by Liz Flanagan
As if Isak could read her mind, he added, “He’s already given me his word that he won’t try to take the dragons from us …”
“And why is that?” Vigo said tightly. “He won’t? Or he can’t?”
“He can’t!” Tarya told them urgently. “I was reading about this, late last night. That’s why I’m so tired. A dragon will pine to death if you take it from its person,” she said. “They only rebond in rare cases, when their original person dies. Even then, they might not. You make sure you tell the duke that, Isak. Stop him getting any ideas.”
Shocked silence fell.
Milla leaned down and scooped sleeping Iggie from the perch, cuddling him close to her chest. “Don’t you worry, Iggie. Nobody’s going to take you from me, I promise.”
More than that, she had to stay safe. His life might depend on it.
Iggie raised his head sleepily and blinked. Sensing her mood, he rubbed his cool scaly head along Milla’s chin, crooning softly.
“Iggie, my Ig,” she told him fiercely. “You’re mine. No one else is having you!”
There was a long pause while the four of them spoke only to their dragons.
“Fair enough, then; go and see your mysterious woman,” Isak said at last. “But make sure she tells us everything! What was she doing with the eggs? Why bring them now? And what did she mean about the old Arcosi returning—are they about to invade?”
“Don’t forget: we owe all this to her,” Milla reminded Isak. “I’m not going to interrogate her—we should be thanking her. But if she’s well enough, I’ll ask her what happened to the last dragons, and what we need to know now.”
“I’ll come with you,” Tarya said, standing up.
“No, let me go,” Milla insisted. “I’ll take Iggie, but I need you three to cover for me here. You heard the duke,” she added. “Please?”
The twins exchanged a long glance without speaking. Sometimes they were so in tune it left everyone else shut out. Something passed between them: A question. An apology.
“Fine,” Tarya sighed eventually. “And if you pass our house, tell Dad to come and see us tomorrow? He is interested in us both, Isak, whatever you might think.”
“We’ll cover for you,” Vigo said. “But you’ll have to be quick, before my father notices.”
“Come on.” Tarya took Milla’s hand. “I’ll help you get ready.”
They each had a little dressing room by their bunks, and sets of new clothes in the colors of their dragon. Tarya helped Milla, buttoning up a long blue cotton dress that fitted perfectly.
“Be careful out there,” she said, doubling Milla’s blue scarf to make a secure pocket for Iggie and tying it at her back. “You will come back, won’t you?”
“Of course I will!” Milla exclaimed. She turned to face her friend. “We’d never leave you, would we, Ig?”
“Good.” Tarya hugged her carefully so she wouldn’t squash Iggie. “It’s just, well, you have Iggie. Josi. You have your other friends.”
“Stop it! Of course we’ll return to you. You and Isak are my family.” But Milla wondered if Isak still felt the same. He seemed to be drifting away from them both since the eggs had hatched. Drifting closer to Duke Olvar.
Milla’s new clothes made things easier: now she passed for a person of consequence. Today, the palace gates were opened without hesitation.
“I won’t be long,” she told the guards at the gate airily, as if she’d been born to a life of giving orders.
“See you soon, my lady.” The guard actually tipped his hat to her, keeping his eyes respectfully averted.
Her fine clothes also allowed her to conceal Iggie, tucked under her wide silk scarf and covered with a velvet cloak in a darker royal blue. He was completely hidden among the folds of fabric. She kept one hand cupped over him, feeling the tiny flicker of his pulse against her chest.
As she walked down the main road, cradling Iggie’s sleeping back, her lips curved in a smile. The streets of Arcosi had never looked so beautiful: stonework gleaming in the cool amber sun. The autumn wind tugged lightly at her curls, and sent crinkled russet leaves skittering around the cobblestones. Right then it felt to Milla as if anything were possible.
When she reached the Yellow House, Richal Finn was on gate duty and she called out a greeting.
But Finn only glared at her and didn’t open the gate. “What are you doing here?” He almost sounded angry. “Come to gloat?”
“Visiting Josi.” It wasn’t the welcome she’d expected. “Don’t panic. We aren’t prisoners up there, you know.” Her good mood vanished.
“Does the duke know?” Finn hissed.
“If he finds out, I’ll know who told him,” Milla snapped, hurt. “Are you going to let me in?”
“Watch yourself, Milla,” Richal Finn called as the gates swung open and she walked into the courtyard.
Lanys emerged from the kitchen with a basket on one hip. Her nose was peeling, pink and sore. She halted and glanced sharply at Milla’s new clothes.
“Morning, Lanys.” Milla stayed polite, but she turned her body away instinctively, folding her arms across her chest to hide Iggie.
Lanys pushed past her, too furious to speak, shoving Milla hard with one shoulder.
Iggie woke with a surprised mraaa?, sensing a threat to them.
“Shhhh, it’s all right, Ig,” Milla whispered, watching Lanys struggle through the gate with her basket, feeling a surprising rush of compassion. She wouldn’t change places with her now, not for all the gold in the world.
Pausing in the kitchen doorway, she felt another dizzying shift, like the time she’d climbed the mast of the Dolphin with Thom, looking down at her familiar city from a whole new perspective.
She breathed in the familiar smells of home: roasting meat, rising dough, the orange zest that Josi was grating, right there at the workbench.
“I said, not till you’ve finished—” Josi shouted without turning.
“It’s me,” Milla said, in a small voice, suddenly doubtful of her welcome.
“Oh!” Josi spun around, so fast that Milla found herself wrapped in a hug before she could warn her about Iggie.
“Careful!” she mumbled into Josi’s chest. “Don’t squash him …” Pulling back, she caught a quick glimpse of Josi’s brown eyes glittering with emotion.
“You didn’t bring the—” Josi stopped, unable to say the word. So Nestan had told her about the eggs hatching.
Laughing with delight, Milla nodded. “Yes!” She patted the scarf. “Do you want to see him?”
“Wait!” Josi crossed to the kitchen door, closed it, and bolted it. “Now!”
“Where’s Kara?” Milla asked. “Is she still safe?”
“Of course,” Josi snapped. “What do you think?”
“I didn’t mean … Where?”
Josi nodded at the last storeroom door opening off the kitchen.
“Who else knows?”
“The master.”
Milla took this in. Of course Josi and Nestan would share secrets if they were a couple. She wondered who else knew about their relationship.
“Come on, see for yourself.” Josi opened the door, letting light pour into a small whitewashed room. The back wall was filled with shelves, stacked with preserves, jars of oil, waxy cheeses. There was a pallet bed against the long wall, covered in a thick woolen blanket.
Kara was lying motionless under the blanket, curled on her side.
“Morning,” Milla called softly in Sartolan. “It’s Milla, come to see you. Are you all right?”
Silence.
She spun around to check with Josi, standing behind her with her arms folded, her face unreadable.
Milla looked back at Kara, now that her eyes were adjusting to the dimmer light, and noticed the old woman’s cheeks were shining with tears.
“Kara, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” She bent and touched her shoulder, feeling the tremors that shook her body. “Is it about the dragons?” Her hand flew
to Iggie’s sleeping form under the scarf.
Kara only curled up tighter and turned to face the wall.
“Josiah,” she managed to say. “He’s dead.” And then she lost herself in a fresh wave of sobbing.
“How long has she been like this?” Milla twisted around to ask Josi.
“Since she found out, last week … Let me help. Come here.” With one arm around Kara’s shoulders, Josi helped her sit and tenderly tucked the blanket around her knees.
Milla bent down and asked, “Kara, are you all right?”
Kara wiped her face on her sleeve. “No. My Josiah was murdered. Protecting the eggs.”
Milla bit her lip. She dared not confess she was there, that she could have stopped it.
“All our lives, we’ve guarded them, and he was killed here on Arcosi. At the very last step.” Kara closed her eyes.
Milla and Josi exchanged a worried glance.
“So tell me: was it worth it?” Kara asked now, staring up at Milla with some of the defiant spark she’d shown at the duke’s ball. “Did you reach them in time?”
That was when Iggie stirred underneath the silk scarf. Milla lifted him out carefully in her cupped hands, though he was almost too big to hold in them. “There’s someone I want you to meet. Iggie, meet Josi and Kara.”
Milla opened her hands.
Josi gasped.
Kara jerked upright sharply, her cheeks burning fever- bright.
Prrt? Iggie asked, lifting his head. In the faint light, his scales gleamed lapis lazuli.
“Oh, Milla,” Josi said, “he’s beautiful!”
Milla gulped, unable to trust herself to speak right then.
“You did it!” Kara’s eyes were huge black pools, glistening with tears. She lowered her head toward him, stiffly, and waited. Iggie stretched up, sniffing, and then touched his nose to Kara’s.
“Oh! He’s like Cato come again,” Kara breathed. “May I?” she held out her hands, making her gold bracelets jangle and revealing her tattoo.
Iggie chirruped and stepped from Milla’s hands to Kara’s, balancing his weight between her wrinkled palms and unfolding his wings. He flapped eagerly. Aark?
Milla felt a pang of jealousy to see Iggie’s excitement at meeting other people. Wasn’t she enough for him anymore? But she was being ridiculous: if it wasn’t for Kara, she wouldn’t even have her dragon.
“That I should see the day,” Kara whispered with emotion. “The others? All safely hatched and bonded?” She passed Iggie to Josi, waiting patiently for her turn to greet him.
“Hello, little one.” Josi’s deep voice was hoarse with emotion. Just as before, Iggie stretched up and greeted Josi, nose to nose, with a quiet prrrt.
Milla nodded, blinking hard. “Thank you, Kara, for making me rush to him that night.”
“Dragons. Home. On Arcosi.” Kara let tears roll freely down her cheeks, smiling at Iggie on Josi’s lap. “Here, in the city, not trapped in the palace … Oh, you did well, daughter. Look at him.”
Iggie was nuzzling the heel of Josi’s palm with his head, making a crooning noise. He liked her!
“But what do you mean, trapped?” Milla asked. “The others are still in the palace. Shouldn’t they be there?” Here was her chance to learn. “Please, tell me what I need to do to keep him safe. You said you spent your life guarding the eggs. Well, I want to spend my life guarding him, but there’s so much I don’t know.”
“What do you know?” Kara’s voice was faint, but she was listening.
“They need meat and water, warmth, bonded love—we’ve learned that much. But what else?”
“You’re giving him plenty of spring water?” Kara asked. “That’s the most important thing.”
“Of course! They drink all the time. So will you tell me: what happened before? What happened to the last dragons?”
Kara looked utterly drained, and Milla felt a pang of guilt for pressing her.
“Aren’t they doing well?” Josi asked. “He looks strong, this little one, and I know that Milla is.”
Milla felt a warm surge of gratitude at that, watching Josi and Iggie get acquainted.
“You’ll need that in the days to come …” Kara faltered.
“What do you mean? What is to come?” Milla prompted her.
“The dragons belong … to the city.” Kara spoke in short bursts now and seemed near the end of her strength. “Not the palace. That’s the mistake. That almost finished them.”
“But what else can we do now? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to push you. Rest a moment?”
“No, it’s all right. This is why we returned. You need to know the story of Karys Stormrider and the last dragons of Arcosi. So you don’t make the same mistakes again.”
Kara sat up straight to tell her story, her gestures graceful, her bracelets clinking lightly as she spoke.
“The dragons used to hatch in the city marketplace. Every child of Arcosi would attend. Anyone could be chosen: a fisherman’s daughter, a merchant’s son, the baker’s apprentice. But the royal family didn’t like that.” Kara’s voice found some strength in retelling this tale, turning musical and deep: “Over time, they changed the rules to serve them better. Soon, hatching happened at the palace. Only the royal family could attend.”
Milla felt guilty. That had happened for her and Iggie. What were the odds he’d have chosen her if the whole city had been there?
“It isn’t good for them. That’s what you need to remember.” Kara took Milla’s hand and pressed it as she spoke these words. “Fewer and fewer eggs came. In the end, there were only three dragons left. And three dragonriders.”
“Dragonriders!” Those mythical figures, painted on the dragonhall walls. “Who were they, the last dragonriders? What happened to them?”
“There was Rufus Goldeneye and his dragon, Juna; his sister, Karys Stormrider, and her dragon, Cato; their cousin Silvano Cloudglider and his dragon, Aelia.” She paused a moment to catch her breath.
Karys Stormrider. The name seemed to resonate in the air between them. “Go on,” Milla whispered.
“Rufus was the result of his family’s many mistakes. Firstborn child, spoiled utterly. He’d always had everything he wanted. Every whim. Every wish. So when he couldn’t control events, his mind grew … altered.”
“Altered, how?”
Kara coughed then, a hollow, rattling cough that shook her whole rib cage.
“Let me bring you something for that,” Josi said, passing Iggie over gently. “Here, take your dragon, Milla.” She warned, “We don’t have long. I’ll need to open that door before anyone notices,” and she went out of the storeroom into the main kitchen.
Kara picked up the tale, slower now. “Difficult years came, as they often do. Harvests failed. The island flooded. Ships were lost. The people of Arcosi grew hungry. They grew desperate. Rufus convinced Karys they should carry out one swift raid on the old enemy, Sartola. She agreed, for her people’s sake.”
“What did they do?” Milla asked, horrified at the idea of using Iggie to fight. She held him in her lap now. His round green eyes were sleepy, but he was listening, too.
“The dragonriders of Arcosi waged war on Sartola. They burned it. They raided its treasury. Karys was injured, so she didn’t see the worst.”
Milla closed her eyes, trying to banish the images that sprang up, unbidden: choking smoke, burning buildings. After a moment, she asked, “So they got their gold. Was Rufus satisfied?”
Kara let out a short, barking cough. “Oh, no.” She looked up as Josi came back in, carrying a tray of steaming mugs. “Thank you. No, that traitor was not satisfied. His dragon fell ill. Rufus kept all the Sartolan gold for himself. He didn’t even pay his troops. He convinced himself that Juna needed more gold. This time he took it from his own people, imposing higher and higher taxes. They had nothing left to give.”
“Is that why they left?” Milla asked, remembering the deserted villas of the shadow strip.
“They
chose exile, those who could: the lucky ones. The unlucky ones had no choice. When Karys recovered from her injuries, she found the city of Arcosi almost empty. A ghost city, given to rats and scavenging dogs. By the time she realized what her brother had done, it was too late.”
“What do you mean? What had he done?” Milla whispered.
Kara sat up a little straighter, as if it cost her to speak these words. “He sold his own people. For the gold. For his dragon.”
“No!” Milla lifted Iggie close to her heart.
“Karys stopped it. Oh, yes. She and Cato, they burned the ships, there in the docks, before they could load another cargo …” She broke off, making a strange noise. “But Juna died anyway. So it was all for nothing, all that suffering, all those deaths.” She was laughing: a bitter, mirthless sound.
“Rufus was wrong. It’s a myth. Dragons don’t need gold.” She bent forward and spoke urgently to Milla, pulling her close, so she heard every word. “Dragons need their people. Haven’t you felt it? How he draws energy from you and you from him? It’s the same with everyone he meets. Dragons need contact with their people: they belong to them.”
“But … but …” Milla gulped, feeling her cheeks burning.
“What, child?”
“Doesn’t he belong to me?” she asked faintly.
“You’re his chosen person, his bonded, his rider, one day. Of course! How can you doubt it? But you’ve seen the basking nests, built into the marketplace? That’s where they belong: in the heart of the city. Without their freedom and their people, they sicken and die. That is what Rufus never understood. He did the worst thing possible. The people of Arcosi were gone: fled, sold, broken.”
“You said there were three dragons. And Juna died. So there were two left. What happened to them?” Milla waited, desperate to know. This was Iggie’s story, too: it must be. She leaned down and touched her lips to the top of his head. What was the link between him and these dragons?
“After Juna died, Rufus grew more deranged in his grief. Most of his servants fled, all but the most loyal. Even Karys grew afraid of him and started planning her escape.