by Resa Nelson
The shipbuilders had painstakingly curved long wooden planks to form the sides of the ship. But it creaked and cracked and moaned while the men above scampered like rats, manning the oars and unfurling the enormous square sail. Sometimes Astrid thought she saw the planks move slightly in and out, as if the ship were breathing. She gripped the edge of her bench, closing her eyes briefly. She willed herself not to be sick.
Since leaving Guell with the baby lizards, Astrid had learned how to tell when they were sleeping, even when tucked inside the cloth wrapped around her chest. Fortunately, they slept most of the time. She could feel the steady rhythmic breath of each one and sank slowly to her knees to keep from waking them.
Margreet whimpered, curled up on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees.
Astrid’s anger bubbled equally at Margreet and Vinchi. If it hadn’t been for Margreet, Astrid might have already convinced Vinchi to give Starlight back to her, and she’d be on her way home to Guell right now. “Quiet,” Astrid said. “You’re not making this pleasant for either of us.”
Margreet didn’t answer, so Astrid touched her shoulder.
Jerking away from Astrid’s hand, Margreet looked up. Her eyelids had turned blue from bruising, her cheeks flushed, and her lips were red with blood. She held her hands up between herself and Astrid, ready to protect herself from another beating.
Astrid’s heart sank. How could any man treat a woman this way? How could Margreet’s husband love her and lay anything but a tender hand upon her?
Astrid lowered herself to the floor. The handle of her ax tucked back under her belt clattered.
Again, Margreet jerked, scooting away from Astrid.
Determined to calm the woman, Astrid pulled her new dagger, Falling Star, from her belt. “See how pretty it is?” Astrid breathed on the blade, smiling to see its pattern emerge.
Margreet caught her breath, leaning forward a bit to stare at the dagger. She spoke, and her voice rose as if asking a question. She pointed at Astrid.
Taking her best guess at what Margreet might be asking, Astrid said, “I stopped your husband from killing you.”
Margreet sat up straighter, talking more rapidly and pointing to herself.
Astrid squinted as if that might help her understand this foreign language, but it only made her head hurt. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”
Placing her hands on her hips, Margreet took on the same fiery tone she’d used with her husband, spouting what seemed like an endless argument.
Astrid sensed the baby lizards stir within the cloth bound around her chest.
Margreet’s raised voice had stirred them from their slumber.
Astrid realized her cloak had fallen behind the bench. If she could grab it in time, she might be able to keep them hidden.
Smoke poked his head out, yawning happily.
Margreet stopped in mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open as she gawked at the lizard.
Fire wriggled out of his hiding place, flopping his tiny feet over the edge of the cloth and snapping at the air.
Astrid recognized the same word Margreet’s husband had uttered before passing out. “Dragone!” Margreet shouted, pointing at Smoke and Fire.
Then she began screaming like a woman being murdered.
CHAPTER 22
Astrid leaned forward with the thought of calming Margreet’s screams. But the cloth that circled around Astrid’s body in one long strip loosened enough so that all three of the baby lizards tumbled onto the floor.
Above, hurried footsteps pounded across the deck and down the stairs.
Shaking in terror, Margreet shrieked louder. She hopped on top of the bench, kneeling and splaying her hands on its surface to steady herself against the ship’s pitch.
The lizards scampered for the nearest hiding place, disappearing behind the wide barrels lining the sides of the ship.
Vinchi ran down the stairs, his eyebrows drawn together in worry. He shouted a question to Margreet, rushing to her side.
In response, Margreet pointed first at Astrid and then at the barrels, spouting her answer.
Astrid tensed, recognizing the one word of Margreet’s language that she’d already come to understand.
Vinchi stood still for a moment, his eyes glazed in confusion. He asked another question, shorter this time.
Margreet sat up on her knees and pounded a fist into the open palm of her other hand. Her voice rang strong and defiant.
Crossing his arms, Vinchi turned toward Astrid. “Tiny dragons?”
Astrid laughed, feigning surprise.
Margreet’s eyes blazed. She uttered an angry rant, jabbing an accusing finger at Astrid.
Astrid shrugged, keeping her attention on Vinchi. “Do you see any dragons?” she said.
Vinchi interrupted the still ranting Margreet.
Margreet caught her breath, inhaling quickly and holding it, while she listened to Vinchi. Shaking her head insistently, she gestured toward the barrels. Margreet stood on the floor and illustrated her point by lying on the floor and repeating everything she’d done once she’d seen the baby lizards, from pointing and screaming at Astrid to jumping on top of the bench.
Margreet and Vinchi turned to Astrid, seemingly waiting for an explanation.
Astrid shrugged again. “If you can find a dragon on this ship, I’d be very interested in seeing it.” She spoke with the same tone she’d use to calm a frightened child.
Margreet tossed her hands up toward the ceiling and rolled her eyes in disbelief.
Vinchi walked a thorough sweep, approaching each barrel with caution and jumping every time a wooden floorboard creaked under his feet. Finally, he spoke to Margreet with an apologetic tone.
Margreet shook her head, her lips pressed together in disappointment. She cast an accusing glance at Astrid.
“Don’t forget she was struck in the head,” Astrid said helpfully. “Sometimes people get confused after they get hit in the head.”
Margreet turned to Vinchi, tapping her foot expectantly.
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
Margreet cleared her throat.
Vinchi spoke to Margreet, gesturing toward her with one hand and Astrid with the other.
Margreet responded by brushing past him and stomping up the stairs toward the deck.
“What did you say?” Astrid asked, surprised at how timid her own voice sounded.
“I told her it’s between the two of you to resolve your differences.”
Astrid nodded, relieved that the baby lizards—or baby dragons—had found safety. Once Vinchi followed Margreet up to the deck, Astrid might have the opportunity to coax them back to her.
“Thank you for helping her,” Vinchi said. He gazed at the stairs for a long moment before turning back to Astrid. “Most of the men I’d hired came with us, and we’ll plan our next step once we land at a Midland port.” He hesitated. “Say, what’s your name?”
Astrid’s thoughts raced. She wore a man’s clothing as well as cropped hair, and Lumpy had advised her to let people assume she was a boy. “I’m Ran—”
No!
Randim might be well enough known in the Northlands that I shouldn’t use his name.
“…Donel.”
“Ran…Donel?” Vinchi said slowly, sounding as surprised as if she’d told him she could dance on the moon.
“Yes,” Astrid said, drawing herself to stand tall in confidence. “My name is Randonel.”
Vinchi smiled. “I think not. I recognize you from everything I’ve been told. You are Astrid, the Iron Maiden.”
CHAPTER 23
“Tired,” Norah said with a heavy sigh. She sank into the dried brown grass, crunchy with early morning frost. She gazed up at the sun that skimmed the mountaintops surrounding them.
Winter approached, and daylight grew shorter every day along with the sun’s path. Before long, the days would be full of night, and the sun would only dare to skim above the southern horizon for a short t
ime each day.
Wendill had been walking well ahead of her on the path snaking through the mountains. He seemed to be full of unending energy. Norah supposed that at the time he’d been trapped inside the rocky outcrop of Dragon’s Head Point his energy had wound up tight and now he finally had a chance to use it. When he chose to take the form of a man, Wendill adopted a small stature that made him barely taller than Norah and almost as slender. His close-cropped hair was as black as fertile soil. His nose and cheekbones and chin were so sharp that Norah wondered if he’d kept the same rocky shape his face had taken since he’d been entrapped on Dragon’s Head Point.
But what surprised Norah most was the strangeness of his skin, which looked like pale brown leaves after they’d fallen and been worn thin and brittle by the harshness of winter. Norah didn’t dare touch him for fear his skin might fall apart.
“You and Taddeo—you come from the realm of water,” Wendill stated. “It would be easier for you if we traveled by sea rather than across land.”
Norah shrugged. Months ago, she assumed she had rid herself of the Scaldings forever, but Taddeo had swooped her out into the sea. Without thinking, she’d changed into her dragon form, following Taddeo’s lead and swimming next to him.
What happened after that baffled Norah. Her body had burst, transforming from the body of a dragon into drops of water, somehow separate from all the other water in the sea. Again, following Taddeo’s lead, she remembered rising like mist above a ship that bore the Scalding sister and brother. She remembered carrying that ship to Dragon’s Head Point, where the Scalding brother had been sacrificed, therefore setting Wendill free to emerge from the rock and dive into the ocean below.
“You swim,” Norah said. “I saw.”
“That’s right. I can swim, although not as well as you.”
Wendill spoke with a soft and gentle voice, even more so than Taddeo. Although they’d been traveling together for only a few days, Norah noticed her new boldness. She drew up her courage and asked the question she’d been pondering from the beginning of their journey. “Why walk?”
“Although I can swim, I’m not of the water, like you and Taddeo.” Wendill ran his hand through the crunchy brown grass between them as if running his hand through his own hair. “My kin is of the earth. I accepted entrapment in the rock because it was no more painful than being entrapped in a lover’s arms.” He paused and gazed up at the low-hanging sun. “But I missed the sky. It is time for us both to stretch our legs and remember who we are.”
Norah didn’t dare tell him that she’d never known who she was, leaving her nothing to remember. Taddeo had entrusted her with an important mission, emphasizing that this dragon Wendill represented the key to their kind. As Taddeo had explained, if Wendill didn’t drink from the Dragon’s Well and heal from his entrapment, then all dragons would suffer.
Wendill wore a cloth pouch on his belt, and he now reached into it, withdrawing a handful of berries.
He offered some to Norah, but she shook her head to refuse them. She’d happily eaten fish given to her by dragons, but guilt had gnawed at her since she’d left the dragon stronghold. Eating now seemed wrong, so she’d stopped doing it. She’d grown used to ignoring the hunger that ate away at her belly. Norah had already caused too much harm to too many living things. Berries were living things and deserved to stay alive. She would not contribute to the death of any more living things, even if they were nothing but berries.
“It is important to eat,” Wendill said. “It is how we stay alive.” Norah ignored him, so Wendill ate the berries himself. “It is part of who we are and why we are here among other living things.”
Norah looked away. If being alive meant harming other creatures, then she wanted none of it.
“I need you to stay strong,” Wendill said. “How else can you guide me to our destination? How can I drink from the Dragon’s Well if you don’t lead me to it?”
Norah felt the weight of the survival of all dragons depending upon her every decision. And Wendill spoke the truth. She had to keep herself strong and alive until she had fulfilled her duty of delivering him to the Dragon’s Well and watching him drink his fill from it.
Reluctantly, Norah accepted the berries into her own hands, silently apologizing to each individual fruit as she consumed it.
CHAPTER 24
“The Iron Maiden?” Astrid said, her eyes unfocused as she looked at Vinchi.
He smiled, casting a knowing glance down the length of Astrid’s body and up again. “I knew it was you!” He paused. “But no one told me about your scars or that you lost an arm.” Vinchi reached for her cropped hair. “Or about you being punished. What did you do to deserve this?”
Astrid smacked his hand away before he could touch her.
Vinchi pulled his hand back. His eyebrows arched in surprise. “I retract the question.”
“Keep your hands to yourself.” Astrid’s voice rang sharp and clear. The man who had bought her and taken her as his apprentice—Temple—had warned Astrid about men who dared to become familiar with women too easily and too quickly. Temple had taught her that in the same way she needed to treat others with kindness and respect, she deserved to be treated the same way—especially by men. Astrid took Vinchi’s casual attempt to touch her hair as even more proof that his intentions were no good when it came to women.
Vinchi shrugged. “I merely meant to help.”
Astrid shook her head and crossed her arms in disbelief. Honestly. This man acted more brash and bold than anyone she’d met in quite a long time. “Why did you call me the Iron Maiden?”
“Merchants talk. DiStephan traveled with many of us during the time that dragons migrate. He told us about you. Everyone knows you as the maker of Starlight and his other weapons. You’re a blacksmith. An ironworker. What better name to call you than the Iron Maiden?”
“‘Astrid’ is fine,” she said dryly.
“But ‘the Iron Maiden’ has spark and fire. It strikes fear into the hearts of anyone who might be foolish enough to stand in the way of a dragonslayer. From the way DiStephan always spoke of you, it fits.”
“Then you should honor what he would want and give Starlight back to me.”
Vinchi frowned and acted offended. “How do you know he wouldn’t want me to have it?”
“Because I’m the dragonslayer. If you won’t give it back to me like an honorable man, I should take it from you.”
“Steal like a common brigand? Or would you prefer to murder me in my sleep like a barbarian?”
Astrid felt as if she’d been slapped. “Of course not. I’m neither a thief nor a murderer.”
“Fine. Then you will accept that Starlight is mine.”
Astrid took a long look at Vinchi. He spoke rapidly, like a child caught in a naughty act. She suspected he told lies the moment they came to mind.
But she did like the idea of striking fear into the hearts of dangerous people. Especially someone like Margreet’s husband. “Why did they fight?” Astrid nodded at the stairs Margreet had climbed to the deck above.
Vinchi looked down and his voice softened. “Margreet accused Gershon of being with another woman. He denied it. Margreet claimed that she herself would make a better husband, so she should be the one to wear the pants in the family.”
Astrid smiled. Good for Margreet. Astrid liked people who spoke their minds.
“He challenged her to a fight—whoever won would be the husband in their marriage and wear the pants.” Vinchi took a deep breath, but when he spoke again, his voice cracked. “And she was foolish enough to take him up on his challenge.”
He cared for the woman. Despite his mischievous ways toward women, Vinchi seemed to have genuine feelings for Margreet.
“Is she your sister?”
Vinchi shook his head. “I only met her after they married, several years ago. Everyone knew this day would come. Margreet and Gershon fight all the time. No one likes the way he treats her, but—” Vinchi shrugged ag
ain. “What can you do?”
“What you’ve already done. Take her away from him.”
Trembling, Vinchi sank to the bench before his legs gave out beneath him. “He’ll come after us,” he said, staring into empty space. “He’ll kill us—and her, too.”
“I’ve faced worse,” Astrid said, touching the handle of the ax tucked under her belt. “Dragons are bigger and stronger and faster than Gershon.”
“But he’s right to come after us. And I was wrong to take her.”
Astonished, Astrid said, “Why?”
Vinchi looked up at her. “Because Margreet is his wife. And being his wife means that she is his property. I’ve stolen Gershon’s property away from him, which makes me a common thief.”
“Nonsense,” Astrid snorted. “No man should treat his wife that way. Not unless he bought her as a slave. And that still makes no sense—if a man marries a slave, she becomes a free woman. And no man has the right to treat a free woman that way.”
“You don’t understand. This isn’t Scalding territory. Different territories and countries have different customs.”
Astrid laughed with a chilly undertone. “Tower Island is the harshest, cruelest place in the world. Don’t you know what they did to me?”
“Yes,” Vinchi said quietly. “DiStephan told me. He admired your courage. But the Scaldings control much of the Northlands, including the Far North and Guell, and all of them are known to be the best and safest places for women to live.”
“Guell?” Astrid said. “Guell isn’t Scalding territory. It’s—” She paused, realizing she’d always assumed Guell stood alone because of its proximity to Dragon’s Head. She considered Guell home, but most people perceived it as one of the most dangerous places in the world. She’d always assumed everyone who had lived there owned the land equally—but now she recognized she’d made the wrong assumption.