by K J Taylor
Rutger looked sideways at him. ‘Yes, you’re right. I don’t have any right to feel sorry for myself — you have it far worse than any of us. I really don’t blame you for trying to kill me, you know.’
Guilt twinged in Nils’s stomach. ‘I hated you so much.’
‘Don’t think about that,’ said Rutger. ‘It won’t help. But I understand that you’re angry. I was, too. Maybe I still am. But I left home in the first place because I wanted to kill someone. I wanted revenge. I took it, and now . . . I feel stained. I have ever since. Your mother’s love was the only thing I found on my travels that was truly worth anything. And now I’m not even sure if she . . .’ he trailed off.
‘She’s alive,’ said Nils. ‘We know that.’
‘But we don’t know who she is,’ Rutger’s fingers curled, nails digging into his palms.
‘She’s my mother,’ Nils said simply. ‘And . . .’
Rutger waited. ‘And what?’
‘And I think I inherited something from her,’ said Nils. ‘I never said anything before, but sometimes I have dreams, too. About things that are going to happen.’
Rutger stared at him. ‘You do? What did you see? When? Do you know anything about—?’
‘I don’t know who the fourth of us is,’ said Nils. ‘But I saw the fire. The Drachengott’s fire — I dreamed about that before it happened. But I didn’t know what it meant.’
‘Oh.’
A small group of dragons had been sent to investigate the destruction, but so far they hadn’t come back.
‘I keep thinking that maybe I’ll dream about what we need to know,’ Nils added. ‘But so far I haven’t. Or if I have, it didn’t mean anything to me.’
‘Maybe you will,’ said Rutger. ‘But otherwise your mother can tell us. She made me a promise: she promised she would come back to me, and that I could go with her.’
‘And you trust her to keep that promise?’
Rutger spread his hands. ‘What else can I do? I love her enough to want to trust her.’
They were silent for a time, and Nils looked up at the sky where the dragons flew.
‘Father?’ he said after a while.
‘Yes, Theodor?’
Nils looked back at him. ‘I was wondering . . .’
‘Yes?’ Rutger said again. He seemed tense.
‘What animal do you turn into? Elynor wouldn’t tell me.’
Rutger relaxed and laughed. ‘Is that all?’
‘I’m just curious,’ said Nils. ‘Will you show me now?’
‘I don’t see—’ Rutger began, but at that moment a roaring from above cut him off.
Both of them looked up to see that the dragons had begun to fly faster. More of them were appearing in the sky, the flock growing thicker by the moment.
‘It’s them!’ Nils guessed. ‘They’re back!’
Without waiting for an answer, he turned into his dragon shape and launched himself toward them. He soon found Spurling — but more importantly, there was Birch, flying with him.
Birch! Nils called.
Theodor! the brown female answered. Hello!
Nils didn’t waste any more time. He flew off past Ketzergard’s walls, and there they were — the army, drawing up at the gates. Hundreds of people, standing in an open space where once there had been trees. But that illusion, like the one hiding Ketzergard, was now gone.
Nils flew down to them at once, and at their head he found Lilith and Tancred. Peter was with them, and the surviving Ketzer commanders, most still on deerback.
‘Theodor!’ Lilith waved to him. ‘Finally!’
Nils quickly changed back, and at once his heart started to patter. ‘Lilith,’ he said with a smile. ‘Welcome back. You made it!’
Behind him the gates were opening, and Alberich was there to greet them, with Ambrose.
‘Papa!’ Tancred leapt down off his deer and ran toward them. Ambrose hugged his son tightly, the sight of which gave Nils a pang at his heart.
‘My mother,’ he said to Lilith. ‘How is she?’
‘Not well,’ said Lilith. ‘The cuts are healing, but she’s feverish — you should go to her.’
Nils nodded sharply and hurried away, the Soul Thief clutched in one hand, as the army marched past him. He sniffed the air, and soon picked up his mother’s scent. But even before he found the wagon where she lay, he had picked up the hot, sickly odour of illness.
He scrambled up into the wagon. Syn was there, lying under a blanket, and a girl was gently wetting her sweaty face with a rag. Syn herself seemed unaware of her presence, or Nils’s arrival. She was on her back, her hair lank around her shoulders. Her upper chest was exposed, and he could see the cuts had sealed over and become thin silvery scars. There were more on her face, where the bruises were finally fading. But her cheeks had caved in and her half-open eyes were hollow and unnaturally bright.
Pain stabbed at Nils. ‘Oh, Mother . . .’
The girl looked up. ‘This is your mother?’
‘Yes,’ said Nils. ‘How is she—?’
The girl put the rag aside. ‘Her injuries aren’t as bad as we thought, but, along with being left hanging like that in the open, they have made her very weak. She’s sick and feverish.’
Nils touched his mother’s cheek — it was burning hot. ‘Will she get better?’
‘She could do,’ said the girl. ‘If she has the strength.’
‘Here.’ Nils held out a hand for the rag. ‘Let me look after her now.’
The girl nodded and handed it over. ‘Call me if anything happens — my name is Saxa.’
‘I will — thank you.’
Saxa climbed down off the wagon, and Nils took her place by Syn’s side as the wagon rattled off into Ketzergard. Nils wiped Syn’s face and murmured her name, telling her he was there to look after her now. But he wasn’t left alone with her for long. There was a scrabbling at the back of the wagon and Rutger suddenly appeared, hauling himself up. He was already calling her name — the false name she had used when he had fallen in love with her.
‘She can’t hear you,’ Nils told him. ‘She’s very sick.’
Syn’s hands lay on top of the blanket, one fist clenched. Rutger put his own hands over them, and his eyes, too, were unnaturally bright. ‘What did they do to you, Swanhild?’ he said.
She stirred suddenly, and her too-bright eyes opened. But she didn’t seem to see either of them.
‘Mother?’ said Nils. ‘Are you awake?’
Syn coughed weakly. ‘Yes,’ she said in a faint voice. ‘Yes, yes . . .’
Nils’ heart leapt. ‘Mother, it’s us,’ he said. ‘Rutger’s here. You’re in Ketzergard.’
‘Yes,’ Syn said again, vacantly. ‘Yes, I see you. I will be there. When the end comes. Four . . . four . . . four together. I will find you, I will guide you, I will never . . .’ she trailed off suddenly. And then, just as suddenly, she started to cry. Her sobs were as weak as her voice. ‘It’s not fair,’ she said, still staring at nothing. ‘Everything I did, everything I will do, all for them, but what . . . what about me? And my heart . . .’
Rutger clutched at her hands. ‘Swanhild,’ he said. ‘Swanhild, it’s all right. I’m here. I won’t let you go. I’ll never let you go again.’
She only sobbed harder, clearly unaware of where she was or that anyone was there. ‘My love,’ she raved. ‘My love is only pain. Why must I — and I only . . . this face I wear . . . Kill me, Drachengott, set me free from this, I must . . .’
Nils wet the rag again and dabbed her forehead, frantically murmuring to her — saying anything that came to mind which might soothe her. But she didn’t seem to have the strength to say much more. She mumbled into silence, broken by the occasional sob, while Rutger held her hands. At last she relaxed, slumping back into sleep. Her fingers uncurled, and something fell out onto the blanket.
Rutger picked it up. It was a red rose, made from leather, and he let out a soft sob of his own as he held it. Looking back at Syn�
��s face, he said quietly, ‘I will never forget this. I will never forgive him for what he did to you, Swanhild. I won’t give up, I swear. I’ll fight him again, and when I do, I’ll kill him.’
Nils put a tentative hand on his shoulder. ‘And I’ll go with you,’ he said. ‘This isn’t over.’
Rutger cradled the rose against his chest. ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, it isn’t.’
Chapter Sixteen
They took Syn to Elynor’s home, carrying her to a washroom not far from Rutger’s quarters, where a bath was hastily filled. Nils and Rutger lifted Syn’s limp body into the water, and Rutger used his magic to cool the water even further. Both of them knew enough about medicine to know that she could well die if they couldn’t bring her temperature down.
It seemed to work. Syn relaxed in the water, her head propped up on Rutger’s hand, and heaved a slow, deep sigh. Saxa stood by, and a short time later Elynor joined them. She was carrying a wooden box and looked concerned.
‘This is bad,’ she said, on hearing what Saxa had to say. ‘But don’t worry, I have some medicines here which should help.’
‘Druiden medicines?’ asked Saxa.
‘Yes — I learned more than shapeshifting back in Gallia.’ Elynor put the box down and opened it. It was full of small glass bottles and jars.
‘Can’t we use magic to cure her?’ asked Nils.
‘I don’t know how,’ said Elynor. ‘And I don’t know anyone who does. Some things are too complex for magic to fix. Perhaps if we knew where sicknesses like this came from . . .’ She trailed off, distracted by her search through the box. After some rummaging around she came up with a bottle of pale yellow medicine. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘This should help.’
Syn was still unconscious, so they poured the medicine down her throat, then massaged her throat to help her swallow it. She coughed and spluttered, but managed to get it down. Already she felt less hot under Nils’s hands.
They left her in the bath for a while, and finally carried her to a bed in the next room, where they made her as comfortable as they could. Elynor lined up a couple of other medicines on the table by the bed.
‘As long as we give her this every day, she should recover soon enough,’ she said. ‘And these others here will also help. Saxa, I want you to stay by and keep a constant watch over her. If she grows too hot again, put her back in the bath.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘I’ll stay by as well,’ said Rutger. He was still holding the leather rose.
‘And me,’ said Nils.
Elynor paused. ‘I think we all will.’
***
And they did. For the rest of that day Nils stayed close by, and like Elynor he constantly checked on Syn. As for Rutger, he stayed in the room with her, sitting on a chair and making some rather distracted repairs to his flying sails. Syn was asleep now — proper sleep — and thankfully she didn’t start to rave again. But she was still feverish, and until the fever broke she wouldn’t begin to recover.
Three days dragged by, and each one was more painful than the last. Nils waited around, unwilling to go far but not knowing what else he could do. He didn’t want to risk not being there when his mother came back to her senses — if she ever did.
On the third day, while he was sitting on a couch and picking at some food, Lilith made an unexpected entrance. She was wearing a green dress which suited her very well, but her normally cheerful face was grim. ‘Theodor, there you are.’
Nils looked up. ‘Er, yes,’ he said stupidly. His chest felt unnaturally tight all of a sudden. ‘Hello.’ He stood up and stared at her, not knowing what else to do.
Lilith didn’t seem to notice his awkwardness. ‘The dragons came back,’ she said. ‘The ones Spurling sent to investigate the fires.’
‘Oh.’ Nils had completely forgotten about that. ‘What did they find?’
‘Swetzland and Gallia,’ said Lilith. ‘That’s what he hit. At least a hundred villages and one city in Swetzland — completely destroyed. And dozens more in Gallia. The flames reached as far as the capital.’
Nils gaped at her. ‘He did all that? In one go?’
‘Yes,’ said Lilith. ‘And now the Gallien King has started gathering troops, and the King of Swetzland as well. It looks like they might be preparing to attack Wendland.’
‘Oh no.’
‘If that happens, Espan will probably attack as well,’ said Lilith. ‘They’re allied to Swetzland.’
‘Oh no,’ Nils said again. He honestly couldn’t think of anything else to say.
‘So it’s bad,’ said Lilith. ‘Mama thinks we should send messengers to them and explain what happened. Maybe they’d join up with us and help us fight the Drachengott.’
Nils laughed harshly. ‘Fight him? An army of Gottlosen against the Drachengott? Even we barely survived, and we have the weapons. What do they have?’
‘Well, maybe there are more weapons like yours,’ Lilith said desperately. ‘I don’t know. But we have to do something.’
Nils lost his humourless smile. ‘Yes . . . yes, you’re right. I just wish I knew what. But maybe we—’
‘Theodor!’
Nils looked up sharply. ‘Father?’
Rutger was in the doorway to Syn’s bedroom, and he looked very pale. ‘Theodor, come in here — hurry. Where’s Elynor?’
‘I don’t know — what’s happened?’
‘She’s awake,’ said Rutger.
Nils breathed in sharply, and bolted for the door.
Sure enough, Syn was awake. Her eyes were open, and instead of being glossy and blank they were looking at Nils as he came in. And then she smiled — weakly, but warmly. ‘Theodor,’ she croaked.
Rutger was already back at her side, holding her hand. ‘Lilith, can you go and find your mother? She needs to be here.’
Lilith nodded and hurried off.
Nils went to Syn’s other side, and took her other hand. ‘Mother,’ he said. ‘You’re better.’
Syn coughed. ‘No, I’m not better,’ she said. ‘But I am awake. How long has it been?’
‘Days,’ said Rutger. ‘We thought you might die.’
Her mouth twisted. ‘I think death might have been . . . better.’
‘Don’t say that.’ He sat down by her, not letting go of her hand. ‘You’re going to be fine.’
‘Aahhh . . .’ Syn sighed. ‘It’s so good, hearing your voice again, Rutchen.’
‘And yours,’ said Rutger. ‘I was so afraid—’
‘I meant to come back to you,’ she told him. ‘I swear I did. But our son, I couldn’t—’
‘I understand,’ said Rutger.
‘It’s fine,’ Nils added. ‘Mother, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did. This is all my fault.’
Syn looked up at him. ‘No,’ she said. ‘The fault . . . is the Drachengott’s.’
‘All of it is,’ said Nils.
‘Vanya!’ Elynor’s voice called from the doorway. She swept in, Ambrose and Lilith behind her.
Syn lifted her head to look at them. ‘Hello, Elynor.’
Elynor’s look back toward her was hard. ‘So we meet again, Vanya,’ she said. ‘Or is it Swanhild? Or Ishild?’
‘Elynor, don’t —’ Rutger began.
‘No, my love,’ Syn interrupted. ‘Elynor has every right to be angry with me, and so do you. All of you have that right. I lied to all of you. Even to you, Rutger, and you . . . are the only man I have ever loved.’
Nils let go of her hand. ‘You had a reason to lie, though,’ he said carefully.
‘But that’s enough,’ said Elynor, cutting Rutger off as he began to speak. ‘You told me Ambrose was dead when you knew he was alive. And you broke Rutger’s heart, when you claim to love him. You never even told him he had a son. Can you justify any of that, Vanya? Well, can you?’
Rutger faltered. Clearly he wanted to defend Syn, but he didn’t, and nor did Nils speak up. All of them looked at Syn, and waited for her to speak.
She was silent for a long time. The fever had left her gaunt, her once-glossy hair dull and her eyes dim. Her lips were thin and cracked.
‘I . . . I never wanted to hurt any of you,’ she said slowly. ‘I swear it. Everything I did, it was to protect you, and myself. But I only needed to keep myself safe so I could do what I must.’
‘But you expect them to trust you,’ said Ambrose. ‘Why not trust them, if you think they’re that important?’
‘Perhaps I was afraid,’ said Syn. ‘But I was never important, and neither was my identity. I’m not a hero, none of the weapons are meant for me. I was only ever the dreamer, and all I know is to follow my dreams. What I saw . . .’
‘What did you see?’ asked Nils.
‘Us,’ she said simply. ‘You, Theodor, and you, Rutger, and you, Elynor. And one other. The four of you together on a blasted plain, holding those weapons. And I was there. The last day had come, and one of you spoke to me. You said you wished you knew who I truly was. That’s how I knew to say nothing, to hide myself, to be anonymous.’
‘All that because of a dream?’ said Rutger. ‘But what sense does that make?’
‘How does not knowing who you are change anything?’ said Elynor. ‘And how does lying to us help?’
Syn stifled another cough. ‘Because the dream must happen exactly as I saw it, or otherwise it may never happen at all. If you knew who I was, then it would change the future I saw, and in that future the Drachengott may not die, and Wendland might not be set free. I could not . . . take that risk. Not even for you, Rutger.’
‘That’s silly,’ muttered Lilith.
Syn’s eyes narrowed. ‘All that I did, I did to make my dream come true,’ she said. ‘If you had known Ambrose was alive, Elynor, you would have chased after him instead of coming with me. And if you had survived and rescued him you would probably have returned to Gallia. You would never have found the Bond Breaker or become leader of the Ketzer. And you, Rutger . . .’ she faltered.
‘What about me?’ he asked. ‘Why did you have to lie to me?’
‘Because if you knew the truth you would never have trusted me at all,’ said Syn.