Fire and Fate: Part 1 & 2 (Dragons of Galicia)

by Simone Pond

  “Find a heavy stone; one with substantial weight to it,” Aine instructed.

  “This is utterly ridiculous,” Ciara grumbled.

  Evelyn scanned the ground for a hefty rock until she found one large enough that she could lug over to the edge of the clearing solo, since Ciara certainly wasn’t offering a helping hand. She commanded the spear to return to its crystal stone form and tucked it into her corset, then hoisted the rock and returned to the clearing.

  “Hopefully this will do,” Evelyn said, “but you must tell me what I’m to do with it for I fear I cannot hold it much longer.”

  “Throw it onto the path,” Aine said.

  And so Evelyn squatted low and catapulted the large stone forward, casting it onto the path before them. At once, the black ground bubbled up like molten tar where the rock had landed and pulled it under the surface. It was gone in seconds flat.

  Aine glanced at Ciara, brows raised. “See, miss. That could’ve been you had we not warned you. The demon is always hungry, waiting for ignorant sojourners to step upon its surface.”

  Evelyn stared at the path, which had returned to its placid state. She’d seen something similar to this before. “This is no demon,” she said.

  “You saw what happened!” Aine protested. “Surely it’s a demon!”

  “Even I agree with the child,” Ciara added.

  “It’s sludge.”

  “Sludge?” the girls asked in unison.

  “Similar to quicksand,” Evelyn said, “only it seems to work much faster. While not a demon, nevertheless, it’s still quite dangerous. And it looks to be spread throughout this entire back half of the forest.” She looked at Ciara with a smug grin. “So, it appears the only way to the castle is back up the mountain and down the other side. With me and the thief.”

  The disdain on Ciara’s face tugged her mouth downward and her cold eyes glared at Evelyn in accusation. She opened her mouth to spew a stream of venom, but Evelyn turned away and plodded toward the foothills to regroup with Doran. She had performed her “duty” and saved Ciara yet again. It was time to move on.

  Aine rushed up to join her. “Now that I’ve proven my worth, Miss Evelyn, might I accompany you on your journey to Verubri Castle?”

  The child gazed up at Evelyn, her bright eyes dancing with excitement. She marveled over the girl’s bravery and courage, something she admired very much in her own mother. Traits she wanted to strengthen in herself. But could she allow Aine to come along on the journey to the castle and risk putting the girl in more danger? And what would happen when they reached their destination? Would the prince kindly welcome the orphan child? These questions of fate were not for Evelyn to answer. Aine had a destiny, just as Evelyn had hers. If the girl wanted to join them on their travels instead of returning to Corinth, so be it.

  “You’ve proven yourself beyond value,” said Evelyn, patting Aine’s head. “Our journey wouldn’t be complete without you as a traveling companion.”

  Ciara’s vicious snicker came from behind. “And what will she do once we reach the castle? Tend the horse stables? Clean chamber pots? The child will be nothing but a nuisance. But far be it from me to stand in the way of you ruining your chances with Prince Kieran …”

  More laughter spouted from Ciara, but was cut short by the sudden snapping of a branch and a hard tumble to the dirt. Evelyn grinned at Aine and the two continued walking, not offering any assistance to the fallen Ciara.

  12

  When they arrived at the foothills, Doran stood among the group of women and young girls, who were now clothed and somewhat rejuvenated. He strode up to Evelyn—relief had replaced the worry lines across his forehead.

  “Where have you been, my lady?” he nearly barked.

  “I had to fetch her.” Evelyn jerked her thumb backwards toward a limping Ciara.

  “She ran off?”

  “Yes, and almost walked right into a pit of sludge attempting a shortcut to the castle.”

  Doran brushed his dark hair away from his face. “And so you saved her once again.”

  Evelyn shrugged. “I suppose so.”

  “And you’ve rescued all of these women and young girls from the zeevils. I do believe you’ve done enough heroic activities for one afternoon. We must rest.”

  Ciara barreled her way into the conversation. “There is no time for rest. We must continue to the castle.”

  Doran bowed slightly, employing his most pleasant demeanor. “Miss, it’s getting late and night will soon fall. I’m exhausted and to travel under these conditions would be foolhardy. I fear we wouldn’t have a successful journey. And I’d prefer you arrive at the castle in one piece.”

  Evelyn found his words not only unassuming, but strategic. He kept the focus on himself rather than mentioning Evelyn. Had he mentioned her, Ciara would’ve challenged them to continue. Instead she humbly backed down.

  “Fine,” she said, “but we leave at dawn’s break.”

  “Agreed, miss.” Doran politely bowed.

  “I’ll make camp over by the rocks. I’d like for you both to keep your distance for the night. I’ve had quite enough of you, goat girl.” Ciara sneered at Evelyn, then limped over to a small clearing and settled next to a fire pit where one of the newly freed women was stoking burning logs.

  “Good riddance,” Evelyn muttered under her breath.

  Doran smiled down at Aine. “So, who’s your new companion?”

  “I’m Aine,” she said, reaching out her hand. “I’ll be joining your traveling party from here.”

  He chuckled, glancing over to Evelyn, who shrugged once again. “Is that right?” he said.

  “I have no family to return to. And I want to help Miss Evelyn reach the castle.” Aine puffed up her frail chest.

  “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Aine. From the looks of it you’ll be a fine addition to our team.”

  “I agree,” said Aine as she looked over to the camp site. “It seems many of my friends are celebrating. I should like to join the festivities and bid them farewell on this last night together.”

  “Of course. Find us at the first light of sun.” Evelyn yawned.

  Aine scampered off toward the jovial group and joined in on the celebration. Regan—the girl who had helped Evelyn earlier—waved for Evelyn to come over, but she politely smiled and shook her head, yawning again. Their joy filled Evelyn’s heart all the way to the edges and beyond, and now it was time for rest.

  Doran put his arm over her shoulder. “Let us settle for the night. We need plenty of rest for our journey tomorrow.”

  Evelyn nodded.

  “Come, my lady. I’ve set up a quiet spot away from the celebrations. You’ll be over by the trees. I have a fire going.” He took her hand and they headed toward a thicket of pines.

  When they reached the site, Evelyn collapsed onto the soft dirt next to the fire pit. She rested her head on her arm as a pillow, but upon seeing the fire, she was suddenly reminded of the dragon she and Doran had seen earlier. The zeevils had distracted her momentarily, but as she lay on the ground watching the flames, the feeling of dread resurfaced.

  “Any more dragon sightings?” she muttered.

  “Nothing.” He covered her with something. “Your cloak, my lady. And your travel bag is with your horse. Everything is still intact.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “I bid you good night.” He began to walk away, but she reached for his leg.

  “Wait,” she said, her voice gravel-filled and husky.

  Doran turned and stared down at Evelyn, the firelight gleaming in his striking face. “We’re safe for now. Get some sleep.”

  “You may stay next to me tonight … for warmth.”

  Evelyn’s heart thudded loudly in her ears and butterflies tickled her middle as she awaited Doran’s response. She knew this was precarious territory—inviting him to sleep by her side—for her reasoning had little to do with staying warm. She was drawn to this stranger—this thief—
who had nearly used her for ransom. And her curiosity had won.

  She thought about the care he’d given along the journey and assistance through their perils. She couldn’t deny a connection had developed between them. It was a connection she felt compelled to explore further. Upon witnessing Doran’s true character, it seemed Prince Kieran had no longer been top of her mind. Most certainly not in the way she had been considering Doran—with a churning desire moving through her whenever their fingers touched … or when he grinned … or brushed back his dark hair with his masculine hands. The prince’s hands were soft and flawless. She had hidden her own calloused hands in her lap during their dinner at the cottage, embarrassed by their condition. But seeing Doran’s rough and rugged hands made her respect him even more.

  “I think it’s best if I stay on this side, my lady.”

  His polite grin suggested he might be persuaded if Evelyn pushed a bit harder, but she was beyond exhausted. The words garbled in her mouth and made little sense as they entered the atmosphere. The last thing she remembered before slipping into a dead sleep was Doran resting himself on the dirt and closing his eyes.

  ***

  Evelyn awoke to someone shaking her shoulder and the rustling of feet. It took a minute to remember she wasn’t in the cottage with her mother, but on the ground at the foothills of the Vindius Mountains. She opened her eyes to the darkness of pre-dawn. Ambers glowed from the fire pit. Doran was sound asleep a few yards away. Aine was kneeling next to her, still shaking her shoulder.

  “Miss Evelyn, you must wake up. She’s gone,” Aine said in a hushed voice. She wore a dress made of burlap with a rope tied around the waist. Poor girl, Evelyn thought.

  “Who’s gone?” Evelyn murmured, sitting up as she rubbed her sleep-filled eyes.

  “Your friend, I mean colleague. The mean girl with the icy eyes.”

  A stone slammed into Evelyn’s gut. “Ciara?”

  “Yes, I overheard some of the ladies mentioning some crazy loon who left camp to take the path of demise …”

  Evelyn stood up and flipped her cloak around her shoulders and walked over to Doran, kneeling to wake him. “We must go now.”

  He shot up out of a deep sleep, right to his feet with his crossbow in hand. “Dear heavens above Galicia, what is it?”

  “Ciara’s gone,” Evelyn said.

  “Of course she is,” he said with a groan. “She must’ve gone on foot. I’ve hidden our horses.”

  Evelyn smiled at Doran, thanking him for his strategic foresight. She looked at Aine, asking, “Do you know when she left?”

  Aine shook her head. “But I know which way she went.”

  “Isn’t there only one route? Back to the top and down the other side?” Doran asked.

  “There are two paths to the castle,” Aine said. “The path you speak of and a faster one we call the path of demise.”

  “She must’ve found out about the path from one of the women,” Evelyn said, feeling a sense of urgency roiling through her. If Ciara reached the castle first and filled the prince’s head with lies and falsifications, never mind losing her lady-in-waiting status … her future would become exceptionally grim.

  “Don’t worry, my lady, I’ll get the horses. We can catch up to her in no time.” Doran ran off to fetch their horses.

  Aine held on to Evelyn’s arm. “I’m sorry to say, miss, but the journey must be on foot. And I must warn you, it’s vicious.”

  “Don’t worry, Aine. We’ll figure it out.” Evelyn wrapped her cloak tighter around herself as if this would ward off the haunting chill of worry. She knew what needed to happen and neither Doran nor Aine would take her instruction without a fight.

  Doran returned, mounted on his black horse with Evelyn’s trailing behind. “Shall we?”

  Evelyn looked up at Doran. “Only one of us can make the journey.”

  “That’s not what I said, miss!” Aine argued.

  “What is it?” Doran asked with an anxious bite.

  “The path of demise can only be made by foot,” Evelyn said. “And it’s quite treacherous. Therefore, I’m the only one going after Ciara. The two of you shall take the other path with the horses. You must return to your brother.”

  Doran laughed. “Vaughn is fine, my lady.”

  Evelyn cocked her head slightly and asked, “But what about …”

  No one said anything for a moment.

  Aine blurted, “What about what?!”

  “It’s nothing, dear.” Evelyn patted Aine’s head.

  “Don’t lie to the girl,” Doran said. “She should know all the facts if she’s coming with us.”

  The young girl stood with her arms folded across her scrawny chest, frowning at Evelyn.

  “We may or may not have seen one of the dragons of Galicia,” Evelyn said. “And it could be extremely dangerous if that’s the case.”

  Aine smiled so wide her eyes squinted. “I’m not afraid of a dragon, miss. Not when I’m with Evelyn of Gorias, dragon slayer.”

  Evelyn ruffled the girl’s hair. “You’re impossible. Either way, I’m going on this path of demise solo.”

  Doran puffed up his chest, sitting on top of his horse. “I cannot allow you to trek that path alone.”

  “Nor I,” Aine added.

  Evelyn reached into her corset and removed the crystal stone, holding it in her palm until its glow radiated and the spear of Gorias appeared. She held it across her chest in a protective manner.

  “I’m Evelyn of Gorias, dragon slayer, and this is my mission only. I cannot risk losing both of you. I demand you take the horses up the mountain and meet me on the other side. There will be no more arguing. Time is of the essence. And I must get to Ciara before she reaches the other side. Is this understood?”

  The spear gleamed with a powerful white-blue light as if to emphasize her sentiment. Doran nodded slightly, though his eyes were full of concern. Aine wasn’t as easily sold.

  “You don’t know your way through the path,” the girl said.

  “Neither do you,” Evelyn countered.

  “But I’ve heard many stories about it. I know the tricks and traps and can help you get through it faster.”

  Evelyn pulled in a breath as she pondered this proposition. Speed was much needed at this point and standing there arguing with the girl was only taking up more precious time. Perhaps she would again be helpful to the cause.

  “Okay, fine. You may join me. But if it’s too dangerous, you must promise to turn back.”

  Aine smiled, her pale eyes lighting up and ready for adventure. “I swear upon my life.”

  Evelyn wished for Doran to say something, anything that would’ve given her a kernel of encouragement for the dangerous path she was about to embark upon. But he said nothing. He gave a nod and trotted off, Evelyn’s horse following behind with her travel bag still attached to the saddle. She considered running after him to retrieve her father’s journal, but concluded it would be safer with him.

  She took Aine’s hand and let the girl lead her toward the path of demise. Before ducking into the brush, Evelyn glanced over her shoulder one last time. Doran sat atop his stallion, gazing back at her. He held up his hand and a slight grin appeared on his lips. It was enough to fuel her forward into the brambly forest.

  13

  The path of demise was accurately named. On one side of the precarious trail was the side of a mountain littered with thorn bushes protruding onto the path, and on the other side was a sizable drop into a valley of arrowhead rocks jutting up from below. It was a balancing act along the edge of the mountain, and one slip would be the end.

  Aine moved with agility along the path. Evelyn had a bit more trouble maneuvering and once again found her cloak to be a hindrance, snagging on the bushes. She had to let it go over the side of the cliff. It drifted like a bird, descending into the cavern below until it became a patch of black. Evelyn had returned the spear of Gorias to its stone form and tucked it securely inside her corset, making sure it woul
dn’t slip out under any circumstance.

  As the path continuously narrowed, there was no more room to shuffle along the mountainside. Aine climbed over the top of a massive boulder and stood waiting for Evelyn.

  “I’m not sure how Ciara managed this on her own,” Evelyn grunted as she heaved herself up the side of the boulder. Aine reached down to grab Evelyn’s hand to help pull her up those last few inches.

  “Oh, she didn’t come this exact path.” Aine brushed some dirt off Evelyn’s arm.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I went a shorter way.”

  “A shortcut within a shortcut?” Evelyn mused and shook her head. “I would’ve preferred the long way around.”

  “But now we’ll be much closer behind Ciara. I’m guessing she’s stuck at the crossroads, trying to decide if she should go left or right.”

  Evelyn studied the girl. “Do you know which direction to go?”

  Aine nodded. “They both lead to the castle and they’re both equally horrible.”

  “How’s that?”

  “One goes through the caves and the other involves crossing over a dangerous pit.”

  Both directions might’ve been equally risky, but Evelyn would prefer to never see the inside of a cave again as long as she lived. The idea of crossing over a pit didn’t sound nearly as bad. After all, she had the spear of Gorias, which could fly them across.

  “Well, we should get going and try to catch up with the sod,” Evelyn said. “Let’s hope she’s twisted her ankle and is unable to continue down either path.”

  They scaled the stack of boulders before them, careful not to lose their footing or grip, until they reached a plateau. The sun had come up and blazed fire down onto Evelyn and her pale skin, causing much discomfort and irritation. But the flat ground felt wonderful under her bare feet, which were covered in layers of dirt and muck. She scoped the mountain ranges, trying to figure out where they were in relation to the castle, but she was lost and felt like a speck in the universe. How would they ever plod through this behemoth to the other side? It seemed an impossible challenge. Aine didn’t seem too worried and continued her determined trek across the rocky plain toward the pines.