Redheart (Leland Dragon Series)

by Jackie Gamber

  Kallon was suddenly alert to Blackclaw’s words. “How much gentler?” he asked. “What about my friends?”

  “What about them? They stand for their own crimes.”

  “But if I were to tell you it was I who was working with the human hunter, not the girl, would you release her?”

  “Kallon!” Brownwing touched his shoulder.

  Blackclaw blinked. “I could not allow you to live, Red, if you were to admit such a thing.”

  “Nevertheless, would my confession release the girl?”

  “He does not know what he is saying!” Brownwing shook Kallon’s shoulder as though trying to wake him. “You still have the quest! You have the opportunity to redeem yourself.”

  “But what is the point?” Kallon asked. “I needed to prove Blackclaw’s wrongdoing, and I failed.”

  “The Red finally speaks the truth!” Blackclaw opened his palm and thrust it toward Kallon. “His attempts to prove his accusations were in vain!”

  There came a gruff shout in perfect dragonspeak. “That is only because you were all searching in the wrong place!” It was Armitage’s voice. Kallon turned. There stood the human, wrists still bound in chains as before, feet planted wide on the platform. He wore his vest. “If I had been allowed to speak before now, I would have concurred with the Red.”

  “You are our prisoner! You would say anything to save yourself!” Blackclaw waved Grayfoot toward Armitage. “Gag him.”

  “I say let him speak,” said Yellowfang. She lifted her chin, and stared directly at Blackclaw. “If he speaks only lies, let them be added to his judgment.”

  Council members rose from their places, jaws working and paws gesturing. The crowd was awash in frantic mumbling. Blackclaw, for the first time, appeared shaken. His jaw moved for a moment without words, and then he blurted, “Of course he will only speak lies!”

  “Let him speak,” said Brownwing.

  “Let him speak,” said someone from the crowd.

  “Let him speak!” Orman shouted, and clapped Armitage on the back.

  Armitage held his bound wrists over his head. Grayfoot approached, scowling. “Search my waistline for a hidden pouch,” said Armitage. “It is payment for services rendered.”

  Grayfoot paused. He glanced at Brownwing, who urged him on. Then he glanced at Blackclaw, who came blundering toward him. “Enough of this nonsense! Gag the prisoner and take him back to his cell.”

  “Services rendered?” Orman himself reached toward Armitage’s waist, his palms patting, patting, patting. “Well, I’ll be.” He fished out a pouch tucked just behind Armitage’s hip, and held it up. A shaft of morning sun drenched the velvet pouch. In the sudden silence, Kallon could almost hear the crackle of the flames in the embroidered crest of Mount Gore Manor.

  Someone’s tail dropped to the dusty arena floor. Leathery eyelids slid over dry eyes. Even the early clouds slammed into each other in the silence, knocking about in the pink dawn. Then Kallon pointed, and his soft voice rippled like thunder. “Fordon Blackclaw murdered Bluecrest to stir hatred for humans and enrage us into war with them.”

  “No.” Blackclaw stared in disbelief. “He is lying.”

  Grayfoot looked from Armitage to Blackclaw. “But I searched him. I searched every inch of him.”

  Things began happening very quickly. Kallon reeled, staring at Armitage, while the council lapsed into chaotic shouting. They gathered around Blackclaw, who raged and bullied. Behind him, the crowd was still eerily quiet, and Kallon had to peer over his shoulder to see if they were still watching. They were. Eyes stared in confusion and sadness.

  Yellowfang’s voice rose up over the din. “The evidence is enough to convince me. Blackclaw must immediately be removed from leadership.”

  An orange paw waved. “I second.”

  “This is an outrage!” Blackclaw’s stomping feet rumbled the platform. “The human is a liar, a thief, and a murderer!”

  “I am no thief!” Armitage shouted.

  Brownwing gestured for the council to quiet. “Shera Yellowfang will serve as interim leader until the Red returns from his quest.”

  “I am leader! The Red will fail his quest. I am still your leader!” Blackclaw dove for Armitage’s belongings. His claws knocked the crossbow off the granite and it hit the ground in a puff of dust. Vials scattered. Blackclaw swung about, Armitage’s sword held high. “This Red will not be my undoing!”

  The council fell back in shock. Kallon barely had time to react. The oncoming swing of the blade dropped him back. He blasted flame at Blackclaw, but his foot caught up in Armitage’s chains, and he stumbled. His face, and his flame, skewed off to singe the council members, who were shouting and waving madly to Grayfoot to subdue the leader.

  “You will not come into my territory and knock me aside, Red!” Blackclaw swung the blade again, his features engorged with fury. For a moment, Kallon froze at the sight of the gleaming metal, and just then, for only a moment, considered how much that sword was determined to destroy him. Perhaps the blade was his fate, after all. Then the sharp edge of the metal split the air at his face. He dodged. Fate or no, he would fight.

  He rolled. He slammed against something hard, and uncurled to find he’d collided with Grayfoot. The dragon’s stunned gaze hovered between Kallon and Blackclaw, whose footsteps were approaching. The Gray was going to be no help. Kallon saw Grayfoot’s shortstaff, recognized it, and grabbed for it. Yellowfang’s screech of pain sounded. Kallon spun. Yellowfang had obviously leapt at Blackclaw to stop him, but had fallen, and her blood stained the blade that was now swinging for his throat.

  Kallon blocked the swing with the staff. “This is futile, Blackclaw! They are seeing you for who you are, regardless of my words!” He forced the blade toward the ground and spun, swinging his spiny tail at Blackclaw’s face. He felt contact, and continued through the spin. Blackclaw staggered aside. Kallon sucked in a breath to spew fire, but orange and brown and green paws of council members pounced onto Blackclaw to subdue him.

  “Kallon!” Riza’s voice came from somewhere to his right. He found her squeezing through the chaos, her frightened eyes fastened to his face. Her hands were still bound behind her.

  “Stay back, Riza!” Just as he shouted, a roar exploded from the center of the council members. Blackclaw erupted, and stripped Brownwing from his back with a clawed foot. Kallon stabbed the crystal end of his staff into Blackclaw’s gut. The leader grunted and buckled. Kallon jabbed again. Blackclaw dropped, heaving. The Green toppled onto Blackclaw, and blocked Kallon’s final thrust.

  A black paw latched onto Kallon’s ankle and ripped him from his feet. As he fell, he was blanketed in fire. His scales sizzled, and despite their resistance, pain burrowed like mites into his skin. He landed hard against the platform, knocking out his breath. He blindly clawed the air, unable to see past the wall of sweltering flame. He smelled the charring of his face. Then, what felt like a searing bolt of lightning split the base of his tail. He screamed in pain and rage.

  He launched himself toward the direction he’d last seen Blackclaw. His smoking paws felt the tender scales of a throat, and he squeezed. The fire died. He stared into the face of Fordon Blackclaw, whose mouth was wrenched into a grin. Kallon howled, and twisted his grip tighter. “Die!”

  “You first!” Blackclaw wheezed.

  Kallon couldn’t hold him any longer. He tried to squeeze, but his digits went slack. Then his forelegs sagged. He felt himself drop to the platform with the weight of a fallen oak.

  “Kallon!” Riza’s voice came again from a distance.

  “Chain him, Grayfoot, now!” shouted Brownwing. The council members had finally overcome Blackclaw. The leader’s forelegs twisted, his tail and feet imprisoned by council members and dragons from the crowd. Several dragons had stretched Blackclaw’s thick wings and sat on their tips.

  Kallon could only watch as Grayfoot clasped irons around Blackclaw’s legs. Blackclaw didn’t even struggle. He only grinned that depraved sm
ile down into Kallon’s face. Grayfoot pulled Blackclaw toward the cell.

  Kallon wished he could follow. He wanted to hear the cell door slam behind the dragon, wanted to watch him recoil at the smell. But Kallon could barely turn his head. Had Blackclaw’s flame really done so much damage? He tried to lift his forelegs to inspect, but couldn’t.

  Orman was there. The wizard knelt. “Hold still, my boy.” His craggy face bunched with sadness.

  “Kallon!” Riza shrieked, and dropped to her knees beside Orman. “No. No, please.”

  Other faces gathered around, bereaved and silent. “What’s wrong with me?” Kallon tried to ask, but he wasn’t sure if his voice managed to squeeze out of his throat.

  Armitage appeared with the others, and his face held a dark smile, so much like Blackclaw’s. He leaned toward Kallon’s ear. “I did warn you that my sword would be your destroyer. I wish it had been my hand upon it.”

  Kallon’s thoughts were fuzzy. He had to force his tongue to work. “But you came back.”

  Armitage sneered. “Not for you, Red. Though I am glad I’m here to witness this.” Armitage leaned back and looked solemnly toward Orman. “You should pull the sword free quickly.”

  Orman’s gaze turned toward the base of Kallon’s tail. “He will bleed to death almost instantly.”

  “He’s already dead, Wizard. You’ll just make it official.”

  “No!” Riza shouted. She flung herself across Kallon, but he couldn’t feel her. “Don’t you let him die, Orman! Do something! Please…please, do something.” She sobbed and pressed her cheek to Kallon’s jaw. “Kallon, you can’t die. Please don’t die.”

  He tried to speak. He tried to say her name, but his strength seemed to have seeped into the stone beneath him.

  “Don’t you leave me.” Riza’s tears dampened his face. She kissed his snout.

  He didn’t want to leave. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t know what would happen to Riza, didn’t want to go without knowing she’d be safe, but he was helpless. He couldn’t even manage to hold open his eyes.

  “Kallon. Kallon!” Riza called to him again. Or, was it Riza? Her voice seemed different. It sounded like his mother’s voice. He thought his eyes were closed, but somehow he managed to see the clouds part. They offered a warm glow that beckoned him to fly. It would be nice to fly.

  “Kallon!” Riza’s voice was soft and very far away. “No! Take me,” she begged of someone he couldn’t see. “Take me! May vita en dae!”

  The clouds slammed closed and Kallon was bathed with new warmth. A golden shower of sparks settled over him in soothing waves. Everything was going to be all right. He just knew it.

  He remembered the feeling once before. It had happened while he lay over his father’s wounded body, and had stared up at a sword that was about to swing and end his life. His father had shouted the same words, “May vita en dae”. Kallon had been blinded by a brightness that had sliced the sky and had immersed him in pleasant comfort.

  He suddenly realized what Riza had done. He fought against the light, struggling to move, to wake. “No!” he cried, and pushed against the sweet lullaby of calm that coursed through his blood. He thrashed. He managed to lift his head and force his eyes open. “Riza, what have you done?”

  “No!” Armitage’s own shout exploded, and the man dropped to his knees. Riza lay across Kallon’s front legs. Armitage lifted her carefully and cradled her against his chest. “No.” He tenderly kissed the top of her head. “Don’t do this, girl. Not for that dragon.”

  Kallon was numb. He wanted to reach for Riza, but couldn’t feel his legs. He wanted to shake her hard and wake her, but he couldn’t even blink. All the fear and worry and fighting for Riza over the past few days and weeks had infused new life and feeling into his very soul, had given him a reason to rise, and had given him purpose. He was supposed to have saved her. Not the other way. His shock wouldn’t let him believe.

  Armitage lifted his chin and snarled into Kallon’s face. “I didn’t come back to watch her die, I came back to this stinking, filthy place to watch her live!” He thrust Riza’s limp body toward Kallon’s face. “You did this!”

  Kallon recoiled. “I didn’t ask her! I wouldn’t want this!”

  “You may as well have been a dagger in her heart! You did this!” Armitage crumpled and held Riza with trembling hands. He wept against her throat. “Not for a dragon. Not for a dragon.”

  Kallon watched Armitage express Kallon’s own grief; a grief Kallon was too broken to feel. “I didn’t ask her,” he quietly repeated. Orman’s craggy hand found Kallon’s shoulder. “I would not want this. I didn’t even know she was capable.”

  “I knew she was different before I even met her,” Orman said. “Love has a power all its own, Kallon. It can do miraculous things.”

  “No. She trusted me, and I tried to protect her. But she didn’t love me. It’s not possible.”

  “Of course it is,” Orman said, his hand patting. “It’s why she did this.”

  “But I didn’t want her to do it! She needs to live!” A drop of pain oozed out through the crack in his heart. “She can’t die! Do something, Orman. Fix this!”

  “Me?” Orman pressed his hand to his chest. “Who am I to undo a miracle?”

  Armitage seethed. “This is no miracle. This is wrong.”

  “If it’s a miracle,” said Orman, “It can’t be wrong.”

  A voice came from the crowd. “What about the Circlet of Aspira?”

  “Yes,” said Brownwing, and drew close to those huddled around Riza. “Your quest would serve you well if you go. Perhaps the magic of the circlet can right the wrong.”

  Orman stretched his neck, his eyes narrowing on Brownwing. “Kallon Redheart, your would-be leader, was dying before you. She saved him. How can that be wrong?”

  Brownwing looked from Kallon to Orman. “I only meant—”

  “Stop it! She lies dead and you argue!” The hidden pain in Kallon’s heart finally erupted. “I do not care if her death is righteous or miraculous! I want her to live!” He rose to his feet. “If the circlet can grant wishes, I will wish her back.”

  “But Kallon,” Orman said. “We don’t even know if the circlet still exists.”

  “Blackclaw has had the circlet all along,” said Armitage.

  “We could all be wrong. If I do not search for it I will forever regret doing nothing.” Kallon moved to Orman. “Tell me what to do.”

  Orman looked at Armitage, at Riza’s pale face, and at the staring crowd of dragons. Finally, he turned his eyes to Kallon. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Orman,” Kallon pleaded.

  “I’m only a wizard, Kallon. I don’t have all the answers.” Then he pressed his lips together. “I know someone who does. But…”

  “But what?” Kallon gripped Orman’s beard and tugged him close.

  Orman slapped at Kallon’s paw and drew up his shoulders. “But you will have to seek him beyond the boundary.”

  Brownwing sucked in a breath. “Do you mean the Gold?”

  “I do.” Orman replaced his beard against his chest and smoothed it.

  The crowd gasped. Brownwing shook his head. “That is legend. No one has ever flown beyond the boundary. No one has met the Gold.”

  “I have met him,” Kallon said.

  Brownwing gaped. “What you say cannot be so.”

  Orman shook his finger at the brown dragon. “It is so. Simply because you have never experienced it does not make it untrue.”

  “It is suicide,” Brownwing said. “There is nothing beyond the limits of sky but death.”

  Kallon lowered himself before the kneeling Armitage. He stared down into Riza’s face, white as the moon. Even her lips were pale slivers, and he brushed a digit across their failing warmth. His pain wrenched every muscle of his body. But he would not give in to it. Not now. Not yet.

  He clutched Armitage’s shoulder. “You tend to her. Take care of her.”

  Armitage nodded, b
ut hatred seethed behind his eyes.

  Kallon rose again and faced Orman. “Tell me I can find this dragon beyond the boundary. Tell me this without a doubt, and I will go.”

  “Kallon,” said Brownwing.

  “I have no doubt,” said Orman.

  Kallon flew.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Kallon blasted like a pebble from a slingshot, slicing into the clouds. He didn’t know where he was going, didn’t know what he’d find when he got there. He didn’t know if he’d get there at all. He refused to consider that, and concentrated on his direction. He focused straight up and pumped his wings.

  He climbed higher and higher. The sky began to resist. Gently, at first. Then, with each surge forward, it began to push back. He felt he was battling a thick membrane that refused to let him pass. He closed his eyes. He had to keep straining…pushing…to that place no other dragon dared go.

  Soon his heartbeat throbbed in his ears. Fingers of fire gripped his lungs. His wings grew sluggish, despite his fight to push them faster. The overstretched boundary closed in, squeezing him in a sticky shroud.

  He was losing. The boundary was too strong. He pried open one eye and tried to swing his head to judge how far he’d come, but his movement only brought the boundary’s redoubled strength against him. He was forced nearly immobile.

  His feet paralyzed against his belly. The eye he’d opened was forced to stay that way. He clenched his teeth, and felt his mouth freeze into a gruesome smile. Finally, his left wing was forced against his back…and stopped completely. His other took a futile stab at the air before it, too, could move no longer.

  Kallon would have cried out if he’d had the voice to do so, but he could only stare ahead at the sky that still went on forever. There was no way through the boundary. He’d flown as far as his powerful body could take him, and there was no golden dragon to meet him. He was alone. He was dying.

  For what seemed an eternity, he hung there in the clouds. He sensed them brushing his tail, mocking his attempt to imitate them. Anger rose up, and his eyes bulged with it.

  Orman was wrong! He’d told Kallon there was no doubt! He’d sent Kallon chasing after a fantasy! It was hard enough to wake up and find Riza dead, without having to return to her again as a failure. The thought of having to face Armitage and the others, with their twisted, sneering faces, only enraged him further.