Secret of the Dragon

by Margaret Weis

  “Skylan—” Wulfe stuck his head out from the curtain.

  “Shut up!” Skylan yelled.

  A horse screamed, and Skylan swung around to see the wolves converging on Acronis. Two were attacking his horse, who was half crazed with fear. The wolves nipped at the horse’s legs and raked his flanks with their claws.

  The horse bucked and plunged and twisted, striking out with its hooves and kicking with its hind legs. Acronis fought to keep his seat, trying to brace himself with his thighs. More wolves came running to surround the horse. Zahakis and his men were trapped in the alley; the wolf pack was between them and Acronis.

  He heard a sharp cracking sound and turned to see Keeper wrenching loose one of the posts that supported the litter’s canopy. The post snapped off in the ogre’s strong hands. The canopy sagged a little, but did not fall.

  “I’ll guard the young ones,” Keeper said tersely. “You go to the Legate.”

  Skylan looked at Keeper, both of them thinking the same. This was the man who had enslaved them. They had no reason to save his life.

  “He should die by my hand, not in a wolf’s belly,” Skylan muttered and broke into a run, coming up on the wolves from behind.

  Skylan sucked in a lungful of air and bellowed as he ran, “Sword! I need a sword!”

  Zahakis hesitated. But Skylan was close to Acronis and Zahakis was not and, at that moment, the horse reared. Acronis lost his grip and slid off, landing in the midst of the wolves. Zahakis flung his sword through the air.

  The sword landed on the pavement and slid toward Skylan, who grabbed it while he was still on the run. He couldn’t see Acronis, for the furry, heaving mass on top of him, but he could hear his cries. The horse galloped past Skylan, its flanks bloody, eyes wide with terror. The wolves paid no heed to the horse. They were intent upon Acronis, until they heard Skylan roar.

  The lead wolf glanced around. Seeing Skylan, the beast’s eyes flared. The wolves stared at him. Their eyes glinted with a humanlike intelligence that unnerved him. The lead wolf snarled and growled and two of the other wolves broke off the attack on the fallen Acronis to charge at Skylan.

  He caught a glimpse of Acronis, saw him lying unmoving on the pavement, and then the wolves were on him.

  Skylan slashed at the wolves with his sword. At the sight of the gleaming steel, the wolves shrank back, staring at the weapon with hatred in their glittering eyes.

  Fire doesn’t affect them at all, but they are afraid of the sword.

  Skylan didn’t have time to follow where that thought might lead him. Hearing a warning shout, he glanced over his shoulder to see Keeper pointing at a wolf dashing up on him from behind, as another wolf attacked from the front. Skylan yelled and lunged with his sword. The wolf leaped nimbly away. The other wolf jumped on Skylan’s back and bore him to the ground.

  Skylan smelled the stench of rotten meat on its breath. He felt hot breath and burning pain as the wolf sank its teeth in his flesh, trying to clamp its jaws on the back of his neck.

  Skylan fought to heave the beast off him, but the wolf was heavy and he could do nothing but strike frantically and blindly at the wolf’s head with his fist and the sword’s hilt. He could hear snarls and growls. The other wolves were coming in for the kill.

  And then he was bathed in an eerie light and from somewhere close beside him, he heard Wulfe singing. The wolf on Skylan’s back gave a yelp of pain.

  Skylan raised his head. Wulfe stood over him, holding a torch in his hand. Red-hot cinders rained down from sky, landing on the wolves like fiery snowflakes. The wolves howled in pain as the cinders set their fur on fire and burned into their flesh. The wolves snapped at the burning cinders or ran around in panic or rolled around on the ground, trying desperately to put out the fires.

  Wulfe continued singing and waving the flaming torch in the air. A cinder landed on Skylan’s head. He smelled singed hair and quickly brushed it away.

  Zahakis and his men moved in, attacking the wolves, who were now caught between bright steel and magical fire. The wolves gave up the fight and with parting snarls ran off into the night, some of them still smoldering.

  Skylan heaved himself to his feet. The wolf bite hurt worse than a sword thrust. The soldiers were tending to Acronis, trying to staunch the flow of blood from his wounds.

  “I’ll take that now,” said Zahakis, wresting the sword from Skylan’s hand.

  Zahakis hesitated a moment, then gave Skylan a curt nod that might have been gratitude, then thrust the sword into his belt and went to see to Acronis, who was conscious and asking frantically about Chloe. Zahakis assured the Legate his daughter was safe and advised him to lie still. Acronis insisted on seeing for himself and tried to rise. He fell back with a groan and then doubled over, vomiting.

  “I have to talk to you!” Wulfe said urgently, latching hold of Skylan.

  “Later,” said Skylan, stifling a groan.

  “It can’t be later,” said Wulfe. “I can’t stay. Raegar will come for me.”

  “No, he won’t,” said Skylan. “I won’t let him. Not this time.”

  The soldiers were helping Acronis back to the litter. Zahakis stood staring, frowning, at the blood on the pavement. Hearing the boy’s voice, he looked up and seemed to see Wulfe for the first time. Zahakis’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Where the devil did he come from?”

  Wulfe gave a leap, preparing to flee. Skylan grabbed hold of the boy. “He was in the alley. He warned me the wolves were coming.”

  Zahakis’s eyes narrowed. He looked back down the alley, to where the wolves were disappearing into the night.

  “I’ve fought wolves before and I’ve never seen the wolf who wasn’t afraid of fire. Or wolves that pick and choose their victims, let a horse go to get at a man. I’ve never known wolves to come into the city, either, not in the middle of summer when food is plentiful.”

  He looked back at Wulfe. “Skylan said you warned him. What do you know about this?”

  “Nothing,” said Wulfe sullenly.

  Zahakis walked over to Wulfe. He squatted down in front of the boy, looked him in the eyes or tried to. Wulfe ducked his head, his shaggy hair falling over his face.

  “The two men who took you to the Temple looked as though they’d been attacked by a wolf. What do you know about that?”

  Wulfe dug a toe into a crack between the paving stones.

  One of the soldiers shouted at Zahakis and the commander rose to his feet.

  “I’ll want to talk to the boy later,” he told his men. “Take him back to the compound. And see to it that the brat stays out of sight. I don’t want Raegar hauling him off again.”

  Zahakis walked off. One of the soldiers had gone after the Legate’s horse, which had not run far, and brought it back. Zahakis tried to persuade Acronis to ride in the litter, but the Legate angrily refused. His men assisted him onto the horse.

  The soldiers and Keeper lifted up the broken litter with its sagging canopy and bore it off. Zahakis walked beside Acronis, in case he should fall. Skylan and Wulfe joined the procession.

  As they walked past the litter, Chloe drew aside the curtains. Her eyes shone with tears. Her lips quivered and formed the words, “Thank you!”

  “She’s pretty,” said Wulfe. “Like a dryad.”

  “Yes,” said Skylan, “she is.”

  He was nervous, uneasy. He found himself staring hard into every dark alley they passed. When a dog barked, he nearly leaped out of his skin.

  “Those were very strange wolves,” said Skylan.

  “That’s because they weren’t,” said Wulfe.

  “Weren’t what?”

  “Weren’t wolves,” Wulfe said. “I tried to tell you. You wouldn’t listen.”

  “If they’re not wolves, what are they?” Skylan asked the question reluctantly, knowing he was going to hear some wild tale.

  “They are evil fae, bad fae,” said Wulfe in a low voice. “We call them man-beasts. Men who can turn into animals.
Raegar hired them.”

  “Raegar!” Skylan repeated, startled. He gave a snorting laugh of disbelief. “Raegar hired wolves! To do what?”

  “To kill you and him,” said Wulfe, pointing to Acronis. “He hired the man-beasts to kill both of you.”

  Skylan eyed the boy. He remembered how the wolves had been afraid of the sword, not of the fire. He remembered the intelligence in the eyes and how their growls had sounded very much like speech. He remembered how they had drawn off Zahakis and the soldiers and penned them up into the alley. He remembered, too, how Wulfe had told him that his father and his family had been cursed, turned into wolves. He remembered the cinders raining down from the torch Wulfe was holding, remembered the boy’s song.

  “Did those . . . man-beasts of yours kill the guards who were taking you away?” Skylan asked.

  “No,” said Wulfe, and he added softly, after a pause, “I did.”

  CHAPTER

  17

  * * *

  BOOK TWO

  The dawn glimmered in the sky by the time they reached the villa. Lights blazed from the windows. The entire household was roused by the return of their injured master. Slaves rushed about with hot towels and cold, salve and bandages. The physicians were summoned. Chloe was carried off, against her will, to her bed. She refused to go to sleep until she knew her father was going to be all right, and she insisted on sending the physicians to treat Skylan’s wounds.

  The physicians stated that Acronis had suffered no major injuries. He was lucky. His armor had prevented the wolves from tearing out his throat. He had suffered a mild concussion from hitting his head on the pavement, however. He was ordered to rest, but warned not to fall asleep. Slaves were posted at his bedside with orders to rouse him if his eyes closed.

  The physicians then went to examine Skylan, who had been taken to the kitchen along with Wulfe. They gave the boy food, which he ate ravenously. The Cook and her female slaves fussed over Skylan, washing away the blood and cleaning the bites, doing more to aid him than the physicians, who glanced at the wound, told Skylan to pray to Aelon, and left.

  Assured that her father and her champion were both going to survive, Chloe was at last persuaded to sleep.

  Zahakis ordered his men to escort Skylan and the boy back to the slave camp. Before they left, Zahakis tried to talk to Wulfe, who hung his head and shuffled his feet and pretended to have gone deaf and dumb. Zahakis eyed him, then drew Skylan to one side, leaving Wulfe in the custody of the soldiers. The boy was fidgety and uneasy and did not take his eyes from Skylan.

  “What did the kid say to you in the alley?”

  “He warned me the wolves were coming,” Skylan answered.

  Zahakis’s eyes narrowed. “Those wolves were like no wolves I’ve ever seen, Skylan. He knew they were coming, which meant he knows something about them. He’s dangerous. I’ve told you that before.”

  Skylan glanced over at Wulfe. His hair was uncombed and flopped over his face. He was dressed in rags that hung off his thin frame. His eyes darted about. He kept shifting nervously from one bare foot to the other, poised for flight.

  “He’s just a boy,” said Skylan, but he sounded unconvincing, even to himself.

  Zahakis grunted. “He knows what happened this night. Find out what it is.”

  He started to walk off, then turned back and said grimly, “And keep him away from Chloe! She likes him.”

  Skylan was thoughtful as the soldiers escorted him and Wulfe to the compound. His friends were still asleep on board their ship when they arrived, for which blessing Skylan was grateful.

  “We need to talk,” said Skylan, and he took Wulfe into one of the empty tents and sat the boy down on a cot.

  Skylan lit one of the crude lanterns made from a rag dunked into a dish of oil and placed it on the dirt floor. The light wavered in the breeze from the opening in the tent, the oil smoked.

  “I want to know what’s going on,” said Skylan, sitting on the cot opposite. “You warned me the wolves were going to attack us. How did you know—”

  “I’m still hungry,” said Wulfe, interrupting. “Can I have something to eat?”

  Skylan had the feeling the boy was stalling, but Wulfe did look thin and underfed. Skylan brought back food and gave it to Wulfe, who ate ravenously, tearing at the bread with his teeth and swallowing chunks of it whole. Hunger assuaged, Wulfe slowed down, but he kept eating.

  “You’ve wasted enough time,” said Skylan. “Start talking.”

  Wulfe pointed to his mouth that was filled with bread.

  “I can sit here all day,” said Skylan.

  Wulfe sighed and, after a struggle, managed to swallow the large wad of bread.

  “I don’t know where to begin,” he said.

  “How about when the guards took you to the Temple.”

  Wulfe made a face. “Do I have to tell you?”

  “If you want to stay with me, you will.”

  “The guards took me away,” said Wulfe. “I was afraid. I knew they were going to kill me. You knew it, too,” he added, with an accusing glance at Skylan. “You let them take me.”

  Skylan pointed to the tattoo. “I tried to stop them. You saw what happened. Raegar’s god nearly burned off my arm.”

  The thought occurred to him, suddenly, that the god had not tried to stop him from defending himself against the wolves. Strange, if Raegar wanted him dead, why hadn’t Aelon prevented him from fighting? Skylan tucked the thought away, planning to return to it later.

  “Don’t try to change the subject. Obviously you escaped from the guards. How?”

  Wulfe ducked his head. He started to stand up, but Skylan grabbed him and yanked him down. Wulfe flinched. He kept his eyes on the ground.

  “I have something bad inside me. The druids called it a daemon. My daemon tries to make me do bad things. Most of the time I don’t pay any attention to it, but sometimes I do because I like what the daemon says.”

  His voice was soft and mumbling; Skylan had to lean closer to hear him.

  “The daemon told me that the guards were going to kill me,” Wulfe said, barely speaking above a whisper. “The only way to stop them was to kill them first. I was afraid. And so I did.”

  “Did what?” Skylan asked, wanting to hear Wulfe say it.

  The boy looked up at him. “I killed them.”

  “Two grown men, both armed,” said Skylan. “And you killed them. How?”

  “I turned into a man-beast.” Wulfe grinned suddenly, a feral grin that showed all his teeth. “When I did that, they were the ones who were afraid.”

  Skylan’s mouth was dry. He told himself he didn’t believe a word Wulfe said, but the boy’s grin unnerved him.

  Skylan had to moisten his lips to speak. “What happened after . . . ?”

  “I don’t remember,” said Wulfe. He gave a deep sigh. The worst was over and the words spilled out. “I never remember. All I know is that when I woke up I was in a rickety old house. I was covered in blood and tied to a chair. I didn’t know where I was or how I got there and I was frightened. A woman was with me and she said, ‘You’re one of us. Don’t bother to lie. I saw what you did.’ I said I didn’t do anything, but she knew better. She washed the blood off me and when I said I wouldn’t try to go anywhere, because I didn’t have anywhere to go, she untied me and gave me something to eat. I slept for a long, long time. I always sleep a lot . . . after . . .”

  “You’ve done this before,” said Skylan, his throat tight.

  Wulfe nodded his head. “When I was living with the druids.”

  “What about when you were with me in our village?”

  “No!” Wulfe said emphatically. “You were nice to me and the daemon never talked to me. I thought he’d gone away. I guess he didn’t.”

  “You know I don’t believe you,” said Skylan.

  Wulfe shrugged. “I can’t help it. It’s the truth.”

  Skylan considered asking Wulfe to prove his tale by turning into a wolf on th
e spot, but he thought better of it. If the boy did turn into a wolf, Skylan would be forced to believe him. As it was, he could still harbor a tiny sliver of comforting doubt.

  “So you stayed with this woman?”

  “And the man who lived with her. They’re both man-beasts.”

  “I was worried about you,” said Skylan, ignoring that last part. “So was Aylaen. Why didn’t you come back to live with us?”

  Wulfe was quiet a moment. His lip trembled. His eyes filled with tears. “I killed those men. I knew you’d be mad at me.”

  “Torval help me,” Skylan muttered. The sliver of comforting doubt vanished. He believed Wulfe. He couldn’t help but believe him. Raegar was right. Zahakis was right. Wulfe was fae, as he’d claimed. Skylan remembered the boy standing over him, singing an eerie little song, and the cinders from the torch falling like rain. Wulfe was a danger to Skylan and everyone around him. The boy could never be trusted. He should be killed. Skylan gave a deep sigh and reached back to gingerly touch the bite mark.

  “You believe me now, don’t you,” said Wulfe.

  “You don’t give me much goddam choice!” Skylan said angrily. He jumped to his feet and hit his head on the roof of the tent, nearly bringing it down on top of them, frightening Wulfe, who crawled on all fours into a corner. Skylan resumed his seat on the cot.

  “You said Raegar hired these man-beasts. How did you know that?”

  “The man-beasts gather in this tavern in the part of the city down by the river. I was there one day and I saw Raegar, but he didn’t see me. I hid under a table. He seemed to know these people. He said he had another job. He wanted some men killed and he would pay well. He said that the men would be coming back from the palace late in the night. Raegar gave the man-beasts money and said there would be more when the job was done.”

  “If you knew this was going to happen, why didn’t you come warn me?” Skylan demanded.

  “I didn’t know it was you!” Wulfe said defensively. “I couldn’t hear the names. When I did find out you were one of the men they were going to kill, I did come. Only I was too late. The wolves were right behind me.”