by T. K. Kiser
“We have to help you,” David said.
Giles clenched his jaw. “He’s mouthing Save the dragon. Save Navafort.”
“But Limly…”
The dust dropped over them like snow. The corn still lay pressed to the ground, and Limly stopped breathing. Carine braced herself against the gate. The bars were cold in Carine’s grasp. She and the princes were alone now. Limly had paid for their disobedience to the sorcerer with his life.
She knelt at the servant’s side and pressed back his hair. Limly had said he wanted to serve the kingdom. If the sorcerer killed him to instill fear or to inspire them to obey him, then his plan did not work. It would not work. She squeezed Limly’s cold hand, meeting David’s eyes in a shared spiral of loss.
If she could not stop all magic in Navafort, Carine would do everything in her power to keep out the Heartless Ones. She would find out who this new sorcerer was and defeat him.
35 Wall Runners
“Why didn’t he kill all of us?” Giles wondered as he dug the grave.
Carine cleaned off Limly’s dirty face with some water on her sleeve. He looked younger than his age of mid-forties. He shouldn’t be dead.
“The sorcerer might need you as a symbol,” Carine said to the princes. “If you two go back, it will show the kingdom that even the princes will bow to him…which means I’m his next target.” The field, bare and flat, showed no sign of the sorcerer. “How long until he strikes again?”
David brushed off his hands and came to Limly’s ankles. He met Carine’s eyes. “Let’s not find out.”
Giles lifted Limly’s shoulders, and they lowered him into the shallow grave. David hummed a funeral hymn as Giles covered the body in dirt and parts of the nearby plants. Carine put all her fingertips together on her right hand, placed them to her mouth, then her heart, and released her fingers in the traditional funeral symbol of releasing the spirit of the dead to the Etherrealm.
Her heart, eyes, and throat ached when she turned again to the gate.
The man with the white frizzy hair stood inside. He met her eyes gently, sadly.
“Please, open the gate,” Carine said. Their travel time had been going according to plan, but walking around Midway, especially with this sorcerer lurking, would set them back many days.
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t have the keys to the gate, but I brought something else that might help you.” From behind the wall, he produced a large bundle of white rope and wood bars. “I don’t recommend you enter Midway. There is a Heartless One loose in here, but if you trace the perimeter of the city walking atop its walls, you can make it to the north gate.”
Minutes later, he appeared panting at the top of the wall. The rope unfurled against the brick until the rope ladder grazed the plants that grew by the wall.
“Can we trust him?” David said, kneeling at Limly’s grave. He watched the ladder like water in the desert, hope in sorrow, but a potential mirage.
“We’ll have to,” Carine said.
The wind whistled through her clothes as she neared the top of the wall. Carine didn’t dare to look down as the breeze and the princes’ movements swayed the ladder.
“Hurry up! Hurry up!” the man said. “We’re not supposed to be up here.”
“Then why do you have a ladder?” Carine grasped his forearm, and he steadied her onto the top, which was more than thirty feet high and no more than three feet wide.
“Not many menfolk live in Midway,” he said, his voice low. “When I was young, I was hired as a messenger, despite my inherent slowness as a non-centaur. The others used to block me from coming in when I took too long so I fashioned this ladder, and my sister would race up the ramps inside Midway and lower it down to me.”
The man reached for David, who turned to help Giles up. As usual, Giles clenched his jaw, but his posture wasn’t straight. He crouched close to the wall.
David whispered to Carine, “You’d think by the way he carries himself that Giles wouldn’t be afraid of anything.”
“Let’s move!” hissed the man. He scuttled down the pathway built into the top of the wall, the ladder bundled under his arm.
Carine carefully planted her feet. On any ground-level path three feet wide, Carine would have no trouble. But knowing that falling would break her neck, each step took on new urgency.
None of the three had energy to speak. Each step required complete concentration.
The man didn’t have the same problem. “My name is Riolo,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t intercede earlier. I’m so sorry for your friend. I saw the Heartless One and was afraid.”
“He wasn’t a Heartless One,” said Carine, growing accustomed to the pattern of steps. “Unless there are two of them.”
“What do you mean? He had magic?”
“There are a few things we know: a Heartless One died in Esten without any flame to extinguish him. A few days later, a man with magic demanded that no one leaves and today killed Limly because we left. I think that they’re the same person; the same man who killed Limly also killed Selius.”
“But that would require—”
“Mispronunciation,” Carine said, “which takes more than a hundred years to dabble in, a length of time that menfolk can’t commit to study, even if they live that long.”
Riolo turned. His eyes were wild, his figure almost a silhouette against the setting sun. David, watching his feet, bumped into Carine and lost his balance. Carine grabbed his arm. He hugged the top of the wall and steadied himself.
“What happened?” Giles said, looking up from the back.
Riolo hadn’t moved his gaze from Carine. “Firebrand,” he said. His wide eyes didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe.
“Who is that?” Carine asked. It was the same name that Alviar had muttered during the storm.
“Who is Firebrand?” A dark laugh grazed his lips. “Menfolk in Esten don’t study centaur history, to their demise.”
“So he’s a centaur,” Carine said.
“Yes, and the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. Come!”
Riolo sprinted now, his cape flowing behind him like a dark flag. Questions whirred through Carine’s brain, but Riolo was too far ahead to ask. She took off her shoes and stepped barefoot over the wall, which had been smoothed by years of rainfall. David mimicked her, but Giles lagged.
“Hurry!” hissed Riolo. Looking down into Midway, Carine wondered at the empty stalls and streets. The centaurs would be nearly sleeping now. But how could they, knowing there was a Heartless One loose in their city?
Carine caught up to their guide, who was huffing and out of breath.
“Please,” she said. “Do you think the sorcerer that killed Limly and Selius is this Firebrand?”
He inhaled. “It doesn’t make sense to me, because the one that killed your friend is a man, not a centaur. Also, Firebrand would be too old to still be living. I don’t understand it, but no one else besides Firebrand has ever had that kind of power.” He shook his head. “All I can guess is that when Luzhiv attacked Kavariel in the west, he unleashed the world’s greatest evils.”
Carine swallowed. “So this sorcerer, this man who is like Firebrand, how can we defeat him?”
Riolo shook his head. “I don’t believe there is a way. Your only chance…well, I heard the man make a request of you.”
“He wants us to go back, but you don’t suggest we obey him, do you?”
“For your sake, do. Return to Esten. Appease him.”
“We can’t do that,” Carine said, panic rising in her chest. They couldn’t go back without finding a way to save the kingdom, including her parents. “If you think we should go back, why are you helping us across the wall?”
“Because”—Riolo looked into his dark city—“your friend said you are going to heal Kavariel. Midway’s Heartless One strikes without reason, however he pleases. We need the dragon back, and if you can restore him, we’re counting on you. For your sake, appease the sorcerer. For ours,
heal Kavariel.”
Just as he finished speaking, a singsong voice lifted up from below. “Who are those little mice?” The speaker was a faun. He was dark in the new night with a frizzled hair and beard.
Riolo stopped. “It’s him.”
“Who?” Carine asked.
“The Heartless One who’s taken over Midway.”
The Heartless faun found a ramp inside the wall. He climbed, hobbling over his hooves as though they were injured.
“What are you standing here for?” Carine said. “Run!”
Riolo didn’t budge. “No. Take the ladder. You go. At the north gate are two more pegs in the wall. Hook the ladder to the pegs and descend. Get to Kavariel. Capture his flame or heal him. Either way, save us.”
David and Giles ran up behind as Riolo transferred the ladder. Carine took the heavy bundle, fearful it would throw off her balance, if the Heartless faun didn’t get to them first. He clunked up the ramps.
“Go!” David said.
“Wait.” Riolo grabbed her arm. “One more thing: stop in Verdiford. There is a scholar there named Ansa. She has done extensive research about Firebrand. She might be able to tell you about the man who killed your friend. Ansa. Can you remember that?”
“Yes,” Carine said, watching the faun approach.
“Go then,” Riolo said, stepping aside for Carine to pass. She hurried past, the boys close behind her. They ran and ran until Riolo was a speck, like a mouse, on the wall behind them. The Heartless faun joined him on the brick, and must have spoken a word.
The brick crumbled, and their guide toppled down.
36 Where Dragons Sing
Leaving Midway meant leaving their kingdom of Navafort and entering the northern region of Fletchkey.
Carine and the princes walked through fields, emotions boiling over until a patch of tall pines gave them privacy. David punched the first tree they came to. Giles rested his forehead against soft bark. Carine squatted in the grass, face in her hands.
Two men had died for their mission, and no one could speak. Instead, they curled up separately under the tree, and without food or drink, they tried to sleep.
Carine couldn’t. Death stalked them, almost tangibly—first Limly, now Riolo. Carine didn’t have to be a genius like Giles to know she was next on the list.
Just as she thought this, Giles rolled to face her. “Are you stupid?” His harsh question came out matter-of-factly, in the typical Giles way, but Carine felt the weight of the deaths in his voice. “Honestly, I’d like to know, because you would have to be stupid to put David on this suicide mission.”
Carine pushed herself up and looked over at David, who was lightly snoring. “What are you saying?”
“Our idea was to capture the dragon’s flame. That in itself is dangerous and honorable enough. I was already concerned that my obsessive brother might get too close from mere curiosity. Now he thinks himself a hero. The only reason David’s sane right now is that he’s dreaming about petting the dragon’s scales and becoming best friends with it. You know that’s what he’s thinking. Have you thought about this at all, Carine? How do you expect David to get the blood into the dragon’s mouth? Have you thought of that?”
“Why didn’t you say any of this earlier? Why didn’t you say this to David?”
“Our relationship is complicated. Scratch that. It’s fragile. So is my brother. One step too close to that dragon and he’ll burn—like Alviar, but to death.”
Like her sister. “I’m sorry.” Carine repositioned her head on a root.
“That’s not enough.”
“Then what do I do? Can’t you convince him to change his mind? David looks up to you, Giles. He tries to hide it, but he does. You know it.”
Giles inhaled through his nose. “David won’t listen to me. I have never seen him this determined.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
His dark hair was silvery blue in the moonlight. His lips formed a straight line. Somehow Giles managed to look regal even with bed head and dirt on his face and clothes. “You may not think I’m the type of person that would care about this. But these last few weeks, my brother and I have gotten along. He usually spends time with his friends, but this has been nice—together. I do not wish to jeopardize that by standing in his way, especially not when this is your fault and your responsibility to clean up.”
“He won’t listen to me. I’m just a shoemaker.”
“You’re his friend.”
“But what if healing Kavariel really is the best thing to do? If we only capture the flame, we’ll only have protection for one year.”
“He’s my brother,” Giles gritted. “You let me worry about protecting the kingdom.”
Carine sighed. “What if he doesn’t listen?”
Giles pulled his surcoat over his shoulder like a blanket. “Then be creative. This was your idea, Carine. His blood is on your hands.”
They waded through miles of overgrown fields spotted with occasional islands of evergreens. Giles forged the trail up ahead. He didn’t speak to Carine.
David had woken up refreshed, as though hungry to feel happiness again.
“Did you know,” he said to Carine, high-stepping through tall grasses, “that you can hear the dragons farther north in Fletchkey? There’s a place up there where the Etherrealm nearly touches ours. You can see green and pink lights dancing to the dragon’s music as they sing in their realm. They say it melts hearts.”
“You told me.”
David swept the tops of the grasses with his hands. “Well, did you know it’s painful for dragons to enter this realm? That’s why Kavariel and the others don’t stay. They come for their duty and jump right back to the Etherrealm.”
“What about Luzhiv? He stays.”
David shrugged. “He doesn’t count. He’s always the exception. But you know, it’s probably still painful for him, staying. And that’s what I wonder about. Why does Luzhiv stay? Why does he put himself through that pain? Just to turn people into Heartless Ones? Just to attack other dragons? That’s why it’s so important to heal Kavariel. Good Ether. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner. Once I heal the dragon, not only will we get our borders back, but he can go home. Right now, he’s uncomfortable just being in this realm. Not to mention that he’s torn up and maybe dying. I can’t imagine.”
“David…” she said.
His eyebrows knit, hearing the change of subject in her tone. “What?”
Carine’s fingertips drummed against her stained surcoat. “Never mind. Sorry. Go on.”
“Okay. Well, like I was saying, it’s not natural for them to stay here long. At least, that’s what they concluded the last time Luzhiv injured a dragon. But his wounds weren’t nearly as bad as Kavariel’s are now. At least, according to what we know.”
Carine pushed her hair behind her ear and stopped. “David.”
He didn’t ask this time. He watched her face, serious. Ahead, Giles slightly altered his gait. He must have heard the change of subject, but he kept walking ahead.
Carine pulled at the scratchy fabric of her skirt. “I’ve been thinking…maybe when we were in the shop, maybe I hadn’t thought everything through.”
David smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll fill in the details. Trust me, I’ve been thinking about it plenty.”
Carine glanced at Giles, but he didn’t look at her back. “Like what?”
“Well, the main challenge is getting the blood into the dragon’s mouth. I was thinking and thinking about it, but the answer is simple. All I need to do is tie the vial to an arrow and shoot his mouth.”
“Bow and arrow, that’s smart.”
“Especially since it’s my favorite weapon,” David said. “I can’t compete with Giles as far as swords go, but I can hit any target.”
Carine nodded. She wanted his plan to work, but his idea had one crucial problem. “But the dragon’s mouth will have to be open.”
“Yeah, so?”
“
You know what happens when a dragon opens its mouth, don’t you?”
David’s face changed. He was suspicious now, defensive. “That’s why I’ll use a bow and arrow. It’s a perfect solution. I can shoot it from a safe distance. And don’t worry about Kavariel. I’ll remove the arrow tip and replace it with the vial.”
“It’s not the dragon I’m worried about. You say you can shoot it from a safe distance…are you sure?” Carine wanted to shake him, realizing now that he really could be setting himself up to die just like Louise.
David furrowed his brow. “This is my mission, okay? I know what I’m doing.”
“But what if you—”
“Carine, you’re driving me crazy. I’m not a scholar or swordsman like Giles. I’m not a speaker or charmer like Marcel. But this is one thing I can do. I know I can. It’s my destiny.” She didn’t respond. “I thought you believed in me too.”
“I’m not saying you can’t. I’m asking you, please don’t.”
Jaw tense, he shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest and looking out over the field. “I can’t believe it.”
“Kavariel killed my sister, David. I don’t want you to die the same way.”
“Boo-flaming-hoo.”
His words were vitriolic and stung Carine. She watched his face for some remorse, but David didn’t turn her way. Carine walked ahead in silence until the sun began to set.
Fletchkey silence wasn’t as peaceful as it was made out to be.
37 Eerie Camping
The next day, they used up the last of their money on two horses and some rations in a Fletchkey village.
A few miles outside town, they made camp. No one spoke. Giles collected sticks from the surrounding forest. Carine pushed coals around, and David, sitting across from Carine, didn’t look at her. The firelight lit up his face as he scowled.
Carine dropped the stick she was using to push coals and watched David’s face. His hair was flat and oily from the journey, and there was ash on his chin. His clenched jaw did not relax. He did not look up.