Lost in Averell

by Tara Grayce

  We aren’t going to make it.

  Chapter 18

  We Charge Into a War

  In front of us, Melltra laughs a jet of purple smoke. “Did you think you could escape me?”

  If we hadn’t been trapped, Trygg would’ve changed into his silvaran form, snorted, and made some comment about villains and their clichéd phrases.

  I tighten my grip on Brett. “Nella, you should go.”

  She, at least, could escape by turning into water and filtering through the cracks in the stones.

  Herockghyrra, too, could probably escape. If she lunged to her right, she could fly up and out the holes in the Great Hall.

  But Trygg, Brett, and I are going to be captured. We don’t have a means of escape. Herockghyrra, being only a teenage dragon, might be able to carry one of us. But the other two would be captured.

  Nella shakes her head, but her voice is tiny and fragile. “I’m not going to leave you.”

  “It does us no good if you’re captured with us. Go.”

  Nella drops Brett’s arm, gives me one last look, and melts into a puddle. I stagger with all of Brett’s weight now resting on my shoulder, but I’m careful not to step on Nella’s quickly disappearing puddle.

  “Herockghyrra, you should go too.” I say it in an undertone too low for Melltra to hear, but one of Herockghyrra’s long, slim ears flick back in my direction and her tail lashes, if in a sarcastic reply.

  “I know you promised you wouldn’t leave us behind, but you’re the only one with a hope of stopping a war. Your mother won’t listen to me or Trygg, but she will listen to you. And my dad will listen when you tell him where to find us.” I struggle to keep my grip on Brett as he slowly slips to the ground. “And can you take him too? He needs help, and he never should’ve been a part of this.”

  I’m not sure if I’m getting through to her. She growls and shoots a burst of flame at Melltra and the farffles.

  Melltra puffs out a thicker cloud of smoke, and Herockghyrra’s flame winks out when it touches the smoke.

  “Please. It does no good if all of us are recaptured.” I let Brett slide all the way to the floor, my arms aching too much to hold him anymore. “And Brett will die in less than a day without help.”

  If I can at least get Brett to safety, then I won’t be a complete failure. He isn’t even of this realm. He shouldn’t have to die in it because of some half-dragon, half-silvaran monster’s twisted version of a war that happened over twenty years ago.

  I don’t really want to die because of that either, but at least I’m my dad’s daughter. I’m a part of Averell as surely as I’m a part of Earth.

  Slowly, Herockghyrra gives a bob of her head.

  I let out a breath and drag Brett closer to her so that she can grab him quickly.

  As I step back, Trygg changes back into a boy and joins me. “When she gets out of here, climb on my back and we’ll charge her. It’s a slim chance but...”

  “But we’re going to go out fighting. Got it.” I nod, but then I can’t help myself. I give Trygg a quick hug. “Thank you for agreeing to come along that day, and for being my friend all these years.”

  He winks and grins back, even if the grin doesn’t flash in his eyes like it usually does. “I’m just glad I have a friend that puts up with me.”

  In a wink, he’s a unicorn again, muscles braced for a burst of energy.

  Melltra flaps her wings and roars. Her farffles jump toward us.

  Herockghyrra roars back, grabs Brett, and jumps through the double doors to the Great Hall. She swats the first few farffles out of the way with her tail. Within a bound, she’s airborne, cradling Brett’s limp form in her claws. Her wings strain to carry her and her burden upward.

  Trygg bends a foreleg, and I scramble onto his back and grip his mane. I have some experience riding, as Dad has a large stable at Largone Castle, and horses are still the most reliable way to travel Averell besides the gnomes’ underground rail system.

  But I’ve never ridden a unicorn before. You don’t ride a unicorn. They aren’t pets. They aren’t beasts of burden.

  I bend low and grip Trygg’s ribcage with my legs as he launches himself from a standstill nearly to a gallop. The first few farffles don’t have time to bite him as he whips past.

  We hurtle into the purple smoke. Trygg staggers, snorting and huffing. I gasp and cough, my own lungs burning. It must be so much worse for Trygg with his bigger lungs and wider nostrils meant for outrunning the wind.

  He staggers again, and I feel his strength giving out. My own grip on his mane is loosening. Tears stream from my eyes. When I cough, globs of drool and snot spatter into the air.

  Trygg sinks to his knees. I should slide off, but I can’t seem to find the strength to move. I’m slumped across his neck.

  Perhaps Melltra plans to kills us now. Let us suffocate in this noxious gas now that her plan has failed.

  There’s something fitting, dying with Trygg like this. Our escapades when we were young probably should’ve gotten one or both of us killed a time or two. I guess I never expected this to be the one that does it.

  But that’s the thing with death. It rarely comes along when you expect it.

  “Trygg...I...” I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say before my throat closes.

  He changes back into a boy, and we’re lying side by side on the stone floor, coughing and struggling to breathe. He pats my shoulder, his mouth working like he is trying to make a joke even now.

  This is it. We aren’t going to make it.

  Water erupts from the floor all around us, blasting the purple smoke until it, the farffles, and Melltra are pushed back.

  I gasp in my first decent breath in too many minutes as four naiads form out of the water around us. Two of them help Trygg stagger to his feet while the other two keep the wall of water surging around us.

  Another column of water bursts from the floor to Trygg’s right and solidifies into a grinning Nella. She wraps her arm around the waist of the naiad next to her. “This is my dad.”

  “Pleased to meet you.” I give a bow, and Trygg bobs his head. I’m not sure if I am technically supposed to bow to him, but at this point, he’s saving our lives. Protocol doesn’t really apply anymore.

  The wall of water holds, but purple smoke now curls through it. The naiads’ faces are taut. I turn back to Nella’s dad. “I think we’d better hurry up the escape.”

  Her dad nods. “We sent a messenger to Largone Castle, but he was unable to locate your mother, and your father has already left for the Affalla Fields to face the dragons.”

  The Affalla Fields. They are several hours walking distance from here, and none of the gnome underground railways run from the desolate Eekrok Castle to the Fields.

  If Dad is already engaged in battle with the dragons, there’s no way the naiad messenger will reach him, nor will Dad be able to stop the battle on the word of a single naiad. The dragons won’t listen.

  All that can stop the war now is Herockghyrra, Trygg, and I getting there as quickly as possible.

  “Thank you for all you’ve done.” I give him my best princess smile. Not the fake one. The genuine one, just a bit more dignified than the one I wear around my friends.

  Nella’s dad, Nella, and the other naiad on Trygg’s left turn to join the two naiads holding back Melltra and her evil farffle minions. They don’t have to explain the plan. It’s pretty simple. When they clear a path, Trygg runs and I hang on.

  Trygg turns back into a unicorn, and I clamber on his back once again. My nose is still clogged and dripping mucus from the purple smoke. Shrugging, I wipe the snot on my sleeve and fist my fingers tighter in Trygg’s mane. A girl has to do what a girl has to do sometimes.

  Trygg snorts, spattering the ground with horse mucus. His deep breath fills his rib cage between my legs.

  Nella and her dad twine ropes of water around their arms. Lifting their arms, they shoot the water into the ranks of farffles. One huge shaft of
water blasts into Melltra’s chest, pressing her back against the wall.

  An alley opens with walls of water keeping the farffles at bay.

  Trygg lunges into a full gallop within two strides. I cling to his back, gripping with my legs. For a moment, I feel myself sliding, and I tighten my hold. I can’t let myself fall off.

  The opening for the main doors looms in front of us. Trygg bursts through and dashes across the courtyard to the hole in the outer wall where the gates had once guarded the castle.

  As we gallop through, a roar sounds overhead. I glance up and spot Herockghyrra swooping low. I risk letting go with one hand and point ahead of us. “The Affalla Fields!”

  Herockghyrra dives lower, and I shout again. This time she bobs her head and sweeps her wings to push herself higher into the sky. I’ve always heard dragons have good hearing. Hopefully that’s true.

  Trygg stretches out into a ground-eating run, every muscle straining and surging in a powerful rhythm underneath me. I lean low over his neck and try to match his rhythm.

  I glance over my shoulder. The naiads must have retreated into the ground. A swarm of farffles pours from the hole in the abandoned castle’s wall.

  This time, we can’t let the farffles catch us. We have a war to stop.

  Mucus streams from Trygg’s nostrils, blown out with each breath. Above us, Herockghyrra’s wings beat, even though I can barely hear the sound beyond the thunder of Trygg’s hooves. She still grips Brett’s limp body in her claws.

  We stay in Herockghyrra’s shadow as we race across the meadows and fields. Trygg is running flat out, faster than a horse on Earth can run.

  I glance over my shoulder again, but I can’t see the farffles. Maybe we lost them. Maybe we haven’t. I don’t dare tell Trygg to slow down.

  Trygg charges on. Up a hill, down the far side. Up the next hill. On and on without pause.

  A horse on Earth would have slowed, but Trygg keeps galloping full tilt, each muscle surging in perfect rhythm.

  Overhead, Herockghyrra beats her wings, dropping lower in the sky. Brett’s weight must be dragging her down. She isn’t a large dragon, and he’s a limp burden in her claws.

  In another mile, Trygg staggers. I can’t help a small scream as he lurches forward. He catches himself and continues galloping. But his stride is more strained. The surge of his muscles uneven beneath me.

  Herockghyrra drops lower. Low enough I can hear the whump of her wings even above Trygg’s pounding hooves.

  “The Affalla Fields are only a mile or so ahead.” I lean forward to shout as close to Trygg’s ear as I can get. I’m not sure if he hears me.

  He doesn’t slow. Clear liquid flies from his nostrils with each heave of his lungs. What if he hurts himself? Strains a muscle? I’ve heard that race horses can literally run until their heart gives out or bursts. What if Trygg does that now?

  Herockghyrra is soaring only about thirty feet above the ground. It’s a good thing there are no forests anywhere near here or her wings would clip the trees.

  A tall hill looms in front of us. Trygg lunges up the hill. He’s gasping for breath, his rib cage heaving beneath me.

  Herockghyrra clears the hill by only twenty feet. Trygg crests the hill in her shadow.

  A valley spreads out below us, the grass a dark, vibrant green. But now the green is nearly covered on our left with my dad’s army and his unicorn allies. Blue and green sparkling domes cover the front of the army, holding back the fire from several swooping dragons. More dragons in all the colors of the rainbow from an iridescent red to a deep gold and even a burnished black swarm the blue-purple sky overheard.

  Somehow, Trygg lengthens his stride once again. Globs of mucus tinged pink with blood snort into the air and spatter his neck and me. Sweat coats his neck and shoulder, flecking white and cream against dark, soaked fur. My slacks are soaked through with Trygg’s sweat, my fingers slick against Trygg’s mane.

  The Flame of the dragons, a huge red dragon, dives toward where my dad stands next to the Stallion of the unicorns. She opens her mouth and a jet of flame streams toward them.

  At the last minute, a light blue dome spreads above them, shielding them from the flames. Ellis Melkor, the castle magician crouches next to Dad, his hands raised above his head.

  Herockghyrra flaps her giant wings and shoots ahead of Trygg and me. She stretches out her neck and lets out a roar that rings in my ears.

  The Flame’s fire cuts off as if doused by a firehose. She wheels and her slitted eyes appear to focus on Herockghyrra. The rest of the dragons cut off their fire as well and turn.

  Herockghyrra flaps one last time, glides closer to the ground, and crashes on her side on the grass, turning back to her silvaran form. Brett’s limp form rolls several times before he comes to rest on his back.

  Trygg staggers the last few yards and collapses to his front knees. I slide off and let myself fall. I land on my back on the spongy grass as Trygg changes into a silvaran and flops to the ground.

  Chapter 19

  We Return to Reality, Sort Of

  “Trygg?” I crawl to his side. “Are you all right?”

  He rolls, heaving panting breaths. Blood trickles from his nose. But he nods.

  “You should get up and walk. All your muscles will cramp if you don’t.” I grip his arm and pull.

  He struggles to his feet and leans on me. His skin drips with sweat, his clothes and hair soaked. He reeks, but I don’t pull away. He deserves my help after he carried me for miles.

  Herockghyrra pushes to her feet and sweeps her hair back from her sweat-soaked face. Beside her, Brett is still and white as dandelion fluff. I want to check for a pulse, but we have to make sure the war doesn’t start again first.

  The Flame lands and changes into a woman. She races forward a few steps, then halts a few feet from Herockghyrra. Herockghyrra steps forward and gives her mother a restrained, polite hug. I’m not sure how demonstrative they might have been without all of us watching, but with a large audience, I’m surprised Herockghyrra and her mother even hugged as much as they had.

  “Ami!”

  I turn and let go of Trygg just in time to face Dad when he wraps me in a tight hug. I press my face against his shoulder.

  We’re safe. Melltra can’t touch us now. We stopped the war. And Brett will be fine once we get him back to Earth shortly.

  For the first time in several days, I don’t have to be the adult. I can be a fifteen-year-old kid again, letting my dad make the decisions. I’m more than happy to let him.

  “Ami.” My dad’s voice breaks, and that brings a lump to my own throat. I’ve never heard Dad’s voice sound like that.

  Well, maybe once before. The time he’d told us as much as he ever would about his parents’ deaths.

  “I love you.” I can’t remember the last time I said that to Dad. I should say it more. To all of my family. “I’m sorry.”

  Dad pulls away. “Don’t ever do that again. You’re in big trouble.”

  “I know. And I’ll take whatever punishment you give me.” I glance over my shoulder.

  Herockghyrra talks with her mother, both of them poised once again. Trygg has an arm over his uncle’s shoulders while his dad wipes the blood from his nose. Both Trygg’s dad and uncle are speaking so rapidly I doubt even Trygg can make out what they’re saying. It will only get worse when Trygg returns to the rest of the herd and gets an earful from his mom.

  I turn back to Dad. “All of us were captured by Melltra Larrona. She has enchanted a swarm of farffles to do her bidding. They bite until they knock someone out. And, worse, she has figured out a way to enchant a farffle into the form of a silvaran.”

  “She did...what?” Dad blinks and sweeps a glance around before focusing back on me.

  “She started this war by kidnapping all of us and angering the Flame. She planned to kill each of us one by one to aggravate the war when she deemed necessary.” I point back the way we came. “She’s holed up in the ruins of E
ekrok Castle.”

  Dad straightens, his face hardening into his kingly expression. “If we hurry, we can attack her now.”

  He strides past me and meets the Flame and the Stallion as they both step forward, probably after getting similar information from Herockghyrra and Trygg. It isn’t exactly an alliance. More a ceasefire.

  Within minutes, Dad barks orders, arranging the war party to go to Eekrok Castle and a few men to escort me home.

  The Flame and her dragons launch into the sky, headed for Eekrok Castle. As my dad, his men, and the unicorns set off after the dragons, I turn toward home.

  I SIT ON ONE OF THE kitchen chairs next to Ryan’s bed in the farmhouse in Michigan. Brett lies still, buried in the covers on the bed. After several hours in Michigan, the color has almost returned to his face.

  Mom also perches on a kitchen chair we carried into the bedroom. As soon as I had stumbled through the portal dragging Brett and explained what had happened over in Averell in the time since Dad sent them to Michigan to be safe, Gary went through the portal to assist Dad. Mom sent Ryan off with the car on some errand or other. I wasn’t sure what errand was so important that it had to be done at two in the morning, but I didn’t ask.

  In the hours we’d waited, I’d been lectured by Mom for wandering off. I didn’t even try to argue. I shouldn’t have done what I did.

  Brett stirs and groans. He blinks, staring up at the ceiling.

  “Are you all right?” I lean closer, gripping the edge of my chair.

  He sits up and rubs at his temple. “I think so. Are we home?”

  Home, as in Michigan. I nod. “We made it, barely. You were more dead than alive, but a few hours here has turned you around.”

  Mom stands. “You’ll probably feel like you’re recovering from the flu for the next few days, but you’ll be fine now. When you’re able, you probably should eat and drink something.”

  Brett blinks at her. “Mrs. Corin. Or should that be Your Majesty?”