Silverwitch

by Tamara Grantham

  He gave me a gentle smile. “It wasn’t a complete lie.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “What I said was the truth. My father’s passing made me realize how important it was for me to go back to the beginning, figure out what made the old ways so important. But it wasn’t until you were trapped in the cave with the bloodthorn that I really began to ponder what I believed in. I knew that if I ever got you back, I would never take you for granted. I would do things the way they ought to be done. Losing my father was hard enough, and losing you would have completely broken me. If we’re to be together, I’d prefer if it happened at the right time, the right way.”

  When I looked into his eyes, that icy blue color of a glacier, cold, yet comforting, I knew I could never let him go. “Kull,” I said, cupping his cheek. “I don’t care what Heidel thinks, you’re an honorable man.”

  Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. We turned to find three of Jahr’ad’s men, all dressed in dirty rags and with the same careworn skin as Jahr’ad, entering the room. Behind them, a woman entered. Dark red tattoos in the shapes of rune-like symbols and swirls covered her neck and arms to her wrists. She had a muscular build and a shaved head, and the hardened edge to her eyes made me wonder what sort of life she led in a place like this.

  “My name is Zariah,” she said. “I am Jahr’ad’s consort. He wants you in the main arena. Follow me,” she called to Kull and I as she turned around.

  Zariah led us out of the room and down the hallway. As we made it to the ladder, I heard laughter and loud voices coming from the large inner chamber. When we stepped off the ladder and into the main chamber, we found several wooden tables arranged in the center of the room.

  Jahr’ad and several dozen of his men sat at the tables. Platters of meat rested on the tables in front of them, along with bowls of broth and cups filled with dark liquid. Maveryck and Heidel stood speaking quietly under one of the room’s broad arches. Heidel only gave Kull and I a brief glance as we walked by her, and then she turned away from us both.

  Maveryck walked toward us. He’d washed up and now wore a simple, beige-colored cloak, dark leather pants, and a golden-stitched doublet. He wore his long, dark hair loose down his back, and his piercing, gray eyes were focused intently on us. Despite having crossed the desert and having been swept away in a sandstorm, he had cleaned up so well that he now looked ready to greet royalty.

  “Olive, Kull,” he said with a formal nod to us both. “I’m glad you’ve come.”

  “I’m not sure we had much of a choice,” I said.

  Jahr’ad walked toward us. “Our guests have arrived,” he said with a leering grin as he outstretched his arms. “I am pleased you decided to join us for our evening meal. Maveryck tells me we have the pleasure of dining with Wult royalty. Please, sit and eat, and then we shall discuss why you’ve come.”

  Kull and I both sat at one of the long tables. Heidel joined us but sat a few chairs down from her brother and didn’t make eye contact with him. Above us, I noticed that the dragons no longer flew overhead but were perched on the balconies surrounding us. Jahr’ad, Zariah, and Maveryck sat across from Kull and me. They made small talk for several minutes, and then Jahr’ad turned to Kull.

  “Tell us,” Jahr’ad said, “what news do you bring from the Wult lands? Is the kingdom still unstable without your father as ruler?”

  “Who says it’s unstable?” Kull asked.

  “I do. The trading at Wult outposts has grown increasingly scarce. I can only assume this is because the Wult kingdom is not supporting its outlying villages the same way it did in the past.”

  “Our borders are safe and our people are free. Nothing has changed.”

  “Of course you would say that since you’re the king.” Jahr’ad laughed. “But what does it matter to me? I have no interest in Wults. We separated from that society long ago.” His eyes met mine. “Trading is what I’m interested in.”

  The look of cold calculation in his eyes made a shiver run down my spine, but I met his gaze with equal contempt.

  “What is it you wish to barter?” Jahr’ad asked.

  Maveryck spoke up. “Knowledge,” he said, and then pulled the lotus cube from his cloak and placed it on the table. “This symbol was sent to us as a message from the dragon lady, Silvestra. Should we fail to respond, it could mean the death of someone very powerful. We need to know what this symbol means.”

  Jahr’ad picked up the cube and studied the facet with the golden oval. “This is a lotus cube, made of a black onyx only found in the mines near the western coast in the pixie lands. It’s a rare mineral, and with the magic infused inside, it could fetch a hefty price—that is, if one is able to find a buyer willing to pay it.

  “The symbol is odd. At first, the swirls look random, but I suspect there’s more to it.” He glanced at Maveryck. “Do I have your permission to perform a simple test?”

  “For what purpose?”

  “A spell to divine the meaning of these patterns. I assure you, the stone will remain intact.”

  “Very well, as long as you do not disturb the spell’s meaning.”

  Jahr’ad handed the stone to Zariah. “Use a sun spell and focus it in the center-most pattern. That should do the trick.”

  She took the stone from him and focused on the gold pattern. Her eyes clouded with a red-tinted magic, and then she whispered a word in a low, guttural voice. Her magic repulsed me, making my skin crawl. I’d never felt magic so primitive and vulgar. The emotion it elicited was hard to describe, except the feeling was akin to experiencing violence—a sensation that set my teeth on edge.

  The red magic left her lips and entered the stone. As soon the enchantment connected with the swirling patterns, the golden light coming from the pattern grew brighter and then re-formed, creating words instead of the swirls. But as I glanced at the stone, I found the words written in symbols I’d never seen before. I didn’t know how much good the spell had actually done if we still couldn’t read it.

  She handed the stone back to Jahr’ad.

  “What sort of magic is that?” I asked her.

  “I’m not sure of the proper name, but I call it blood magic,” she answered.

  “How did you discover it?”

  She cocked her head. “I came upon the power many years ago by sapping the energy from a dying magic user. I use a… creative process to obtain it.” She leaned forward. “Would you like me to show you how it works?”

  Snickering came from the men surrounding us.

  “Zariah, leave her alone,” Jahr’ad snapped.

  “I was only jesting.”

  “But our merchant is in no mood for your games,” he said as he turned back to the stone. “This is as I suspected. It’s written in an ancient language known as rhenuroc, some also call it high dragon. Of course, it’s a dead language, so no one reads it anymore, but it’s not uncommon to find it written on stones such as these.”

  “Do you know how to interpret it?” Maveryck asked.

  “Yes, I know what it says.”

  “Will you tell us?” I asked.

  “That depends, doesn’t it? What have you brought to trade?”

  “Trade?” I asked.

  “You are a merchant, aren’t you? Haven’t you brought something to trade?”

  I glanced at Maveryck. “Well, I…”

  “Come now,” Jahr’ad said. “I look forward to seeing the latest trinkets from Delestria. Surely you’ve brought something of value?”

  “I… I haven’t brought much. That is to say…”

  “You’ve come all the way from Delestria and brought nothing to trade? Surely you cannot expect me to believe that. You are a merchant, aren’t you?” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “Or are you?”

  His shrewd gaze made it hard for me to make any kind of answer.

  “Jahr’ad,” Maveryck said, “we are not here to bargain over trinkets.”

  “The
n why are you here?” he asked.

  “We seek to challenge you in the fights. Our champion against yours.”

  Jahr’ad’s eyes lit up. “What’s the wager?”

  “If we win, you tell us the meaning of the stone’s symbol.”

  “And if you lose?”

  “If we lose, then you keep the stone.”

  Jahr’ad frowned. “Not good enough. If you lose, then we keep the stone, plus, the merchant stays with us. Forever.”

  Kull clenched his fists. “I will never agree to that.”

  “Then I will never tell you what’s written on that stone. Besides, you have no say. Did I fail to warn you? When you’re here, you play by my rules.”

  “Your Majesty,” Maveryck said, “perhaps you should first evaluate what challenge is being considered?”

  “I don’t care,” Kull answered. “Whatever it is, I do not accept the terms.”

  “No?” Jahr’ad said. “Would you rather be tied up again? Would you accept those terms?” He laughed. “You should at least hear us out before refusing the wager. With your reputation, I am surprised you are not at least a little interested. We’ve all heard the rumors about you, of course. Remind me again what you’re rumored to have accomplished? Wrestling a jagamoor while tied up? Perhaps we ought to tie you up again and see what happens when you challenge one of my dragons.”

  “Dragons?” I asked.

  “Yes, love. My dragons against one of you. That’s how this game works. Would you like to volunteer?”

  Laughter echoed through the room.

  “She won’t be involved in this,” Kull said.

  “No? That’s a shame. What’s it about that woman anyway that makes you want to protect her? Is she a lover of yours? Is she a good lay?”

  Kull stood abruptly, making his bench fall with a loud clatter to the ground. “Leave her out of this.”

  “Ah, so she does mean something to you. Even better. This just got ever so interesting. There’s nothing more rewarding than taking another man’s woman while he watches. What do you say, Wult? Care to be tied up and watch as I bed your woman?”

  Kull lunged across the table and punched Jahr’ad in the face with a loud smack that could have split the man’s skull. Jahr’ad let out a high-pitched screech as he fell back with his hands clamped over his mouth.

  Jahr’ad’s men surrounded Kull, while others ran to their leader and helped him sit up. When the commotion settled down, Jahr’ad got to his feet as he held a bloody handkerchief to his mouth.

  “Wult bastard.” He spat a mouthful of blood at Kull’s feet. “I should have killed you when you first arrived. Tie him up,” he shouted at his men. “If he fights, throw him to the dragons.”

  Overhead, the dragons beat their wings as they waited on their perches. I glanced up to find them chained to posts. The metal loops clanked as the dragons wrestled with their restraints, looking on us with hungry gazes.

  Jahr’ad rounded on Maveryck. “You should have known better than to bring this man here. What were you thinking?”

  Maveryck threaded his fingers together. His calm aloofness bothered me. “If you do not wish to continue with the bargaining, we will leave.”

  Maveryck took the lotus cube and placed it in his pocket. He stood and turned to leave when Jahr’ad stopped him.

  “Wait,” Jahr’ad said. “I’m not finished with you yet, thief. Stay and fight if that’s what you wish, but I have few demands.”

  Maveryck turned around to face Jahr’ad. “You are in no position to make demands. I am here to negotiate. That is what I do, and that is what I have always done. Do not cross me, Jahr’ad, or my trading with you will come to an end.”

  Jahr’ad fisted his hands. “Fine,” he said after a pause. “We’ll do it your way. My dragon against your man. If I win, I take the box and the girl. If you win, I get the box, and you get information.”

  “And,” Maveryck added, “we are all free to leave in peace?”

  “If your man wins, you shall all leave in peace. If not,” Jahr’ad’s lust-filled gaze flicked to me, “then one of you will not.”

  He had the audacity to smile at me. Gag me with a spoon. The idiot had no idea what a huge mistake he was making. Magic gathered in my chest, pulsing with a rapid heat that begged to be released. I restrained it for now, but if the man so much as touched me, he’d get what was coming to him.

  “Now,” Jahr’ad said, “it’s time for us to choose which dragon will fight the Wult king. This is the fun part. Have you ever witnessed a dragon fight, merchant?”

  “No, I can’t say that I have, considering it’s illegal.”

  “Illegal? Says who? The sky king? That beast is no ruler of ours.” He spat. “In my house, we treat the dragons the way they ought to be handled—as animals. Am I right?”

  He raised his arms, and cheers erupted. The dragons flapped their wings, making the candlelight sputter.

  “Who’s ready for a fight?” he shouted. The cheers grew louder as some of the men moved the tables to the corners of the room.

  Above us, the dragons grew increasingly agitated as their shrieks mingled with the cheers. The noise grew to a fever pitch as Zariah walked to the center of the room. Dust clouds billowed around her, and the thousands of candles seemed to focus on her, like a spotlight on a stage, as she raised her arms.

  Crimson magic gathered around her, spiraling and twisting. It reeked of blood and violence, repulsing me until I felt I would vomit. The dragons grew frantic, their roars turning to a frenzy.

  Zariah’s tattoos glowed as her magic ignited. A rhythmic pulse, like a heartbeat, came from her powers as the magic swirled upward and enveloped the dragons.

  “What is she doing?” Heidel asked Jahr’ad.

  “She’s goading them so they’ll fight. It took us some time to control the dragons. We learned that if the magic was removed from the creatures, they eventually lost their speech and their flight. Without magic, the dragons are just primitive reptiles.”

  “Then how are these dragons able to fly?” Heidel asked.

  “Trial and error on our part. We began breeding the non-magical dragons and noticed that their species adapted at an alarming rate. Using magic to speed up the growth process also helped aid in the adaptation process. After several generations, we were left with smaller, non-magical dragons that can fly. They were also bred to be highly aggressive, which suits our purposes perfectly.”

  Zariah’s magic surrounded the dragons, making them gnash their teeth and twist their necks as they tried to break free from their restraints. With her arms still raised, she slowly backed away and off the floor. As she stepped beside me, she lowered her arms and a red-glowing shield surrounded the inner floor to create a closed arena.

  “Let them loose,” Jahr’ad shouted.

  Sounds of snapping echoed through the domed room as several men unfastened the dragons’ chains. With a violent clash, the dragons attacked one another. I counted six animals altogether, and each one carried scars that marred their flesh. They fought with uncontrolled violence, lashing out as the magic goaded them. Wind brushed my cheeks from the dragons’ beating wings. I fought the urge to vomit as the red magic pulsed around me, forcing the animals into a rage.

  Backing away, I found a spot under an alcove where the magic wouldn’t be so close. Sweat slicked my forehead, and I worked my hands open and closed to combat the magic tingling through my nerve endings. Closing my eyes, I tried to keep a calm mind and take deep breaths to combat the blood magic’s effects.

  “Is something the matter?” Heidel asked.

  I opened my eyes to find her standing next to me. She was talking to me now? I decided to play along. Perhaps she was ready to be reasonable.

  “I’ll be all right once that magic goes away,” I said. “It’s not pleasant to be around.”

  “Hmm, sounds like my brother.” She crossed her arms and leaned on the wall beside me.

&nb
sp; The dragons fought with a wild frenzy that sickened my stomach. What Jahr’ad and his people had done to these dragons was inexcusable. Fan’twar would raze this place in a heartbeat if he knew about it, which was why Maveryck was so set on keeping me from revealing my identity.

  “I wish I would have never come on this journey,” Heidel said. “I knew from the start it was a bad decision.”

  “I’m beginning to agree with you. The only reason I did it was to save my stepfather. Let’s hope we get out of here with the information we need.”

  “And let’s hope we do it while we’re still alive,” Heidel said.

  “Yeah, that would be nice too,” I said.

  “I…” she hesitated. “I apologize for what I said earlier. I know there is no excuse, but I have not felt like myself of late.”

  “It’s okay. I certainly know what it’s like to not feel like yourself.” If only she realized how much I understood.

  Two of the dragons clashed and fell to the ground. One made it back up and flew into the air, while the other remained on the ground. The creature struggled to get up, but even from this distance I could see deep gashes on its neck and hindquarters. Blood dripped from the gaping wounds. The glowing red magic dimmed around the injured dragon, and the beast limped out of the arena and back to its perch.

  “It doesn’t surprise me that my brother chooses to wait to bed you,” she said casually, as if there weren’t a colossal dragon fight happening right before us. “He’s always been honorable to a fault, even if he doesn’t show it. And now, with the weight of the kingdom resting on his shoulders, he wants to do things the right way, even if no one notices.”

  “If that’s the case, then you should know he does forgive you. He would never go back on something as important as that.”

  She shrugged. “I still hate him.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yes. He knows better than to bring up my past, especially with… other things troubling me.” Her gaze focused on Maveryck, who stood nearby, studying her. As soon as their eyes met, they looked away.

  “Will you help me, Olive? I have to know what happened in Earth Kingdom. I hardly feel like myself anymore.”