Black Dragon

by Jada Fisher

  “I’m thirsty, but I can’t reach the tankard with apple nectar. Could you get the nameday twins and me some glasses?”

  “Of course. Keep them out of trouble.”

  “Will do, Lord W’allenhaus.”

  He gave them a nod, then headed off and Cassinda looked to them conspiratorially. “So it was three years ago that Lord Ain and Lady Ale’a were dancing around the thought of courting each other, but she ended up breaking it off with him because he was in love with someone else and couldn’t get over her.”

  “What?” Crispin asked with wide eyes while Ukrah just looked around to see if she could spot the very blond man. “Who was he in love with?”

  “I don’t know completely for certain, but if I had to guess, I would say it was probably—”

  “Here you are, th-th-three glasses of apple nectar, the hardly sweet and spiced version of cider,” he grumbled dryly. “How you drink this stuff, I will never know.”

  Cassinda looked disappointed that she couldn’t finish her story, but she flashed the giant a smile as she turned to him. “Not everyone has a sweet tooth like you, Lord W’allenhaus.”

  “Which is probably a good th-thing, otherwise Braddock would never be able to keep up with the city’s demands.”

  “Speaking of which.” Finally, it was Eist herself who walked up beside her husband. She too was dressed up, although it was in a matching formal tunic to her husband and very clean-looking hose. “I heard that he’s about ready to present the cake now that the guests of honor are here. Are you going to be able to contain yourself long enough for them to get a bite?”

  “I’m not a complete animal,” he argued with a grin. “But…it’ll be a struggle.”

  “I’m sure. I’m also pretty sure that you’ve shown these guys to enough guests. Let them look at the best part and let the anticipation ramp up.”

  “What’s the best part?” Ukrah asked, eyebrows shooting up. She had a cool, delicious juice in her hand, cake in her future, and people she actually liked all around her. What was supposed to top that?

  “Oh, my dear charge, I forget that you don’t know. The best part is the presents.”

  To Ukrah’s great surprise, the god-woman gently gripped her wrist and pulled her along, Crispin and Cassinda following, until they reached the back table. Except one could hardly tell that there was a table there at all because it was so overflowing with packages, parcels, and sacks all tied up with neat ribbons and cloth.

  “W-w-w-what is this?” she heard herself sputter, almost feeling outside of herself for a moment.

  “Normally, it isn’t this overboard, but we figured we’re making up for a lot of missed years. So don’t get used to it.”

  Ukrah didn’t think she could. The idea that the entire table was loaded up with things for just the two of them was completely mind-boggling. No wonder people from the civilized lands were so spoiled.

  But for once, she was excited to be spoiled too. No worries of it making her weaker, or soft. Just sheer happiness and excitement and wonder for whatever was in those prettily-wrapped packages.

  “You really didn’t have to do this,” Crispin said, and Ukrah was grateful that one of them was actually able to make coherent statements.

  “Of course I didn’t. But I went about ten years without celebrating my own nameday because it felt wrong to after my parents died, just like you said before. So maybe I’m also making up for myself missing out on a decade of fun.” She let out a soft, soft laugh. “Indulge me, if you will.”

  “I don’t think we’re going to have a problem doing that.” Ukrah nodded eagerly in agreement with Crispin’s assessment.

  “Alright then, I hope I didn’t show you them too soon, because no presents until after the cake.”

  “Why?” Ukrah asked without thinking, her hands itching to get her fingers on those gifts.

  “It’s tradition. Besides, misery breeds character, or something like that. Now come on, I want you to meet Fjorin.”

  It took a great deal of effort to leave that glorious, glorious table, but somehow, Ukrah managed and tottered off behind the god-woman to meet a truly large man.

  Again, no one really could compare to Athar, but the rider in question was clearly a warrior. He had a long, thick beard and his hair seemed to be almost as long as Ale’a’s, done up in a set of complicated braids that twisted in particularly pleasing patterns.

  He was friendly too, bellowing happily like Braddock and sweeping the two of them up in a hug. Ukrah hadn’t been ready for the physical contact, but he put her down quickly when Eist cleared her throat.

  From that point on, there were a few more introductions and conversations, but Ukrah was only half-paying attention, looking repeatedly back at the gift table. Occasionally, she’d catch Crispin looking too and a thrill of anticipation wound through them.

  “Huh, you know, I’m almost jealous that I had a loving family that celebrated my birth every year,” Cassinda remarked teasingly after about the dozenth or so time she craned her neck to check the impressive pile.

  “Almost?” Crispin prodded.

  “You’ve paid a pretty hefty price. I’m about fifty-fifty on whether it’s worth it.”

  Ukrah sobered and was about to tell her that it wasn’t nearly, no matter how excited she was for the presents, but before she could, there was a massive cheer and people suddenly started singing.

  She stiffened, balling her hands into fists, but she relaxed when she realized what was going on. It seemed that Braddock had indeed finished the ‘cake’ and was now bringing the confection in from a side door that she hadn’t noticed before.

  It turned out that the civilized lands had a very different idea what a cake was. Ukrah had been expecting a log-like loaf filled with dried fruits and sweet grains, but instead was treated to a towering creation that looked like two circles placed right on top of each other before being coated in a thick layer of paint.

  The folks finished their song as Braddock put the thing on the table, and Ukrah found herself being shuffled forward to the center table along with Crispin and a wide, triangular knife was put into her hands.

  “I… I don’t understand,” she sputtered, feeling a bit put on the spot with the massive food plus the singing and all the staring.

  “We cut the cake,” Crispin said gently, grasping the handle of the knife over her own hand. “We’ll do it together.”

  She gave him a nod and a grateful smile, allowing him to guide her hand. She wasn’t sure what to expect when they did slice through it, but she was pleased at the aroma that filled the air as they did.

  It turned out that the cake certainly was a masterpiece. It was some type of airy dough on the top and bottoms and center of each circle with a layer of custard and jam between them. She had no idea what fruit was used to make the compote, but once she was given a plate, she was happy to find that it was absolutely delicious.

  Happiness flooded her as apparently only a name-day cake could, and she sat down to savor each bite. Eist was right about her husband, however, as the man cut off a truly impressive slice and proceeded to devour it with gusto.

  “Man,” Crispin groaned beside her, taking another bite of his own cake. “If I knew we were going to be treated to this, I would have pretended it was my nameday long ago.”

  Ukrah agreed, although her mouth was full, and Cassinda remarked that she would ask for the same on her own birth celebration in the winter. Ukrah couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty that she had never considered the girl her friend, because the redheaded, green-eyed young woman was certainly nice enough.

  Certainly nicer than any of the students at the academy.

  It really was a lovely celebration, and sometime after the cake, someone started singing a lively song, and soon everyone was clapping or singing along, generally enjoying themselves. Ukrah let herself get swept up in all of it, feeling like she was somewhere between wanting to cry from happiness and doing a jig on the table.

  She
should have known it couldn’t last.

  The revelry was so loud and boisterous that she didn’t notice the loud chanting at first. But then the door slammed open and about a dozen people poured in.

  Everything came to a screeching halt, and Ukrah could feel the tension suddenly ramp up. Looking to the sudden guests, it was easy to tell that they were not invited.

  “The tavern’s reserved,” Braddock said, a bland but friendly smile on his face. “Sorry if yer group was looking to rest here today, but I’m afraid you’ll have to go elsewhere.”

  They were all dressed differently, but there was something about their formation that made it very clear they were a group. And while they didn’t have weapons drawn and they weren’t yelling, there was a clear air of animosity going on.

  “We do not come here for revelry,” the man who she assumed was their little leader said before raising his hand and pointing at Eist. “We have come to condemn the heretic, and the vile, evil rhetoric she has spread throughout the land like poison!”

  Heretic? What?

  The moment cracked, however, as Eist let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Oh, great, it’s a whole little clutch from the Church of the Three. Your gods literally confessed to coming here and messing up the balance on accident. And, as much as I would love to have a whole go around with you here and now, this isn’t my party, so let’s not make this about me.”

  Ukrah looked between the group and Eist, the former all bristling while the god-woman was standing casually by the cake, her plate on the table and the triangular knife still in her hand.

  “Enough blasphemy! You have defamed the gods long enough. We come with a word of warning, heretic: repent and beg them their mercy!”

  The whole room tensed collectively, wound so tightly she was surprised that folks weren’t combusting right then and there. Eist held her casual demeanor, but she did saunter past her husband, past the other guests, until she was practically in the leader’s face.

  “You can’t beg mercy from things that are dead.” The man flinched, baring his teeth at her, but Eist continued blithely. Suddenly, Ukrah could see the young girl of legend. The one who told off ancient spirits and never found a fight she didn’t like. “Except they’re not really dead so much as they just don’t even exist anymore. And you know how I know that? Because I devoured them. Swallowed them right down like a hot soup.” She made a smacking sound with her mouth for dramatic effect. “Is that the kind of life you want? Worshiping an old meal that I digested and left in a chamber pot five years ago?”

  Ukrah was outright impressed at how casually the woman completely eviscerated the man’s faith. She didn’t even look like she had to think about it. The god-woman half-turned to Dille, chuckling as she made a gesture to the man. Mocking him and his followers.

  In fact, Ukrah was so busy admiring the way Eist dismantled the man that she didn’t see him move until he suddenly slapped the woman across the face.

  It was like lightning struck right through her core, and Ukrah was on her feet without even realizing it. Eist, however, just let out a long sigh.

  “Come on now, I’m tired. All of you need to get out before you cause any trouble.”

  Her voice was calm, but all Ukrah could see was red. The man from the Church of the Three had struck not only a revered leader and her new family matriarch, but also a woman who was pregnant.

  Ukrah was sure that Eist could take them down without breaking a sweat normally, and maybe even would have done so already, but the woman was several months along and had to protect her child.

  There was a noise beside Ukrah as she only barely realized that Cassinda had knocked everything in front of her out of the way to vault herself up and over the table before charging the group. Somehow, Eist seemed to know this without seeing, and she held her hand out to stop Cassinda from starting a real fight.

  “See? I’m being gracious. Giving you a head start when I’m sure my charge would love to tear your entire head off.”

  The woman next to the leader spat at Eist’s feet, taking a step forward with her hand raised, then smashing the vial in it against the ground.

  “Be cleansed in the name of the Three!” she shouted as purple smoke began to fill the room, thick and acrid.

  And that was just about enough for Ukrah.

  She blinked, and the next moment that the desert girl opened her eyes, she was in front of the leader with her hands wrapped tightly around his throat. She was squeezing, her fingers cracking from the effort, but she didn’t let up.

  There was noise all around her, some things she was able to identify easily in the back of her mind while others melded into the rushing of her ears. She picked out Athar grabbing Eist and pulling her to the back of the room. Dille cursing and the rushing of wind gathering all the smoke and ushering it out. People drawing weapons, and Braddock celebrating a real brawl.

  There were more than enough people in the room to handle the fight without Eist even lifting a finger, but that wasn’t enough for Ukrah. They had disrespected her sponsor. They had laid hands on the god-woman. Threatened her. They still carried the sigils of the gods who nearly killed the world, screaming of cleansing but not understanding that they were the ones who needed to be washed away.

  The man was bigger than her, stronger, but he couldn’t escape her hold. He turned purple, and then red, and it wasn’t until he shoved her back with both of his hands that she finally released him.

  Stumbling back, she felt hands on either side of her, steadying her, and realized that it was Cassinda and Crispin there to support her.

  She could feel that they were just as mad as she was, and it was instinct that had her holding her hands out to them. They gripped hers immediately, and she felt energy rush violently out of her.

  It was like that vision she’d had in the magic test, but so much more. Heat, anger, and power burst from them in waves that were invisible to her gaze, but she could feel them cutting through the air.

  It was like someone had silenced the world. One moment, everyone was fighting and there were cries of sacrilege and the Three filling the air along with battle shouts, and the next, every single one of the followers was violently thrown back into either the walls or out the door and into the street.

  Someone gripped her hands, tearing them from the hold of her friends, and Ukrah blinked back to the real world to see Dille right in front of her. Others were calling to get the town guard while some were subduing the sect members left in the tavern, and Ukrah suddenly had a hard time believing that she was capable of causing anything that had just happened.

  “Hey, is everything okay here?” Eist said, rushing up beside them.

  Dille’s face was grim as she shook her head. “We need to discuss something. Tonight.”

  “Really, Dille? Is now the time? Their first nameday has been ruined.”

  But the governess looked just as firm as ever. “Yes, this is the time. Waiting even a single day would be doing them a disservice. This is urgent, Eist.”

  The god-woman let out a heady sigh. “I thought the dramatic part of my life was over. Fine. I’ll bring her to your estate tonight. Happy?”

  “No. And I think it might be quite a while before any of us are again.”

  6

  It’s What’s on the Inside that Counts

  Ukrah looked around the living quarters they were in, trying to take in every detail so she could keep her mind off of why she was here and what was going on.

  She didn’t know how she had physically moved those sect members. It wasn’t like she had done something like it before. Even when she had rescued Crispin from the guards, it had been a sort of entity outside of herself, rooted in her but with branches reaching far and wide to do whatever it wanted.

  But what happened in the tavern was definitely led by her. She had been upset that they had struck Eist, that they had disrespected the woman she was coming to see as her mother. They were threatening the safety of an unborn child. All those thi
ngs had her need to protect burning hot and bright within her.

  She’d moved people, with her mind. It wasn’t even like the wind that Dille had summoned to whisk that choking smoke away. No, it had been more like a force. One that came out of her, Crispin, and Cassinda as one.

  But that didn’t make any sense, and the fact that it didn’t make any sense made her nauseous, so she tried to concentrate even more on the mundane details around her.

  Except…Dille’s living quarters were anything but mundane.

  They were obviously in her sitting room, furniture surrounding them that was created from dark wood and deep, deep purple wool. It was what Ukrah guessed was a more Margaidian style, judging by what little she knew of their faraway kingdom.

  There were multiple lanterns hanging about, one dangling from each arched window that led out into the night. Ukrah couldn’t help but think about those as chances for more assassins to get in, but they were high enough up that maybe it wasn’t all that much of a threat. Besides, going into the lair of one of the most powerful witches in recent history did seem like a pretty hefty gamble.

  And Dille definitely was a witch. It was easy to forget while watching her do official duties, dressed how she usually was as one of the civil servants of the city. But beyond the sitting area that was obviously sectioned off with the nice furniture was what Ukrah could only describe as a full witch’s workshop.

  There was an overly large fireplace in which hung a giant cauldron, with two smaller ones also on the same sturdy spit. There were four or five shelves filled with jars that looked to be full of everything from dried herbs to bones to crystal-like rock and animal parts. There was another table with all sorts of vials set up and complex measuring tools as well. She spotted a writing desk, several bookshelves crammed with books and scrolls, and a small rack of staffs, each one quite different from the next.

  “You’d think with how she pitched a fit for us to get here as soon as we could that she wouldn’t leave us waiting,” Eist groused, rubbing her stomach in small circles. “And don’t think that things are over just because some little theatrics happened. You still have your gifts to open.” She paused and looked to her feet, which were propped up on one of the low tables. Ukrah couldn’t be certain, but it seemed as if her ankles were swollen. “…tomorrow. Maybe I’ll have Mrs. Kaldonner make you a roast. I’m sure I could get a boar from Braddock…”