A Crown of Flames

by Pauline Creeden

“King Varinn took his army in pursuit of Nauma. Gefjun is with him.”

  “Ah.” Dyrfinna was disappointed that she wasn’t on that ship with them.

  Ibn said, “I noticed you have an issue with control in your magic-singing.”

  Dyrfinna felt her face go red. “Sorry to hear about that. I never noticed.” But that was all bluster.

  He was nonplused. “You’ve been well taught. However, your case is unique.”

  “How so?” asked Dyrfinna, lifting her head.

  “Your training, I’d imagine, has been thorough. But there’s an element that might have escaped them. When you were singing at Nauma, I felt a great deal of raw power in your magic. That power alone, if properly channeled, should have been able to overwhelm Nauma after a time.”

  Dyrfinna tried not to show her frustration. “I’m quite aware of that. Thank you very much.”

  “Not so quickly, now, imperious one,” Ibn said quietly. “There are elements of your magic that are extremely antagonistic to one another. Oil and water, as it were, but more than that. They each explode in the presence of the other, a struggle to the finish.”

  “I’m afraid that is also old news to me,” she said. “And I’ve been taught to partition those two parts of the powers, and yet, even when I do, something spins out of control. So I worked on the spin as well. But ….”

  Dyrfinna stopped for a moment, remembering.

  She had sung down the emberdragon on the dead island, and nothing had exploded or gone wrong. She had simply been singing. Magic had been at work, though she wasn’t clear about what kind it had been. She hadn’t examined it.

  But there was another piece of information that Ibn didn’t know.

  “My sister,” she said. “I killed my sister through my magic when I was ten. That’s when those powers started warring with each other.”

  “And your teachers knew about this.”

  “Oh yes,” she said distantly. “They all knew. Skala is a city, but we’re just seven hundred people, so we all know each other pretty well.”

  “Any judgmental people?” he asked.

  “How did you guess?” she said flatly.

  “Because people are jerks.”

  She snorted. “You’re pretty smart.”

  “I work at it.” Ibn got up. “I had a number of the same challenges that you did. One time I managed to blast my teacher off a cliff.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did. It was fortunately a small cliff. He was very angry about that. His words still ring in my head, all these years later. ‘You ignorant mule, you donkey, you wretch!’ He would not talk to me for a full month. So angry.”

  “So did you win back his favor or did he just slowly come around?”

  “I won back his favor by cleaning out his stables.”

  Dyrfinna made a face. “Oh. You really worked at it, then.”

  Ibn shrugged, sitting cross-legged next to her. “I needed his guidance, and he was a very good teacher. If I would have lost him, I would have not been able to advance at all in my studies, and then I would have not been able to gain a valuable position and travel, which is what I wanted to do most of all in my life.”

  “Travel, or advance to a valuable position?” Dyrfinna yawned.

  “Both. And that’s what I’m doing now. It never would have been possible if I had not been willing to clean out his stables.” He gave Dyrfinna a thoughtful look. “Are you falling asleep?”

  Dyrfinna opened her eyes wide. “Um, no.”

  He placed the rose on her chest. “One more sleep. Then I think you’ll be able to stand and try something. Nothing strenuous.”

  Dyrfinna fell asleep. The last thing she heard was the strange, delightful music he sang over her, and warmth gathered in her chest as she nodded off.

  She awoke again early the next day, and now she was ready to go. “I’m ready to call the emberdragon and go after Nauma.”

  Ibn gave her a mock frown. “The king is pursuing Nauma. I’m not going to send you out into battle and have another sword thrown through you.”

  “I won’t let it happen again,” Dyfinna grumbled.

  Ibn gazed at her mildly. “Mm-hm.”

  Dyrfinna subsided and drank her gruel. Everyone had left with the king to battle Nauma, knowing Dyrfinna would be safe in the care of Ibn and the roses.

  “I have an experiment I want to try, with your permission. If you’re able to stand.”

  Dyrfinna nodded. Varinn seemed to hold Ibn in high esteem, and she trusted his judgment. “Help me up.”

  She took his hands, enjoying how their hands looked together, his brown, hers white. “What do you need me to do?” she said as she stood.

  “Do you feel all right?” he asked, watching her face closely. “Are you sick, dizzy, nauseated?”

  Dyrfinna checked how she felt, her hand still in his. “I feel fine.” She took a deep breath, but everything seemed to be in order. “That’s some amazing magic you have going.”

  “It’s not all mine,” Ibn said. “Now, I’m going to stand at your side, here, with your permission.” He stood at her left side. “Wait, are you right or left-handed?”

  “Left-handed.”

  “Good. Then I’m standing in the right place.”

  Dyrfinna raised both eyebrows. “You mean the left place.”

  “Pff, you punsters are all abominations. Now, we stand shoulder to shoulder, facing forward.” He then took a few steps forward, picked up a small rock, and balanced it on top of another rock. Then he rejoined her. “I’m going to sing a simple bit of song-magic to make the rock fall to the ground. Follow along with me, and sing it just the same way I do.”

  “Simple enough,” Dyrfinna admitted.

  “We will see,” Ibn said mildly. He drew a breath, then began singing. She sang along with him. Moving objects with song was not her best skill, but the spell was simple enough. She followed his song as closely as possible, though his song was much softer than she was used to.

  The rock quivered, then tipped, and it clattered to the ground.

  “Simple enough,” Ibn agreed. “Now. Try this music.” He sang a different music in a style she was not familiar with. He slid up from a low note to a higher note, sang some decorative little turns, and sailed back down.

  “Hey, hold on there,” Dyrfinna complained. “I’ll have you know that our music is straightforward and bland.”

  “Are you bragging or simply explaining what is true?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “Well, then. We’ll try something in your style.” He sang a soft song, a quiet song that she could barely hear. She tried to sing at the same volume he did, but her voice wouldn’t allow it.

  “It’s too soft,” she said. “Can I hum it?”

  “Yes, actually,” he said, delighted. “It’s not as if you need the words.”

  He sang again. This time, she hummed along. The rock teetered, then tumbled to the ground.

  “Lovely, lovely. Now,” he said, walking over and replacing the rock, “You sing to the rock yourself and tip it off. Any style you like, any way you like.” He took a few steps behind her. “Go ahead.”

  “Simple enough,” Dyrfinna said, eyeing the rock. She burst out in song against the stone to make it pop off the rock.

  Out of nowhere, a small explosion knocked her backward off her feet.

  Ibn caught her before she hit the ground, but he was thrown off balance and fell down as well, and they ended up in a heap.

  Dyrfinna looked over at the rock. It was still sitting there.

  “You nearly knocked my turban off,” Ibn said.

  “I knocked everything down but the rock,” Dyrfinna said.

  “You would have been better off if you’d just walked over and kicked the rock.”

  Dyrfinna untangled herself and got up. “That’s what I usually do,” she said. “You can’t believe how much trouble it saves.”

  Ibn helped steady her on her feet. “Yes, but if you
have the power, why not use it?”

  “Well, as you might have noticed, everything blows up when I do.”

  “That was a rhetorical question,”

  “So, are you going to offer me solutions or ask rhetorical questions?”

  “Both,” Ibn said, raising a finger.

  “I wouldn’t mind the rhetorical questions if they were actually helpful,” Dyrfinna grumbled.

  “How long have you been angry at the world?” he asked.

  She shut her mouth and narrowed her eyes at him. “All my life. Is that also rhetorical?”

  “You seem to be quite intense,” he said.

  “I’m not intense,” she informed him intently.

  “I need you to stop proving every point I make,” he said. “Now sing, and pretend that you’re not angry at the world.”

  She started to, then stopped dead. “What kind of crazy talk is that?”

  “Rhetorical advice?” he asked.

  “Ugh!”

  He flicked his fingers at her. “Just try it. And don’t be afraid to sing quietly.”

  She glared at the stone.

  “You are looking at the stone as if it’s your enemy,” he said.

  “I was not,” she muttered, now looking at Ibn as if he were the enemy.

  “Who is the most precious person on earth to you?”

  Skeggi popped immediately to mind. What a sad specimen of humanity she was. “My little sister Aesa,” she told him.

  “Then look at the rock as if it’s your sister. And sing to her. Ask it to fall off the stone.”

  She sang to the stone in her soft voice, which was the way she sang to Aesa when she was little, she sang to the stone asking it to slide down off the rock.

  It did just as she asked, with a little push from the music.

  The rock was down. No explosions.

  “It worked!” she said.

  “Nicely done,” Ibn said, folding his hands together. “Now keep practicing that until you’ve perfected it. Then we can move up to larger targets. Finally, I hope, we can use it in battle against attackers without blasting ourselves to the moon.”

  Dyrfinna gave him a look.

  And he laughed.

  19

  Dragon Parley

  Later that day, the emberdragon returned. I’ve brought the other undead dragon back to earth where it belonged, she said quietly. It was a hard fight, but one more is down.

  “Thank you,” Dyrfinna said. She laid a hand on the dragon’s nose, and the dragon bent her head down to her.

  I’m worn out, the emberdragon said. While I was gone, I flew out and checked my babies on the island, she said. They’re still safe. I also swiped a bull for them out of what was left of your beef herd when no one was looking, she told Dyrfinna.

  “I’m fine with that. Your babies need to stay alive,” Dyrfinna said. “These attacks are depleting the dragon population, and I want to see your babies survive all this.”

  I do too. Speaking of the dragon population, the emberdragon said, they’re all coming here.

  Dyrfinna shook her head. “Who’s doing what where?”

  My fellow dragons. They are coming here, right now, she said, lifting her head toward the horizon.

  Dyrfinna followed the emberdragon’s gaze.

  That was when the first dragons flew in, an emerald one, a topaz one.

  More dragons were flying in, some way out on the horizon so they looked like birds. Others came swooping in, all riderless.

  The sight was magnificent enough. But now Dyrfinna’s heart fluttered, and she took an involuntary step forward.

  Because here came three dark garnet dragons from Queen Saehildr.

  Rjupa’s dragon was one of them.

  And Rjupa and Skeggi were on board.

  Dyrfinna screamed to see them. “Hey!” she shouted out to them at the top of her lungs. “Whoo!”

  And after a moment, she heard Skeggi laughing from far away, which warmed her to her heart.

  Their dragon landed, and Dyrfinna ran over and hugged Rjupa and Skeggi both.

  “We’ve had an interesting talk with Queen Saehildr,” Rjupa said. “Though when I say ‘interesting’ I mean ‘extremely uncomfortable.’”

  “She was more upset that you’d escaped, than she was about the undead shamblers who were trying to climb over the walls of our city,” Skeggi grumbled. But he was searching Dyrfinna’s face, and this time, he was not avoiding her eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay. I had an odd feeling about it. I thought that something might have happened to you.”

  Dyrfinna lost her breath for a moment. Then she caught herself. “We fought Nauma up here,” she said. “We freed Gefjun and Varinn and their army from the rose bramble. But Nauma escaped, and she flew to Varinn’s keep with Varinn and his army in pursuit.”

  “But you’re okay,” Rjupa added with a scrutinizing look at Dyrfinna.

  “I’m fine! Never felt better!” Dyrfinna said.

  “Once we got the sword out of her body, that is,” Ibn said, coming up to the group. He gave her a scrutinizing look. “Why, Dyrfinna! You’d better sit down. I just saw all the blood leave your face.”

  “And mine,” said Skeggi, who simply sat down where he was.

  “Sword! What sword?” Rjupa demanded.

  Dyrfinna sighed. “You didn’t have to tell them,” she complained to Ibn.

  “You had a sword thrown through you, so you don’t just get to stand there and tell them it was merely a scratch.” Ibn pointed to the rose bramble. “You need to sit down. As a matter of fact, let us all sit down and talk.”

  “Yes, we have a lot to catch up on,” Rjupa said, staring in amazement at Dyrfinna.

  Dyrfinna talked Ibn into letting her sit on a boulder outside of the rose bramble, because she wanted to watch the dragons coming in. She told her friends about the battle between her forces and Nauma’s dragons, and how Nauma had escaped, and how Gefjun had saved her life.

  Then Skeggi and Rjupa told her how the queen was angry that Dyrfinna had escaped, and how her dragon Fluffy had pointed out that the Queen seemed to be under an enchantment. Then Dyrfinna asked the emberdragon to accept Ibn’s sacrifice so that he could follow the war council.

  And while all this was going on, the dragons kept coming in, and they, too, were talking to each other. The conversation between the four humans kept dying away as they listened to what the dragons were saying.

  Every king or queen has been breeding dragons of the same color for all these years, so our matings have failed, one said. We need to mix things up. Free ourselves from our human bonds.

  Not all of us, said Rjupa’s dragon. Some of us are devoted to our humans. All the same, she added wistfully, I could use a little time to myself. She leaned toward a green dragon. They bumped heads, purring like cats. I haven’t seen you since forever.

  “Queen Saehildr is not going to be happy about this,” Rjupa murmured.

  It’s not her business what these dragons do. The emberdragon raised her head imperiously. After all, the Queen can roam and find her own mate. They cannot.

  Dyrfinna walked a little way from the rose bush, but the cold winds that blew around it forced her back a few steps, back to the edge of the roses. She hadn’t minded the cold winds before, but she acknowledged that she still had a lot of healing to do.

  From here, though, she could see the other dragons flying in. It was strange to see that many dragons aloft but see nobody on their back. She’d seen this many dragons before, when they were at war, and they all had riders. In battle they fought each other. But here, they flew in side by side as companions.

  “So, why do the dragons do this?” Dyrfinna murmured. “Why do they fight our battles for us?”

  Brilliant yellow topaz dragons sailed in. Wings stormed as dragons rushed in for a landing. Dyrfinna sat on her boulder, watching in wonder, talking to Skeggi and Rjupa, and Ibn brought her furs to wrap herself in as she greeted some of the dragons arriving.

  More ca
me in. “It’s so good to see you,” said Dyrfinna.

  The air filled with the smell of cinders and sulfur.

  The first thing the arriving dragons did was to exclaim about the desecration of the dragon barrow.

  That will be one of the first things we take care of, said the dragons to each other.

  They sat down and gathered together, dragons of all shapes and sizes and colors. Some were the little bumblebee dragons that Dyrfinna had heard of from the islands further up the coast. A few dark-brown dragons, their scales glimmering like smoky quartz, had arrived from a Dane colony a ways out of the area. Some dragons brought a cow or a big deer they’d caught along the way, which they shared with their friends.

  Dyrfinna marveled at the dragons. All the dragons mingled and talked, so many different dragons. Not machines of war, simply dragons. They flew up all together like a flock of glimmering, jeweled birds, wings flashing.

  Then came flying in the black ancient dragon from King Varinn’s keep, flanked by three of his onyx black dragons. It wasn’t until this dragon flew in close that Dyrfinna recognized who it was. She knelt in deference to her age and wisdom, and the other dragons spread their wings and bowed their heads low as she came flying in with her fellow dragons.

  Rise, said the ancient dragon in a voice that brooked no argument. They rose.

  Come, she said. Before we do anything else, we must restore what has been broken.

  The ancient one walked through the dragons as they made way for her.

  Dyrfinna had spoken to the ancient dragon before when she’d allowed the goddess Skuld to speak through her. Dyrfinna was wary, because being dressed down by a goddess, or a dragon, is not a pleasant thing. But the ancient dragon had important work to be done. Dyrfinna kept out of the way, though she was honored to be in the presence of such a solemn event.

  The ancient one walked through until she came up to the holy barrow where the dragons had been laid to their eternal rest. She silently viewed the damage that Nauma had done – the missing gaps within the dead where she’d stolen the dragons and made them undead, the frozen lake of blood before the barrow.

  It sickens me to see this, she hissed. This one walked into our hallowed space and stole the bodies of those we hold dear. She killed with impunity at our very doorstep. We must purify all of this.