When is she going to wake up?
Rib stared apprehensively at Damara. Servants had dried her off and laid her in a bed heavily downed with blankets and furs, never forcing Rib outside the large hall. Zheal and Memory had long ago disappeared, but Rib knew they'd be back.
Is she ever going to wake up?
He looked through his inner eyelids to check that Damara's magics were moving at a normal pace. They were. He could also see her heart beating stronger. The blankets piled on top of her rose and fell with her deepened breathing.
She looks alright. No one else seems worried anymore.
A few servants remained in the hall, warming stew over a fire and murmuring Huskhn words amongst each other. Rib saw them cast a few wary glances at him.
How am I supposed to act now? he wondered, recalling what Zheal had said in the glacier. They know I'm not bewitched, but they still think I'm a slave.
And not just a slave?someone without a will.
Like Memory.
Rib squeezed his eyes shut at the thought.
No. Memory has a will. She must.
But why does she do Zheal's bidding?
Rib heard Damara stir and watched her begin to awaken. Her brow furrowed as she shifted under the blankets, then with a start she opened her eyes. She looked frightened, staring around at the unfamiliar, Huskhn hall. Then her gaze fell on Rib and she relaxed.
She's relieved to see me. Rib was warmed by the softening of her eyes and he smiled, just barely.
The servants noticed her awake and got a bowl of stew, urging her to take it in their unusual language. Damara sat herself up and looked at the Huskhns mistrustfully, only taking the bowl when they forced it on her.
Nothing seemed suspicious about the chunky broth, Rib thought, and the steam coming off of it appeared friendly enough. With a short whine, he nosed Damara's hands holding the bowl, like a dog concerned for its master.
Please eat it, he tried to tell her through his eyes. I can tell you're feeling weak.
Damara pursed her lips at him, then slowly lifted the bowl to her lips and drank from it. She swallowed a mouthful, waited, and soon downed the rest of it. As soon as she had, the servants took the bowl to fill it again, but at that moment the huge hall doors opened.
Damara grew tense and ignored the second bowl of stew offered to her. Both she and Rib stared as Zheal entered, followed by Memory.
Zheal halted in place, Memory peering past him. For a couple seconds they stayed like that, human and dragon regarding each other. Then, with a gratified smile, he motioned to the servants to leave the hall.
The large doors shut behind them, enclosing strange silence around the four left inside.
"Hello, Damara," Zheal spoke and drew closer to the foot of the bed. "You're looking better. Do you feel well?"
Beside Rib, Damara took a quiet, calm breath.
"I'm fine," she answered.
Zheal rested his hand on Memory's head, which she kept low as she gazed up at Rib. Rib held his sister's eyes with his own, trying to read the thoughts behind them.
She looks timid, curious, shy?
But what is she thinking?
"I apologize for not being here sooner," Zheal said to Damara. "I was checking on your firebreather."
Jacinth.
"Where is she?" Damara asked, clenching the pelts at her sides.
The young man smiled reassuringly. With an agreeable countenance and handsome features, Rib couldn't deny the Huskhn had a seemingly pleasant air about him.
It's just his wicked charm, Rib told himself. He's a horrible, horrible human being.
"My men have her contained. She's fallen into some sort of unconscious state after her madness. I promise we've done her no harm, although, I wonder what it is that happened to her wings." Zheal paused, apparently waiting for Damara to give an explanation. When she remained silent, he turned his eyes to Rib, an inquisitive expression on his face.
Rib felt frozen, unsure of how to behave.
"I've seen this dragon before," Zheal mentioned.
What?! Fear struck Rib in the heart. How does he recognize me? Does he know I'm pretending?
"He was in Wystil the day I got Tairg," Zheal went on and stroked Memory's scales in affection.
Realizing it was just by his unique color that the Huskhn must have recognized him, Rib's alarm gave way to anger.
The day you stole Tairg, he corrected silently.
"They were a couple little ones then," the Huskhn went on. "With a wizard. That old man sent this dragon flying home when I took Tairg from him."
Rib startled as Zheal reached up and touched his muzzle.
"How did you get him?" the young man asked Damara, still peering at Rib.
What should she say? Rib was intimidated by the intelligent spark in Zheal's eyes. How are we supposed to fool him?
"I caught him," Damara responded. "Raised him under me."
"Ah." Zheal broke into a grin, lifting Rib's lips to see his white fangs. "Then we are the same. What have you named him?"
"Rib."
"Rib," Zheal echoed, his voice cool and admiring.
This is the one who took my sister. And now he regards me as a prized animal.
Rib was so unnerved, it took all his self-control to not recoil from the man.
"And why did you give him the Eyes of Kings?"
Oh no! Rib wanted to squeeze his eyes shut to hide the truth, though he knew it would not matter. How can she explain that?
He wasn't sure he could handle any more of these well-aimed questions. And he wasn't even the one who had to make up answers to them.
"Think of it," Damara said without delay, "as a mark of our bond. He sees things as I do."
"You're fond of him, then?" Zheal nodded as though it made perfect sense to him. "Well, he's certainly got my dragon intrigued. I think Tairg remembers him."
Really?
Rib flinched when the Huskhn clapped a hand on his neck.
"Go on," the young man said. "Let's see how you like each other now."
He's talking to me? Rib was astonished, stepping towards Memory as Zheal encouraged him to. It was just like when humans let their monigons meet before the hunt.
Memory drew back a little from Rib, then perked up, stretching forward to sniff him. When she did, she blinked and switched into a rather playful mood, bobbing in front of him and flexing her wings.
Rib stared at her.
She acts like an animal.
Sadness seeped into him as it became clear why his sister never ran away from her captors.
She really can't think for herself. They took her at too young of an age?
Zheal laughed and Rib looked back at him, something like hatred filling his every bone for the Huskhn Heir. He had to remind himself that if it weren't for Zheal, Damara would have died in the cold. It was one of few things that kept Rib from breaking character and throwing him to the ground.
I can still help Memory. This horror can be resolved.
"Tairg seems happy enough," Zheal commented in good-humor. "Perhaps Rib will warm up to her."
Damara looked highly uncomfortable with the Huskhn Heir so close, her posture stiff. Zheal must have sensed it, for he stood back up and cleared his throat.
"I must ask," he said, growing serious. "How did you get a firebreather? They're so rare, I thought Crageria held the last one. Surely you didn't get her at a young age as well? It wouldn't make sense."
How should he know? Rib thought. Oh. Oriole.
She probably told him everything.
Well, now what can Damara say?
He looked to the young woman.
"I found Jacinth on the Island," Damara answered. "Rib pinned her for me and I won her submission through?harsher methods than I prefer."
"So that's what happened to her wings," Zheal said. "I can see why she's obeyed you all this time. A shame the firesap's taken over her."
He knows of the firesap, too? Oriole!
No, it's
alright. Damara's still fooling him.
"Zheal," Damara spoke, pushing the covers off of her. "Take me to Jacinth."
"I will." The Huskhn leaned against her bed post, arms folded. "Once you've recovered."
"I'm fine."
Zheal smiled. "You could do with the rest. Besides, I have more questions for you. What's your story? How did you learn to craft the bewitchment powder?"
How many lies does she have to come up with?
"That doesn't matter," Damara said. "I need to craft more for my sea serpent."
"My servants are gathering ingredients now," the young man assured her. "It will take time, but your serpent won't be going anywhere. Relax."
She ground her teeth, looking far from relaxed. Rib startled when his sister crept up beside him, nuzzling him with a purr.
Memory?Rib pressed the crown of his head into her. How am I supposed to help you?
Zheal glanced at them and shifted his feet.
"Why did you flee from me, Damara?" he asked.
Damara took a breath. "I thought you would interpret Jacinth's madness as my attack on your homeland. I'd already lied to the Captain that my dragons were bewitched, because I didn't think anyone would believe me otherwise."
Zheal shook his head. "No, you're proof of what I've been telling them. This isn't a matter of conquering an island of dragons and crafting magic to control them the rest of our lives. We need only bewitch the adults. Their young we can raise like Tairg, like Rib."
He wants to breed them like monigons? That's horrible!
"Yes?" Damara met the Huskhn's eyes. "It will become their nature to do as we say."
"Precisely." Zheal grinned broader. "I'd never expect a Wystilian to agree with me, yet here you are. My uncle should be glad to meet you."
"The Chief?" Damara asked.
Zheal nodded. "Now that we have a firebreather, he's sure to give his consent. Soon we'll craft our magic, gather the troops and be off. What an heir I'll be then, leading Husk's most successful invasion." He smirked.
This is bad?How are we going to escape before he uses Jacinth's fire to craft the powder?
What frightened Rib even more was the shine in Damara's eyes as she agreed, "It will be as though you've already taken the throne."
How can she act so well? It's like she's actually excited for him.
Isn't she concerned?
We must get to Wystil.
Chapter 24
Dragon Fool Page 25