it had stood open for him.

  Thom always got the feeling the man was somewhat nervous of him, although he wasn’t sure why. In many ways, the regent feared the mage. If the man had been loyal to his brother, there would have been no chance for Thom to get as close as he had, nor be the threat that he had been. But the mage had other interests his brother would not have approved of, and Thom didn’t mind if the old man had to sacrifice a few girls to get him what he wanted.

  He turned back to the view, wondering what kind of magic the old man could release and how tight a leash he should perhaps try to maintain over it. If Ana had survived, did she have any magic left? Could she drag something from beyond as well? He shook his head. She was too young. She didn’t know what she had, if she had anything at all.

  ֍

  Ana could feel Ende calling to her, but although she stood in the forest, she couldn’t see him. Nor could she see Ed or Dray. She flexed her fingers. Her bones ached, as though the cold had stiffened her joints and her body would never be her own again. Ende called again, and in some ways, she thought he was angry.

  She had to be dreaming, like when she had seen Ende in her dreams of the Walk, because although he had heard her call that day, he wasn’t there. He hadn’t been there. The forest slipped away as she thought of the Walk, and the lord’s office grew around her in its place.

  The cold grey stone seemed to suck more of her warmth. She wondered if she was still trapped in the frozen cells of the mage, if this had all been a dream, including the warm bed, the little dragon and the cleric who had known her mother.

  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could smell the office, the sea breeze blowing through the window to the Walk, hot tea from a cup on her desk. But there had been no one in the room when it appeared around her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to look now.

  Something rustled, paper or the like. She prised her eyes open to take in the room. The breeze blew at the papers on the desk, some of them weighted down, but a sheet had floated to the floor. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to be reminded of what she had thought she had. She didn’t have anything now. Not even Ende. She looked out towards the Walk, but he wasn’t here, and she could no longer hear him calling.

  She stepped forward, her hand braced on the curved stonework around the opening. Nothing but sea and sky before her. She released her hold and stepped out. The breeze tugged at her dress, pulled at her hair. She pushed against it to stand on the end of the stone platform. A mist closed in around her, the wind died and she took another step.

  Ana didn’t fall. The ground felt soft and muddy beneath her boot, and as the mist cleared, she found herself in the middle of a battlefield. The sounds of fighting closed in around her. Shouting, screaming, clashes of metal on metal, metal on wood. An arrow flew past her, the whistle of the wind indicating how close it came, and yet it thudded into something else. Something soft. She looked into the eyes of a man before her as he cried out and fell forward.

  She looked around, trying to determine where she was and why this was important. A dark shadow flew above her, but when she looked up it was gone.

  “Ende!” she cried out, but he no longer called to her.

  Men in black armour fought around her. She couldn’t see any colours, couldn’t work out who was fighting whom. Then her desperate gaze found a man she recognised, a tall, broad soldier swinging a sword. She was taken aback by the power behind it, the determination or hatred that drove it. He turned dark eyes towards her, a bloody gash across his cheek.

  “No!” she screamed and then a hand covered her mouth.

  Ana blinked into the light, the sword master leaning over her, his hand across her face, his own features angry—or was it scared? He glanced about, and as Ana blinked her way back to this world, she glanced at the girl standing on the other side of the bed. Salima looked weary, as though pulled from sleep.

  Ana carefully put her hand over his and nodded. She gulped down the fear, her heart still beating too fast, as though she had stood in that battlefield. As she closed her eyes, she could see Dray again, his face bloody.

  “Is it Ed?” Salima asked in a hoarse whisper.

  Ana shook her head.

  “We can’t keep you hidden if you give us away.” The sword master took a step back. His fear had been for their discovery, and it had now been replaced with open anger.

  “I’m sorry,” Ana murmured. “It was a dream.”

  “A bad dream?”

  “I’m not sure what it was.”

  “You think the king in danger?” Master Forest asked.

  She shook her head, tears welling before she could stop them.

  “Ana?” Salima asked, uncertainty clear in her voice, but she didn’t come closer or look as though she might return to the sheets. As much as the girl’s father didn’t want her here, Ana was thankful for the warmth. She couldn’t feel the magic as she had before, or whatever it was that had woken in her body when she had first reached Ed, and she missed it more desperately than she thought she could. She had never wanted any gifts, and for the first time she wondered where it had come from.

  “Dray,” she murmured as the tears spilled over.

  “Your soldier?” the child asked.

  “He isn’t mine,” she said. Although she wasn’t quite sure what he was. She wondered if she would have connected to another in the same way, or if they were already connected before she had seen him there that day. Had Ende mentioned something similar?

  “What did you see?” the sword master asked.

  “I’m not sure. It wasn’t clear, and yet it was.” Ana took a deep breath and closed her eyes again, but Dray’s bloody face was burned into the world on the other side of her eyelids.

  She sat up quickly. Although the man and the child looked at each other warily across her, they didn’t move back.

  “I think I should leave,” she murmured.

  “And go where?” Master Forest asked. “You are hardly well enough to stand.”

  She threw the blankets back as though to dispute his words. But the chill air seemed to hold her in place. Would she ever be warm again? Would she ever find what she had lost?

  “If they find me here…”

  “They won’t,” he said with a sigh. “I am sorry.” He stepped forward. “You frightened me, calling out so.”

  “What do you think I can do?” she asked.

  “In terms of what?” His tone was more friendly as he indicated that she climb back into the bed.

  “Why help me? How does that benefit you?”

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You are determined to save the king,” he said, pulling the covers back up around her, although the child on the other side of the bed remained standing, her eyes wide. “That is all we hope for.”

  Ana looked from him to the girl. She longed for the girl’s warmth, but Salima remained wide eyed. Ana sat up, allowing the covers to fall away again. “You saw it.”

  Salima shook her head, then nodded. “Some. The bridge to nowhere.”

  “The Walk,” Ana said softly.

  Salima nodded vigorously. “You fell from there.”

  “Yes,” Ana whispered. “But Dray caught me. Did you see the trees?”

  “It was like where we saw Ed,” Salima whispered, closing her eyes. “But it wasn’t him calling to us.” She looked at Ana, her eyes flicking to her father. “You. He was calling you.”

  “He might have been calling you too,” Ana said softly, reaching for her, but she stepped back.

  “I don’t want to see any more.”

  Ana looked down at her hands, and then to the man standing by the bed. Now it was his turn to look scared, and he staggered, falling to his kne
es. Salima raced around the bed and took him in her arms.

  “Papa,” she pleaded, desperation raising her voice. It was enough to draw him back from wherever his thoughts had taken him.

  “Shh,” he said, holding her close. He looked up at Ana, but she didn’t know what she could tell him. He believed Salima to be the king’s daughter. He held the girl too tightly for too long, and although she looked uncomfortable kneeling on the floor, she allowed it. Then he held her out, looking her over as though for the first time. “What can you do?” he asked, a slight wobble in his voice.

  “I…” She looked up at Ana. Although Ana wanted to encourage the girl, it was for her alone to tell her father what she was. But it might be some time before she really understood it. “I freed Ana from the cell.”

  “Did you break the lock?”

  “I bent the bars.” She said it so softly, he leaned forward to hear her. “I have fire,” she said, holding out her hands to him as though that might explain it. He surprised Ana by taking the outstretched hands in his own. “Ana knew it, but I melted them.” She was somewhere between excited and scared as she relayed the story of the escape to her father.

  “And the trees?”

  She sighed and looked down. “When Ana dragged me across the kingdom to Ed, I saw it all as though I was there, like I said. But the old man looked like he saw what was inside me.”

  He looked up at Ana then, the question clearly written on his face. This was not her secret to tell.

  “And now, when Ana dreamed of him calling her, of searching for Ed, and the…”

  Ana leant forward. “What did you see?”

  “You care for him.” Salima’s face flushed as though with Ana’s emotions, or she had seen something Ana had not.

  “I care for all of them,” Ana said, wondering just whom Salima had thought of as she said it.

  “I saw the soldier’s face.” She pulled her hand from her father’s as her fingers flew to her cheek, marking the gash. Ana drew in a deep breath just to stop from crying out again. “What am I?” she asked Ana.

  Ana shook her head.

  “You have called me so many names. I thought they were in jest, but you know me, you know what I am. In the cell you said ‘dragon.’”

  “I might have said many things,” Ana said hurriedly.

  “But you knew I had fire. Do dragons have fire?” she asked her father, but his ability to speak had slipped away.

  He stared at the girl as if truly understanding who and what she was.

  “Papa?” she said, pulling at his hands to draw his attention.

  “How could that have happened? She wouldn’t have…”

  “Tell me what I am,” Salima pleaded.

  “My perfect daughter,” he said, pulling her into his arms. She gave up, allowing him to hold her again, and Ana wondered whom he shed the tears for.

  Chapter 11

  Dray woke feeling unsettled. The cottage was dark, and the king lay sleeping in the small cot against the opposite wall. His even breaths were somewhat calming. As he stared into the darkness above him, the dream disappeared, although he was sure he’d heard Ana’s desperate cry. Had she tried to reach them again?

  He sighed and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t find sleep. If she was trying to reach him, it was a sign that she was still alive. Or it was his desperate mind hoping she was, and his dreams were the only way to reach her. He threw back the blanket and swung his legs around. The king still slept.

  Pulling his boots on, Dray crept from the hut to stand in the moonlight. Something moved in the shadows. He reached for his sword, only to curse himself for his distraction. He would do Ana no good if he was killed. He had removed his armour and sword to sleep, and he hadn’t even thought to stop and collect them on his way out. He had become far too relaxed among the trees.

  The shadows moved again, and he stepped back and pressed himself to the door. Then a man appeared before him. Near Folk, not man.

  “Has he decided?” Eilke asked.

  Dray looked over the man and then shook his head. The boy had no idea. He wanted to be King because that was what he thought he should want. But he didn’t think he would make a good one, or at least that was how Dray interpreted his lack of confidence. He had no way to help the boy, and the decision could only be his. Even if he were clear on what he wanted, Dray would still be at a loss as to how they could return to the capital and reclaim the throne. And if these people were to help them, he wasn’t sure what that help would entail. They were still keen to provide tribute in the form of young wives, but he doubted the Near Folk were prepared to leave the forest at all. And where was Ende?

  “More men come this way.”

  Dray looked at the man in the dim light of the moon. The glow gave his skin an unnatural hue.

  “Into the forest or towards this village?” Dray asked.

  The man smiled. “You ask good questions.”

  Dray waited.

  “They move through the forest, but they are as you are.”

  Dray looked down over his thick black shirt. He doubted anyone was as he was in that moment. “More King’s Men.”

  The guide bowed his head in agreement. Dray thumped one hand in the palm of the other. What were they doing? “Have they determined where the king is?” he wondered aloud.

  “I think they may consider where he was,” the guide returned, and Dray looked at the man. “They pass through the forest.”

  “What will they do if they don’t find him there?” Dray wondered aloud, hoping silently that Ana hadn’t given anything away. “Your chief is sure she is alive.”

  The man looked at him confused for a moment. “You worry for the girl rather than your king.”

  “I know where my king is,” Dray returned quickly. “Ana could be dead.”

  “The chief is sure she lives.”

  “How can he be sure?”

  The man shook his head. It wasn’t a skill he had, then. “Where is your dragon?”

  “I don’t know that either.”

  “Could he be on the outskirts of the forest?”

  “Would you be willing to help me find him?” Dray asked, wondering where the questions were leading. Did the Near Folk want Ende gone, or did they want to ensure he wasn’t going to cause them any problems? “You would know if he was in the forest.”

  The man bowed his head in agreement.

  Ende hadn’t been the same since they’d entered the forest, and Dray wasn’t sure if it was the tight spaces beneath the trees or something else. He knew what lived beneath the branches. He headed back inside the hut to dress, trying to ensure he didn’t wake the king as he strapped his armour on. It might be a bad idea to leave him here alone, but Dray was sure these people wouldn’t hurt him. Although how he was so sure, he couldn’t tell. He tied on his belt as he left the cottage, the thick cloak draped around his shoulders. Eilke still dressed only in leather trousers, his bare tanned chest exposed to the elements.

  “Does your chief call you Eilke?” Dray asked.

  “We have other ways of calling to each other. What does your king call you?”

  “Captain, usually,” Dray said.

  “The girl you care for, she calls you something different.”

  “She calls me Dray. Yet she also calls the king by name.”

  The man looked him over as though trying to work out which name fitted him best. He nodded once and led the way past the cottage and towards the trees. Dray wondered what name he had decided on, but he would find out if the man needed to use it. He wondered how Eilke might get his attention otherwise, but he was sure the Near Folk were nothing like any other people he knew. He felt a strange sensation cross his skin, and then they were standing in the trees.

  Dray followed Eilke through the trees. He didn’t know if the man was leading him away from the village to find Ende as he’d suggested, or if this was to allow the Near Folk access to the king and Belle. He stopped and turned slowly, wondering if he could find
his way back on his own and doubting it greatly. He had made a mistake.

  He was distracted from the thought as the trees opened up before him, and he could see the meadows beyond. He leaned into a tree and took in the sight. Despite his concerns, he wasn’t sure they should leave the safety of the forest.

  “Do you see him?” Eilke asked.

  Dray shook his head. “Do you sense him?”

  “Not in the trees. I fear he has gone.”

  Did they need Ende in this? Did the Near Folk need him? He took in the man beside him. “Should we look for the soldiers?”

  Eilke nodded, and they headed back into the dense forest, only to emerge near the edge again a short time later.

  “They have moved beyond the trees,” Eilke said.

  Dray could see the dust in the dim light; the moonlight occasionally reflected from dark armour. The road from the forest led towards the mountains, which were darker shapes in the distance. The soldiers were moving fast.

  “They look for the king,” he said. “Not to help him.”

  “They are his men,” Eilke said.

  “His uncle’s men, and I fear his uncle would rather the king dead.”

  “They will return,” Eilke said, turning from the open world beyond. Then he stopped and turned back. “The dragon came from the mountains.”

  “I’m not sure he would return to them, but perhaps. He was willing to help us, although he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. And yet he hasn’t been the same since he entered the forest.”

  “The girl,” Eilke said.

  Dray nodded. It was when Ana had appeared to them that Ende had first seemed so unsettled. Maybe he had seen more in her than he wanted. Dray had as well. He shook the image away, fearing that the mage had won her over, although he was sure he couldn’t have done so in this short amount of time. Unless he had something to offer, such as a way to learn, or information on her mother.

  “What would she be willing to give for such information?” he murmured.

  “Shall we try the southern border?” Eilke asked.