“Will you train me to be a Dragon Lord?” asked Marco.
“It takes time, Son,” answered his father. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to master your skills in less than a fortnight.”
“He might be able to if I help speed things up, using my magic,” said Lucio.
“What do you mean?” Marco asked with interest. “Can you control a dragon, too?”
“Nay. However, I can use my magic to transfer your father’s knowledge to you quickly. Then you will have all the information you need, and you’ll just need to work on the skills.”
“I would like that,” said Marco. “Father, is that all right with you?”
“Aye.” His father pushed up to a sitting position. “I am ready, Lord de Bar.”
“Put down the sword, Marco. You will need to sit as well.” Lucio took the sword from him and laid it on the end of the pallet. Once Marco sat, Lucio put one hand on Marco’s head and the other on the head of Marco’s father.
“What is supposed to happen?” asked Marco impatiently.
“Just close your eyes and clear your mind,” said his father.
“Brace yourself, because this is going to be powerful,” Lucio warned him.
At first, Marco just felt a slight tingling sensation and figured Lucio was exaggerating with his warning. But then it struck him like a bolt of lightning to his head. Fire appeared behind his closed eyelids and information poured into his brain like a stream of running water. Pictures flashed before him of his father and every ancestor who had ever been a Dragon Lord. He heard all their voices instructing him at once. The chaotic noise echoed in his ears, making his head feel as if it were going to explode. Then the face of a dragon flashed in his mind. Not one dragon, but many dragons. One by one, they passed before him. He became dizzy watching them all.
“You need to pick one,” his father told him. “Choose your dragon, and do it quickly. This cannot last much longer.”
“I don’t know,” he said, awestruck by the terrific scene of so many fierce dragons all at once.
“Hurry, Marco,” his father urged him on. “I cannot stand the pain much longer.”
Marco looked deeper into his vision. A fog clouded his sight. Then to his dismay, the dragons began to dissipate one by one. His stomach clenched and he felt as if he were going to retch. He honestly had no idea which dragon to choose. They all seemed so magnificent. His head dizzied, and he felt as if he were going to pass out. Covering his ring with his hand, he felt it glowing. The heat became intense. Then a pair of red eyes showed up in his vision. This was the one, he was sure of it.
“I want that one!” he said, feeling a tremendous whoosh of air against his face as soon as he’d made his decision. As he lost consciousness, he saw his chosen dragon flying straight for him. It was the scrawniest dragon ever, smaller than all the rest. He fell back on the pallet; all the air knocked out of him. Lucio slowly removed his hand from Marco’s head. The intense heat disappeared.
Marco opened his eyes to see his father scowling at him and shaking his head. “Really, Marco? Of all the majestic, powerful dragons you had to choose from, you picked the runt of the litter?”
“It just happened,” said Marco, feeling like he’d failed. “I think the dragon chose me.”
“Is it possible to use the dragon he chose to save my daughter?” Lucio asked Marco’s father.
“I suppose anything is possible,” said his father, still shaking his head. “Probable, not likely, but what choice do we have at this point? All I can say is we have a lot of work to do and very little time to do it.”
Chapter 13
The next morning, Marco stood atop a hill with his father and Lucio at his side. Having spent most of yesterday honing his fighting skills, today he was ready to call forth the dragon.
“I am not sure you are ready,” said his father, still having no faith in him.
“Where are the dragons, and how do I call them?” Marco was in a hurry to prove him wrong.
“Look inside, and you will know the answer,” Lucio explained. “I transferred all the information from your father’s memories into yours. All you need to do is tap into them.”
“How do I do that?”
“Still your mind, Son.” His father laid a hand on Marco’s arm. “Be one with the dragon, and it will come to you.”
“All right,” he said, taking a deep breath and releasing it. He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to visualize the dragon he chose yesterday. Nothing happened.
“Try touching the ring,” said his father. “And concentrate.”
“I will.” Marco rubbed the stone of with his thumb, feeling the ring vibrate and come to life. He focused, trying to connect with it and, at the same time, call the dragon to him. This time, in his mind’s eyes he saw a magnificent, red dragon. It flashed before his eyes. For an instant, he felt a connection. But then the small, bony dragon appeared, chasing the other one away. When he opened his eyes, he saw the little dragon coming over the hill, through the sky. Its wings were spread and it glided like a bird over the lake.
“There it is!” he said excitedly.
“God’s eyes, that thing is small and scrawny,” mumbled Lucio.
“It’s not at all what I expected,” added Marco’s father. “I don’t understand this. Something isn’t right.”
“It’s my dragon now,” said Marco proudly, raising his hands up over his head so the dragon would see him. He expected a grand entrance, but got something else instead. The dragon flew over his head, excreting right above him. Marco jumped out of the way, nearly getting soiled by the dragon droppings. Lucio burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny,” spat Marco, not liking that his big moment was ruined.
“I’ve never seen a dragon do that before,” said his father in astonishment.
“Dragon, come to me,” Marco commanded.
“That’s not the way it works, Son.” His father’s jaw dropped open in surprise as the scrawny little dragon landed right in front of Marco. “I don’t understand this at all,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“What’s there to understand?” asked Marco. “I called a dragon, and it came to me.”
“Is your ring glowing?” asked his father. “That is proof of your connection with the dragon.”
Marco looked down to his hand. The stone in the ring was not glowing at all. “No. But it doesn’t matter. My dragon is here, and I am going to ride it.”
Before anyone could stop him, he jumped atop the dragon and held on around its neck. The dragon hissed and bucked like a bronco, but Marco held on tightly. Then it flew up into the sky, taking him with it.
On the back of the dragon, Marco looked down at his father and Lucio far below. Since Lucio had tapped into his memories, Marco now remembered everything clearly about riding a dragon with his father when he was just a boy. It had felt different then. He had felt alive and as if the dragon’s energy were flowing right through him. But now, he didn’t feel a connection with the dragon at all. He looked down to his ring once more, but it was still not glowing.
“Take me down, dragon,” he commanded. The wind blew against his face, stinging his eyes. The air felt heavy and dense all around him. Instead of obeying, the dragon flew out over the lake. “I said, take me back. Put me down!”
The dragon’s head turned, perusing him. He couldn’t be sure, but he almost thought he saw it grinning. His father and Lucio were down below, following them along the shoreline. Right when the dragon got over the middle of the lake, it flipped upside down, dumping Marco into the water.
He came to the surface sputtering, spitting out water, angry and humiliated. As he swam to shore and climbed out of the lake, he noticed the dragon disappearing into the clouds. His moment was ruined. This is not at all what he thought would happen on his first day of being a Dragon Lord.
“Marco, are you hurt?” His father hobbled up to him with Lucio at his side. They helped him from the water.
“What h
appened?” asked Marco, looking for the dragon.
“The dragon dumped you,” Lucio pointed out the obvious.
“I know that,” he said. “But why did it happen? Did I do something wrong?”
“I have never seen a dragon act that way to a Dragon Lord before,” answered his father. “It has been a long time, and perhaps I don’t remember correctly, but I don’t think that is supposed to happen.”
“Mayhap it will take a while,” said Lucio. “Just give it more time. I must leave now and go back to my sons to tell them what is happening.”
“Do you need to tell them?” asked Marco, not feeling ready to let the de Bars know. He could already imagine how the men would laugh at him behind his back.
“They are my sons and Rapunzel’s brothers,” stated Lucio. “I will tell them of the deal we made, but I can’t keep information about their sister from them. My son, MacKay has already left for the Highlands to find my daughter, Ella. I won’t allow my newly-married sons to leave their wives to search for Rap when you already know where to find her.”
“I thank you for your help, Lord de Bar.” Marco’s father reached out and shook Lucio’s hand. “If it were not for you, I’d be lying dead in the forest right now.”
Marco didn’t like the fact that Lucio, instead of him, had saved his father’s life. It only made him even more determined to rescue Rapunzel.
“Will you return?” asked Marco.
“I will be back at the end of a fortnight along with my sons. If you haven’t managed to rescue Rapunzel by then, we will take over.”
“I assure you, I will not only rescue your daughter but also break her curse before our paths cross again.”
“Hold still, Medea,” Rapunzel told her sister as she ran a brush through the girl’s hair. Medea was nine years old now and had refused to sit on Rapunzel’s lap, acting much older than she should. “This ribbon will make you feel pretty. It will match the paint I put on your eyes and mouth.” She no sooner finished tying the ribbon, and Medea ripped it out of her hair. The girl threw the ribbon to the ground and stomped on it with her bare feet.
“I don’t want a ribbon, and I don’t want this silly paint on my face.” She wiped her face with her sleeve. Rapunzel had helped the girl dress in a gown Hecuba left for her, but Medea didn’t like that either.
“If you are going to be a lady, you need to start dressing like one.”
“I don’t want to be a lady, and I certainly don’t want to look like you.” Using magic, Medea changed her gown into a tunic and pair of breeches.
“Stop that,” commanded Rapunzel, having had her fill of the unruly child lately. Hecuba hadn’t been around often, and Marco hadn’t been back in days. If Rapunzel didn’t get out of here soon, she was going to go crazy.
“You can’t tell me what to do.” Medea crossed her arms over her chest.
“I am your older sister, and you will listen to me,” Rapunzel told Medea, not liking her sister’s new attitude.
“You scared Marco away.”
“I did not.”
“It’s your fault he’s not coming back. It’s because of that silly paint on your face, those stupid ribbons in your hair, and the ugly gowns you wear.”
“What is wrong with my appearance? I am a lady and need to look pretty.”
“I don’t agree. Matter of fact, I think you should look and dress more like me.” With a wave of her hand, Medea used magic to change Rapunzel’s clothes from a gown to a worn-out tunic and a pair of men’s breeches with a hole in the knee.
“Medea!” screamed Rapunzel, appalled at her new appearance. “What did you do?” She’d spent most of the morning fussing with her hair and face paints, making sure she looked beautiful in case Marco returned. But now, she looked like some kind of beggar.
Medea laughed, bringing Rapunzel’s anger to the surface once again. Rapunzel’s powers hadn’t emerged since she’d last seen Marco. But when she narrowed her eyes and raised her hand, Medea rose up into the air.
“Put me down,” screamed Medea, her arms flailing to the sides and her bare feet kicking at the air.
It amazed Rapunzel that she was using magic so easily when she had no idea how to control it. “Not until you apologize and give me back my gown.”
“Never.” A beam of light shot from Medea’s hand and Rapunzel felt her face tingling.
“What did you do?”
“Look in the mirror,” the girl said with a chuckle.
With her hand still raised high, Rapunzel glanced into the mirror and screamed again. Her sister had used her magic to draw big smears of colors of Rapunzel’s paint all over her face. Red swirls covered her cheeks combined with dark black circles drawn under her eyes. And the purple paint on her forehead trailed down her nose. Even her lips were purple and glittery.
“Naaaaay!” screamed Rapunzel, her hands going to her face. When she moved, Medea dropped to the ground with a loud thump.
Marco dismounted his horse at the foot of the tower, anxious to tell Rapunzel he had not only caught Roger the Rat but also managed to call forth and ride on a dragon. He missed Rapunzel and regretted staying away so long. But her last words had hurt him deeply. She had begged him to stay, but he hadn’t. She wasn’t going to be happy, and neither was Medea since he’d left without telling her goodbye.
“I need to bring them a gift,” he said to himself. Spying flowers blooming at the foot of the tower, he picked a rose for Rapunzel and a daisy for Medea. He sniffed them, drinking in the sweet scent, thinking about Rapunzel’s beauty and longing to kiss her again. It was a gorgeous day. The sun shone down, warming his face. The skies looked bluer than ever, and the white, puffy clouds looked like cotton. He wished he could take Rapunzel for a ride or at least for a stroll in the forest. She needed to hear the birds singing and see the squirrels hopping from branch to branch in the woods. Aye, he had to figure out a way soon to break her curse.
“Rapunzel,” he called out in a soft voice, hoping the witch wasn’t here. Since Hecuba only seemed to return at night, he figured he was safe. “Rapunzel, let down your hair,” he said, but she must not have heard him.
He was getting ready to call out again when a bloodcurdling scream came from the tower. “Rapunzel? Are you all right?” he shouted, but there was so much noise from the tower room, he couldn’t be heard. Things crashed and banged from above. Rapunzel’s scream was followed by what sounded like Medea laughing. Then there was more shuffling and banging, and a black puff of smoke drifted out the open tower window.
“Medea,” he said, shaking his head. The girl had to be up to her tricks again, angering Rapunzel. Seeing it was no use to call out again, he went back to his horse and collected a rope and grappling hook, using it to scale the wall of the tower.
Holding the flowers between his teeth, Marco climbed the wall in no time at all. He flipped over the sill, and dropped into the room through the window. What he saw was a mess worse than the one from the struggle at his hovel. Objects had been thrown around, and broken shards of dishes covered the floor. Bright colors of purple and red dripped down the walls. Rapunzel and Medea were rolling around the floor, fighting with each other.
He removed the flowers from his mouth. “Girls, stop that.”
They continued to fight and scream. Medea reached down and pulled Rapunzel’s hair, making her shout.
“I said, stop it.” They were fighting so intensely that they didn’t even know Marco was standing there. Finally, he put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly.
The fighting stopped, and both girls looked up in surprise.
“Marco,” said Rapunzel, pushing Medea off of her. “You’re back.”
She started to get up but, with a flick of Medea’s wrist, Rapunzel’s long braid slinked like a snake across the ground, wrapping around her like a rope, tying her up so she couldn’t move.
“Medea, you little witch, release me, now.” Rapunzel pulled at her confinements, but it only made them tighter.
&
nbsp; “Hello, Marco.” Medea ran to him and threw herself into his arms.
“Whoa, there,” he said, pushing her back and taking a good look at her. “My, how you’ve grown, Medea.”
“I am nine now. And tomorrow I will be ten and practically an adult.”
“I’m not sure about that,” he said with a chuckle.
“Marco, don’t even talk to her. She doesn’t deserve it after what she did to me.” Rapunzel’s hands were tied at her sides. She squirmed and struggled, trying to be released.
“What are you wearing?” asked Marco in amusement, seeing the old, dirty tunic and breeches on Rapunzel. He didn’t ever expect to see her in anything but a beautiful, elaborate gown. “And what’s that on your face?” He laughed aloud, not able to hold it in. She looked ridiculous with the colors smeared over her smooth, silken skin and with black circles drawn under her eyes.
“That’s the paint Rapunzel wears on her face,” Medea told him. “She thinks it makes her look like a lady.”
“Well, I have to admit that I’ve never seen a lady look quite like that before.”
“She tried to make me look like that, so I stopped her,” said Medea with a satisfied smile.
“I can see that,” he said in amusement.
“What’s that in your hand?” asked Medea, eying the flowers.
“I brought a gift for both of you.”
The girl’s eyes opened wide in excitement. “Which one is my flower?”
“Before I give it to you, untie Rapunzel.”
“Don’t bother,” spat Rapunzel. Her magic was getting stronger. With a nod of her head, the braid unwrapped itself from around her, freeing her from her confinement. Marco rushed over and helped her to her feet.
“Now, can I have my flower?” asked Medea, following him around the room like a puppy.
“Here you go,” he said, giving her the daisy.
Lady in the Tower [Rapunzel] Page 9