“Wait a minute, I’m not so sure about that. Should I take that as a challenge?”
“It’s your pride, not mine. Once I’m healed, and we get the opportunity, I’ll be happy to take you on. Deal?”
“Deal.” We shook hands.
Ansel sat back and looked at me curiously. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, he leaned over, took a handful of my hair and brought it to his face. He inhaled slowly as if he were savoring the aroma of a fine meal only the privileged could know.
“What are you doing?” I moved to my left, pulling my hair away from him.
“I love the smell of your hair. It smells like your dragon.”
I would have to agree with him on the fascinating scent of Eshshah, but I didn’t realize I smelled like her. Nevertheless it was inappropriate for him to be so familiar with me. I hardly knew him.
“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t do that again.”
“My apologies, once more. That was rude of me. It just feels like we’ve known each other for longer than we actually have. Forgive me.” He sounded contrite, but his eyes were smiling.
A bit confused, I nodded and smiled.
“Will you tell me the story of your linking with Eshshah?” he said with true interest.
Thrown off by his request, I asked, “You want to hear how Eshshah and I linked?”
“Yes, I study dragon lore and I love to hear the stories of linkings. I made poor Gallen tell me his so many times when I was a young boy. I see now how hard it must have been for him. But he always obliged whenever I asked.”
“Of course he would, you’re heir to the throne! It’s his duty to serve you, no matter what you ask of him.” He took my admonishment well.
At that moment I understood what he meant when he said it seemed like we had known each other for longer than we had. I found I also felt a kind of bond with him, but we were still practically strangers. He was royalty, yet I was still comfortable to be myself around him. Truthfully, I should be practicing the same respect as Gallen, but conforming to formalities was something I didn’t do well.
I did, however, oblige him and told him of my memorial journey for my mother; the building of my fire ring at the cove with Eshshah’s egg; her hatching; and what I remembered of my dragon fever. It was easy to talk to him. I even told him of our first flight and how I cracked my nose.
He leaned in closer and scrutinized my face. I pulled back — my eyebrows knit in confusion. “You’d never know it,” he observed. “Your nose looks perfect to me.”
My mouth twisted up on one side, and my eyes went wide.
He ignored my reaction and continued. “You probably already know this, but you’re only one of three female riders, and by far, the youngest — male or female — to link.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the ballads.”
“Can I be so bold as to ask to see your linking mark?” he asked.
I wasn’t used to this kind of attention, especially from a male — and it was a bold request. I felt the red rise in my face. But like most people, I enjoyed talking about the things I love — and Eshshah was the love of my life. I hesitated, then decided it wouldn’t be too immodest to bare my arm for him. I had loose sleeves on my tunic so I hiked the right one up to expose my tattoo-like linking mark.
He examined it closely and while lightly tracing parts of it, he explained how it tells a story. “This part here tells your dragon’s name and her properties — this means fire. And right here,” he traced another section, sending chills through me, “is the meaning of your name — water.” He nodded in thought, “Nice combination, fire and water. There’s much more to read, but I’m not really fluent in deciphering all of the information. My aunt is very good at it.”
“That’s what I thought. She studied it for a long time when I finally confided in her.”
I had elevated my injured foot on the table in front of me and absently began to poke at the wrappings.
“This thing is really starting to itch.”
“That’s a good sign,” Ansel said. “It means it’s healing.”
“It’s driving me mad. I’m going to unwrap it. I want to see how it looks.”
“That’s not a good idea, Amáne. You should wait for Eshshah to get back, and the Healer to be in here, too.”
“Why? I just want to see what it looks like, and I can’t scratch it through the wrappings.” I searched for the end of the cloths to start unwinding them.
Ansel sat up straight. “Amáne, I’m serious. Please. Wait for the Healer. She wants to be present when you unwrap your foot.”
An odd suspicion engulfed me, as a sharp twinge of panic rose in my chest. Maybe they couldn’t save my foot. The extra dressings were to hide that fact — and I really only had part of it left!
My eyes narrowed as I glared at him. “What’s wrong with my foot? Why are you trying to keep me from unwrapping it?” My voice rose. I frantically pulled at the cloths.
“Amáne!” Eshshah called from her hunting. “I’m on my way, please wait for me.”
“Why, Eshshah?” I shouted in full panic.
Ansel called out for his aunt as he took a hold of my hands to keep me from unveiling my injury. He didn’t know my strength. In my hysteria to block his efforts, my elbow struck him in the nose. I heard a crack and his blood flowed freely. His hands shot to his face, giving me leave to finish throwing off the wrappings — shamefully ignoring what I had done to him. The cloths fell to the floor and my heart felt like a fist had squeezed it to the bursting point. I went numb as I stared at what had been hidden from me.
A blood-curdling shriek burst from my mouth. “Eshshah! No! What does this mean?”
I desperately scratched at my leg, drawing blood, thinking my nails were enough to remove the linking mark — the perfect image of the black creature from the bowels of the castle — staring at me from my ankle.
My sobs came in great gulps as the Healer rushed into the room and pulled me close. That same moment Eshshah swooshed in.
“What does this mean?” I shouted again, as I pushed away from the Healer. “Am I linked to that creature? I would rather have lost my foot! Eshshah, why didn’t you heal it? Why didn’t you make this hideous mark go away?”
“I’m sorry, Amáne. I couldn’t. We don’t really know what it means. He was a poor attempt to create a dragon. It seems that some of the same properties were probably bred into him.” She was in anguish and truly at a loss for an explanation — she took it as her failure.
Instantly ashamed of my behavior and remorseful for how I’d made her feel, I fought to gain control of my hysteria. She put her head down to my face and breathed her aromatic soothing scent on me as my sobs began to subside.
“Eshshah, I’m the one who should be soothing you for my heartlessness. I’m sorry.” I looked at the Healer and Ansel and asked for their forgiveness, as I wiped the tears from my face.
My eyes rested on Ansel. I gasped as I noted his swollen face and the blood that still flowed from his nose. Mortified at what I had done to him, “Eshshah, can you please help him?” I said out loud.
“No — thank you — I’m okay. Really.” He said and pulled back as Eshshah’s large head lowered down to his face.
“It’s all right, Ansel. She’ll make you feel better. Please, Eshshah, go ahead.” I put my hand on his chest to hold him still as Eshshah put her nose down and breathed her healing warmth on his fracture.
He literally melted back into the couch. The swelling and bruising all but disappeared. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, he placed his hand over mine that rested on his chest. His touch surprised me. I withdrew my hand and looked away to hide my blush.
The Healer had gone for a wet cloth for Ansel. When she handed it to him, the shawl she had thrown in haste around her shoulders slid down her arm. My eyes widened at what I saw on her right shoulder. I made an effort to say something, but nothing would come out of my mouth. She caught my stare and realized her linking mark had b
een revealed.
I jumped to my good foot and saluted her — still no words would come.
She saluted back. “Thank you, Amáne. Yes ... well ... it was time you knew. Please sit down before you damage anything else. Close your mouth and stop staring. At least this time you’re not eating or drinking anything.”
Ansel looked puzzled. I was embarrassed. She sat heavily beside me, suddenly appearing ancient and tired. Her eyes gazed somewhere far away and long ago. They looked so sad.
The realization hit me like a Valaira. “You were Nara. Rider of the late Torin,” I stated in reverence. The Healer was the greatest dragon rider that ever lived. My mother’s friend all my life and I never knew. I took her hand in mine and held it tightly — my inadequate attempt to comfort her.
“The songs say you died with ...” I couldn’t finish my sentence.
“That was what we needed people to believe. Galtero needed to think he’d won. But we were so close.”
The Healer sighed, “As I said before, we sensed Galtero was responsible for the failure of the dragon eggs to hatch. I think he may have recognized our suspicions. One afternoon King Emeric came to me and urgently pressed me to take my sister’s great-granddaughter, Queen Fiala, and the prince, who was just three days old, to safety.” Her eyes rested on Ansel before she continued. “There was treachery under foot, and the king had a premonition that something terrible was about to happen. Fiala, barely well enough to flee, having just given birth, was to be ready to leave after dark.
“That evening, I was in the Royal family’s apartments on my way to Fiala’s chambers when the first blast went off. It was King Emeric’s quarters. I ran to the nursery and grabbed the baby from his nursemaid as the second blast went off. It was Fiala’s chambers. It was too late for my relative and her husband. My only choice was to save the prince. I was barely clear of the apartments when the third blast went off. It was the nursery. That same instant Torin flew in between the blast and myself. He caught the full force in his chest and the baby and I were thrown several yards.
“I rushed back to Torin, but there was no hope for him.” She swallowed hard, her eyes glazed in the memory of that fateful night. “In his death throes he prophesied there would be an egg that would hatch to a female rider in Dorsal before twenty years were completed, and I needed to go there and keep watch — only after that linking would Prince Ansel gain his throne. Torin sealed my fate that I must accept my duty to save Teravinea.” She ended in almost a whisper.
The Healer looked at me with such sorrow in her eyes. My tears matched hers.
She took a deep breath, composed herself and continued, “We went into hiding for about two years. I couldn’t even let the riders know we were alive. Not because I didn’t trust them, but if they were captured and tortured, I couldn’t have Galtero know that the heir lived. I found a wet nurse for the baby and raised him as my own. If it were not for this boy, my nephew, I would surely have gone mad. He reinforced Torin’s plea for me to hold on to the thin thread of my sanity. He gave me hope.” She looked lovingly at Ansel.
“I made the difficult decision to relinquish my care of him to a cousin of mine and her husband who became his foster parents — they had no children of their own. I had work to do for our cause, and Ansel needed a stable home. I came out of hiding and worked to organize the riders that still lived. We vowed to avenge King Emeric’s death and get his son, the true heir, on the throne.”
She closed her eyes, and shook her head slowly, “And now, seventeen years later, when I thought we would soon see the first part of our plan come to fruition, we have lost ground. Galtero is now assured of the fact that Ansel is alive, and he missed his chance to eliminate him. There is no doubt he’ll put higher security on the castle because of what you and Eshshah just accomplished.” Her eyes rested on me. “This will make it more dangerous for you to procure a dragon egg. It means we have to reformulate our plans to get you back inside the castle.”
I felt Ansel tense up beside me. I glanced over at him and his eyes, already full of remorse, were now lit with alarm.
“Wait. You’re saying Amáne has to go back into the castle?”
“Yes, Ansel, we will stay with our original strategy, as we’ve already discussed, which was to send the linked pair to obtain a dragon egg. It is imperative we solve this mystery before we can advance our plans to get you on the throne.” The Healer’s patience had been stretched like a bow string.
“It’s too dangerous to send her back in. Why not send Braonán, or Calder, or Bern?”
I shot an angry glare at him. There was enough tension in the air already, so I held my temper, but not my tongue, “Ansel, this is Eshshah’s and my quest. We are the only linked pair. This is what we have been training for. We’re ready. Don’t forget, we already got in and out of the castle once.” He flinched — I shouldn’t have said that. “We can do it again, I have no doubts.”
Why should it matter to him that Eshshah and I had to go back to the castle to complete our original quest? I was, in truth, a Chosen One — a rider, with a commitment to the Royal line of Drekinn. And Eshshah was of the Royal Line of Dragons, bonded with the Drekinn line. It was our duty to do whatever it took to get Ansel on the throne. I hoped he was not going to be a problem in the carrying out of our mission.
The Healer didn’t address his concern. Looking like she had the weight of Teravinea on her shoulders, she slowly rose from the couch. With a sigh that came from deep within, she said, “I’m tired. I’ll be in the library. I need to speak with Gallen.”
A blanket of depression floated down on Ansel and me as she left the room. We sat in silence for a while. When I finally stole a glance at him, he looked devastated. Without a word, he leaped off the couch, picked up a cup from the table in front of us and hurled it out of the cavern. I heard it shatter on the rocks below. He stormed out and retreated to his chamber. If these doors didn’t glide silently, I’m sure he would have slammed them all the way to his room.
I grabbed the bandages and rewrapped my ankle so I wouldn’t have to be reminded of the mark from the hideous black lizard. Limping over to where Eshshah lay taking in the afternoon rays of the sun, I slumped down in the crook of her neck. My need to be close to her was strong. I fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of fires, explosions and dying dragons.
When I awoke, darkness had fallen. I had missed the sunset. There was no sign of the Healer or Ansel. I whispered “Sitara” to light the shields.
“Do you feel like fishing for me, Eshshah? I should fix something for them to eat.”
Eshshah brought back a large fish, for which I sang a song of thanks for its life. I prepared the fish and some potatoes in the local Dorsal fashion and served up two plates. I hobbled with them down the corridor, balancing them in one hand while I used my walking stick with the other. Entering the library, I found the Healer asleep, slumped across her books and maps that were spread on the table. I didn’t disturb her but left her plate near her.
Limping my way to Ansel’s chamber, I softly called to him before I pushed the door open. I found him sprawled across his bed, but I knew he wasn’t sleeping.
“Ansel, I brought you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“But you have to eat something. It’ll make you feel better.”
“I said I’m not hungry,” he snapped.
“Fine. Then, just starve and wallow in your self pity.” I barked back as I slammed his plate on the small corner table — bits of potato escaped.
He sprung up to a sitting position and in barely restrained fury said, “Is that what you think I’m doing, Amáne? Feeling sorry for myself?”
“Well what do you call it?”
“You don’t get it. This is all my fault.”
“You had nothing to do with your parents joining their ancestors.”
He ignored my statement.
“You had it right when you said I was a stupid rich lord who got himself kidnapped.
”
Now I definitely regretted making that statement. I opened my mouth to finally apologize for my careless words when he cut me off.
“Farvard’s death ... your injuries,” he waved his hand at my ankle, “... the ruin of all the riders’ strategies and planning, including you having to go back into the castle — which I am telling you now I will overrule — are all because of my selfish stupidity.”
Shocked at his statement of overruling our quest, I nonetheless decided not to address it at the moment. He was under enough pressure already, but this was one issue where he wasn’t going to get his way — I would fight it later, not now.
Instead, I agreed, “I guess I don’t get it. Why is all of this your fault? It wasn’t your choice to be abducted.” He heaved a heavy sigh. I could see he needed to share his story, so I lowered myself slowly into one of the chairs at the table. With genuine concern, I coaxed, “Why don’t you just come sit over here and eat? Then you can tell me how it happened and why you think it’s your fault.”
He trudged to the chair opposite me and slumped into it. I pushed the plate toward him and he drew his knife to eat. Instead of spearing pieces to put in his mouth, he just stabbed at the fish and potatoes, scattering them around on the plate. I leaned back in my seat with my arms crossed, trying to be patient while he poked and mutilated his meal. Finally, I was done watching. I yanked the plate away from him.
“Are you going to talk to me or just play with your food all night?”
I barely finished my sentence when he raised his knife and brought it down in fury, burying the point deep in the table. I didn’t feel threatened, but I startled, then cringed at the abuse to the beautiful wood table.
We both watched as the knife quivered back and forth in smaller and smaller arcs until it was still. I looked up and met his eyes. I could see regret for his behavior, and behind that, pain. He pressed his lips together and said nothing.
I stayed silent and waited while he struggled for the right words. Ansel began his story. “My foster parents were good to me. How do you raise a prince that you have to hide from the world? To make sure he is brought up to understand his future role — should he ever get that opportunity — yet at the same time try to protect his identity? They took an impossible task and did the best they could.
Amáne of Teravinea - The Chosen One (The Teravinea Series Book 1) Page 18