by H. A. Harvey
“Looking for a healer, and soon.” David replied.
Autumn stiffened quickly, “Nian?”
“Tombo is the worst. Nian’s injuries don’t seem too bad, but . . .” David hesitated and eyed Malor suspiciously.
“They’re friends, David. You can trust them. But what?”
“I don’t know. There’s something wrong with all of them.” David frowned, “Even Kaesa and Xain that were with me and weren’t anywhere near the fight.”
Malor cleared his throat, “I’m likely the best healer you’ll find in time to do anything for someone in need of magical healing.” He turned to Autumn and the ox, “I suppose I need to stop doubting your instincts, though you should explain why you left out the part about the unicorn.”
Autumn rubbed her chest a little self-consciously as she climbed back onto the wagon and shrugged, “I hadn’t gotten that far yet. Let’s go Axios. David, lead us to them quickly.”
The company drug the wagon off the road far enough to stash it behind the foot of a hill where Malor released the magic holding himself and Axios in their forms. The wizard rode behind David on Gatefyre while Autumn happily agreed to ride on Axios’ broad shoulders. The Ogre was no match for the ember stallion in speed, even bearing two riders. Still, Autumn was impressed how quickly his long strides ate up terrain. She wasn’t sure she counted as a rider, or even a backpack to the massive frame of Axios.
Axios’ pace slowed with the onset of night, but he kept a brisk jog. More than a few times, he stumbled on boulders or burnt, gnarled stumps in the darkness. Any other rider would likely have been sent tumbling into the night, but Autumn nimbly maintained her post astride the ogre’s neck. Autumn was beginning to wonder if they’d veered off course when the light of a campfire at last glimmered in the distance.
The wizard was already working near Tombo, ribbons of white light coiling up from the earth about his feet and flowing around his swaying, gesturing form. David stood by Rowan, gesturing angrily toward Tombo. When Axios’ massive form began to catch light from the fire, David hurried over to meet them. Autumn hopped lightly down to the ground beside the Ogre as David neared.
“I told Rowan to wait two days,” David sputtered angrily, “But the fool went and poisoned Tombo anyway. Your healer friend says he hadn’t stopped breathing yet, so there might be aught he can do.”
“Why in Ruin’s name would he do that?” Autumn asked, “He loves that beast.”
David gestured around the camp. “They’ve all just given up. Nian when you . . . well, when he thought you died, and everyone else just fell in behind him.”
“God-kinz.” Axios grunted.
Both David and Autumn turned to stare at the Ogre. He noticed their incredulity and nodded toward Nian.
“Dat boy haz da captainz gaze.” Axios grumbled, “Felt it when wez furzt met. Orcz don’t cow soz eazy az da rezt, but felt it juzt da same. Et makez folk believe az dey do. Longer ya stayz wit him, da more et takez hold.”
“What does that have to do with demigods?” Autumn queried.
“Firstbornz powur iz wut dey believe IZ.” The ogre explained, “Fer god-kinz, prolly belief in somethin’ moite be dangrus if dat meanz belief in failure.”
David looked utterly lost. Autumn stared at Axios in surprise. Being a little more familiar with the Ogre’s rough dialect, she understood well enough, but wasn’t expecting a lesson in lore from an Ogre. She supposed an old soldier didn’t get that way without picking up a few tricks and stories, even if the soldier was a nine-foot tall walking siege weapon.
“So, something about Nian makes people believe in him.” Autumn paraphrased Axios as much to ensure she understood as to catch David up. “For demigods, that lends them strength, even more than they have alone. But if he genuinely gives up hope . . . he drags down anyone who has placed their faith in him.”
“I believed in him,” David argued, “but if he’s giving up here, I’m still going after Karen.”
“Yer jezt mortal.” Axios shrugged, “Not so bad fer you Iz guess.”
Autumn stalked over to where Nian lay sleeping. She was furious. Even if he didn’t know everyone else would fold behind him, how could he just give up? How dare he make her the reason everything fell apart? She wanted to punch him, but as she stood over the sleeping youth, she found she couldn’t even ball her fist.
“Why can’t I hit you?” Autumn muttered to no one in particular out of frustration.
“The unicorn.” Malor stated tiredly as he stumbled over to seat himself by the fire, “I’m guessing it shared its essence with you to restore your life. Some of the Incarnates are known to have what scholars call Sentinel Beasts, like caretakers and minor functionaries. Unicorns are sentinels of Gaul the Forest God, Incarnate of Life. They’re incapable of harming life, as it opposes their very nature. I wouldn’t be surprised if you find it just as difficult to bring yourself to violence, at least for a while. Mortal will inherently exerts itself over magical constraints though. I shouldn’t be surprised if you’re back to your normal, violent self within a few weeks.”
Autumn made a mental note to punch Malor in a few weeks as she knelt beside Nian’s head. The more she thought about it, she didn’t want to hit him. All of this was her fault. Just as he was a part of her, she was part of him, and she had ruined his effort to keep that from being ripped away. She tenderly took Nian’s hand, then bent and wakened him with a soft kiss.
. . .
Dawn’s brilliant array of color was blending into the bright, steady light of morning as the company finished collecting their things. Nian caught himself staring at Autumn again. Part of him still thought she had to be a dream. He’d seen the brutal end with his own eyes. Yet, here she was, without a mark on her.
Suspicion of fairy trickery had stirred for a moment. Not only was her garb missing, but even the scar that had been on her cheek since he found her on the fields of Broadstone was gone. Though she wore garb unmistakably fashioned in the queen’s court, he was sure it was really her. Nian doubted a doppelganger could copy the connection he felt with Autumn, even if it could duplicate her form and habits perfectly. If such a feat were within the scope of a fairy’s power, he was sure the queen herself would have used it on him.
Autumn looked over and, catching him staring, smiled. Nian returned her smile and waved. The Dryad shook her head and went back to helping load the wagon. Xain and Kaesa had both insisted upon securing the valuable portion of the drake’s hoard, along with as much hide, scale, and bone as they could strip in a few hours.
Nian had tried to argue for immediate departure, but had been finally convinced to wait long enough for Malor to recover from working on Tombo and Rowan to cut and cook a small supply of the drake meat. According to his friend, drake meat was an invaluable trail provision. Immune to rot and possessing a scent that kept all but the most desperate of predators at bay, a single strip of steak would sit in the stomach and dissolve slowly, keeping a traveler fed and hearty for as long as a week. Nian saw Malor leaning upon a staff of gnarled grey wood near Tombo’s sleeping form. Rowan seemed to be having an animated conversation with the wizard, so decided to investigate.
“There is a limit to what even magic can do, boy.” Malor stated curtly as Nian drew close enough to hear. “Your ape was on the threshold of death four different ways between the blood lost, crushed bone, infection, and poison. That he’ll live at all I consider a feat worthy of a song, but it will be more than a week before he can travel, and longer before he can bear any real weight or strain.”
“We can’t just leave him here.” Rowan asserted. “He’s too weak to defend himself or even gather food. Can’t you brace him up with more magic?”
“I’ll be taxed enough masking the lot of us as we head into Kadisvale.” The wizard shook his head. “Besides, artificially increasing his strength while he’s healing would likely leave him crippled i
n the long run.”
“What about the brogan?” Nian suggested, hoping to be helpful. “Tombo’s basically their hero in this whole thing . . . he’d be safe with them while he recovered.”
“How are we going to ask them to do that?” Rowan argued, “They don’t have any real language.”
“We may not need to say anything.” Nian shrugged, “It was their prophecy that Tombo would fight a dragon. They can see he’s hurt and are doubtless grateful. I’ll see if I can get Shirts to understand. He was lurking around here last night, where did he get off to?”
Rowan looked around and pointed across the rolling hills of the blasted plain. “He was tagging along after Riona. She wandered off into the hills over there a while ago.”
“Alright,” Nian nodded and started off to find Riona. “I’ll go see about the brogan, you two see if Axios would be willing to help get him through the hedge and across the bog, then help with the wagon.”
Nian decided that taking Gatefyre along would not only help him catch up faster, but give him a better vantage from which to spot Riona. He’d only ridden a few minutes out when he spied Riona. She was covered from head to foot in ash dust. A little lump of soot trailed along behind her, as she wandered through the low hills, digging through the piled drifts of ash. She waved in distracted greeting as Nian rode up.
“What are you doing?” Nian demanded as he reigned the stallion away from her little cloud of debris. “Everyone else is getting things ready to go, and you’re out here digging in piles of soot.”
“I can’t leave yet.” Riona answered, still focused on her digging. “I don’t want to hold things up, so just go if I’m not back in time.”
“What do you mean?”
“We haven’t finished the task. I can’t leave the valley until the queen’s task is done.”
“The dragon is dead, Rio.” Nian reminded the girl, “It’s not how I wanted things to end up, but that was one of the options.”
“All of her influence, Nian. That was the deal, and I can still feel her hold on me. It loosened after we met in her court, but it is still there.”
“She can’t possibly expect us to cart out all this ash and . . .” Nian paused in sudden realization. “The egg! You’re looking for her egg.”
Riona nodded, “I think the fight, what I saw of it at least, was over here, so that’s where I’m looking.”
“You’d never find it here. The fight didn’t drift back this far until Autumn started back in on it. Come-on, I’ll show you where I dropped the egg.”
Nian offered her a hand up, which she gladly accepted, covering him with soot in the process. Shirts was outraged at being left behind, so Riona hopped down and, against Gatefyre’s protests, hefted him up onto the horse’s shoulders before climbing back up behind Nian. After making a point that he was not happy with his third passenger in the least, Gatefyre dutifully carried them on over the blasted plain.
The site of the opening battle with the fell beast wasn’t hard to find. Fresh scars of blackened earth and churned up rocks and stumps still covered the field where Nian had met his first dragon. He looked about, trying to remember the lay of the land when he had been unhorsed. He finally worked his way to a small basin and helped the others down from the horse’s back before dismounting himself.
“I’m pretty sure it rolled down this slope.”
Nian gazed down into the basin and scanned the ashy soil. His eye caught a blue-green shimmer at one end of the indentation. Nian drew his relic blade and started wading down through the ash.
“Wait! Nian!” Riona darted past him and plucked the egg from the ashes, clinging to it like a swaddled infant. “What are you doing?”
“What you wanted, finishing the task.”
“We don’t have to kill it, Nian.” Riona glared back at him, “How could you think of doing something like that?”
Nian blinked at Riona. “How? Look around you, Riona. That thing will do this to someplace else when it hatches, and who knows when or even if someone with weapons to stop it will show up? You don’t have to watch but I have to finish this here. Give me the egg.”
“Not on yer life!” Riona scrambled up the far slope of the basin. “The Emissary of Hope does not go around killing the unborn! We can carry it out of the valley and it finishes your geas with the queen.”
“Think about this Riona.” Nian leaned on the handle of his sword and gave a tired sigh, “Where are we going to leave it? Wherever it hatches, it will take over and destroy everything.”
“We won’t leave it anywhere then!” Riona shouted back, “I’ll keep it!”
“Riona, this isn’t a baby deer, or even a wolf or falcon. It’s a damn dragon!” Nian found himself shouting back. “You saw what its mother was like.”
“That’s right. Its mother, Nian. What do you think any mother would be doing if she caught some creature running off with her baby?” Riona snapped back. “As for the rest of this, we don’t know where she came from or anything like that. Maybe this one will be different if it has someone teach it.”
“You’re beyond silly at this point, Riona. You don’t know anything about teaching dragons anything, or even if you can teach a dragon or they’re born knowing everything off the bat. You can’t teach a scorpion not to sting.”
“I’m silly? You’re the one that still can’t get it straight between drake and Dragon. You can teach a wolf to guard sheep instead of eating them.”
Nian was about to remind her that a dragon was much more dangerous than a wolf when Shirts joined the argument. He probably had no idea what they were saying, but clearly liked Riona more than Nian, and didn’t appreciate him yelling at her. Shirts started barking and growling at Nian, and even shoveled several pawfuls of dirt into his face. Nian sputtered and blinked ash and dirt out of his eyes. When he could see again, Nian sheathed his sword in surrender.
“Fine.” He said bitterly.
“You’re not going to smash it?” Riona still held herself between Nian and the egg, keeping a suspicious distance.
“No, but you have to keep it away from anything it can hurt.”
“It’s an egg, Nian. It pretty much rolls and sits.”
“When it hatches into whirling death by teeth and claws.”
“Alright, you won’t let the others smash it either?”
“Autumn used up all of Kaesa’s arrowheads.” Nian chuckled, “I think I’m the only one in the group with a weapon that could do anything to it.”
“That wizard could, or maybe the ogre or freaky-strong Kaesa.”
“Alright, nobody will hurt the egg.”
“Promise.”
“Alright! I promise nobody in the group will hurt the egg,” Nian found the little cinder-covered girl’s protective pose and the rotund, growling Shirts standing sentinel at her ankles too much to stay angry at Riona and chuckled instead. “As long as you don’t let it hurt anyone . . . and you name it something better than wobbly or shirts.”
Riona looked stunned, “What’s wrong with Wobbly and Shirts? They make sense.”
“Well, for one thing, Wobbly turns out to be a prophet for his entire people.” Nian walked slowly up to Riona and Shirts, holding his hands out to his sides to assure Shirts the fight was over. “And no self-respecting bard is ever going to tell the tale of Wobbly and his dragon-slaying prophecy.”
“I don’t think brogan have bards. What about Shirts?”
“Well, he’s only got the one shirt.”
“Now Shirt would just sound silly. . .” Riona had graduated from defiant toddler to teasing juvenile, but Nian’s attention was drawn to a glowing ember along the scar of dragon fire, so he failed to respond. “What is it?”
Nian didn’t answer. He was already walking over to the glowing speck. He heard Riona running after him, but didn’t bother to pause. Kneeling down, Nian confirmed
what he’d suspected, despite the reddish-yellow color of the spark. Seeing a tiny woman, so small she could have danced on the head of a pin, lying on the cracked and blackened earth, Nian finally answered Riona as she came up.
“It’s the sprite that led me here.” Nian whispered, half afraid speaking to loud so close would hurt her and half out of reverence. “I’d thought she got burnt up by the dragon’s fire after . . . well after she saved my life with a prank.”
Riona crouched next to him, “I guess drake fire is magical flame, sprites can drink up magic . . . but it’d be like a fly trying to drink a tidal wave.”
“I guess she was thirsty.” Nian started to reach down to gently scoop her up but suddenly yelped in pain and jerked his hand back. His fingers were already reddened and blistering though he’d still been several inches from touching the tiny fairy. “She’s searing hot, like a blacksmith’s forge.”
Riona drew her dagger, but Nian caught her wrist. She gave a small laugh. “Nian, I’ll be careful.”
Nian realized that Riona felt closer to fairies than anyone in the group and felt a little foolish. He released her wrist and nodded. Riona slid her knife as flat as she could manage along the ground towards the fairy. When it was about three inches from the sprite, the blade started to glow red. Before it closed within an inch, the steel of the blade liquefied and stuck to the charred earth. Riona withdrew her dagger in frustration.
“Riona, do you still have that cloth?” Nian suddenly thought of something, “The bandage I wadded up for you to bite down on, by the road?”
Riona nodded and reached into the collar of her shirt and pulled the folded bit of shimmerine from her cleavage and handed it to him. Nian tentatively set the fabric down next to the sprite. He waited, the fabric shifted from its normal stark white to a fiery orange hue and warmed, but did not burn or become uncomfortable to touch. Nian withdrew the bandage, a little surprised that it almost instantly returned to its bleached former appearance. He unfolded it into two parts then gingerly used one half to sweep the sprite onto the other. Riona reached out to take the cloth, but Nian pulled back slightly.