Ascalla's Daughter

by M. C. Elam

  “Gather my tears, Terill. Give them to Hawk.” She was still Skylla but no longer human. Her true form lay bare, the most feared of all creatures, a dragon.

  “Quickly, do as I say so that Hawk may live.”

  Terill scooped the golden tears into his palm. Like separate beads of light, each independent of the other, they rolled around in his hand and made his skin tingle wherever they touched.

  “You, you fooled me. You want to make Hawk like you.” He cast the golden droplets away and wiped his hand against his thigh.

  “I did not fool you, Terill. The potion was for me. Now you have wasted my tears.”

  “I have wasted nothing.” Terill gathered Hawk in his arms. “You want to make him like you.”

  “No, my tears can make him whole again, but you doubt me at each step.”

  “Back there, you, you could have defeated the ogres. Why didn’t you?”

  “I came to show you the way. The trials you faced were not mine.”

  “You acted as a lure. We might have found a better way.”

  “No other path lay open to you.”

  “Liar!” He spat the words at her. “I see it now. You lured Hawk to rescue you and now want to trap him forever.”

  Skylla’s tremendous tail arced away from her body, and she turned on him. “I grow weary of your simpleminded foolishness. If I wanted Hawk, I would kill you and take him.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us what you were back there?”

  Skylla stomped one clawed foot and opened her mouth spewing a stream of fire over his head. “Do you know…?” Her speech came in a slow measured sequence, each word an angry punch aimed at his face. “Do you know that I could turn you to a pile of cinders?”

  “Why don’t you, then?”

  She sat back on her haunches, and before he could move, snatched him in her claw like hand. Long fingers encircled his chest. The dagger he held picked away at her. Irritated, she gave him a shake.

  “Drop that thing.” She shook him again, and the dagger clattered against the ledge. “Tell me what has changed that you doubt me now. When you gave the potion to me, you offered trust. Why not now? I could squeeze the life from you, yet you turn obstinate when I promise to heal Hawk. You call me a liar. Why?”

  “Because,” Terill’s voice faltered, and then he fell silent.

  “Because,” Skylla said. The angry tone was gone, replaced first by bewilderment and then by a deep sadness. “It is because I am a dragon.”

  “No, not because you are a dragon.”

  “Then why?”

  “Because you did not tell us.”

  She lowered her arm and opened her hand. Terill stumbled away from her and moved back to Hawk.

  “Terill,” she said. She inched closer to him and the place where Hawk lay. “Do not punish Hawk because of my fear.”

  “Fear? What have you to fear?”

  “I thought you might leave me there among the ogres.”

  He eyed her, listening. “Go on.”

  “Once every generation I take human form and enter the ogre cave. I was careless this time, and they caught me before you arrived.”

  “Not planned?”

  “No, I didn’t plan for them to take me, only to help you.”

  “What about the potion?”

  “My own elixir, created by the potion master in Shadall.”

  “He knows about you?”

  “No, but he did make the elixir. I pressed the ingredients into his head long ago, and he creates it from a memory he believes is his own.”

  Terill squeezed his eyes closed and swung his head back and forth. “How can I take this in?”

  “Take up my tears. Touch them to Hawk’s lips and he will awaken. I swear by Shadall that I plot no deception. My words are true.”

  “But if you lie, Hawk is lost.”

  She looked at him, her gaze unwavering.

  Terill found what remained of the golden tears gathered in the same little hollow place. He cupped his hand and scooped them into his palm. The whole of his hand and a large portion of his forearm glowed with golden light. Careful not to spill them, he half crawled to Hawk’s body. He dipped his fingers into the tears and spread them across Hawk’s pale lips. The bright fluid ran into his mouth, into his throat and down.

  “Use them all, Terill.”

  Did the words come from inside his head or from the dragon standing over them? The sound seemed to be everywhere. More tears fell between Hawk’s parted lips, and he realized he had not made a move to place them there. He looked toward Skylla. She was crying, and through her tears he saw a look of such sweet sadness that his heart opened, and he knew she was incapable of lying.

  “Dragon tears heal all but a dragon’s heart.”

  He didn’t think the whispered words were for him and looked back toward Hawk, sorry that he had accused her, and sorry that he intruded on her private world. Just then, Hawk took a jagged breath and opened his eyes.

  ***

  Conscious but still weak, Hawk rested against the cavern wall while Terill told him everything that had happened.

  “A dragon? Skylla? Come, brother.”

  “I swear to you. My words are true.”

  Hawk grinned. “Then where did you hide her?” He looked around the cavern gesturing.

  “I didn’t hide her. I heard you take a breath and raised you up. You were choking, gagging and full of sick. When I looked back, she was gone.”

  Hawk flexed his arms and pushed away from the rock. A little wobbly, he found his feet and took a step. “This place looks familiar.”

  “It should. We are back in the entry cavern.”

  “Then we failed.”

  “We completed each task.”

  “All but one,” said Hawk. “No pearls.” He turned away from the open cavern where the sea bubbled and bellowed frothy foam against the rocks and looked at Terill. “The reason we came. How do you explain that?”

  “I can’t explain. Maybe it has something to do with the story I told you about Skylla,” he said. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “I think you believe it. But you have been a long time without food or drink.”

  “And,” said Terill. He was looking past Hawk to the rim of the ledge where gold-tipped claws sought a firm hold. “you think because of that I imagined the whole of it.”

  Skylla’s head appeared above the rim as she climbed onto the ledge behind Hawk. Water streamed from her body and washed across the ledge.

  “You are about to be wet, brother.”

  Water swept across them.

  “The tide,” shouted Hawk. “We need to climb.” Already he stood knee-deep in seawater.

  “Nay, brother. We are fine where we are. Only a momentary inconvenience.”

  “Aye Prince Hawk, I apologize.”

  Hawk jumped.

  “And now, brother, please allow me to present my imagination, which is standing right behind you,” said Terill.

  Hawk turned. His astounded expression made Terill laugh aloud, and a wide mouthed grin etched his handsome face.

  “Skylla?” Hawk’s voice came out as more of a croak than the rich tone he usually projected.

  She bent low until her head came level with his, and he could see into her eyes. Though she no longer possessed lips, the skin over her boney jaw pulled back into a kind of smile that revealed a spectacular array of gleaming teeth.

  “Frightening, am I not?” she said.

  Hawk put out a hand and touched her face, half expecting to find the delicate scales cold and lizardy. Instead, her cheek felt warm and as smooth as fine silk. “Frightening? No, Skylla. To me you are magnificent.”

  She nuzzled his open palm and then withdrew. “A charming compliment, Prince Hawk. You honor me. One more duty falls to me before you return.”

  “Ah, but Skylla, we can’t go back yet. We have failed in our quest,” he said.

  “Nearly true until I convinced Terill of my sincerity.”

&n
bsp; Hawk shot a quick glance at Terill. “What does she mean?”

  “She said the potion was for her. I thought she meant to leave you dead,” said Terill.

  “But you gave it to her.”

  “Aye, she spoke of trust and convinced me, but when I saw what it did to her, what she changed into, I thought she lied. She wept golden tears and said I should give them to you.”

  “You doubted again?”

  “I thought she wanted to make you like she is now, a dragon.”

  “However you traveled, brother, I am here and breathing and grateful.”

  Terill sighed. “Honor and truth take many forms. Not so bad is it that we didn’t find the pearls?”

  A pleasant kind of purr rumbled around Skylla’s massive head and shook her chest. The skin on her jaw ridges pulled back into that peculiar smile again, and she put her claw tipped fingers together and clapped.

  “You don’t have even a clue. How delicious. Take up your packs. What you seek has been with you since you left the dwarf, Roland.”

  “Lava rock?” said Hawk.

  “Look.”

  Terill handed Hawk’s pack to him, and they searched for the lava rocks more to please Skylla than with any idea of finding pearls.

  “I’ve got it,” said Hawk. He withdrew his hand from the pack, with the chunk of lava in his firm grasp.

  “Mine too,” said Terill.

  “Now give them to me,” said Skylla.

  She took the lava rocks into her great hand and squeezed it shut. Her claw-like fingers pressed the chunks of lava into each other, grinding away the rough surface. Fine powder sifted free. It drifted down to the surface of the ledge and lay in a little mound of opalescent beauty. When she finished, two perfect pearls, one milky white, the other smoky gray, like a rain-glutted sky rose into the air and hovered above her open palm.

  “Go,” she said.

  On her command, the pearls drifted toward Hawk and Terill.

  “Terill, put out your hand,” she said.

  The white pearl floated toward him.

  “Now you, Hawk.”

  The black pearl came to him. “How does it know?” he asked.

  “The Mother’s magic fills the black pearl, and Shadall speaks through the white.” She smiled her sharp-toothed, dragony smile.

  “My mother?”

  “Nay, Hawk, not your mother, though her spirit lives in you. I speak of Anutaya, Mother of the world.”

  “Anutaya,” he said.

  She sensed the name felt foreign to him.

  “Seek the wise man of Baline. He will light your way.”

  “Baline died in a raid, long ago.”

  “Aye, once true, but no more. The village thrives. See for yourself.”

  Skylla swept one enormous wing through open space. Behind her Hawk and Terill saw a gap form.

  “Baline,” she said, “the commons, the inn.” She gave them only a glimpse before closing the space. “A great trial lies ahead. Call to me, and I will come.”

  Before they could answer, she stepped off the ledge and into the swirling water.

  19 - The Kings Revelation

  Hawk stood on a craggy hillock overlooking the city. Far to the east of him, sunlight brushed the treetops at the timberline and lit the jagged mountain peaks in a rosy glow that spilled across the Ascallan plane, but below Falmora lay shrouded in sleepy, predawn fog. Dozens of morning cook-fires battled the darkness and sent smoky fingers skyward where a gentle updraft swept them along the valley toward the Ruby River. A lone guard silhouetted against torchlight from the inner compound patrolled the stockade wall. By rights, Hawk knew he ought to seek his father first, but they had parted badly, and he longed to see Evangeline. The stockade gates swung wide and an early patrol took the road to Endors. He squinted to make out the lead warrior. Not Marcus—shorter by a foot he guessed. Besides, Marcus always patrolled east. Peruseus nickered and nudged his shoulder.

  “Ready to go?” Hawk patted the horse’s neck, swung into the saddle, and turned toward Pandera’s Forest.

  He followed the trail from the highland through the trees and across a broad expanse of open grassland. The earthy smells of Ascalla greeted him, the sweet fragrance of her verdant fields and lowlands. A farmer bent on bringing home his cows for the morning milking crossed the trail. The droning singsong he hummed to them seemed accented by the clanking bell around the lead animal’s neck. Marcus had taught Evangeline to milk. She said it was a peaceful chore. He’d tried a couple of times but never got the hang of it and abandoned the effort like so many other things that didn’t come easily to him. The farmer’s simple song held such beauty that tears stung his eyes, and he listened until it faded away.

  Hawk’s persistent push for Ascalla had wearied Peruseus, but the familiar scent and feel of home ground rallied the stallion, and their pace quickened. Hawk’s hand relaxed on the reins, and the horse veered off the trail toward a grove of river birch that thrust thirsty roots into a narrow tributary of the meandering Ruby. The stream circled behind Evangeline’s cottage and continued into the dense forest beyond. Hawk remembered the day they followed the sloping bank into the darkest part of the forest where the water turned frothy as it plummeted over a ridge and pooled at the bottom in a rocky cup. Two other branches of the Ruby fed the spot that Evangeline named Pandera’s Blessing because she said it reminded her of a still place where the forest creatures came to drink.

  The vibrant hues of past days tickled his memory like cherished friends, and he drifted among them glad for their company. He remembered how he and Evangeline left the horses to forage tender shoots from the forest floor while they half slid, half climbed down the steep embankment. He smiled thinking of how Evangeline made him promise not to watch when she left her garments draped over a fat buttonbush and waded into the pool. He had closed his eyes to honor the promise and failed miserably. Did she know? Did she look at him the same way before the water covered him? Mostly he remembered his last image of her the night he left for Shadall, lying among the furs with one small hand tucked under her determined chin, the dusty shadow of dark lashes that brushed her cheek, and the tender curve of her lips, puffy from shared passion. Every touch, every embrace had carried him through long weeks of separation. He hoped he’d catch her sleeping just the way he’d left her. He’d lie beside her in the early dawn, gather her close, and kiss the curve of her shoulder until she opened her eyes.

  Peruseus sidestepped, and Hawk gathered the loose reins. They crossed the narrow stream, climbed the sandy bank, and broke through the trees. Evangeline’s cottage stood dark and silent in the clearing. An hour at least before sunlight reached the spot but the dark he felt here bespoke something else. No odor of peat smoke, not even a hint. He knew he’d find a cold hearth and an empty room before he ever reached the door. He dismounted and strode toward the cottage. The door stood ajar and he pushed it back against the wall. The leather hinge-ties creaked and complained in need of oiling. He felt along the wall until he came to the mantle where Evangeline kept her tinderbox. Gone. He’d have to get his own from Peruseus’s pack. He stumbled over a wooden stool that lay on its side.

  Outside, the clearing was empty. A shrill whistle brought Peruseus at a trot.

  “Hungry, aren’t you?” He unsaddled the horse, led him into the lean-to. He found no fresh hay but drew a bucket of cool water from the well. The last of the oats he’d brought from Shadall would suffice for now. He retrieved the tinderbox, gathered an armload of kindling from next to the front stoop, and went inside to lay the fire.

  Flint sparks ignited a handful of straw. Flames licked the dry kindling, caught and blazed. He faced the empty room. His shadow stretched along the far wall, pushed onto the ceiling and leapt about in a bizarre ballet that answered the firelight’s insistent flicker. When had she left, how long ago and why? She must have had a reason. The kindling began to fail and he let the fire die away to glowing embers unsure why he had struck the tinder in the first place. Busy wo
rk he supposed to mark time, and avoid the truth. Evangeline didn’t live here anymore.

  ***

  “Where is she, Father?”

  “You’ve learned nothing.” King Ian slammed his fist against the tabletop and grimaced from the pain his anger cost.

  “You sent me away because you thought I’d forget her. Say I’m wrong.”

  “I thought the quest with Terill would make a man of you.”

  Hawk stood his ground and laughed. “I am a man, Father. Maybe not the one you wanted, but I am a man. Now tell me where she is.”

  “I didn’t send her away. She chose her own path.”

  “With a push from you? She is my wife.”

  “Evangeline burned your marriage agreement, son, but you can set all to rights.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Son, please. Listen to reason. Evangeline chose to go, and I gave her title and land. If you look for her she bares the title Lady now.”

  “You bought her?”

  “I reasoned with her about the land, and she saw truth in that.”

  “The same truth you gave Selene? She honors your name. Did you know that, Father?”

  “As I honor her.” Ian struggled to rise. “You must listen to me about Evangeline. You must listen.” His chest burned with the effort.

  “Honor? Do you even know the meaning of the word?” Hawk slung his pack across his shoulder and strode to the door. “Even after you deserted her. How Father? How could you travel the caves of Shadall, know the magic, and not find honor?” His breath came in sharp angry bursts. The morning had turned foul. He backed toward the door.