CHAPTER THREE
“The princess waited for many years for her father’s wrath to melt. Her tree grew tall and strong, as do all the trees under the protection of the Forest Elves. But still no one came to release her. No one came to say she was forgiven. Her tree grew old and lighting split it open. The princess left her prison. But still her father did not come.”
“Were you lonely, Princess?” Theo asked.
“Be silent.” Lexi sniffed. Later would suffice to tell Theo of the end of the Kingdom of Erikki and the death of the Forest Elves. “Then one day,” she continued rather huskily, “Filthy thieves discovered the princess’s island.”
“Pirates?” Theo asked.
“Viking Pirates,” Lexi said it like a curse.
“Dragons?”
“Yes. Viking dragons. Hush, Son of Lind. They set axes to the princess’s trees and chopped them down. But the princess was not as foolish as she had been when she was young, and she did not reveal herself to these tree-murderers. She watched them, and she planned her revenge. But before she could act, the leader of those filthy pirates – Snorre by name and manner – chopped down the mighty oak tree that held the ring of Hrothgar. He knew at once what it was and seized it. He put it around his arm, and went in search of the Elvish maiden to whom it belonged.”
Theo’s long forefinger brushed her bare arm. “Did Snorre catch you, Princess?”
“You’re not listening properly,” Lexi complained, even though it felt very reassuring to be touched by this oversized, mannerless lout.
“Go on,” he encouraged.
“The brigand was caught, as is the fate of all those who rob the elves,” Lexi said fiercely. “You would do well to remember that, Theodor son of Lind. Longboats, bigger and more heavily armored than those of Snorre, sailed up to the harbor where the thief’s boats lay. These were the boats of the Sons of Lind, come in search of the despoiler of their farms and daughters.”
“My people?”
“Your people. They were led by one of your ancestors Bujold the One-Eyed. The yellow dragons fought those black dragons. On sea, on land, and in the sky. Their battle raged for many days. On the last day, Snorre the Thief fell out of the sky into the black water that lies between this island and the land of the Forest Elves.”
“I guess this means you owe the house of Lindorm, Princess?” Theo grinned.
“On the contrary,” she corrected him. “It is the House of Lindorm that owes me. Snorre the Thief took my ring to his grave. I want it back. That is your Quest, Dragon.” Lexi paused dramatically. “If you are successful, Son of Lind, I will take you as my husband. Together we shall rule the Kingdom of the Forest Elves.”
He laughed so hard she tumbled backwards onto his sleeping place.
* * *
It appeared as though his laughter had gotten rid of his troublesome elf or pixie, or whatever that Princess of the Kingdom of Erikki was. Feeling melancholy because she had vanished was silly. She was a nuisance. A disagreeable, violent gnat. And yet he missed her.
Theo dabbed antibiotic salve on his palm and debated the need for a bandage. The bleeding had mostly stopped. Despite the pain, he decided he didn’t actually need to cover the punctures. They burned as though Princess Alexandra had stabbed him with red-hot needles. But he was tough. Örlogskapten Lindorm, hero of the Swedish Royal Navy, could handle a pixie’s wrath.
He dressed carefully for dinner. Mamma liked to make a fuss on these last days leading up to Christmas. He should make an effort for her sake. He had always had difficulty maintaining the sleek appearance that other dragons seemed to achieve effortlessly. Even Gunnar, young as he was, troubled with all of the gawkiness of adolescence, was more elegant than his older brother.
Dinner tonight would be formal, but not so formal that it would be appropriate for him to wear his dress uniform. He was always certain to look tidy when he wore that. But nothing he did would give him the careless elegance of his brother-in-law. He would always look like an unkempt barbarian in the presence of debonair Ivan Sarkany, Duke of Balaur.
After his shower, he again tied his hair back into a queue. It looked sleeker that way than it did lying around his shoulders in its habitual tangle. It was how he wore it when he was on duty. His dirk was lying on his dresser in its elaborate sheath. He had had it specially made so he could wear it in his hair. On impulse, he twisted the queue into a man bun and fastened it in place with the little knife.
Now he looked almost civilized. He took pains tying his black bow tie and fastening his cummerbund. But when he looked in the mirror he was just a big, hulking brute in evening clothes. His barber had trimmed his beard just before he had come home, but it was growing and curling as luxuriantly as a jungle plant, as though the very air of Severn Island enriched it. It looked nothing like his father and brothers’sleek hair and mustaches.
Dinner was indeed a festive occasion. Christina, Ingrid and Mamma were wearing new dresses. Bedecked with jewels, with their blonde hair piled high on their heads, and their lush, womanly figures wrapped up like Christmas presents, they looked like the loveliest specimens of womanhood in Dragonry. The cook had outdone himself tonight with a huge and succulent pork roast and homemade cloudberry relish.
Halfway through his meal, Theo felt an electric tug on one earlobe. His finger brushed a small, warm body. He didn’t know what his elf had done to his ear, but the gentle pulsing sensation there continued even after she flitted away. Unaccountably, his heart soared. Which was ridiculous. She was altogether too pushy, too small, and too exotic. Why should he rejoice that she was back?
The edge of his plate blurred slightly and some of his cloud berries disappeared. His glass of wine lurched and fell over. A crimson stain spread on the spotless white damask. Mamma signaled the server, who covered the wine stain with a clean napkin. No one seemed to notice how lumpy the damask was. Theo picked up the edge. Something small and invisible crawled up his hand and perched on the sleeve of his jacket.
He set his right hand on his lap. His elf reappeared in a blur of purple and gold. She was afflicted either with giggles or she had hiccups. Even though he held quite still, she bounced around like a novice sailor in a high sea. Tiny hands gripped the smooth black fabric of his sleeve and a spider web of wrinkles marred its perfection. He made a note to keep the Princess Alexandra away from claret.
* * *
“The Gulf of Bothnia is four hundred and fifty miles long, Princess,” Theo explained patiently later that evening. “And in places it’s over a hundred and sixty fathoms deep. How could I possibly find one dragon skeleton in all that water? Even if it was in one piece. Which it won’t be. Let alone a single piece of jewelry? It can’t be done.”
“You can do it,” she said airily. “Besides, I will direct you to the exact spot.”
“We haven’t got a chance. I’m sorry, Princess, I truly am. But it’s not even a forlorn hope.”
Alexandra folded her tiny arms across her chest. Her green eyes blazed. “You haven’t even tried,” she complained. “It’s your Quest. What kind of a dragon ignores a Quest?”
Theo leaned back in his armchair, crossed his arms, and stretched his legs out in front of him. He was enjoying himself. She was so indignant, and so cute. Mad as a hatter, of course, but cute as anything. Just being around the princess amused him. How could he convince her? He ambled across to his laptop, booted it up and googled the Gulf of Bothnia.
“What is that?” She was suspicious. She swooped onto the keyboard. Her feet sent the screen into a flurry of changing images. She leapt straight up into the air and hovered, wings beating furiously.
“Um, you can’t stand there, Princess,” he said, trying not to laugh. She perched trembling on his bun, holding on to his dirk to steady herself.
“Is it dragon magic?” Her voice was sharp.
“No. It’s technology.”
“What is this technology? Is it some kind of sorcery?” Her trembling increased.
“I
f it is, it’s white magic. Nothing to be frightened of.” Theo scrolled to the section of the map that showed Severn Island. He tapped the screen with a ballpoint pen. “This is where we are.” He expanded the map and pointed again. “And this is where your tree grew.”
Alexandra had stopped trembling, but now she began vibrating so hard his little dagger shook with the force of her excitement. “There’s my tree,” she cried. “But you cut it down,” she said more doubtfully.
“This photograph was taken some time ago, it shows the past, Princess, not the present.”
“The Pool of Loki is better,” she informed him grandly. “It shows the past, the present and the future.”
“I’m not familiar with the Pool of Loki,” Theo said dryly. “But this map is the best one I’ve got. Can you show me where the dragon fell from the sky?”
“I don’t know,” Princess Alexandra peered down at the screen. Her voice was faint and buzzed with anxiety. “I think you should look at my map.”
She flew down in front of him and stood beside his laptop. A stick shorter than her trident materialized in her little hand. She held it out to him. Theo did not know how to take it without taking her entire arm too. Eventually he laid his palm flat and she placed the minute object on it.
It began to grow before his eyes. Soon it was clearly a tightly rolled scroll wound around an ivory stick with gilded knobs. In a very little while, it was large enough for him to unroll. He laid it flat on his bed, where it gave new meaning to ‘pop-up’. Princess Alexandra stood on his shoulder and squeaked into his ear, as the forests and hills came into high relief.
“This is hard to understand,” she said, “When it’s so cursed big. I don’t know where I am.” She flew down and began to walk gingerly across the map. Her purple and gold dress seemed to be entirely composed of glitter and floss. Her pale limbs winked through the fabric as she clambered uphill and down.
She stumbled and fell. “I can’t find my grove,” she grumbled, fluttering up to his shoulder again.
Theo put his finger down on the little rise that Princess Alexandra’s trees grew on. “This is it, right here.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, sweetheart. I’m good at reading maps.”
“And swimming,” she said. “You wear funny orange colored livery when you go beneath the waves to play with your pets. Carrying drink. You can hold your breath for a long time like the whales. I’ve seen you – many times.”
It took Theo a moment to realize that she thought his dive tanks were some kind of beverage carrier. “It’s a whole new world, Princess, that you’ve woken up in.”
“You needn’t sound so happy about it, Lindorm.”
“What are these little ships here?” With the tip of his pen, Theo tapped the map where squared-sailed vessels bobbed in the blue waves.
“Those are the longships that fought with those of the Snorre the Thief, of course.” Her tone suggested he lacked the brains of the village idiot.
“Of course. And where did Snorre fall to his death?”
“There.” Alexandra pointed with her small trident.
Theo saw that a burgundy dragon struggled on the white frilled waves. The waves swallowed Snorre and spat him out – over and over. A gruesome little animation. His pixie was a bloodthirsty little imp.
“If you’re right, Princess,” he conceded, “I know that spot. I have dived there many times, and the water there is under sixty feet.”
“I know. I have seen you down there,” she said complacently. “You go there to visit your pets.”
“Is that right?” Had this minx been spying on him?
“The Pool of Loki shows all.”
“You had better show me this pool.”
“It’s no good, Dragon,” she said sadly. “The pool is frozen until spring.”
“Ah,” he said. “Water magic.”
“The magic of Loki and of Njord, the god of the oceans,” she corrected him. “I am under their protection.”
“Will any pool of water do?”
“I don’t know. Long ago, my mother gave me a silver bowl that the moon had blessed. I could see the future in that. But I don’t know where that is now.” Her voice was doleful.
“Just a minute.” He left his room and went hunting.
He found a stack of silver-gilt fingerbowls in the dining room. Each one a pixie-sized bathtub. Princess Alexandra was peeking out from behind his pillows when he returned. She zoomed across to the dresser where he placed his find.
“Will this do, Princess?”
She peered over the edge on tiptoe. “There is a dragon on the bottom,” she said warily.
“Just an engraving, Your Highness.”
She reached down to touch the gold outline. The movement overbalanced her and she slid down and sprawled over the prancing dragon on the bottom of the bowl.
“Are you all right, Lexi?” he asked.
“How dare you call me that?” She righted herself.
“Sorry, it slipped out, Highness.”
She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. “My mother used to call me that,” she said faintly.
“Ah.”
Suddenly she was standing on his shoulder again. “It needs water,” she told him briskly.
“Hmm.” He filled the little bowl at his bathroom tap and set it on one of his handkerchiefs. He piled up a couple of paperbacks to make a platform for his diminutive guest to stand on. “Take a look.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Princess Alexandra began to hum over the water. Theo thought he ought to grasp what her murmured words meant, but their sense vanished like smoke on the wind. On the calm surface of the water, images formed and re-formed. He saw a channel where he had often dived. At this hour and season the depths were dark and most creatures slept.
“You see,” she said. Her finger pointed at, but did not touch, the glowing surface of the water.
“I see.”
“My ring lies inside that cave, guarded by your pet.”
“What pet?”
“One of those serpents with many arms,” she said knowledgeably. “I have seen you feed them.”
He realized that she meant octopuses. “They aren’t exactly my pets, Princess. But they are habituated to me, if that is what you mean.”
“You bring them food, Lindorm,” she insisted. “And they follow you about.”
“That’s almost right, Your Highness,” he tried to explain. “Octopuses are very curious and very intelligent. These ones have learned that when I go exploring, I am not hunting. They do hang around me sometimes. But that doesn’t make them tame.”
“The ring of Hrothgar, lies within a cavern guarded by one of these serpents.” Fear made her voice even shriller. “For eight hundred years it has been the plaything of those sea monsters. Can you wrest my treasure from the eight-armed monster who guards it?” She gestured and the perspective of the vision changed.
Theo recognized the rock formation. He had explored it many times. The little caverns and crevices in the glacial till provided many creatures with ideal lairs in which to lurk. These rocks were crusted over with barnacles and other mussels. Fish fed and hid amongst the stones. Seals, sturgeon, and octopuses hunted here.
It was entirely plausible, that after the unfortunate Snorre’s demise, some octopus had found the princess’s jewelry and played with it. But however plausible that scenario was, recovering the ring was not. In the many centuries since it had fallen into the Gulf of Bothnia, the ring had either been buried in silt, or become as encrusted with mollusks and algae as its surroundings.
Lexi was manipulating the images in the bowl, much as he manipulated Google maps. She zeroed in on one small, camouflaged opening. Piles of crab shells and razor clams masked in green algae concealed this entrance from predator and prey alike. But he could make out the pale, anemic mantle of the octopus that guarded it.
Lexi waved her arms again and he could see inside the little cavern as
he could not have done from outside it. The octopus living in it was at the end of her life. Theo knew this meant she was as much as four years old. Before she died, she had one last task to perform: To see her only clutch of eggs hatch.
“You see,” Lexi’s voice buzzed with excitement. “She has decorated her treasure trove with pearls.”
The octopus’s den was festooned with strings of white beads. “They are not pearls, Princess. They are egg sacs. This octopus is guarding her ripening eggs.”
“Eggs?” Lexi’s voice rose in disbelief.
“Why do you think this octopus, out of all of the octopuses in the Gulf of Bothnia, has your ring, Princess?”
“She’s wearing it.”
Theo peered into the bowl. The pearly-gray tentacles of the octopus were spread across the opening of her cave and her mantle blocked it. On her underparts, he could glimpse her black beak. One of her eight arms was circled by a gold band.
“Sometimes it – she slips through it.” Lexi explained. “This one is cleverer than the one before, she’s figured out how to make it get bigger and smaller. The last one left it in a corner most of the time. But this one keeps it close.”
“Back up a little, Princess. Who was Hrothgar? And why do you need his ring?”
“Now is not the time for storytelling, Dragon,” she said imperiously. “Now is the time for you to plan how you will wrest my ring from the sea monster. As for why I want it – it is enough for you to know that it is mine.”
“I know you think you’ve given me enough information, Princess, but I could use up all the air in my tanks before I found the right nook and the right octopus. I’ll have to know more.”
* * *
Her dragon was asleep. Lexi put her hand on his belly and lightly stroked the golden fur that grew between his navel and the darker thicket of his pubes. His muscles contracted pleasingly under her touch. She leaned over and sniffed him. He smelled better and better all the time. He was also much better looking when she too was mortal-sized. It was too bad she could only take this form temporarily. But until he restored the ring of Hrothgar to her, she could not sustain her spell.
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