"Well done, Gavin!" Griffith praised from Oriole's back as she alighted on the field before them. "You must come to my Fairy Realm immediately. There, my naiads can heal you."
Naiads? Rib looked at Gavin's injured arm, still alarmed by the sight of blood soaking through the fabric Damara tied around it.
"What shall we do with Duke Wetsy's beast, Your Majesty?" a servant asked, approaching Griffith.
"Ah." Griffith peered over at the dead monigon. "Take it to my Fairy Realm."
What does he want it for? Rib wondered in disgust, watching two servants heave the animal up into a cart.
"Sir," Gavin spoke up. "Please, can you help my dragon hound?" He sat on the ground with Hesper heaving for air in his lap. Many of her scales had been torn away from her hide, leaving gaping wounds to ooze blood over the rest of her. Rib feared she was dying.
"Certainly!" The King regarded Hesper's feeble body. "Load her into the cart with the other," he ordered his servants.
Tenderly, the men lifted Hesper from Gavin's lap and set her in the bed atop a folded blanket. The monigon whimpered, rolling her head to see her master stand up. Rib recognized the worry in Gavin's face as he stroked Hesper's head before the cart was wheeled away.
"Now," Griffith said. "We must make haste. Can you fly with that arm?" He peered at Gavin, nodding to his injury.
"Fly?" Gavin repeated, his face ashen.
He's never flown before, Rib thought. He's terrified to!
"It'll be fine." Damara stepped up and placed a hand on Gavin's shoulder. "I'll go with you."
The young man swallowed nervously, but did not protest.
"Excellent," Griffith said, straightening on Oriole's back. "Hurry, then."
Rib crouched down low so Gavin could get into the saddle. He felt his friend's legs trembling against his scales as the human straddled the base of his neck. Then Damara mounted the same saddle behind him and Rib stood.
"Gavin," Jasper said from the ground, his voice deeper now. "Father and I will take care of your other monigon at the port." Only now Rib noticed how much the boy had grown since they left Wystil, his body and his hair, which fell down to his shoulders in tar black waves.
Craning his head back, Rib saw Gavin nod to Jasper silently. Damara held the young man around the waist to keep him steady, but Rib was doubtful of her ability. Gavin looked almost ready to faint, and there was no way Damara could keep his dead weight in the saddle while flying. Rib would suggest walking instead, if Gavin weren't still bleeding through his poor bandages.
I need to be ready to catch him.
"Let us fly!" Griffith declared and Oriole beat her feathery wings. The plumed tip of the dragon's tail swished as she rose into the air, graceful as a bird.
Rib felt Gavin's knees dig into him when he struck the ground, ascending after Oriole. Looking down, he saw Jasper squint up at them and Mortaug raise his hand in farewell.
Soon they passed over the cart where Hesper still lay, headed in the same direction. Rib focused on the weight on his back, trying to determine how Gavin and Damara were doing. Both seemed to be in place still.
Peering ahead, Rib wondered, Is that it?
Oriole was headed toward a castle-like structure built up against the base of a steep cliff. On the higher land ran a stream that descended in a beautiful waterfall, pouring someplace inside the castle wall. Built into the stone partition was a grate, through which the stream gushed to continue its way over the land. Rib tried to see more inside the curtain wall, but could only glimpse the tops of trees before following Oriole down to the ground.
They landed before a moat surrounding the castle-like structure, across from a large board that covered what appeared to be the wall's gate. As soon as Rib's feet touched the ground, Gavin stumbled off his back, barely catching himself before falling on his injured arm. Damara leapt after him to help.
Strange animal calls Rib could not identify came from the castle-like structure.
"Lower the drawbridge!" Griffith ordered and the board was let down across the moat.
Monigons and mock dragons?
Rib gawked at the archway it led to, or rather what was inside, but was distracted as Griffith turned to Damara and said, "You stay out here."
"What?!" Damara objected.
"Please, Sir," Gavin panted, still swaying on his feet. "She's with us."
The King studied Damara with cold eyes. Rib was worried as the young woman glared right back.
Why won't he let her come? She'll probably force her way inside no matter what.
"I cannot allow just anyone into my forest," Griffith said. "The Fairies would not be pleased. She may earn passage this coming dawn, but for now we will address your arm, Gavin."
With that, he and Oriole entered the Fairy Realm. Gavin held onto Rib as they crossed the drawbridge after them, leaving Damara behind. Rib glanced back at her where she stood alone, arms at her sides, soon blocked from sight by the drawbridge that was lifted.
"Welcome to my Fairy Realm!" Griffith declared, jumping down from Oriole's back and sweeping his outstretched hand to the scene before them. "Come, I will take you to the naiads!"
Rib stared, dumbfounded by the sight of freakish things all around him. They walked down a path lined with plants and trees, if that is what they could be called. One tree appeared to be made of whale blubber, rubbery and kept slick by squat bearded men that dutifully ran wet rags over it. Another plant had leaves like whiskers, housing a light grey creature Rib guessed to be part snake, squirrel, and dove all at once.
"I don't understand," Rib groaned to Gavin, who stumbled along looking just as stunned as he was. "Why? Why any of this?"
"What's that fragrance?" the young man whispered, his voice scratchy. "It's so heavy I can taste it."
Despite his lack of smell, Rib thought he could detect it too, his mouth slightly agape as he breathed in. He also noticed how peacefully quiet the forest was considering how many unusual beasts inhabited it. It was rather eerie.
Soon, their path came alongside a stream, which they followed a ways up to where the waterfall created a great pool at the foot of the cliff. On the banks was a meadow covered with rings of mushrooms. In each circle was a miniscule girl with wings. Rib watched as one passionately defended her mushrooms from a hungry bird, which hopped around the ring and refused to leave though the girl assailed it with thorns. Another winged girl came to help the first, snapping what appeared to be a tiny whip.
Griffith reminded Rib of a delighted child as he sprang to the water's edge and called, "Ladies, we have need of you!"
Rib narrowed his eyes to peer through the waterfall's mist, trying to make out the faces that turned towards them. At the King's call, the heads disappeared underwater. Rib drew closer, waiting for whatever would happen next.
Lilies rested on the water in front of them, and Rib was just studying their fox ear petals when a woman, bare and pale green, appeared just under the surface. Rib started. The water nymph peered up at him before silently breaking through the water, rising with dark hair dripping, lips slightly parted. Gills striped her graceful neck on either side.
Blinking, she turned her attention to Griffith, soon joined by half a dozen other women. All of them stayed mostly submerged, smooth skin gleaming in the light.
"Here, Gavin," the King said, reaching out to the young man. "Come close."
Gavin exchanged a dubious look with Rib before moving forward, still holding his injured arm. The naiads reached out, wordlessly convincing him to kneel on the bank and let them remove the blood soaked cloth from his forearm.
All seven of them crowded around, mewling in pity over the mangled flesh. The one closest to Gavin ran her fingers through her sopping hair, taking the glistening film that transferred to her hand close to the man's wound.
"Uh-" Gavin began to object, but the nymph gripped his arm by the injury and held tight, even when he gasped in pain. Two other naiads did the same, until every inch of his wound was covered by their glimmer
ing hands.
Gavin looked back at Rib, grimacing. Rib opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't think of what.
"There, see?" the King gloated as the nymphs let go of Gavin's arm. "Fresh as a newborn!"
Both Rib and Gavin stared down at the injury once there, now gone. All that was left was the shiny film coating his dark grey skin.
"Will they do this for Hesper?" Gavin mumbled incredulously.
"No, they will not," the King answered. "Your dragon hound is in need of a special potion, which I shall happily craft this instant."
Straightening up, he gave a sharp, long whistle through his fingers and Rib shook his head in discomfort of its shrill pitch. Suddenly, a winged girl no bigger than a man's open hand zipped towards them.
"Yes, Lord Griffith?" the tiny woman said. "You called?" Rib marveled at her shock of blue hair, whirring hummingbird wings, and bright dress. Slung over her head, with its string across her breasts, was a bow. On her belt was a quiver full of tiny arrows, as well as a sheathed knife, a couple drawstring bags, and a whip.
What does she need all that for? Rib was mystified.
"Fetch me my book," Griffith ordered, "and bring it to my workplace."
"Certainly, Sir!" she agreed, curtsying in midair before speeding away again.
"Who was that?" Rib asked, staring in the direction she so quickly disappeared.
"My head fae servant, Spryte," Griffith breathed. "Never have I been happier with the work of a woman. Something about her keeps all the others focused on their labor and nothing else, just as it should be."
Gavin frowned. "So where is this 'workplace' of yours?"
"Come and I will show you," Griffith said, waving them on, towards the looming cliff.
"Thank you," Gavin talked to the nymphs still standing in the water, but they simply hummed a melody and slipped away. The young man looked from the pool to Rib and shrugged.
Together, they followed after the King and Oriole.
"When will you request the cure?" Rib asked his friend quietly.
Gavin rubbed the back of his neck with his miraculously healed arm. "My victory was rather glanced over, wasn't it? Whenever he mentions the prize, I suppose."
But what if he doesn't? Rib worried. And I still have to ask Oriole about Memory?
Griffith led them all the way to the base of the towering cliff, where rocks formed a flat, raised platform. The King took the steps that led up to it two by two, smoothing out his kilt as he reached the top.
"This is my workplace," he announced soon as Gavin and Rib joined him.
Really? Rib was surprised by the simplicity of it. Besides the fine mist that blew from the waterfall, there was nothing there except a ring of rocks with a cauldron hung over it by a three-legged stand. That, and a stout column of rock with cooking utensils set on top of it.
"Your book, Sir," Spryte said, returning from the direction of the waterfall.
Rib gawked as he saw the tiny woman heaving a large book through the air.
That's Damon's book! How does she fly with it?
"Very good, give it here." Griffith held his hands out, palms up, and the fae servant set the heavy object down.
"Anything else?" she asked, hovering in front of him.
"Yes, make sure the gnomes are prepared to carry two dragon hounds here," the King said. "A cart should be arriving with them soon."
"I will see to it," Spryte promised and zipped away.
"Now, let's see," Griffith murmured to himself, opening the book and flipping through the leaves. Rib peered at the seemingly blank pages and remembered Clyde telling him that the recipes were written in magic.
How few people must be able to read them, then.
With a spark in his eye, the King asked Gavin, "Now, do you want your dragon hound to have long fur, or hare ears, or I could give her a venomous bite-"
"No," Gavin groaned. "Please, I just want you to heal her."
"Just heal her?" the King snorted. "Oh, very well then. Let's see, that should be?Ah-ha! Here it is." The man kept the book open at a certain place and set it down on the thick rock column, running one finger down the right page. "Yes, yes, I have all these. And look! Here comes your dragon hound now, Gavin."
Hesper. Rib looked anxiously to where the King pointed.
What?!
Down the same path they'd come, two monigon bodies seemed to roll over the land. As he narrowed his eyes on them, he saw that they were being carried by little bearded men with pointed hats. Each gnome held his hands high to support the heavy burden, marching in unison with his fellow laborers.
Without a word to the King, Gavin rushed down to Hesper. Rib watched his friend's body language, relieved when he noticed Gavin relax.
She's still alive.
"Hmm. Do join me as I gather the magics, Rib," Griffith told him. "It should be but a short walk."
As the King requested, Rib followed the man that strolled through the meadow as he pointed at individual mushrooms for the fae servants to retrieve. Oriole kept close by, explaining things in Rib's ear.
"Each mushroom has a special type of magic inside it," she hushed. "Only those with the Eyes of Kings can see the difference between them."
"Why are the gnomes placing that dead monigon there?" Rib asked, watching the little strange men drop Duke Wetsy's brute in the middle of a circle.
"Lord Griffith wants the mushrooms to feed on it. Once they take the magics inside it, then he can use them in his potions," Oriole answered. "And even when he picks a mushroom with a certain type of magic in it, another mushroom with the same magic is sure to appear soon after. He says the magics live in the ground, held inside whatever connects each mushroom to its ring."
Rib cocked his head, not quite understanding, but not bothering to question further.
"No, not that one!" Griffith growled at an especially flustered fae servant. "I meant the one next to it!"
"Sorry, Your Highness," the winged girl gasped, moving to the mushroom he indicated and straining her back against it. All at once, the mushroom popped out of the ground, causing the tiny servant to fall backwards. "Sorry!" she panted again and gripped it by the stem.
Griffith did not crouch to make her job any easier, but simply held out his hand as she heaved the mushroom up to him.
How can she have such trouble carrying a mushroom when Spryte was able to carry an entire book? Rib wondered.
When at last the King had gathered all the mushrooms he needed for the potion, they returned to his workplace, where Gavin knelt with Hesper. Rib took one look at the hurting monigon and feared the worst would soon be upon her.
"How long should this take you?" Rib asked the King fretfully as Oriole lit the kindling beneath his cauldron with her breath.
Griffith waggled a finger at him, saying, "Art cannot be rushed."
Rib watched as gnomes fetched the King buckets of water, which was poured into the cauldron. Griffith followed along the invisible recipe, dropping in one mushroom after another and stirring the liquid with relish.
"Smell that?" the King asked, a grin across his ruddy-haired face. "Ah, magic?"
What does it smell like? Is it almost done? Is Hesper still alive?
Finally, Griffith peered into his cauldron and nodded his head. "That looks right," he said.
At his whistle, Spryte reappeared to take the potion book back, heading towards the waterfall.
Come on, come on! Rib begged Griffith silently as the man dipped a ladle into the simmering potion and carried it over to Hesper. The monigon was too weary to even lift her eyelids, until Griffith poured the scalding liquid over her wounds. Then she screeched in agony, eyes flying open, claws scratching at the stone floor.
"You're hurting her!" Rib cried.
"I know what I'm doing," Griffith answered simply, going back to his cauldron for another ladle-full.
Poor Hesper!
By the third or fourth time, the monigon just whimpered, gazing up at her master knee
ling worriedly over her.
"Hush, girl," Gavin comforted her. "Sweet Hesp?"
"There!" the King proclaimed, throwing aside the ladle and looking down at the monigon, his hands on hips. "Give her a few days and she'll be perky as a pup!"
She will? Rib gazed at Hesper, doubtful, though the monigon was quiet now and breathing evenly.
"Here's to winning Dragon Round!" the King congratulated Gavin. "Cheers!"
Gavin creased his brow, looking up from his monigon. "Thank you?and about that, Sir," he paused, "I know what I would like to request."
"Request?" the King echoed.
"Yes, for the potion," Gavin said. "For my prize."
"Why, I just made you your potion," the King replied. "I healed your dragon hound!"
"What?" Gavin's face slackened in shock. "But that's because she was dying!"
"That's the excitement of Dragon Round!" the King said. "They fight, they die. I only saved yours because you requested it as your prize."
No?Rib was aghast.
Gavin slowly rose to his feet. "Sir, I didn't know that would be considered my reward," he answered, voice steady and low. "Please, I need something else. Something very important."
"What?" the King scoffed. "A love potion?"
"No, Sir," Gavin said. "A cure, for the plague in Wystil. Hundreds are dying there and no one can save them but you."
"You expect me to help the Wystilians?" the King laughed spitefully. "What do I owe them?"
You stole Damon's book! Rib wanted to yell at the man. It's your fault he can't craft the cure himself. You at least owe us this much!
"Couldn't you just make it for them?" Oriole put in hopefully. "I'm sure they'd all be so grateful."
"No."
An idea struck Rib and he perked up. "We can trade you rare magic for it!" he said. "The last magic of the firesap fruit."
At this, Gavin cast him a perplexed look, and Rib realized that his friend must have no idea what he was talking about.
"Damara has it," Rib whispered to him.
"I don't need that," the King sneered. "I can create dragon creatures with a stir of my cauldron."
Gavin took a deep breath. "Please reconsider. We-"
"No!" the King snapped. "I won't hear another word of it. Now enjoy my Fairy Realm in peace, or get out."
Gavin bowed his head. "Yes, Your Majesty."
What? Rib was shocked. He's giving in? But we need this cure!
As though knowing Rib was about to object, Gavin met his eyes and shook his head definitively.
Rib shut his mouth.
What is he thinking?
Straightening his crown, the King left them, long robe sweeping over the stone steps as he went. Rib watched angrily until the man undressed on the bank and dove into the pool for a swim.
"I'm so sorry," Oriole lamented from where she'd been standing all this time, feathers lying flat over her breast in sadness. "He never likes to help other kingdoms. Not Wystil, not Husk-"
"Zheal!" Rib blurted out, suddenly reminded of what he'd wanted to ask her about. "Why was he going to be executed? Did you meet the dragon with him? Do you know where they went?"
"Oh!" Oriole blinked in surprise. "Well?um?"
"Can you just tell us what happened?" Gavin made things simpler for her.
Oriole nodded, a stray plume bobbing over her eyes. "A few weeks ago, Zheal came asking for His Majesty's aid in crafting a potion, but got turned down. I felt bad for him, so I helped him try to make it while Lord Griffith was away?But he was caught in the process and Tairg had to fly away with him before His Majesty had him executed?" The dragon let her voice die out.
"Do you know where they went?" Rib begged.
Oriole glanced at Griffith now swimming under the waterfall. "I'm not sure," she whispered, "but I think he went to the Island."
"The Island?"
Oriole nodded again. "Where the Colonists are. Lord Griffith sent servants there with the firesap cure, but one firebreather wasn't given it because he was too dangerous to go near. I told Zheal about him when he exclaimed that dragon fire was what he'd been missing all this time. Zheal wanted to know more, but that's when Spryte sent for the guards."
"And so those Huskhns took Jasper in effort to get dragon fire from Rib," Gavin murmured.
Rib hardly heard Gavin's words, itching to hear about Memory. "Where is the Island?"
"Oh, somewhere near Husk, I think?He seemed to know of it." Oriole crouched down. "But don't tell His Majesty about this, alright? He wants to be the Sole Wizard of the World, you know?makes him awfully angry when he thinks he might not be."
"We won't tell him," Gavin promised, and the feathery female simpered.
"Did you meet Tairg?" Rib asked, forcing himself to speak the name his sister would be recognized by.
"Of course!" Oriole said, her face splitting into a smile.
"What was she like?!"
Oriole cocked her head, thinking.
"Quiet," she said after a moment. "But sweet. I don't think she understood a word I said. Just followed Zheal around. It was nice to see how happy they were together."
"Happy?" Rib repeated, blinking.
Oriole gave another nod.
No, Rib thought. She's wrong.
My sister can't be happy as a slave. It doesn't make any sense?
A soft whine came from the ground as Hesper awoke, lifting her weary head. Gavin went to her immediately, crouching down.
"Hey Hesp, my girl?Are you alright?"
The monigon rasped her forked tongue over his hand. Rib was amazed to see that her wounds had already sealed and her hide was beginning to mend.
The potion really is working. Relief touched Rib, until he thought again about the cure and his sister.
What are we going to do?
Chapter 13
Dragon Fool Page 14