In the Shadow of the Dragon King

by J. Keller Ford

  Lady Emelia rinsed a rag and placed the wet cloth on the doomed patient’s forehead. She turned, her red, swollen eyes meeting Eric’s gaze. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She walked toward him, fidgeting with the handkerchief in her hands.

  “You’re awake,” she said with a forced smile. “Here,” she picked up a goblet from the table beside his bed. “Drink this. It will help with the pain.”

  Her hands shook. The liquid sloshed over the edge.

  “My lady.” Eric winced and pushed himself up. He took the cup from her and set it on the table. “What is wrong? Why are you crying?”

  Emelia looked away, her chest rising and falling with her sobs. “I’m sorry, Eric. I’m so sorry.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders heaving.

  “Sorry for what?”

  Her eyes met his, the tears falling like summer rain. “It’s Sestian. The surgeon tried everything—”

  The words hammered a hole in Eric’s chest.

  “Move,” he said, shoving her aside.

  “Eric, you can’t get up.”

  “Get out of my way!”

  He slid out of bed and stumbled across the room.

  His insides rattled. His limbs trembled. This couldn’t be happening. There had to be a mistake.

  The surgeon yelled for him to return to bed.

  Eric ignored the shouts, as well as the pain slashing through his shoulder and back, intensifying with each step. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

  “Ses.” He reached the bed.

  His friend groaned and turned his head. “Eric.”

  His whispered name shuddered through his entire existence. Eric’s stomach roiled. Vomit rose in his throat. He looked up at the ceiling and blinked, blinked, blinked.

  Emelia’s hand rested on his shoulder. He flinched and turned his head, trying to find someplace to look other than at his friend. He breathed deep, pretending not to feel the pain caught in his chest.

  “Eric,” Sestian whispered again. “Did you see him?” His voice trailed off. “Did you see the dragon?”

  Eric looked down at his friend’s burnt, blistered face, the layers of bandages wrapped around the stub of his left arm. His limbs trembled and his knees buckled. He reached for a chair and sat down. Taking Sestian’s right hand into his, he nodded. “Yes. I saw him.”

  Sestian smiled, and Eric was sure he heard a slight chuckle. “He. Was. So. Big.”

  Sestian’s face contorted, and he groaned. “I stabbed him, you know.”

  Eric propped his elbows on the bed at Sestian’s side, his friend’s hand clutched in his own. He closed his eyes and focused on the beating of his heart slamming against his chest, the sharp breaths he fought to control. He couldn’t lose his best friend. He just couldn’t.

  “What’s wrong with him, Emelia?” Eric asked, tears dripping down his hands to his wrists. “How long before he is better?”

  “It’s his insides,” she said. “The surgeon did everything he could, but he couldn’t stop the bleeding.” A tear slid down her cheek.

  She placed another wet rag on Sestian’s face.

  Eric swallowed hard. Tears fell. He covered his face with his hands and tried to think of something to keep from fraying and falling apart, to keep from reliving every moment of insanity they’d shared together.

  “Eric,” Sestian whispered.

  Eric wiped the snot from his nose with the back of his hand. “What, Ses?”

  “Don’t forget about our quest. Promise.”

  Eric wiped his face. “I promise, Ses, but you have to promise me you’ll get better.” He looked up to find Sestian’s eyes shut, his features caught in an expression of pain.

  “Can’t do. You know how I am about making promises I can’t keep.”

  “Ses, please.” Eric fought the hole swallowing his heart. “Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave.”

  Sestian presented a weak smile. “It’s okay, Eric. No regrets, right?”

  Eric clasped Sestian’s hand hard, his sobs ready to burst forth from his gut. He shook his head. “No regrets, Ses.”

  Sestian closed his eyes. “I’ll be watching you.”

  Then, in a quiet whisper, he was gone.

  Eric shook his head. “No, Sestian. No. Don’t go. Please don’t go.” His lips quivered, his shoulders shook as the deluge of tears flooded from him. He dropped his head to the bed and wept.

  Emelia cradled him in her arms.

  “Why, why did he have to die? Why?” He clung to her, his heart ready to split at the seams.

  Her fingers stroked his hair.

  He sank to his knees, his face turned up to the ceiling, and wailed, “Damn you, God! Bring him back! He was my friend! You can have anyone. Why him? Why now? What am I to do? I need him!” He gripped his belly and sobbed. “Please. I’ll do anything. Please, just bring him back.”

  Eric crumpled in half, violent sobs decimating his body. His hand clutched at what was left of his shattered heart.

  “Please, Emelia, make this pain go away. Give me something to make it stop.”

  He remained on his knees until he could sob no more.

  “There is nothing for this kind of pain except time,” Gowran said, his hands on Eric’s shoulders. “Why don’t you let me help you back to bed?”

  “I don’t want to go to bed. I want my friend back!”

  Emelia kissed the top of his head and moved away.

  “I know you do,” Gowran said, “but—”

  “Stop!” Eric half-stood and faced the knight. “Why did he have to die? It’s not fair. It’s not right.”

  “You’re right. It’s not.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We were supposed to be friends forever. Grow old and fat together. Get married to the girls of our dreams. Have families. But that’s all gone. My friend is gone. I’ll never hear his laugh. See that crooked smile. Why didn’t anyone explain this to me? Why didn’t anyone tell me about this hollow ache in my gut, this hole in my heart that is swallowing me?”

  “No one can prepare for the loss of a loved one, Eric. You’d think after seeing many of my friends and loved ones pass on, I’d know what to expect. I could steel my heart, but each loss brings about a new kind of pain, touches a place inside that only they occupied.”

  “I feel so empty. So lost. Does he feel the same? Is he lost, too? Is he alone? What happens when we die?”

  He couldn’t stop the tears.

  The knight shook his head. “I’m sure wherever he is, Sestian is not alone. No matter what, he will always be in here.” Gowran tapped his chest above his heart. “Inside of you. Inside of all of us. As long as we remember.”

  Eric hung his head. His tears flowed in an endless stream. “I have to get some air.”

  He brushed past Gowran without looking up and left the infirmary, wincing as he bumped into tables and beds. He wandered into the cloisters and sat on a bench. Every inch of him hurt as if beaten with a club from the inside out. He pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead, folded in half and sobbed.

  Chapter 10

  David shielded his eyes from a ray of sunlight careening through the canopy. “Whoa, wait a minute. Did you say we’re in Fallhollow?”

  Twiller nodded. “I did. Is there something wrong with your hearing?” He waddled across the small glade and headed off down a narrow, wooded path.

  “No.” David followed. He scratched at his chest, annoyed by the tattoo’s thrumming and prickling. “How did we get here? Where’s my house? What happened to Charlotte?”

  “Hmm, let me see. One,” Twiller said, popping up a finger as he counted, “you ferried. Two, your home is where you left it, and three, Miss Charlotte is where you would have been if she hadn’t jumped in front of the ferry stream meant for you.”

  David folded his arms. “That doesn’t tell me anything. Where. Is. She?”

  “Worry not. The lovely young lady is
quite safe; you have my word.”

  “Your word? You just made my best friend vanish, and now you want me to trust you and your word? You are quite the jokester, aren’t you?”

  “Oh no, I never joke. I don’t play games, either. Complete waste of time.”

  “Then what was all that magic crap back at the house?”

  “Incentive.”

  David planted his feet in the soil. “What?”

  “You refused to come with me. I had to change your mind.”

  “By vaporizing my best friend?”

  “I vaporized no one. I simply ferried her.”

  “There’s that word again? What does that mean?”

  “Ferry. You know, travel, shuttle, traverse, go back and forth.”

  “I know what ferry means.”

  “Are you sure? You seem a bit confused.”

  “I’m confused about a lot of things,” David countered. “Vocabulary isn’t one of them.”

  “Ah yes, my humble apologies. I forgot you are quite the intellectual prodigy in your world. Tsk. It is a shame some qualities fail to carry forward.”

  The intense urge to play Whack-a-Mole with the pompous man threatened David’s composure. “Are you always such a jerk? Why can’t you just answer the question?”

  “Oh, very well,” Twiller said with a sigh of exasperation. He stopped and looked up at David, his round face pinched. “How can I explain so you will understand? Picture in your mind the universe as a colossal manor with endless rooms. Each room is a world, and each world occupies the exact same space in time as the one next to it or down the hall. While each room may be different, they still share the same geography.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. This place looks nothing like my home.”

  “Pay attention, boy. As I said, décor varies, geography remains the same. Think of your home. In it, there are many rooms. The interiors are all different, but they share the same space and time.”

  “Fallhollow shares the same spot in time as Havendale?”

  Twiller tapped his finger on his head. “Now you’re beginning to understand.”

  “But how is that possible?”

  Twiller returned to trekking the path. “I’m not a mage so don’t ask me questions for which I have no answers. It simply is.”

  “So, whatever happens here, happens back home?”

  “Only when the portals are opened. That is why they are hidden and traversable by only a few.”

  David chuckled. “And you want me to believe this.” His words were more a statement than a question.

  “Believe what you will. It changes nothing.”

  David’s insides fluttered. His stomach sank. “Okay, so answer this. If you didn’t obliterate my best friend, what did you do with her? Why aren’t we together?”

  “You know, that is a very interesting question. Something happened when I tried to return her to your room. The spell capped and forked. It’s the first time that’s ever happened to me.”

  “What in the heck does cap and fork mean?”

  “When I cast the spell, the magic sensed something within her, a reason to bring her to Fallhollow. It acted on its own. I had no control. She ferried through the door I had opened for you. Since I do not possess the power to reopen a recently used portal, I had to open a new door.”

  Twiller came to a stop and peered into the forest and sniffed the air. A fine line formed between his thick, red brows. From his coat pocket, he withdrew a gold contraption about the size of an avocado seed and studded with red, gold, and blue jewels. It appeared to be a watch of some sort, with several layers of hands and peculiar lettering and numbers. He looked up at the sky again, now thick with billowing, lavender clouds, and dropped the contraption into his pocket. “We must hurry. We have tarried here far too long.”

  Twiller held his arms straight out to his sides and muttered a few words that sounded like German pig Latin. David’s mouth dropped open as vines and roots slithered upon the ground and then raised upward, weaving and twining together until they formed an arched door strewn with leaves and moss. A baseball-sized knot in the wood served as a knob. Twiller pushed on the door and gestured toward the opening. “After you, Master David.”

  David glared through the passageway to the other side, which looked no different from where they were. He scratched his nose. “Umm, where does this go?”

  Twiller smiled. “Where else? Your final destination.”

  ***

  David’s breath hitched as he fell through a split second of cold, dark isolation. He emerged flat on his back, looking up at four stone warriors the size of two-story buildings, their swords raised and crossed, forming an archway over a path. Their human faces stared straight ahead, determined and unwavering. Enormous bat-like wings tipped in feathers arched from their shoulders to the ground.

  David clambered to his feet and gulped. “W-what are those?”

  “Ancient warriors, frozen in time,” Twiller scurried ahead, leaves and twigs crunching beneath his feet.

  “Frozen? You mean these things once roamed around like we do?” David marveled at one of the giant feet, part human, and part talon.

  Twiller nodded. “They are Grids, warriors of the gods, brought forth by the great mage master during the last Dragon War. When the war was over, he hid them here, just in case.”

  “Just in case what?” David asked. “You mean, like if there’s another war? And did you just say Dragon War?”

  Twiller nodded. “That I did. I attest, you must get your hearing checked. Come, come. We’re almost there.”

  David’s brain flip-flopped. There was no way Twiller could be telling the truth. But then how could he explain the crazy weirdness around him? His head hurt just thinking about it.

  Feelings of insignificance rushed through him as they walked the passageway between the Grids and into a dense part of the forest where trees seemed to swaddle them in a dark, spiritual cocoon. They soon came to a wide, arched, stone bridge and paused for a moment, taking in the roar of a cool waterfall cascading into a cerulean-blue pool. Spongy moss carpeted the ground. Boulders, like giant turtles, poked their smooth backs from the pool’s depths.

  Overhead, a flock of winged creatures, golden in color and double the size of an eagle, chortled as they glided from tree to tree.

  “More dragons?” David said.

  Twiller nodded. “Palindrakes. Messengers of the forest. You nearly crushed an infant earlier. Those are adults.”

  The path ahead narrowed into a tunnel of vines and flowers, the trunks and branches braided so tight, their lavender blooms so thick, no light penetrated. David’s stomach lurched at the scent. Wisteria. Lily had it everywhere back home, its sweet, intoxicating aroma almost nauseating.

  David ducked as he followed Twiller inside. “I can’t see a thing.”

  “The moon faeries prefer it that way.”

  “The who?”

  His breath caught as hundreds of small, winged humans, no bigger than David’s thumb, glimmered upon the woven branches. He peered closer. “Whoa! This is insane. May I hold one?”

  “Not if you wish to retain your appendages.”

  David yanked back his finger and scurried forward, bumping into Twiller, who stood with his palms on a round, wooden door etched with strange writing. A latch gave way, and the door swung open into a cavernous room. Thousands of butterflies took flight in his gut.

  Multiple levels of crystal walkways glimmered against slate-gray walls where thousands of books and parchments lay within niches. Hundreds of fiery orbs hovered in the air, casting the room in a warm, golden glow. Below, a wooden schooner, at least a football field long and half as tall—the name WindSong II etched on its bow—floated in a lake of sky-blue water, small waves slapping against its hull. Five masts, their sails furled, rose toward the vast ceiling flecked with twinkling stars.

  David took deep breaths as he descended the crystalline ramp. Never ha
d he seen anything so weird and wonderful. He clutched the smooth glass banister, terrified of missing a step. No sooner had he set foot on the deck of the ship than long, slender arms flew around his neck, almost knocking him over.

  “David? Oh my God!”

  The warmth of a thousand lifetimes engulfed him.

  Charlotte kissed his neck, his cheeks, before squeezing him in a giant hug.

  David wrapped his arms around her waist, his face and hands buried in her hair. Relief oozed out of him like jelly from a donut.

  “Char,” he whispered, pulling her closer. The urge to kiss her, devour her, tuck her away so no one would ever steal her away again, took over. No matter how close he held her, he couldn’t get close enough.

  “Where have you been?” She spoke into his chest. “I’ve been so worried about you. They kept telling me you’d be here soon, but it’s been hours.” She looked up at him, her fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

  His heart faltered at her warmth, her touch, a tingling reaction spreading throughout his body. Get it together, David. Friends. Just friends. Don’t eff it up. He licked his lips, now as dry as a desert bed. “Twiller and I took the scenic route. I’ll explain later.” He pushed his need to kiss her aside and stroked her cheek. “Are you okay?”

  Charlotte nodded. “I’m fine, although I’ll never travel Air Warp Speed again. It made me sick to my stomach.” She touched his arm. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I am now, but I am so weirded out. Did you know we’re in Fallhollow?”

  “Yeah, Slavandria told me.”

  “Who?” David ran his hand over the smooth, wood mast.

  “That would be me.”

  David gulped at the tall woman who appeared out of nowhere. She walked toward him with an air of confidence and purpose, her shimmering white gown rustling along the planked floor. A smile touched her face as she brushed back waves of lavender hair that flowed over her golden skin to her bare feet. Her slanted turquoise eyes narrowed and shone impossibly perfect, yet frightening at the same time.