by Resa Nelson
Astrid pried herself free from them. Fire slapped a playful paw on her foot, pinning Astrid in place. “No!” Astrid said firmly. “Bad dragon! Bad, bad dragon!”
Astrid looked up and smiled to see Komdra approach from the opposite direction.
He spoke, pointing at the ships, the dragons, and Astrid’s friends.
“Hevrick says Komdra insists that everyone who wishes to leave the Northlands must go now,” Lenore said.
Astrid looked at Lenore and the men who gathered around her. “You need to go to a safe place. You should leave.”
“No!” Lenore said. “We all decided to protect the Northlands. We're staying here.”
Randim kept a suspicious eye on the dragons now settling comfortably at Astrid’s feet. “Beamon and Kamella and a few others want to go. Kamella's with child, and this is no place for her.”
Komdra spoke again and gestured emphatically, as if agreeing with Randim even though everyone knew they couldn’t understand each other.
Pointing Starlight's tip at the ground, Randim handed the sword's hilt to Astrid. “Take your sword and stand with us in battle when the Krystrs come.” Randim smiled. “Assuming they can navigate the narrow waters and boulders beneath them without ripping their ships apart.”
Astrid grinned, taking Starlight back. She hesitated and shook her hand at Randim, waiting for a beam to show him his path but the stone failed to produce any light. Satisfied that Randim’s fate remained here in the Northlands, she changed the subject to the question that had been gnawing at her since leaving the Boglands. “I’m looking for Drageen. Have you heard anything of him?”
Randim nodded. “Your brother gathered up some West Islanders and led them here in his ship. Mandulane caught up with him. Killed Drageen. But your brother killed every man on Mandulane’s ship first and left it useless. It’s already sunk to the bottom of the sea.”
Stunned, Astrid stared at Randim, unable to find any words.
CHAPTER 49
Mandulane woke up that morning with a decision already forming in his mind. His Krystr soldiers now secured every corner of the Midlands, which he believed laid the final stone in the path to the Northlands.
One thing at a time, Mandulane believed. Take one country to its conclusion before giving your full attention to another.
He’d already led his men to investigate the dangerous waterways leading to the Southern Coast of the Northlands. Mandulane alone survived their encounter with the Scalding in his dragon ship and what appeared to be escapees. Those escapees most likely came from the Western Islands because they sailed in a stolen Krystr ship, just like Clerk Thomas hoped would happen. Mandulane destroyed the Scalding and took the dragon ship from him. It happened so far from the coast that no one on land could have witnessed what happened.
He sighed.
And the fools at my own camp who are supposed to obey my every word nearly destroyed both the ship and me!
Mandulane forced himself to remember that all ended well. He found safety, along with the dragon-headed ship.
What better way to invade the Northlands than by slipping ashore unnoticed on one of its own ships?
The appearance of the Scaldings’ Northlander ship fooled his own men. When Mandulane sailed it to the Southern coast, wouldn’t the Northlanders assume the ship to be one of their own and welcome it with open arms?
Today was the day. He’d taken time to recuperate from the horrible attack suffered at the hands of his own men. Those who had not fired upon him on that dreadful day witnessed the fate of those who did. After the carnage ended, Mandulane allowed several quiet days for the enormity of his actions to sink into the hearts and minds of those who still lived.
The more time they had to think about what they saw Mandulane do to the men who betrayed him, knowingly or not, the more carefully they’d consider their own actions toward Mandulane in the future.
Meeting his expectation, all of his remaining soldiers now looked upon him with renewed awe and reverence.
Mandulane took his time dressing himself, something he rarely did alone. But today was special, and he wanted to mark the occasion. What better way than spending time by himself and choosing among his greatest treasures?
After considering every piece of clothing he owned, he couldn’t resist the new find from TeaTree: the blue, silken robe with dragons finely embroidered on the dramatically wide sleeves and hem. What could be a more fitting way of arriving upon the shores of the Northlands than shoving their own beloved images in their faces? First they’d see the dragon ship. Later, they’d see dragons on Mandulane’s own clothing.
He chuckled, foreseeing his victory today. His spies reported to him after infiltrating the Northlands in recent days. What they told him gave Mandulane confidence that the battle would be short and swift.
The ground trembled beneath his feet.
He frowned, staring at the ground as if it might somehow attack him.
Stillness.
Mandulane shrugged, returning his attention to his own appearance.
The ground shook again, and this time everything inside his tent trembled. His bed shook like a dog coming in out of the rain. Carefully piled stacks of clothing tumbled. Fearing he might fall, Mandulane sank to his knees, spreading his palms across the ground and feeling it vibrate.
Outside, a woman screamed.
A sound unlike anything Mandulane had heard before filled the air. An enormous, thunderous, screeching sound.
He stumbled outside his tent, greeted by the sight of his soldiers and their women looking skyward in terror.
Mandulane spun in place and followed their gaze.
A whirling dark cloud filled with dirt and debris towered behind the Krystr camp like a column connecting the ground to the sky.
What am I looking at?
Mandulane stared at the dark cloud, stunned by the sight.
The cloud screamed at him, shifting and dancing closer.
Mandulane recognized the danger. “To the ships!” he shouted above the roar. “We must get to the ships and out to sea!”
Mandulane pushed his way through the crowd of panicking women and men and boarded his prized Northlander ship while others rushed to the Midlander ships.
Within minutes, all the vessels escaped to the sea. Mandulane gripped the ship’s railing. He stared at his camp while the cloud destroyed it, throwing tents high into the air, spinning them in circles before flinging them aside. Within minutes, the temporary home Mandulane had known for a good while become an unrecognizable heap of debris.
And the dark cloud that destroyed it hovered at the water’s edge, seeming to watch the ships sail away.
Mandulane swallowed hard.
The dark cloud took the shape of a gigantic dragon, stretching its jaws wide as if to devour Mandulane alive.
CHAPTER 50
Randim said, “Hevrick brought news of your brother. When Drageen’s ship neared the Krystr ship, Hevrick saw your brother jump on board. Hevrick said his ship lagged too far behind to get much of a look. He believes your brother tried to kill Mandulane, but Mandulane killed him instead.”
Astrid stood quietly, not knowing how to feel. Memories of joy from her early childhood when she adored Drageen knifed through her and dug up grief. Memories of endless days in the cage on top of Tower Island made her feel thrilled at the news of his death.
Drageen hurt Astrid. But that happened when he knew rumors of Mandulane and the Krystr soldiers and what they’d done at Limru. Drageen hurt Astrid because he believed that would protect the Northlands.
Astrid turned to Komdra and illustrated with her hands while she spoke. He wouldn’t understand her words, but he might understand her gestures. “Make sure everyone willing to leave goes now. They shouldn’t wait any longer.”
Komdra smiled and used his own gestures to gather up those ready to travel away from the Northlands. He herded them toward the ship. He paused, looking back at Astrid. Komdra gestured to the air surrounding t
hem and then to the dragons.
The dragons raised their heads and looked at him, as if somehow in response.
Astrid couldn’t help but think of Kikita when Komdra gestured to the air, rolling his hands through it.
Turning to her friends, Astrid said, “Are you willing to part with the remaining ships?”
Randim frowned. “Why?”
“What if the people who are leaving tow our last ships out to the channel?” Astrid said, excited by the thoughts rushing through her head. “What if they chop holes to make them sink?”
Lenore paled. “Sink? Why you would have them sink the last ships we have?”
Astrid’s eyes lit up. “You say the only passage to this shore is shallow and narrow. If we sink all our other boats, wouldn’t that create a blockade in the water? If we sink them all, wouldn’t that make it even more difficult for Mandulane to navigate? Maybe even impossible?”
“Mistress Dragonslayer!” Donel cried. “You might be on to something.”
“Catch up with them before they sail, Donel,” Astrid said. “Tell them how to create this blockade.”
Donel nodded and ran off.
Komdra shouted from the ship getting ready to sail.
A strong breeze whipped up.
Suddenly, the dragons sprang up and trotted toward Komdra. Smoke turned his head, his jaw hanging slack in a grin, and seemed to take one last look at Astrid.
They’re leaving with the ship.
Astrid would normally ignore such a peculiar thought, but she felt the truth of it in her gut.
A sudden lump rising in the back of Astrid’s throat surprised her. She hadn’t realized until this moment how fond she’d become of the creatures. Taking a long look at the dragons or lizards or whatever they were, Astrid murmured, “Goodbye, Smoke. Goodbye, Fire. Goodbye, Slag.”
Within minutes they boarded the ship of their own volition, letting Komdra herd them below deck. Their willingness startled Astrid.
“You’re good dragons,” she whispered. “Such good, good dragons.”
Donel trotted back toward Astrid. “I did what you asked, Mistress. I put the bloodstones in the hilts of all our swords and weapons so we could travel safely with them. No one recognized them for what they are.”
Lenore and Randim looked at Astrid in surprise. Lenore pulled a small ax she’d tucked under her belt and stared at the red stone at the bottom of its handle. “Bloodstones!”
Donel grinned at Lenore. “Sorry I couldn’t tell. It’s a secret I been keeping with the Mistress. If we’d crossed paths with the wrong sorts of people and they learned we had bloodstones with us, we could have been killed.” He paused. “And since them alchemists joined us, I’m guessing it’s time we can pry the stones loose and make good use of them.”
“Alchemists?” Astrid didn’t know whether to be delighted or terrified.
Donel nodded. “Sisters. Three of them. They tell us they know you.”
Puzzled, Astrid shook her head. She’d find out soon enough if they were any alchemists she’d met before. For now, she felt happy to be with her friends again. They’d faced many dangers together in the past and survived just fine.
They could face one more.
CHAPTER 51
Happy to have Starlight back in her possession and safely sheathed at her side, Astrid felt as if she’d come home at last. Now standing by a strong fire, she felt grateful for the weight of a hammer in her hand and the satisfaction of striking it against the anvil.
Grateful to stand close to flames and the richness of their heat. Grateful that her hands and arms and body remembered what to do.
The sound of giggling rising and falling with the wind and whipping in from the sea startled her. Astrid turned to see three women approaching, arms linked together.
“There is our young dragonslayer!” Fee called. She used a free hand to pick up the hem of her bright blue dress from where it dragged along the ground, blackening the fabric’s edge.
“Or is she a blacksmith again?” Glee shouted, waving wildly at Astrid.
She stiffened at the sight of the third alchemist: the one who once served her brother Drageen.
“Never you mind about bygones,” the woman said.
“Never you worry,” Glee added. “Because she’s our sister, Bee!”
Perplexed, Astrid took a step away from her anvil and kept a sharp eye on the alchemists while they surrounded her. She pointed her hammer at Glee and then Fee. “You vanished! When the Krystr soldiers attacked your home, you left me there. You let them take me!”
Astrid turned to face the third alchemist. “Bee?” she said, flummoxed. “Is it really ‘Bee’? Like a bumblebee?”
The alchemists exchanged looks of exasperation.
“Sounds just like her brother,” Bee said to her sisters.
“It’s the Scalding blood,” Glee explained.
Fee shrugged. “What can you expect when it’s a Scalding?”
“The Scalding,” Astrid said dryly, “is standing right here.”
The alchemists giggled again.
“And you’re doing a lovely job of plucking those bloodstones out from the weapons,” Glee said, staring with wide-eyed wonder at the gems that Astrid worked free from various weapons.
Remembering the day she’d met Lumpy and Broken Nose, Astrid adjusted her grip on the hammer, ready to use it like a weapon if need be.
“Oh, come now,” Bee said. “If you want your friends to benefit from all the trouble you’ve taken to smuggle the bloodstones here and keep them safe, you do know what must be done.”
Tears.
Astrid remembered the day Bee used onions to force tears she mixed with a crushed bloodstone. Out of habit, she said, “Blacksmiths don’t cry.”
But for the rest of the day, Astrid cried and let the alchemists work their magic with her tears and bloodstones.
“It’s not enough.” Astrid said, noticing the small amount of tears collected in the small bowls held by the alchemists. “It’s pointless.”
“Never you mind that,” Glee said, careful to scoop every bit of liquid from Astrid’s face. “A little goes a long way.”
Fee nodded. “We’ll have everyone cover the tenderest spots: face, neck, arms, perhaps around the knees. Places where a sword might strike.”
One by one, the alchemists cradled their bowls of precious crushed bloodstones and the tears to release their properties. They took the bowls to Astrid’s friends and colleagues, guiding them to apply the concoction on their skin to protect them for many days ahead.
* * *
After Astrid fell asleep that night, she woke up to find herself in her smithery in Guell. Her body shifted into a shape that gave her the larger muscles she needed to work.
She saw Taddeo standing in the smithery yard, staring at her. Taking a step closer, his eyes narrowed. The corners of his mouth curved into a slight smile, and he stared closer at her blacksmithing body. Taddeo asked the question Astrid had come to expect after all the years she’d known him.
“Are you quite well?” His voice lilted in amusement.
“I don’t know,” Astrid said, surprised by her own answer. She took in her surroundings, gazing at her smithery, her cottage, Dragon’s Teeth Field, and Guell in the distance. She knew she’d joined her friends on the Southern coast of the Northlands, far away from Guell. “I don’t understand. What am I doing here?”
Taddeo kept smiling. “At last,” he said, “you have asked the best question.” He cocked his head high and nodded as if he’d performed a great and personal service for her. “And I am the best suited to answer it, for I see many things you do not.”
He nodded again, this time seeming to speak out loud to himself. “The time for answers has come.”
CHAPTER 52
On the far side of the Western Sea, the sound of crashing waves rumbled in the distance. The wind picked up, carrying the stench of rotting seaweed. The insistent cry of gulls rang in the air.
Kil
ling Crow shuddered, surprised by the depth of its chill. Looking up, he noticed the sun hidden behind a bank of clouds. Otherwise, the sky stood clear and bright. He had faith the sun would soon come out again and warm up the day.
Walking through the marsh, tall grass whipped around his shoulders, leaving small cuts on his neck. With every step he paid mind to the ground beneath his feet. Despite the constant presence of standing salt water, he could find dry spots or small rocks here and there to use like stepping stones.
Killing Crow knew tales of other nations throughout the Great Turtle Lands. One of his favorite stories described the lands occupied by the Great Waters Nation to the far south, where the days stayed warm all winter. The Great Waters Nation had so many shores that the ocean seemed to cradle it. Like Killing Crow’s homeland, the Great Waters Nation had marshes, but they covered far more territory, creating majestic swamplands permeated with trees whose branches swept the wet grounds enjoyed by Sister Heron, Brother Frog, and Grandfather Turtle.
But the splendid swamplands of the Great Waters Nation provided a home to an animal that had no desire to live in the cooler climate of Killing Crow’s home.
Dragons lived in the Great Waters Nation, swimming through the temperate streams, sunning themselves on rocks, and hiding among the tall grasses. He’d once heard a tale of a region within the Great Waters Nation known as the Land of the Swamp Dragon.
Killing Crow shuddered with delight at the fright of a monster he would most likely never encounter.
With every step closer to the shore, the ground became more firm beneath Killing Crow’s feet. The tall grass thinned enough to allow him to peek through and scan the endless stretch of wide beach, its sand white and fine and soft to the touch.
Killing Crow paused, and a hard lump formed at the back of his throat. Harsh storms such as the one that swept through last night sometimes changed the appearance of the beach. A storm might shift the sand bars in the shallow waters or leave driftwood at the ocean’s edge. Storms sometimes eroded the nearby cliff formed by a sloping hill of sand entwined with long-reaching roots of tall grass that grew upon it.