by Lea Doué
Orin situated himself behind her and held on tightly, mumbling, “Great time to be adopting random eggs from under bushes. The things I do for that goose.”
Keir balanced on the edge of the ledge, wings spread, aiming for the dark, tree-thick drop. Mel squeaked and gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes closed.He kicked off. Wind rushed by, stealing her breath, and they flew.
Chapter Eight
The clear air made for smooth soaring as they continued north towards Cliffside. Mel’s muscles grumbled about the previous night’s overuse. She tried to distract herself by reciting the kings and queens of Ituria, starting with Jorey, the soldier-king. It calmed her nerves, but the list was only so long.
They stopped a few hours later for a rest and to check on the eggs. Snow crunched under her boots as she walked to the edge of the rocky meadow, tucking her cold hands under her arms, and surveyed the dark peaks rising around them. The Burnt River Mountains.
“Take these,” Vanda said, holding out Mel’s gloves.
Mel dismissed the offer with a wave. “You’re in front. You need them more than I do. It’s not so bad when I’ve got my arms wrapped around your man’s waist.”
“He’s not—”
Mel chuckled.
Vanda grinned, shaking her head, and put the gloves back on.
True hissed as Orin tried to remove her from the basket. “Stupid goose,” he said. “I’ve got to check on the eggs.”
“She’s not so stupid, I think,” Vanda said. “She knows they’re close to hatching.”
“Then we’d better get moving,” Mel said, surprising herself. She liked her feet on the ground, but she did not want dragon eggs hatching in mid-air. The sooner they reached Cliffside, the better for everyone. She glanced at Keir, who had his back turned to them. “How long can he fly while carrying all of us?”
“I’m not sure,” Vanda said. “A black dragon could easily cover threescore leagues in a night while soaring, but Keir wasn’t born a dragon. He’s strong, but not as strong as a natural-born black dragon.”
Mel had noticed his muscles.
“We’re weighing him down, but not only that. He’s been digging that tunnel almost non-stop for months. He’s tired, and he hasn’t been able to eat as much as he should to keep his strength up.”
“You sound worried. Did you talk with him much when you were on your own? You know, the mind-talking?”
“Some. He hates being a dragon and wants this curse to end probably more than any of us.”
That was debatable.
“Time to go,” Orin said. “I’ve got True settled back down.”
Keir growled as Mel passed by, his head-sized eye trained on the basket.
“I can guess what you’re thinking,” she said. “You’re the one who wanted me along, and we come as a package deal: me and Orin… and the goose.”
Once in the air again, Mel busied her mind by visualizing every detail of every map she could remember. She’d studied quite a few and even made some of her own, so it kept her occupied longer than anything else had.
After she’d mentally roamed countless borders and oceans and kingdoms, Baz said, “Look!”
She grimaced—whatever it was had better be good—and opened her eyes. In the distance, black and grey shadows crawled over a rolling valley dotted with trees and meadows. A river glinted in the moonlight. Keir descended quickly, and her stomach flipped. To her right, a great half-moon shaped courtyard grew out of the side of a vertical cliff, a handful of torches dotting the perimeter. Windows cut into the rock glowed like tiny fireflies, the only other indication of life among the rocks. Cliffside.
“Can we hurry things up a bit?” Orin shouted. “I’ve got eggs hatching here, and it’s still a long way down!”
Mel screeched as Keir plummeted towards the mountain castle. She would apologize to Baz later for digging her nails into his ribs. The few people in the courtyard spotted them and rushed to get out of the way as Keir flapped to slow their descent, stirring up dust and debris.
As soon as all four of Keir’s feet touched cobblestones, two guards ran up, fearless of the monster before them. Orin slid off first, and then Baz handed Mel down to one of the guards. She clung to the woman’s arms, head spinning. Baz gave orders to the other, something about guests and rooms and food.
“Mel!” Panic filled Orin’s voice.
She smiled in thanks to the guard and stumbled to Orin’s side, helping him remove the basket. Their fingers fumbled to untie the safety ropes. True honked and pecked as if trying to help, but she got their fingers half the time.
“Stop helping, little mother,” Mel said. “Everything’s going to be fine.” She cut the remaining ropes with a dagger, and then Orin lifted True out.
Mel grabbed the basket and ran to the edge of the courtyard where a border of grass separated the stones from the wall. She lifted out the eggs, still nestled in their blanket nest, and placed them gently on the ground. True worried over them, hum-gurgling in her throat and nudging them one by one. They all showed signed of cracking, and one of them wobbled with the motion of the dragon inside.
“Do you need anything?” Vanda whispered, gaze riveted on the nest.
“We could use some food. Anything will do, but meat is best.” The dragons would be hungry, and full bellies would discourage them from wandering. Vanda’s footsteps faded as she ran across the courtyard.
The wobbling egg cracked audibly, and the other two began rocking. True stilled, watching each egg in turn.
Orin knelt beside her. “What do I do—?”
The first egg burst open, sending shards of shell flying everywhere. Mel flinched. A little squirrel-sized dragon emerged with an angry-sounding squawk, unfurled its wings, and stood upright as if daring anyone to put him back in. He whipped his head around and caught sight of her.
Vanda crouched down by her side holding a bowl of dried fruit and shelled nuts.
Mel scooped up the dragon, tucked in its wings while it snapped at her fingers, and wrapped it in a spare blanket. She pushed it into Vanda’s arms. “Here, you can have the spicy one.”
Vanda awkwardly took hold of the swaddled dragon, but dropped the food bowl, scattering the contents into the grass. “Uh…”
“Feed it one piece at a time until it burps.”
“Burps?”
“They always burp when they’re full. I don’t know why.”
Vanda popped a piece of fruit into its mouth.
The second hatchling emerged less dramatically, one half of its shell flopping over to the side and sliding down the blanket towards True. She pecked at the shell and then stretched her neck out towards the dragon. It blinked and stared at her bill.
Mel wrapped the hatchling and handed it to Orin. He joined Vanda in feeding his hungry dragon with a goofy grin on his face. Mel focused on the last egg with True. It rocked back and forth, back and forth, until it toppled out of the nest. She scooped it up to place it back in, but it cracked open in her hands. The dragon let loose a mouse-sized roar while flapping its wings and trying to balance on her fingers. She shook out the nest blanket, wrapped the dragon inside, and turned towards the spilled food. True followed her, picked up an almond, and stuffed it into the dragon’s mouth. It chewed carefully and mouse-roared again. True fed it some fruit.
Vanda’s dragon burped.
Orin snorted, and Mel laughed, letting her shoulders relax. She popped a dried apricot into her own mouth.
“Now what?” Vanda said.
“Cradle it, and it will fall asleep for now.”
Orin’s dragon burped shortly after, but Mel’s hatchling didn’t seem to want to stop eating. Pink-tinged dawn brightened the horizon by the time the little dragon burped and passed out. True strutted around, inspecting each hatchling and honking as if she’d just delivered them herself.
Mel yawned. “We should find somewhere to settle the little things. And ourselves.” She took Orin’s dragon while he shouldered the basket and tucked True under his arm.<
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Baz joined them halfway across the courtyard. “Your rooms are ready, and a light meal has been left for you.”
Double doors big enough for dragon-Keir to walk through opened into an enormous entry hall carved out of the rock itself. Narrow stairs on either side of the outer wall led to upper levels, while a half dozen archways led further into the mountain.
Baz guided them up the right-hand staircase. “I’ve given you windowed rooms. We’re short-staffed, so you ladies will be sharing.”
A windowless stone hall stretched out before them at the top of the stairs, the shadows flickering with torchlight. Wooden doors lined both sides. He opened one for Orin and ushered him inside, and then opened the one next to it for Mel and Vanda.
“Sleep well,” Baz said. “I’ll have someone fetch you later for a proper meal.”
Vanda stepped inside their room and gasped, staring at what must have been the most luxurious furnishings she’d ever seen. Mel peeked over her shoulder and smiled. Wait until she saw a proper palace.
“True! Get back here.” Orin made a grab for the goose, but she limped into the girls’ room behind Vanda and disappeared.
“She wants to be with her babies,” Mel said.
“Traitor.” He smiled, glanced at his feet, and then leaned in quickly and kissed Mel’s forehead. “You’re welcome to her. Good night.”
“Sleep well.” Her forehead tingled where his lips had touched it, and the sensation spread down to her toes. She could get used to that.
She and Vanda took turns in their private bathing room, changed into the clean night clothes laid out for them, and settled True with the dragons, using a velvety dressing gown as a nest. Mel ate from the food-laden tray, hardly registering the flavors that landed on her tongue. She pulled the bed curtains closed to block out the morning light and curled up next to Vanda with a contented sigh. Both of them were so weary they’d said barely three complete sentences since entering the room.
*
A couple of maids woke them around noon, bringing a basket of clothes and a promise to guide them to the storage rooms later to pick out something more appropriate. They also left a tray with hot tea and some meat scraps for the dragons.
Mel rubbed her gritty eyes and blinked against the sun streaming through the curtains. Thankfully, the dragons had only woken once demanding food. She smiled—even now their noses twitched at the smell of meat. Things definitely looked brighter this morning, despite Tharius’s warning bouncing around in her head. His information had to be wrong—Baz knew his father better than Tharius ever could.
Right?
Mel took her turn in the bathing room and donned a green dress that dragged on the floor. After brushing out her hair, she laced up the sleeves, fastened her belt of daggers around her waist, and left her boots out to be cleaned.
When she emerged, Vanda held a chunk of meat in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.
Mel poured herself a cup and sat cross legged next to her. “You look good in pink.”
“You, too. Except in green.” She grinned and handed her dragon the meat.
“It’s my favorite. Pink is Junia’s. It’s basically the only color she wears.”
“Junia is one of your sisters?”
“Yes. One of the middle ones. She’s a healer like Keir, except she probably has a better bedside manner.” She handed meat to the other two dragons. Vanda’s had turned out lime green, while Orin’s was a dark pine, and hers was a few shades lighter with one brown leg.
True watched the feeding carefully and then copied Vanda, poking bits of meat at all three dragons in turn. The hatchlings climbed on her back and crawled under her belly, inspecting her feathers while they chewed.
“I don’t know anything about paper dragons,” Vanda said, using the species’ nickname as she held out another tidbit for the nearest dragon. “Am I doing this right?”
“You’re perfect.” Mel shooed the lime one away from her tea. “After a few weeks of eat-sleep, eat-sleep, be ready for some energy. They’re extremely curious and intelligent. And they can read maps! I can’t wait to teach mine.”
“Really? You mean you’re keeping one?”
“Of course. It will be great to have my own messenger dragon while I’m traveling. Orin will have his, and you can keep the spicy lime one if you want—I’ll help you train it.”
After a moment of silence, Vanda blinked and sniffed.
Oh, great. She’d made her cry. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head and shrugged. “I would love to keep one. I only wish… I mean, if I’d had one before all this started, it could have saved everyone a lot of trouble. I could have warned Gram that Idris was on his way to her cottage rather than going there myself and walking into his trap.”
“I know what you mean. Faster communication would change a lot of things, wouldn’t it?” But what handler would take the time to train them for folks who couldn’t pay?
After bedding down the dragons—and True, who insisted on sitting on them like a mother hen—they met Orin in the hallway, where he leaned against a wall chatting with the maids. He pushed off when he saw Mel and stared at her up and down.
“Nice color.”
She grinned. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He hiked up his too-large trousers. “Gives me an excuse to eat more at lunch.”
As the servants led them back to the entrance and into another hallway, she crossed her arms against the urge to slip her hand into his. He would leave eventually. Once everything was over and settled, he would no doubt be off to new adventures, which was just as well.
“Vanda is keeping one of the dragons,” she said, “but they need names.”
“Hers is the spicy one?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “How about Cinnamon or Spearmint?”
“Or Pepper.” She turned to Vanda. “What do you think?”
“I think,” Vanda chewed her lip. “I think I’ll name him Fleet after Baz’s horse that got stolen.”
Both sentimental and fitting for a fast flier. “Good choice. Now for Orin’s. You’ve already got True. You could name him Clever after your pony—”
“Horse.”
“Or maybe Stunned or Sleepy.”
“All excellent choices, Your Highness, but I’ve already decided on a name.”
Mel prodded him with her elbow. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”
“I shall name him Pickle.”
The maids giggled, and Vanda chuckled along with them.
“Don’t laugh—he’s not joking.”
He stuck his nose in the air, feigning offense. “Well, if that one’s not good enough, how about Celery?”
Mel didn’t answer. She would not call a dragon Celery.
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Hunter then—final option.”
“I can live with that.”
“What will you name your hungry one?” Vanda said.
“Jade.”
“We have a girl?” Orin’s eyes sparkled. “How can you tell?”
“Females have white rings around their eyes.”
“Huh. I hadn’t noticed in the dark.”
They arrived at the dining hall, a long and low room carved from the rock. The ceiling wasn’t low enough for Orin to risk bumping his head, but he could easily reach up and touch it without standing on a chair. Three windows reinforced with iron bands let in sunlight, keeping the space from feeling too cave-like. At the far end, a fire burned in a vain effort to warm the entire room.
Baz sat at the head of the table with Keir at his right hand. He pulled out a seat for Vanda on the other side, and then one for Mel. Orin sat across from her. They exchanged pleasantries and then Mel piled food on her plate and got serious about eating.
Vanda sipped her tea and picked at a roll she’d nabbed from a nearby basket. Her eyes roamed over the table at the selection of food. Warm bread and crispy pork chops, bacon and poached eggs, juicy red tomatoes and fresh fruit. It must have seemed
a feast.
Mel dished seconds onto her own plate and served Vanda as well.
“Oh, I don’t—”
“Less talking, more eating.” She grinned and whispered, “Try the pork chops. They look amazing.”
They ate to the sound of the crackling fire and tinkling porcelain. Finally, she addressed Baz. “Will we be leaving tonight for the palace?”
He swallowed a sip of tea. “About that. There was a letter waiting for me from Father when we arrived.”
Everyone waited for him to continue. He frowned. Glanced at Vanda. Looked at some point halfway down the table. “I’ll just read it.” He pulled the letter from under his plate, smoothed it out, and read.
My Dearest Sebastian,
Summer has neared its end. I eagerly await your return, as I am most anxious to make the acquaintance of your new friends. The young lady from Ituria most especially piques my interest. I trust you are treating her well.
Your correspondence has not been as frequent as I would desire. You will send me a response as soon as you receive this letter with an update on your arrival time.
I should caution you that the old woman has become most despondent over her separation from her granddaughter. If the delay in their reunion lingers much longer, I fear she may not be strong enough to bear the burden. She is counting on you, as am I, and your entire kingdom.
Your Father, King Lotario of Mazereon
Mel felt as though a bucket of icy water had been dumped on her head. The blood drained from Orin’s face, as well. Vanda laid down her fork and clasped her hands in her lap.
“Father…” Baz cleared his throat, and when he spoke again, his voice deepened. “My father has never before addressed me as ‘dearest’ anything. Not even in writing. This is the first time he failed to mention Vanda by name. And Gram is one of the strongest women I’ve ever known—she’d never wallow in despair.”
“You told me Gram would be safe with your father,” Vanda said.
Mel’s stomach churned. She shouldn’t have eaten that last slice of bacon. Tharius had been right. The king knew of her presence, and he likely hoped to have Baz marry her instead of Vanda. But how had he found out? Someone somewhere had sent him a message.