The Dragonslayer's Sword

by Resa Nelson

  Astrid knelt by Lenore's side. "Help the Captain guide this ship back to Guell."

  "What if you can't find them here?” Lenore said. "What if you need me—"

  "I need you to be safe and well," Astrid said. "Go home. We'll meet you again, soon enough."

  Lenore nodded grimly. "Be careful."

  When Astrid and Randim jumped from ship to land, the blacksmiths unloaded all of the dragonslayer swords and their forging tools—enough for Astrid to trade for a new ship. Once the blacksmiths were done, they pushed their own ship back into the water. Randim watched it drift away.

  Astrid scanned the island's town ahead, DiStephan by her side. "Why does this feel so wrong?" she said.

  "Take a deep breath," DiStephan said, "and tell me what you smell."

  Astrid inhaled, her nose wrinkling, trying to sort out the scent of salt air, briny fish, and wood fire smoke waffling up from houses. She caught a hint of the strange scent she'd smelled that day in Guell, when she'd led Lumpy and Broken Nose through the feeding carrion birds and lizards.

  "Beware," Astrid said softly. "Here be dragons."

  "I believe so," DiStephan said.

  Astrid glanced at the departing ship of blacksmiths and Guell survivors, feeling a need for every type of weapon she could find. "Is it true what you told Randim? Are lizards spooked easily?"

  "Quite easily."

  "Will you scare some up for me?"

  DiStephan searched Astrid's face. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

  "I'm not sure at all, but it's what I'm asking.” Astrid shifted her attention to the weight of DiStephan's sword strapped across her back. As long as she had Starlight, she had hope. "Considering there's only Randim and me, a lizard could come in handy if we have any problems trading."

  "Done," DiStephan said, turning to leave.

  "Be careful," Astrid said automatically.

  DiStephan laughed. "I'm the ghostie," he said, mimicking Randim's serious tone. "Remember?"

  Astrid smiled briefly, watching him walk along the shoreline.

  Dozens of small wooden houses clustered together at the beach's edge. Thin columns of smoke rose from chimneys.

  Randim kept pace at her side while they walked through a maze of narrow streets into town.

  Astrid couldn't help but gawk. Planks of timber made up the streets—walkways made of boards. Clean and tidy, neat and well kept.

  And the houses...high wooden walls with thatched roofs, not like the squat wattle-and-daub cottages she'd known all her life. The houses lined the boardwalk streets, many of them divided by fences. It was the prettiest town Astrid had ever seen.

  The entire town bustled, the boardwalks crowded with foot traffic and vendors selling their wares in front of their doorways. Men and women alike towered above Astrid, seemingly as tall as trees.

  A freshly beheaded chicken ran across their path. It dropped to the ground in front of Astrid. A scrawny young man caught up, scooping its legs between his already bloody fingers.

  "Sorry," he said with a quick glance at her first, then turned his full attention to them. His face paled with surprise. "Mistress Blacksmith."

  Astrid worked hard to smile without showing her worry. "Donel. We've come to buy you back. You and your father."

  Donel looked gaunt and sinewy, little more than a shadow of how Astrid remembered him. He'd lost several teeth, and his skin had a yellowish tinge. He limped, and Astrid wondered if it was a temporary injury or a permanent one.

  But when he looked into her eyes, his gaze burned with passionate hope. "Take great care, Mistress Blacksmith," he whispered. "Odds are, you'll be needing it."

  * * *

  "This will not make me happy," Randim said, eyeing the men as they dragged their heels through the dirt, carving lines that formed a square the size of a small shop.

  "No one's happy," Astrid whispered in response. "Except for them."

  They'd found the man who'd purchased Donel and his father the butcher from the brigands. Zavi was their master, a slight man wearing fine linen trousers and a silk tunic. Dozens of silver and gold armbands covered his bare arms. One of the few townsmen wealthy enough to own a sword, Zavi had a short brigand's sword, not nearly as valuable as a dragonslayer's sword. Despite his quiet demeanor, all men deferred to him as their leader. He'd refused every offer Astrid made to buy Donel and his father.

  A nagging suspicion told Astrid that Zavi must be toying with her. Like Komdra, Zavi spoke a language foreign to Astrid. During his enslavement, Donel had proved to be a quick study and now acted as a good interpreter.

  When Zavi suggested a challenge of swords, Donel's translation made it sound like a game: Zavi's men would draw a large square in the dirt, Zavi and Astrid would step inside the square and draw their swords, and the first to step outside would lose.

  Zavi walked inside the dirt square and beckoned for Astrid to join him. Hundreds of people already had climbed nearby trees and rooftops for a better view while crowds gathered.

  "What kind of man are you to fight a one-armed girl?” Randim shouted angrily, his face flushed with the best color he'd had in weeks.

  Astrid was the least qualified to win a sword match, but Zavi insisted on her as his opponent.

  On the other hand, she'd already killed a lizard big enough to swallow Zavi in one gulp. Astrid turned to Randim. "Don't worry," she said. "There's more to me than any of them can see.” She turned and walked into the dirt square, Starlight strapped to her side.

  Zavi grew quiet and serious when he withdrew his sword, wielding it in one hand. He held a round wooden shield large enough to protect all but his legs and iron-helmeted head.

  Astrid unsheathed Starlight, gripping it with both hands, pointing its tip at Zavi's mouth, as if he were a lizard.

  While the crowd shouted with anticipation, Astrid realized that although she already knew how to fight a lizard, she had no idea how to fight a man, much less one with a sword.

  "Did I mention," she said nervously, regretting her decision to fight, "that we can make better swords for you?"

  Her opponent answered by lunging forward.

  Astrid jumped back, but his blade sliced through her clothes and nicked her belly. Zavi shoved his shield toward her as he delivered another quick blow from above, aiming at Astrid's head.

  Astrid darted to the side. This time Zavi's sword left a shallow cut on her arm.

  Zavi yelled fiercely, fire burning passionately in his eyes.

  The crowd echoed his passion, screaming just as fiercely.

  Zavi's blows were quick and decisive, narrowly missing Astrid as she struggled to evade them. She kept a tight grip on Starlight, too scared to use it against an experienced swordsman.

  The crowd screamed louder, but they didn't sound passionate.

  They sounded terrified.

  People stampeded past the dirt square, some climbing to join those already sitting in trees or on rooftops, others scattering throughout the town's maze of narrow alleys.

  A lizard darted down the dirt street at the townspeople's heels. Its jaws snapped around a man's knee.

  The man screamed when he fell, and the lizard began dragging him away.

  Astrid bolted toward them, holding Starlight above her head while she ran, pointing its tip at the lizard's head.

  She heard DiStephan call out nearby. "Do you like the lizard I scared up for you?"

  The lizard's jaw released the man, who screamed louder.

  Randim raced toward the injured man and dragged him to safety, while the lizard turned its full attention to Astrid.

  It paused, flicking its forked yellow tongue toward her.

  "You're bleeding!” DiStephan sounded worried.

  Astrid didn't dare look away from the lizard, but she felt something warm run down her arm. "Right," she said.

  "Blood drives lizards into a frenzy," DiStephan said. "I never would have agreed to this if I'd known you were going to go and get yourself cut up!"

  As
trid kept Starlight's blade horizontal and steady as the lizard charged. Standing her ground, she thrust the blade into the lizard's mouth when it snapped at her.

  The lizard shrieked, pulling back, teeth broken, mouth bleeding.

  "Good thing being frenzied doesn't make them any smarter," DiStephan said.

  The lizard shuffled its bowed legs, whipping its tail from side to side. It charged Astrid again.

  As Astrid stepped past it, forcing the lizard to spin, DiStephan's voice rose in excitement. "There, Pigeon! Step up!"

  Astrid saw her opportunity: a moment where the lizard unwittingly presented one bowed leg like a stair step. Astrid kept Starlight pointed at the lizard's mouth while she bounded first on top of its leg and then onto its back. This time, she lunged toward its neck, driving Starlight down. She held on tightly to the sword's hilt when the lizard thrashed, knowing it could kill her quickly if she let it throw her off its back.

  The lizard collapsed and died, the dirt road soaked in its blood. Astrid stood on its back, still clutching the sword's hilt. Turning to face Zavi, who hadn't budged from the dirt square, Astrid said, "I'll take the butcher and his son now."

  Stepping from the crowd, Donel translated her words to Zavi.

  Zavi shook his head, gesturing toward the dirt as he spoke.

  Donel translated. "He says the first man who steps outside the square loses. Even if the first man is a little girl."

  Anger rose inside Astrid.

  They'd offered to buy Donel and his father. They'd offered to work, even to make swords for them. And although it hadn't smelled right, Astrid had agreed to fight Zavi.

  "I may have stepped outside the lines," Astrid said. "But I saved your man from becoming this dragon's supper."

  Zavi shrugged it off with a few casual words.

  "He says, with that bite, he'll be dead in a few days."

  "I killed this dragon," Astrid said, explaining the obvious. "I protected you and your town."

  "Maybe, he says. Maybe not. Maybe that dragon would have taken him away and left us alone."

  Suddenly, Astrid had a new appreciation for Taddeo and what he had done for Norah.

  "Be careful what decisions you make, because every decision has consequences," Astrid said, repeating the words Taddeo had said to her before they parted. She dropped her flesh-and-blood hand from the hilt, knowing it to be the only hand everyone except DiStephan could see. With her spirit hand, she pulled Starlight from the lizard's neck, holding the sword high above her head, knowing it would seem as if the sword were floating above her with a life of its own.

  "Beware," Astrid said. "For I am the consequences of the next decision you make."

  In that moment, Astrid felt willing to kill anyone who would stop her from leaving this island with Donel and his father. They were her people and they belonged to her, just like Norah belonged to Taddeo.

  Just as she'd hoped, everyone looked at her in stunned silence.

  A stocky man bearing a heavy bag slung across his shoulder walked out of a narrow alley. He walked to the drawn dirt square, letting the bag fall into it with a heavy thump. Gold and silver spilled from its mouth.

  Zavi examined the bag’s contents. Satisfied, he smiled at Astrid.

  Donel translated Zavi's words for the last time. "You've struck terror in my heart, little girl. Take your men and be done with us."

  * * *

  As they approached the beach, Astrid said, "Zavi let us go too easily. That bag looked like payment."

  DiStephan raised his eyebrows. "Payment for what?"

  Astrid stopped short. DiStephan stayed by her side while Randim led Donel and the butcher toward their new ship. She pointed at a crowd on the boardwalk street. "That looks like Drageen."

  DiStephan frowned. "Why would Drageen come here?"

  "I have something Drageen wants.” Once again, Astrid felt the ominous chill that had begun when they arrived at this island. "Can you find Taddeo? Ask him to help us?"

  "I can, Pigeon. I will."

  But DiStephan cried out in surprise, and his shocked face was the last thing Astrid saw before she lost consciousness.

  CHAPTER 35

  Astrid woke up to the rolling motion of the sea beneath her and darkness all around. Her head throbbed and the back of her neck itched. But when she raised her hand to scratch, she felt the cold, heavy weight of iron around her wrist.

  Once her eyes adjusted, she noticed a few thin, vertical slats of light piercing the darkness. Wood creaked and groaned as footsteps crossed above.

  Astrid realized she must be below the deck of a ship. She made out shapes surrounding her in the dimness.

  "Where are we?” Astrid said, squinting, trying to recognize faces.

  "On Drageen's ship," Randim said glumly.

  His voice came just a few feet away from where Astrid determined she’d been shackled to the floorboards.

  The banging of a door thrown open and a blinding shaft of light interrupted Astrid. Heavy boots lumbered down the below-deck ladder.

  Astrid blinked, trying to quell her nerves as she strove to get a clear view of the man descending the ladder.

  "Count yourselves lucky," a familiar voice said. "I'd reconsider the man's offer if I were you."

  Astonished, Astrid stared at the butcher as he walked among them, handing a raw potato to Donel and Randim.

  The sudden burst of light from above gave Astrid the chance to assess the situation. Randim and Donel were shackled, too.

  The butcher stopped short when he began to hand a potato to Astrid. "Didn't I tell you to stay away from my son?"

  "She came to help us, Papa," Donel said quietly.

  "There's not a Scalding you can trust.” The butcher backed away from Astrid, keeping her potato for himself. "They're slippery. She tricked us all, right from the start.” The butcher shook his head. "The child seller would've taken her on to someplace else if only Temple hadn't bought her. We'd all have been better off without her."

  "Where is Drageen?” Astrid said. "What does he want with us?"

  The butcher turned away from her in disgust, speaking to everyone except Astrid. "Pretending she doesn't know."

  "Leave Mistress Blacksmith alone," Donel said, his voice soft and measured.

  "She's an evil, wicked thing. You need to come to your senses and come up top with me."

  "Where Mistress Blacksmith goes," Donel said, "I go."

  "She's not your father.” The butcher walked heavily across the lower deck floor and climbed back up the ladder. He let the door slam shut behind him, casting the lower deck into darkness again.

  Astrid winced with a sting of regret. Donel had begged for years to be her apprentice, and she'd always refused him. She hadn't dared let him into the smithery when she knew how important he was to his father. She still remembered the day the child seller had brought her to Guell, when the butcher asked the child seller to keep his eyes open for a boy child to help him. The butcher and his wife never had any children other than Natalia and her sisters. A few years later the child seller brought Donel to Guell.

  But there was a deeper truth. Astrid had been afraid to let anyone into her smithery, her safe place. She needed a place where she didn't have to care how anyone else saw her. The smithery allowed her to take whatever shape she needed and wanted to do the work she loved without being seen or criticized or judged.

  Now Astrid realized Donel was probably the last one who would criticize or judge her. It might have taken time to get used to his being by her side, but it would have been worth it.

  Astrid wished she'd invited him to be her apprentice. She wished she'd had more faith in Donel.

  She wished she'd had more faith in herself.

  He handed his potato to her.

  "I can't.” Astrid ignored her gnawing stomach.

  Donel looked as if he'd eaten little for months. His face was thin and gaunt, his body more scrawny than she'd ever seen before.

  Astrid had rarely gone hungry.
She doubted Donel could say the same.

  He put the potato in her hands. "We'll share."

  In the dimness, Astrid could barely see his eyes, but she saw the same resolve he'd shown just moments ago when he'd stood his ground with his father, something she'd never seen him do before.

  For a moment, she wondered what had happened to Donel on the island they'd left behind.

  Astrid took a small bite of the potato, firm and raw, but juicy in her mouth.

  Donel nodded, satisfied. "The Scalding offers protection. He's taking us to Tower Island."

  Astrid choked on the potato. She frowned, remembering the butcher's words. "If your father says no Scalding can be trusted, then why's he trusting Drageen?"

  "He isn't," Donel said. "He's tired. And scared. He says Tower Island could be the safest place of all."

  Astrid pulled her spirit hand free of its shackle. Drageen wouldn’t have shackled her spirit arm unless he’d seen it. Apparently, he had eaten enough lizard meat lately to think her spirit arm was real. After all, he hadn't seen her since she'd given her arm to Norah.

  Astrid felt the shackle around her flesh-and-blood wrist. She focused her efforts, reshaping her hand until she wriggled it free of the restraint. She let her hand drift back to its normal shape.

  "We must take control of the ship," Astrid said.

  "That's impossible," Randim said. "We made these shackles ourselves—I'd recognize my own work anyway. They're much too strong—"

  Astrid stood up.

  Randim's jaw dropped. "How did you do that?"

  "Where's DiStephan?" she said.

  Randim hesitated before answering. "Last I saw of him was when Drageen jumped us. The ghostie's gone."

  Good. That meant he’d gone to look for Taddeo.

  At the same time, Astrid realized she'd eaten the last bit of night's bane while at the last island. She'd known whenever it wore off would be the last time she'd see DiStephan. She'd thought about all the things she wanted to say to him. Things she'd wished she'd said to him before he'd died, more than a year ago. She thought she'd have a second chance to make amends.

  And now that chance was gone forever, thanks to Drageen. Without night's bane, Astrid would never see DiStephan or hear his voice again.