Son of Dragons

by Andrea R. Cooper

  Morgan was the head monk who worked for the Warloc. He had burned Celeste’s parents, kept her prisoner and her magic dormant, at the Warloc’s command. Gillespie knew Morgan as well, had met him when he was chained in the dungeon apart from Celeste, until Nivel and Brock rescued him and killed Father Morgan.

  Wisps of Mirhana’s black hair loosened around her face and she tucked them behind her ears. He had seen the struggle written on her face as she debated with herself and her feelings after they kissed. But he could be patient. Even if it took all his willpower to restrain himself.

  Gillespie leaned back on his elbows. “Maybe we can rest here for a few days.”

  The fire crackled as if in answer. In truth, Landon would rather they were farther from the Drow. He would not risk Mirhana’s life. Not even for his own.

  “Where are you from, Jeslyn?” His eyes squinted as the sun poked through clouds. “I have never seen anyone with flecks of jewels embedded into their skin as you have.”

  A pink hue colored her copper skin. “I am from Ne’vrlle beyond Zeborah.”

  “I haven’t heard of such a place.” Brock chimed in.

  Even Gillespie and Celeste appeared perplexed as he.

  “It’s to the north of the Primora Sea. We travel south, so you will not come near my home.”

  “When we reach the Primora Sea, will you go back with your people?” Mirhana asked.

  Something niggled him about Jeslyn, but he couldn’t figure out what exactly it was.

  “It will be good to see my family at Valent again.”

  “Valent? I thought you said you were from Rel’ch Umb’rack?”

  Jeslyn paused as though in thought for a moment. “No, Rel’ch is the kingdom; Valent is the tribe I’m from. I like adventure. So I’ll decide if something better comes along or not by the time we reach the sea. For now, I like the company.”

  Her gaze lingered on Landon until he saw Mirhana’s fists clench as though she wanted to jerk Jeslyn’s hair to stop her from staring at him. In truth, Jeslyn’s stare did not comfort him as Mirhana’s did when she didn’t know he saw. The other woman eyed him like she examined a crown to decide if it fit or would be it better sold to the highest bidder.

  “I came all this way to find my cousin who ran away with an outsider. Some boy from Kirin. When she disappeared without her weapons, I suspected something and chased after them. I found his body mauled by the Troblins, and then hers later. My regret was that I hadn’t left sooner. Maybe she would have still been alive when I reached her.”

  “When this is finished.” Mirhana gave her a quick smile.

  Landon thought that Gillespie told him Jeslyn searched for her niece when they were in Troblin land.

  “We may visit your lands after Beltane. Perhaps I may have a jewel like one of yours?” Mirhana asked.

  “You do not know what you speak!” Jeslyn stood. “It’s painful when they root the jewels into your flesh. They are a reminder of—” Instead of finishing, she burst from the camp.

  “What was that about?” Gillespie voiced his thoughts.

  Landon shrugged, but Celeste stared where Jeslyn had fled as though she pieced together a puzzle in her mind. When she noticed he watched her, she clasped Brock’s hand.

  “Perhaps we should thank Jeslyn and send her on her way,” Landon said. His fear that what he saw earlier with the knife would happen. Jeslyn often did the bare necessities for the group. He believed she had her own agenda besides traveling with them to her homelands.

  “She has her worth,” Celeste said. Her blonde waves brushed her shoulders. “I don’t know how, but she’s an important part of the prophecies somehow.”

  “How can that be?” Landon asked. “She is not a dragon, nor even hinted at in the prophecies.”

  “Not all was given—just enough to accomplish the task.” Celeste crossed her arms.

  “You sound like Nivel,” Brock said.

  “Just be careful. We can’t be too trusting,” Landon mumbled.

  After Landon and Gillespie washed the cooking pan, they settled back at the fire. Jeslyn had returned while they were gone, and nodded when Gillespie sat down beside her.

  “Tell me how you and Brock met.” Celeste changed the subject by addressing Gillespie.

  The glow of the fire shadowed his and Jeslyn’s features. A fox darted after a mouse.

  “A dragon flew over our village. Since it didn’t eat anyone, or destroy anything, we had a celebration. Everyone thought it was a positive omen to see a dragon and live. There was dancing and plenty of food in the mill.” Gillespie rubbed his hands down his trousers. “It was the only place big enough to hold everyone. Then I heard a roar—or rather, felt it like when thunder shakes the ground. It was louder than Melwyn’s. But with the music, not many heard it. My dad and I stumbled outside.” His hand trembled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It was two dragons fighting. The mill caught fire from their breath. It happened so suddenly that the flames chewed through the mill before we could get everyone out. My mother and many others died that day.

  “A few of us left to hunt and kill these dragons. We searched for months, but found no sign of them. Then Father Morgan offered us hospitality. Blindly, we accepted. When he heard of our quest, he drugged our wine.

  “We woke in his dungeon. For weeks, he and his monks tortured us to tell him and the Warloc where the dragons’ treasure was hidden. Pleading for mercy brought us none. We told him we never found the dragons much less jewels and gold, but he didn’t believe us. I watched, unable to do anything, while he murdered my friends.”

  Landon’s stomach clenched. He knew some of the story from Gillespie, but he had not heard it in its entirety. His friend hadn’t wanted to discuss it. Maybe speaking these memories would purge his conscience that it was a tragic accident and could not have been stopped.

  “So much time passed, that I had given up hope. Then one of the monks entered with Nivel and Brock. I thought I could use one of them as advantage to get out. See my father again.

  When the monk came too close, I wrapped him in my chain. When I demanded my freedom, Nivel told me to do whatever I wanted. I thought they were calling my bluff, so I killed the monk. Neither showed any remorse and said they were there to help me. I didn’t believe them until they showed me the matching medallion.” He drew out the thin rope around his neck from his tunic showing them the image of the woman with the fish’s tail.

  “I owe Brock and Nivel a debt, which I hope to pay in full while on this journey.”

  After dinner, Brock took first watch. Even though he didn’t need sleep, the others refused to let him guard them all night and would take their turn.

  • • •

  Landon tapped Brock on the shoulder. “It’s my watch now.” A shock vibrated through him like when one touches a sword on a cold day.

  “Sorry.” Brock jerked away, “I can’t afford to become too lackadaisical with death looming inside me. Another innocent will not die because of me. By the way, take care how you treat my sister. If you hurt her, I’m sure she’ll do more damage to you than I.”

  Brock climbed down to where Celeste lay asleep, and curled beside her.

  Landon wondered if he would hold Mirhana while she slept. Would she ask him again? Her scent of woods, rose, and musk made him ache for her. He couldn’t sleep and would have welcomed dreams of her to ease this throbbing in his groin. Perhaps he could at least enjoy the quiet of the night.

  The gods mocked his hopes.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  From outside the camp, a shout rang in her ears. Mirhana grasped her sword and sped toward the sound. Again, the shout echoed through the woods.

  Gillespie met her at the first line of pine and elm trees. He held a piece of wood lit by the fire.

  “Sounds like Landon.” When Mirhana whispered the words, Gillespie tore through the trees as if the abyss nipped at his heels. Please gods, let him not have fallen into another dangerous trap. Troblin, Nerieds, Drow,
what next?

  His torch scattered light into the forest. Mirhana and Brock chased after him and then skidded to a stop.

  There, on the ground lay Landon covered in blood. Mirhana felt as though she couldn’t take a deep enough breath until he spoke.

  Melwyn held one of his arms in its mouth. “Get this cursed beast off me. He reeks.”

  “Melwyn.” Mirhana stamped her foot. “Release him!”

  The red and black striped cat dropped Landon’s arm. Then the cat collapsed.

  “Why did he attack Landon?” Brock asked.

  Mirhana ignored him as her hands moved over the animal’s body. Then, she removed three spikes that resembled the ones from the Drow creature with a scorpion body and head of a spider.

  “He’s wounded. The poisons muted his senses. He should be fine in a few days. His species has immunity to poisons. What would kill others may only make him sleep awhile.”

  “And Landon?” Gillespie pointed to the blood. “He’s bleeding.”

  “It’s not mine.” Landon rose. “Must be from when he fought whatever creature attacked him.”

  From the camp, Celeste called Brock’s name. He turned to leave and Gillespie walked beside him.

  “Why did he attack me?” Landon asked Mirhana.

  “He was confused.” She cursed as a bat squeaked overhead. “He smelled me on you, so he raged.”

  “Since when does kissing leave a scent?”

  She felt her body heat at his question. They had done more than kissing.

  At camp, Celeste and Jeslyn each had a blade in their hands, Celeste her garnet dagger and Jeslyn one of her curved blades, ready to fight the unknown enemy.

  When she saw Brock, Celeste rushed into his arms. Her smile broadened when Mirhana’s voice carried on the night air into camp.

  “You don’t know Melwyn’s sense of smell. He could smell any of the undead for a mile. If a deadwalker has fed recently, he’d find it ten miles away and tell you if its victim was male or female. That’s why I use him to hunt the undead with me, because it’s that keen.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Mirhana struggled not to invite Landon to lie beside her that night. Instead, she kept busy with preparing the evening meal and tending the horses. After she finally slept, it was sparse.

  In the morning, she cursed herself, realizing her body had already gotten used to having Landon near her. When he was gone during the coolness of the night, she yearned to hear his breathing and steady beat of his heart.

  Landon was brushing out his mare when it suddenly bolted away from him. “Come back here. I’ve got to get the burr out.”

  Amused, she watched him try repeatedly to help the horse. It reminded her of that evening in the river catching the fish by hand. He had tried for so long. Once he did it with her help, he could do it on his own. He knew little of survival, but she was amazed at how fast he did learn something once he was taught or did it himself. Now he caught fish faster than she could.

  “Here.” She held out her hand for the brush.

  When he gave it to her, their fingers met and she fought the urge to gaze into his eyes.

  He dropped his hand and she cleared her throat. “Fortunately, the burr is in the mane, a bit easier to get out than in the coat.” She clicked her tongue and walked toward the horse.

  Landon followed. His shadow fell over her and the horse and she shivered at his nearness.

  “Hold the hair here.” She grasped the mane just above the burr. “Now, work it out with the other hand. This keeps you from jerking on their hair and hurting them.”

  “Maybe you’ll let me practice combing out your hair someday.”

  She slapped the brush in his palm and stomped away. “I’m taking a bath in the brook. Alone,” she added over her shoulder, but she couldn’t hide her smile as she heard his chuckle behind her.

  • • •

  Before dawn the next morning, Mirhana shook Celeste awake. “The horses are ready.”

  “You said she needs another few days.” Brock rose.

  “That cursed Drow I’m bonded with,” she spat out on the ground as if to rid her mouth of her words, “warns me that the Queen’s having second thoughts. Already she prepares a group of seekers to find us. They’ll be here by nightfall.”

  “What can we do to slow them?” Brock glanced at Celeste; she had lost weight since leaving the Drow.

  “I’ve cleared the land of our presence with magic. They may track us with that.” Her black hair was once more twisted into a braid. No stray strands danced beside her face as typical these last few evenings. “Best chance is to leave now.”

  “But Celeste—”

  “We’ll go slowly.”

  The others rubbed sleep from their eyes, but pulled on their boots. Mounted, they left their haven. Mirhana and Brock ran beside the others while they rode. Since the horses only moved at a trot, there was no chance of them falling behind.

  Melwyn limped slightly, but remained by Mirhana’s side.

  Not until dusk did she notice Celeste press her hand to her stomach.

  “She pains.” Mirhana snatched Shadowdancer’s reins. Stubborn woman. If she hadn’t notice Celeste’s motion, she probably would have kept riding until she bled again.

  “There are lights in the distance.” Jeslyn pointed north. “Perhaps it’s a village ahead?”

  Ever since they encountered the Drow, Mirhana worried about villages. The last visit nearly killed them.

  “Can you make it a little farther?” Landon asked.

  Mirhana stepped forward, and then wove her hands over Celeste. “The wound tore, but I’ve mended it.” She turned and gave Brock a nod. “She’ll need rest soon.”

  “I can reach the village.” Her voice sounded as if she whispered the words.

  With Brock grumbling, they walked the horses. Celeste leaned forward on Shadowdancer with blankets propped over the front to cushion the ride.

  When they reached the village gates, Mirhana motioned for everyone to stop.

  “Who goes there?” the gatekeepers shouted.

  “We’re travelers and seek rest and refuge,” Mirhana answered.

  “Don’t take in strangers. Go away.”

  “We’ve someone hurt.” Landon stepped forward. “Surely this village allows hospitality for the wounded.”

  “Move on, we don’t have time for any more sick.”

  As if to answer, Melwyn growled.

  “She’s a healer.” Mirhana waved an arm at Celeste.

  “Healer?”

  They heard mumbles and then shuffling from the tower.

  “Then why don’t she heal herself?” Laughter echoed from them.

  “Our healers died last year. We don’t need another one about to die.”

  “They must have the plague.” Gillespie backed up.

  “She’s more than a healer—she’s a witch,” Mirhana said.

  Gasps drifted down from the tower.

  Mirhana knew witches were usually burned throughout the land, but she wanted to cater to their hope and get shelter for Celeste.

  “All we ask is three days of food and rest.” Mirhana placed her hands on her hips. “Then she and I will heal who we can.”

  “Can’t trust a witch.”

  “If your people are ill, then let the king decide. Surely, he’ll boil your insides that you turned away a chance for healing.” Landon laid a hand on one of the stones of the tower. “Or she may curse you for the disease to never leave you and not allow it to kill you, even though you beg for mercy.”

  After more debate, the gate finally swung open. “Go to the keep to the east. King Mar’kduke will show you your welcome.”

  • • •

  Grey mourning cloths hung from the keep’s windows. The stench of death and decay crept underneath Mirhana’s skin throughout the village.

  Guards blocked the entrance.

  “We’ve been summoned by King Mar’kduke,” Landon said.

  The guards
did not respond.

  Mirhana turned to her striped pet. “Prowl the village. Let me know of any dangers.”

  Melwyn leapt into the darkness.

  “Tell the king his healers are here.” Landon leaned forward. “Else you’d rather let him know as you hang from the gallows that you allowed his hope to die out here.”

  They answered by spinning on their heels and then ran for the keep.

  “Follow me.” Landon marched after them.

  Before the guards opened the keep’s door, a man thrust back the door with such force it knocked one of the guards into the moat.

  “You’re healers?” His wiry hair stuck out along the sides his ears, but his head was bald on top. Were it not for his fingers etched from rings, Mirhana would have thought him a madman.

  “Aye,” she answered.

  “Then why does that one appear near dead?” He pointed to Celeste.

  “She has powerful magic for healing, but none for herself.”

  “Bahh.” He waved them away. “I’ll rack whoever let you in here.”

  “It’s the truth.” Mirhana stepped forward. “Just give us three days’ rest and food.”

  Celeste was still weak and unable to ride long distances.

  “Heal my daughter now, and I’ll give you whatever you desire.”

  “She’s in no condition to heal,” Mirhana answered between clenched teeth. She didn’t know what healing would do to Celeste.

  “Heal her, or I’ll have all of you slain where you stand.”

  “Do not threaten us.” Her brother’s face hovered above this man.

  “Brock.” With his name upon Celeste’s lips, he turned. “Take me to his daughter,” Celeste said.

  “This could kill you,” Mirhana hissed.

  “It’s the only choice we have.”

  “Come.” The man nearly skipped down the corridor.

  “If this harms her,” Brock said, “I’ll watch you die, king.”

  The man chuckled as if indeed he were mad. He rushed them past tapestries that hung coated with dust.