The Last Dragon: Book Three

by LeRoy Clary

  “To do what? We don’t need them. People either do what is “right,” or they are punished.”

  I sensed there was more, but he didn’t wish to speak about the subject. However, I felt the need to explain. “A treaty between Kaon and Dire would benefit both. The kingdoms sit beside each other and can help protect from foreign invasion.”

  “Dire would do well to sign such a treaty with other kingdoms to protect itself against Kaon.”

  “Kondor is expanding and threatening to swallow Dire,” I countered. “We need a partner.”

  He emptied his goblet of wine in a single gulp and stood. With a last look at me before storming from the tent, he said, “Kondor is not your enemy.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Damon

  The distant rider that Flier had pointed out rode a small horse similar to ours. They were adapted to the harsh environment, required little feed, and less water. They could carry a rider all day and most of the night. The rider had already crossed our intended path, well to the south of us. He was dressed in long robes much as we were. Since he had first come into view, he increased his distance from us. The rider dwarfed the small horse as he rode as it hard.

  Probably from habit, he checked behind himself and spotted us. He instantly slowed. Most encounters of the same sort in untamed lands required the lone rider to either continue on his course or flee. This one was different. He turned and rode to meet us head-on. His small horse trotted our way, a rarity in the desert. I pulled my sword and swung it in an easy circle above my head, allowing the sunlight to sparkle off the blade with my intricate moves. It was a warning that I was armed and knew how to use my blade.

  The rider never varied. We also continued moving ahead, Flier and me at the front, Anna had switched horses to ride with Avery earlier, and Kendra moved closer to join the two of us in the front.

  She said, “I think that’s the same Kaon Warrior from the Slave-Master who is responsible for your health.”

  It was. As he rode closer, his hands were empty of weapons, but not his waist. The great sword was there, the blade unsheathed as always. We pulled to a stop and waited.

  He called breathlessly as he neared us, “My master sends you his fondest greetings.”

  “Why would he do that?” I asked.

  “He sent ten of us to locate you and give you a message.”

  Avery moved closer to us. “Do you know this man? If not, I should share the reputation he wears.”

  “He is assigned to care for me,” I said, watching the eyes of the warrior and trying not to grin.

  “That task was put aside,” the warrior growled.

  “I never heard that, so I still consider it as the obligation the Slave-Master placed on you. Whatever happens to me will also happen to you. All here are my witnesses. What is your message?”

  He almost laughed at my comment but caught himself as if thinking humor undignified. “My master is entertaining your Princess.”

  The words struck almost like a physical blow. Both relief and fear fought in equal amounts.

  Kendra nudged her horse closer. “Entertaining? Explain.”

  “She is not a prisoner. The Slave-Master and her were sitting in his great-tent with her enjoying the finest of wines when I departed. She is being treated as a royal guest, and the Slave-Master was asking if she would enjoy a game of blocks.”

  Kendra asked, “How did she come to be with him?”

  “She was captured as our men took slaves from the settlements along the river. True, she was trussed and transported as any slave, but as soon as my master discovered who she was, he released her and sent us to locate you.”

  Suspicious, I said, “What was she doing along the river?”

  He grunted, then said, “The story as relayed to me, was that she was in the company of a bounty hunter waiting for the morning ferry to float to Dagger.”

  “What happened to him?” I persisted.

  The Kaon Warrior shrugged. “He would not have made a good slave, so he was not taken. I do not know more but suspect he died.”

  Avery spoke up, “We’re wasting time. Our concern is to rescue the princess and all this other you’re speaking of isn’t relevant.”

  He was right, of course. “Take us to her . . . please,” I said. Adding the please at the end was impromptu, not planned. If I’d have known the response in his eyes and manner, I’d have used the word from the first. His cold, official manner evaporated like morning mist in the spring, to reveal brilliant sunshine.

  He said, “You were right before when you said the task of protecting you has not been lifted. Only friendship is a stronger bond.”

  “We’re friends, now?” I asked as I pulled my reins to the side so my horse would follow his.

  “Not yet.”

  He checked on us often, slowing his horse to match the tired pace of ours. We rode west again, away from Dagger and parallelled the river, although the water remained out of sight. Our drinking gourds were empty, the horses starting to stumble, and the heat of the day sucking what little energy we had when we rode over the top of a hill and found a shallow, green valley.

  At one end, near a small lake, were familiar dirty, brown slave tents. At the other stood a colorful tent with cheerful pennants flying in the soft breeze. We headed for it, grateful it was not more distant, or we may not have reached it without rest.

  We rode warily and weary into the camp of the Slave-Master. I trusted him to a greater extent than was due, but perhaps trust was confused with mutual respect. He wouldn’t hesitate to beat me at a game of chance. The question became how he would treat me when not playing a game.

  The thing about blocks is that like many games of chance, they often reveal the inner thoughts of a person. Is he reckless or conservative? Ambitious or benign? Will he cheat if he believes he can get away with it, or is he honest? Those things and more are there for each player to find out.

  I believed the Slave-Master to be skillful, directed, ruthless, and honest in his ways. Those can conflict under certain circumstances. We were not friends.

  He stood, hands on hips, in the meager shade of a palm. When we pulled up in front of him, he was smiling. “I have your princess as my guest.”

  Avery said, “Name your ransom price.”

  He glowered at Avery, a man unknown to him. “I do not sell my guests. Perhaps you should go inside and reacquaint yourselves.” He turned to a slave standing a few steps away. “Water and feed their horses. Touch or take nothing.”

  The threat was understood by the slave as he came deferentially towards us. As a group, the five of us walked to the tent, the Slave-Master trailing far behind. As I pushed aside the flap, the dim light inside revealed Elizabeth sitting on the dais surrounded by pillows covered in expensive cloth from many kingdoms.

  Two women sat in front of her, lost in intense conversation. She glanced our way and leaped to her feet, running almost before her feet touched the carpets, a cry of relief sounding that brought tears to the eyes of all of us.

  We hugged, shouted, kissed, and danced. Even Avery joined us.

  As we did those things, a thought came to me, *Look at Emma. Look past her.*

  It was Anna, and as I twirled, my eyes landed first on Anna, who smiled wanly, as if happy that we were happy. A half-turn away was Emma. Her brows were slightly furrowed, not exactly showing anger, but there was more. Perhaps fear? At any rate, she was not happy.

  As she concentrated on our celebration and thought nobody was paying attention to her, I saw one of the tent posts behind her. Better put, I saw it through her. The tall post descended to the ground, surrounded by more carpets and pillows, along with a table laden with fruit. My eyes followed the post from the ground to the peak of the tent, despite it being behind her.

  Her image was solid but vaguely transparent as if the maker of the image of the little girl had allowed his concentration to stray. As quickly as I noticed, her image solidified, she smiled at me, and I continued to sp
in in my dance—knowing she had caught me looking.

  I probably had shown surprise in my expression and given myself away. Normally I prided myself on displaying a lack of outward emotion but had slipped, and she caught it. She now knew I suspected her. That meant I would have to act. Soon.

  We eventually sat in a ring on the pillows while I did the honors of pouring the wine. The half-naked servants and guards had disappeared, and the Slave-Master gave us our privacy. We shared our experiences and our stories filled in missing components of how we’d all ended up together in a tent near the center of a Kondor desert, instead of adjoining cabins on the Gallant.

  When all the questions had been asked and answered, there remained more. Kendra said to Elizabeth, “Are you still going to Dagger?”

  “That is my job. How I enter the city is now up to me.”

  “They won’t listen to you,” Kendra said. “They’re the ones who had you captured and intended to drag you into the city during darkness, interrogate you, and kill you. Do you have any doubt about that?”

  *Did you see Emma?*

  I answered Anna silently, *I saw through her. Is that what you meant?*

  *Yes. I’ve been watching for her to get careless.*

  *Good. Now, stop it. You don’t want to let her know you suspect.* I looked her way. Anna frowned back.

  She filled my mind with her anger. *She already knows.*

  Elizabeth said, “I’m thinking about a change in plans . . .”

  I interrupted rudely before she said things in front of Emma that went directly into the plans of the mage behind the apparition. “I’m hungry. Starving. Can we get some food and talk about this later?”

  All eyes turned to me. Kendra and Avery knew I’d never spoken out of turn in such a manner that contradicted my princess, and their shock was clear. Anna was nodding her agreement. However, it was Emma that drew my attention. Her face was one of pure hate.

  Suddenly, I realized she hadn’t spoken out loud in at least two days. Her image had slipped a while ago, as well as revealing unintended expressions. Whoever controlled her was tired or distracted.

  “Food,” I called to whatever servants were close enough to hear me. Emma faced me, and I wanted to change that. She watched me as I watched her.

  A servant rushed up to us. I stood as if to specify what we wished to eat, as managed to maneuver her a few steps back as we talked until I stood beside Emma. When the servant rushed off to get our meal, I turned around and sat, as if by accident beside Emma.

  We were sitting next to each other, but I was slightly behind and to her left, intentionally. While I’d seen through her image and believed all that Anna told me, I was not convinced. I “thought” I’d looked through her as with the Blue Woman, but what if my previous experiences were influencing what I saw? The simple fact was that such an innocent waif of a girl who looked like me and was in similar circumstances of living without parents pulled at me one way, while my mind and evidence pulled another. I needed a final scrap of evidence and intended to watch her eat—or not.

  It was a small thing, but one I focused on and almost clung to as final proof. Failing to eat would convince me of her guilt. Eating would cause me to question it all. The conversation had turned to more benign subjects, and even a little laughter erupted now and then. I kept my eyes away from Emma, not wanting to warn her any more than I had, which was nearly an impossible task. I wanted and needed to watch her when the food came.

  She was smarter than me. Without warning, she placed her arms over her stomach and groaned loudly as if in pain. She rocked and cried out as if a wave of pain had struck her. She fell to her side as Kendra and Elizabeth competed to identify what was wrong with her.

  *She’d faking,* Anna told me.

  *I know. She caught me looking through her.*

  *She will kill you for that.*

  Anna was right, and I knew it, but with a wailing child in pain so near, how could I explain? Who would listen?

  While I tried to decide what to do, Anna stood. She shouted, “Get away from her!”

  Kendra turned to Anna, confused. Conversation stilled, but the moaning rose in volume. Kendra turned back to care for Emma.

  Anna snapped, “I told you to get away from her. She is not my sister. She is a mage in disguise.”

  Kendra’s hands pulled back from Emma as if the girl had turned into hot coals. Elizabeth was slower to respond but followed Kendra’s lead.

  Anna pointed at Emma. “You were never my sister until the storm. You pretend, but I know you were never there. The dragon was not obeying you. It does not like you. It stays away when you are near us because it senses what you are.”

  Kendra was shaking her head.

  Anna was not to be dissuaded. “Call it to us, Kendra. Try to get that thing to go near her. Or it. The dragon knows, and so do I. That’s why she struck Damon’s mind so hard he almost died. It is not a little girl. It is a mage stealing all you talk about and using it against you.”

  I said, “She’s right. Emma is like the Blue Woman only a better image and more powerful. A stronger mage than the one controlling the Blue Woman is watching and listening to everything we do and say.”

  All eyes were in Emma.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Princess Elizabeth

  Damon and Anna’s revelation about the little girl they called Emma took all of us by surprise. For myself, I hadn’t interfaced with them on the ship. I’d seen them when I left my cabin but had only spoken to Kendra one time in private.

  I didn’t know if I could believe their accusations. The story was so strange and wild. Even as I tried to sort things in my mind, the child at my side cried out for my help. She looked so much like Kendra had when I’d first found them in the streets outside Crestfallen ten years ago, a thin waif of a child with the features of Kondor instead of Dire. The memory was fresh in my mind.

  However, as Damon spoke, the cries and moaning of the child suddenly ceased. The girl sat up and looked at Damon in an evil way that sent shivers of fear through me.

  She pointed a wavering finger at him. Her voice, when it came was that of a young man, not a small girl. “You will die. You will all die.”

  The image of Emma stretched and elongated until her arms became snakes. Fangs dripping poison grew where her fingers should be, her legs became those of a furred animal, and the torso massive and the head was swollen. What had been Emma stood above us a full head taller. Her eyes flared, and tiny flames licked within them.

  “What do you want?” Anna shouted, advancing on the apparition without fear.

  Emma ignored her and turned to Kendra. “Turn your dragon away. It cannot harm me, and I know it is almost here.”

  My sister didn’t respond—but she didn’t agree either.

  The creature in front of us was an abomination, a mixture of what we’d known as Emma and a dozen other creatures; all rolled into one frightening mass of glowing energy that towered over us. It emitted a sour smell that stung our nostrils and generated heat like a small sun. Claws emerged from the heads of the snake arms.

  Anna stepped between Emma and us. “It’s not real. She’s making us think we smell and feel the heat, but even the claws are not real. Emma is inside our heads but can’t touch our bodies.”

  As if to prove her point, she reached out as if to slap the image and her hand passed right through as if it was smoke. The image remained in the same threatening pose, but Anna was not finished. She leaped ahead, into the body of the thing. They merged as Anna waved her arms and shouted, “It is not real. Don’t believe it.”

  A disturbance to my left drew fleeting attention. The Slave-Master followed by three huge guards raced into the tent and pulled to a halt at the sight. All carried weapons useless to fight an image made of light and our imaginations. All had abject expressions of fear on their faces but were not going to hesitate to attack.

  When Anna stepped out of the creature and into the light, they froze as still as spri
ng flowers during the last hard frost of winter. Damon held up a restraining hand, and they remained at a distance, and from what I saw, were grateful for the order.

  The thing in front of us growled, then the edges singed and began to burn, curling like burning pages of paper. Flames leaped so high they looked ready to burn the roof of the tent, but there was no heat. They were images made to scare us—and they did. As a group, we all drew back from them and listened to the cruel laughter that erupted before the entire apparition dissolved and disappeared in a flash of orange light.

  We stood in fear and shock until the Slave-Master strode our way. His eyes were wide, his gait wobbly. He paused a few steps to one side of us and said, “Princess Elizabeth, I’d appreciate it if you left your uninvited guests at home in the future.”

  I giggled at the absurdity of his accusation.

  The others made half-hearted attempts to laugh, and all failed. The stink of fear filled the room. The Slave-Master turned and shouted at his servants, “Where is the feast I ordered?”

  Feet pounded as they ran to fulfill his order. More servants entered, each carrying a tray of food. We sat when he ordered us to, and plates were handed to each. Not a word was said. It was the eeriest beginning of a meal I’d ever attended—and I was far too upset to eat.

  Kendra finally asked the rest of us, “Emma was not real?”

  “No,” Anna said firmly. “I couldn’t remember her before the storm where you rescued us. Me. She was unreal from the beginning.”

  Kendra turned to Damon. “You knew?”

  “Only recently.”

  “You didn’t tell us?”

  “I wanted to do it privately, and to watch for her to betray herself, or it. Try to see what she wanted of us.”

  I understood Damon’s intentions, but to my knowledge, Kendra had never been so angry with him. To smooth over things so we could all speak, I said, “Eat. We’ll all have our chance to talk.”

  The Slave-Master had accepted a plate and settled himself at my side as if invited. My first instinct was to send him away. But my better sense overruled that thought. It was his tent and food, and we were accepting his hospitality. “Please join us.”