Enala scrambled across the muddy ground as the two dragons clashed again, the blast of wind from their wings almost knocking her from her feet. The ground shook as Nerissa tossed the Red like a ragdoll, sending it tumbling through the trees. But it did not stay down. Leaping back to its feet, the Red tore at her dragon. Blood dripped freely into the earth as the two raged against one another. Nerissa’s golden scales lay scattered across the forest. Long gashes marked her hide where the Red’s claws had found their mark.
Yet it was clear the Gold was winning. Whatever her injuries, Nerissa had dealt far worse to the Red. Blood streaked its hide, mingling with the scarlet scales, so that it seemed its whole body were bleeding. Several of its claws had been torn away, and as it came at Nerissa again, it could only manage a limp, unable to throw off the agony of its wounds.
Enala’s heart soared as she watched Nerissa prevailing. But as she retreated, her foot caught in a fallen tree. She tumbled backwards with a shout. A roar carried across the clearing as the two dragons turned towards her. Looking up from the ground, she saw the Red’s eyes darken. It knew it was going to lose, that it could not defeat the Gold dragon.
But it could hurt her.
The great red jaws opened. Before Nerissa could intervene, a plume of fire rushed from the dragon’s jaws. Screaming, Enala twisted, throwing herself flat against the ground as fire rushed overhead. She lay behind the tree she’d tripped over. It offered some shelter, but as the fire grew, she felt it searing at her skin, scorching, burning. Breathing in, the heat seared her throat, sucking the air from her lungs. She gasped, choking as the flames engulfed her.
7
As quickly as it had begun, the inferno ceased. A sudden silence filled the air. Facedown on the ground, Enala stifled a moan, feeling the burning across her back. The awful heat slowly faded away, but she didn’t dare move, hardly breathed, for fear she would agitate whatever burns her back had taken.
Lying on the ground, she listened for the sound of dragons battling, but there was nothing. A dreadful stillness hung over the forest. The woodland creatures had fled long ago, driven away by the Red dragon’s presence, leaving the morning in unnatural silence. Body aching, Enala waited for the roars and screams to resume.
Enala? Are you okay?
Enala shivered as Nerissa’s voice sounded in her mind. I don’t know, she replied, not trusting her throat to speak.
The ground shook as something large approached. The Red is dead, child. Where are you? There was open concern in Nerissa’s voice.
Shifting her body slightly, Enala flinched, then realised she didn’t hurt half as bad as she’d expected. Blinking open her eyes, she stared at the blackened ground around her. The tree trunk behind her had been turned to charcoal. There wasn’t a leaf or branch left on the ground where the dragon’s fire had swept through. She frowned and sat up.
Across the clearing, Nerissa stood over the bloody body of the Red dragon. Her claws had opened its throat, spilling blood and fire across the root-riddled ground. Its body looked broken, as though with the fleeing of its life it had shrunk, become less. Even so, the great mound of red scales was still an imposing sight. Shivering, Enala looked at Nerissa.
You are safe, Enala felt the dragon’s relief sweep through her.
She nodded, half in disbelief. Carefully, Enala patted herself down, checking for injuries she might have missed. She still carried the bruises and cuts left from her flight through the jungle, but there were no burns. Her clothes were hot to the touch, but it seemed the fallen tree had protected her long enough for Nerissa to kill the Red.
Enala shuddered as she realised how close she’d come to death. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at the dragon. “Thank you, Nerissa,” she choked, hugging herself.
You are welcome, child, Nerissa replied. I looked all night for you. You are a long way from Dragon Country.
“How did you find me?” she coughed, pulling herself to her feet. Stumbling across the clearing, she hugged the dragon’s giant face.
A rumble came from Nerissa’s chest, one of warmth and love and joy. The path of destruction was not hard to follow, once I found it. But I missed you in my first pass down the river, I only found the Red’s trail on my return.
Enala nodded. Suddenly remembering her exhaustion, she slumped down beside Nerissa. “Where are we?” she asked warily, leaning her head against the dragon’s great forearm.
Almost to Mount Chole, child, Nerissa replied. You led the Red quite the chase.
“Guess my parents were right after all,” she mumbled, sleep tugging at her.
They will be worried, came Nerissa’s reply. We should return.
Enala nodded. Her parents would be terrified. She had never spent an entire night away from home. Usually their little escapades ended well before dark, and she would return in time for a pre-dinner scolding. No doubt her parents would be out on Enduran, searching. But so far beyond the border of Dragon Country, they were unlikely to find her.
Despite the sense of urgency, Enala’s body refused to obey. Sleep tugged at her, robbing the last of her strength from her limbs. Her eyelids slowly drooped closed.
I don’t think I could hold on to you, Nerissa, she thought, too exhausted to speak. I’ll slide right off you.
Your parents… Nerissa began, but Enala was already falling, vanishing into the darkness of sleep.
8
When Enala woke, the noonday sun was high in the sky. Opening her eyes, she squinted into the light. She shuddered as words whispered through her thoughts, left over from sleep, so she could not recall what her dreams had been of.
You will never leave this place.
You will remain here forever.
You cannot be trusted.
The words tugged at her mind, pervasive. She frowned, knowing they were her parent’s voices, yet surely, they would never say such things. She was a woman grown now, an adult by all rights. They couldn’t keep her locked away in Dragon Country. She had a right to make her own choices.
Those choices almost got you killed, came her mother’s voice.
Shaking her head, Enala forced the voices away and sat up. Nerissa lay curled around her, the soft rumbles of the dragon’s slumber filling the clearing. Apparently, the night had left the dragon more exhausted than she had admitted. Enala winced as she saw the long gashes in Nerissa’s golden scales. They would leave scars. She wondered what that would mean for a Gold dragon.
Enala’s gaze travelled around the clearing until her eyes settled on the Red dragon. Squaring her shoulders, she walked around Nerissa to look at the dead beast. Her nose wrinkled as she breathed in. Before, the Red had carried with it the scent of rotting meat. Now, the stench filled the clearing, so strong her gut roiled.
She shuddered. The Red’s bulk lay amongst the broken trees, filling half the clearing that had been created when it crashed down through the canopy. How she had evaded it for so long was beyond her. But, if anything, surely that meant Enala had proved to her parents she was ready. She had faced down a Red dragon, and survived. Sure, she’d needed Nerissa at the end, but still…
You were foolish, immature. You will never be ready.
Enala flinched at the imaginary voice. Shaking her head, she backed away from the dragon. For a second it seemed alive again, its great bulk shifting in the shadows, preparing to leap up and eat her.
She shook her head, steadying herself. Looking at the dragon again, she nodded, reassured it remained dead.
You will spend the rest of your life in Dragon Country.
“No!” the word tore itself from Enala’s lips.
She swung around, half expecting to see her parents standing there. But she stood alone in the noonday sun. Shadows clung to the edges of the clearing, seeming to swirl as the breeze blew across the trees. For a second they seemed to stretch towards her…
Enala blinked, and the shadows stilled.
But the thoughts remained, the fear. Looking at the Red dragon, sh
e imagined her parents’ reaction. They had trained Enala not just to fight and hunt and survive, but to be smart, to outthink her opponents. She was meant to avoid putting herself in life-threatening situations.
Instead, she’d placed herself square in danger’s path.
They might not lock her away forever, but she was right about one thing. Her parents would never trust her alone after this. It would be years before they allowed her to ride Nerissa again, and who knew how long before they returned to civilisation.
The thought chilled Enala’s heart. She’d been so hopeful this would be the year, that since she was a woman, they might finally relent, and return with her to Chole. She had allowed herself to hope for a real life, for real, human friends.
But now those hopes would prove no more than fantasies. She would never be allowed to venture beyond the borders of Dragon Country.
Except, just now, Enala was already well beyond those borders.
Blinking, Enala looked up through the shattered canopy. She turned slowly, scanning the edge of the trees, searching the horizon. The glint of white gave away Mount Chole, rising up into the sky. She shivered at the sight. She had only ever seen the mountain from a dragon back. On the ground, even from the tallest tree in Dragon Country, the snowy peak could not be seen.
Yet there it was, rising into the sky, beckoning. Beyond the stark peak, Chole waited, the city of her childhood.
No, you can’t, she thought, shaking her head.
But you must, another voice replied.
Enala shivered. Her eyes settled on the sleeping Nerissa, her mind torn. The dragon would never consent to her leaving for the city. She would drag Enala back tooth and claw if she had to. Much as they were friends, Nerissa respected Enala’s mother too much.
Tears stung Enala’s eyes as she realised her decision had already been made. For a second she wanted to run to the dragon, to hug her warm scales to her chest, and tell the great golden beast she loved her. But that would only wake Nerissa. Then Enala would have to return to her parents, would have to face their reprimands and anger, and be locked away from the world.
Swallowing her grief, Enala straightened her shoulders and faced the mountains. She didn’t know when she would see the dragon next – if they would ever see each other again, for that matter. She owed Nerissa her life, and more, but Enala also knew she couldn’t stay. If she stayed, her life would never come to anything.
Silently, Enala moved into the trees. At the last second, she turned back, her eyes lingering on the golden form of Nerissa. A lump caught in her throat, and she almost returned, almost cast aside her plan and moved to wake her dragon.
Then her resolve returned. Shaking off her grief, Enala turned away. “Farewell, my friend,” she whispered as she set out through the forest.
9
“Oi!”
Enala spun as a man shouted behind her. The hot sticky bun almost slipped from her fingers. She fumbled it for a second before catching it firmly with her left hand. Slipping it into her sash, she turned to face the storekeeper. Eyes wide, she flashed him a look of pure innocence.
“What’s wrong, sir?” she asked, smiling sweetly.
The man wasn’t having any of it. A baton appeared in his hand as he stepped out from behind his stall.
“Give it here,” he growled.
Raising her empty hands, Enala retreated a step. “Give what?”
“That’s it,” the man snapped and jumped at her, baton raised.
Spinning on her heel, Enala laughed as the man stumbled past her and crashed into a passing pedestrian. The two collapsed to the dusty cobblestones. A string of curses followed, but Enala didn’t waste any time trying to help them up. Snatching another bun from the stall for good measure, she took off down the street, the angry shouts of the baker chasing after her.
She ducked into an alleyway before anyone else took note of the girl fleeing the scene. Within minutes she had disappeared into the shady network of backstreets that criss-crossed the city. The maze was far from safe for a girl who’d just turned sixteen, but for the last year Enala’s lessons had served her well. After all, if her parents had taught her anything, it was how to persevere, and survive.
When Enala was sure she’d lost any potential pursuers, she settled herself into a nook in the mud brick walls to claim her prize. Her stomach rumbled as she took the first bun from her pocket. She stifled a moan as she bit into the sweet pastry, savouring its taste on her tongue. In the past year she had rarely tasted anything so pleasant, and for a moment her stomach twisted, and she felt a yearning for the past she’d left behind.
Quickly pushing down the feeling, Enala shook her head. This was her life now, her path. She’d made her choice, now she had to live with it.
Savouring the sweet bun, she laid her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. The year hadn’t been easy – nothing like what Enala had expected when she’d first set out from Dragon Country. The trek to the city had taken a day and a night, but that had been the easy part. On arriving, she found a city very different to the one she’d left behind as a child.
Perhaps it was only because her ten-year-old self had seen the wonders of Chole through rose-tinted vision, but the Chole she found was far harder, far less forgiving than the one in her memories. In those first few days, it quickly became obvious why Chole was nicknamed the Dying City.
She’d first arrived with a vague idea of finding work in a stable or inn. While Enala had never poured a drink in her life, she was a fast learner and eager to make her way in the world. She was even a decent hand in the kitchen should the cooks need help.
But it hadn’t taken long for her idea of finding reputable work to crumble. With only a few inns in the city, opportunities were limited. Likewise, most stables and restaurants had long since gone out of business. The drought meant hay and food had to be imported, making it too costly to stock for all but the wealthiest establishments. And they had no interest in hiring a seedy looking girl from the forest.
On the other hand, there were more than enough less reputable employment opportunities on hand. More than one innkeeper had suggested he might find work for a pretty young thing like herself – but it wouldn’t be in the kitchen. The first to make such a proposal had quickly found himself on the floor. But as the weeks passed by, Enala quickly learnt the ones who only suggested such things were the least of her worries.
There were darker sides of Chole she had yet to discover.
Thankfully, one innkeeper had at least been kind enough to offer her a dagger. It was small and of poor quality, but without any coin she wasn’t about to find anything better. That dagger had saved her life on more than one occasion.
They’d first come for Enala in her second week in the city. They must have been watching her for a while – since they came at night, to the abandoned building she’d claimed as her own. But they obviously hadn’t expected a fight.
Enala wasn’t sure what had woken her that night. The scrape of a boot on stone, the soft whisper of a man’s voice, or perhaps it had just been intuition, a sense she was no longer alone. She’d snapped from sleep to full-alertness just seconds before they grabbed her.
As the thick fingers had closed around her leg, Enala had already been reaching for the dagger she kept tucked beneath her makeshift pillow. She’d known instantly whoever had her was far larger and stronger than she was, and, as her hand closed around the dagger hilt, she’d found herself being dragged bodily across the room.
Twisting in his grip, she’d kicked out with her free leg. The blow had connected with something solid. A muffled curse had followed, and while the man’s grip did not loosen, it gave Enala the chance to sit up.
That was all she needed.
Before her assailant could resume dragging her from the house, Enala had lashed out with the dagger, driving it deep into the arm that held her. A scream rattled through the darkness and she’d glimpsed a large shadow lurching away from her.
Dagge
r still in hand, she’d leapt to her feet as a second shadow darted in. Enala had never seen the baton, but she’d heard the whistle as something whipped towards her. Throwing herself to the side, she heard the shriek of steel on the stone wall. Rolling to her feet, she swung her gaze around the room, glimpsing a man writhing on the ground, another still standing.
As he swung towards her, Enala darted in, head low, dagger clenched tight at her side. The man lifted his baton, clearly unaware what exactly she’d done to his comrade, and Enala had driven the dagger deep into the soft flesh of his stomach. He gave a choked cry as she tore it downward, then jerked it back. Steel rang again as the baton struck the ground.
Enala hadn’t waited around to see what happened to the men. Sweeping up her jacket, she’d fled through the backdoor, and never looked back.
After that, though, she had never slept in the same place for more than a few nights in a row, and she always made sure to check if she was being followed before returning to her hideout. It was a tough life, but whenever she thought of returning home, of admitting to her parents her foolishness and begging their forgiveness, she steeled herself and continued on.
And for the most part, she’d gotten by. She’d dropped several stone, but even when starving, she rarely resorted to theft. Given the struggles of her fellow citizens, she tried to keep to scavenging whatever discarded food she could find. Except on occasion, like today. Sure, sweet buns were no birthday cake, but they were as good as she was going to get for this birthday. She supposed at least she didn’t have to spend the day playing war games with her father in Dragon Country.
Thinking of her family brought a pang to Enala’s chest, and she quickly shook her head and stood. Closing off her heart, she stared into the shadows, forcing the distant memories from her mind. She gritted her teeth, the breath catching in her throat. A desire to run took her, and she stepped back out into the alley without looking.
Defiant Guardians Anthology Page 29