Dragonslayer

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Dragonslayer Page 13

by Tui T. Sutherland


  “That’s truuuuue,” Crow said slowly. “It would be very enriching for everyone if certain parties returned with dragon treasure and shared it with the correct people. But if the expedition were unsuccessful … that would be such a shame. Such a shame.”

  “Indeed,” said Gorge. “If our intrepid explorers snuck off to the dragon palace but did not return with treasure …”

  “I imagine the dragons would require a sacrifice,” Crow said. “A big, big sacrifice.”

  “Wait,” said Leaf. “So you do want us to steal treasure? Even though you forbade it?”

  Hypocrisy from a dragonmancer? Wren muttered. I’m shocked. SHOCKED.

  “Shhh,” said Crow. “Your friend set this in motion. This is all his fault. These are the consequences. I only see one happy ending here.”

  “We can catch Mushroom if you give us a chance,” Rowan said quickly. “Before he even gets to the palace.”

  “No, no, no,” said Gorge. “If you’re going all that way, someone should go into the palace, steal something, and bring it back to us. Otherwise, I’m afraid something terrible will happen.”

  “Indeed. They want a stranger this time,” Crow said in an eerie voice. Her eyes were unfocused, as though another story was unfolding in a mirror of the world between her and Leaf and Rowan. “Yes. They want an outsider who brought danger to the village. Someone with too many questions. I sense this person draws the dragons’ wrath … their WRATH.”

  She’s talking about Grove, Leaf realized. But surely she doesn’t mean . . she can’t mean what it sounds like.

  “What do you mean by a sacrifice?” Leaf asked. “Some of his goats?”

  “Has it been that long since our last one?” Crow murmured, reaching a skeletal finger to trail down Leaf’s cheek. He squelched his shudder and held himself rigidly still. “I remember it like it was yesterday … I know you remember, don’t you, dear?” she said to Rowan.

  “We can stop Mushroom,” Rowan said, talking over her last words. “And we can bring you treasure. Let us go after him and we’ll make it happen.”

  “Hmmm,” Gorge said. “I think we need our sacrifice standing by, just in case.” He beckoned to Leaf’s fellow apprentice, who had been watching from the flower beds while trying very hard to look as though he hadn’t noticed the other dragonmancers. Tadpole approached nervously, glancing between the four of them.

  “Go find young Grove for me,” Gorge said. “Take him to the dragonmancers’ council hut and make sure he stays there to wait for us. Bring a few men from the village guard if you think you’ll need help. We’ll be there soon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tadpole said, bowing a few hundred times before hurrying away.

  “You don’t have to do this!” Rowan said desperately.

  “We didn’t have to,” Crow corrected her. “But thanks to young Mushroom’s greed, now we do. Grove will stay with us. All you have to do is follow your friend and return with some treasure, and everyone will be so happy. Ever ever so happy.”

  Rowan looked as though she’d been snared in a spiderweb as Crow and Gorge turned to walk away.

  “We have to go now,” Rowan said to Leaf, glancing up and down the quiet path. “Do you need anything from in there?” She nodded at the house.

  Leaf wished he could run in, grab the map off the wall, and escape, but he might as well wish for a flying carpet to the dragons’ palace. “Nothing,” he said, swinging himself over the fence. “Give me a sword and I’m ready.”

  He was not planning on coming back to Trout’s house. Whatever happened at the palace, whether he killed ten dragons or only one, he wasn’t going to come moseying back to the drudgery of being a dragonmancer’s apprentice afterward. His life as a dragonslayer was about to begin.

  They took the long way through the woods to avoid any townspeople. When they arrived at the schoolhouse, Cranberry and Thyme were standing outside it, looking confused.

  “Rowan!” Cranberry said as they ran up to her. “A group of villagers just came and took Grove away — we don’t know why. Wait, you do — what’s happened?” she added, seeing the look on Rowan’s face.

  “Crow and Gorge found out that Mushroom is on his way to steal treasure,” Rowan said. “We have to follow him and come back with treasure for them, or they’re going to sacrifice Grove.”

  The horror and enormity of that exploded in Leaf’s head. He’d been trying so hard to convince himself that he’d misunderstood, that none of this could be happening, that Crow and Gorge had been talking about stealing more of Grove’s goats instead.

  “Do you really think that’s what she meant?” Leaf cried. “No one would let them do that! We don’t sacrifice people to the dragons!”

  “Of course we don’t,” Cranberry said, but Rowan looked physically sick, like she really believed the dragonmancers were capable of such a thing.

  “All I know for sure is they took Grove,” she said. “And I know he isn’t safe until we get back here and pay them off.”

  “Then let’s go,” Leaf said. Whatever the dragonmancers meant, whether Rowan was right or not, they still had to catch Mushroom and get the map back. “Cranberry, I need a sword.”

  Cranberry led the way to their secret stash of weapons and handed him a sheathed sword, which he buckled around his back. Two more daggers went into his boots, and then he was off and sprinting through the forest ahead of everyone else.

  He knew they would follow him, even though he was ten years younger than they all were. One upside of putting himself in danger to copy the map was that now it was kind of etched in his brain. He didn’t like the idea of relying on his memory, but he was pretty sure it was all there: every careful line and each tiny note, painstakingly redrawn. He also knew that the dragon palace was north of the village, near the source of the river, so following the river would make logical sense. But he wasn’t sure whether Mushroom would think of it. Doing the smart, logical thing was clearly not Mushroom’s strong suit.

  They traveled north all the rest of that day and half the night, only stopping because Thyme finally fell over and said he couldn’t go any farther without some sleep. Leaf offered to take the first watch and spent most of it climbing to the highest spots around them, looking for any sign of a campfire that might be Mushroom. But there was nothing. No sign of him anywhere.

  The same was true on the second day, and the third. They climbed along the ridges of the mountains, keeping the river in sight, with the peaks slashing sharply in the sky above them like dragon claws. Dragons the color of flames flew overhead day and night, bursting through the clouds or swooping suddenly over the next peak and sending them all diving for cover.

  They found remains of campfires and once a discarded fishing net, but none of them looked new enough to be Mushroom’s. He was nowhere to be found.

  On the fourth morning, they came out of a long stretch of trees onto a section of boulders, and there it was at last: the palace of the mountain dragons.

  Leaf had been full of wild energy for most of the trip, running on adrenaline and destiny. But as they all squashed themselves into the shadow of a boulder and lay down to stare out at the palace, for the first time he felt a glimmer of fear.

  It was so enormous. He’d kind of known that from the scale of the blueprint, but he hadn’t really absorbed it before. The palace looked like it had swept down from the sky and eaten most of the mountain. Towers seemed to grow out of the gray-black rocks; every ledge was an entrance to the caves and halls carved out of the mountainside. Even from their vantage point, they could feel the crackling heat and smell the trails of smoke that hung in the air like clouds.

  And something that wasn’t in the blueprint: The palace was swarming with dragons.

  Leaf had never imagined there were so many dragons in the world. From his vantage point, he was pretty sure he could see more dragons than there were people in all of Talisman. This was more than a village; this was a city of dragons.

  Dragons crawled over the
mountain, building new parts of the palace or repairing collapsed towers. Dragons flew from ledge to ledge; dragons soared in from afar to drop bodies of other dragons in the smoking ravine along one side of the palace. Dragons sat on the highest points of the castle walls, spreading their wings to sun themselves.

  How could there be so many dragons in one place?

  Despite all his strength and skill, Leaf felt as small as an ant. An ant who dreamed of killing a whole city of dragons.

  He spotted the prison that had been in the blueprint — the tall columns set off to the side, around some kind of arena. He could see more dragon wings glittering from the top of each column, and a sort of web between them all. He wasn’t quite sure how a prison like that could hold dragons — but that was one of those mysteries he was perfectly happy to leave unsolved.

  “Yeesh,” Thyme whispered beside him.

  “I know,” Cranberry whispered from Leaf’s other side. “Like, couldn’t you be a little more impressive, dragons?”

  Rowan snorted a nervous laugh. “Do you remember the ways in?” she asked Leaf.

  Leaf took a deep breath, calling the blueprint back into his mind. There weren’t a lot of entrances at ground level, since dragons usually arrived from the sky. They would have to climb half the mountain — with dragons flying all around them — to get to the lowest entry point, which was where a trash chute let out from the palace above. The note beside it had said, Not an ideal option.

  It might be easier (and less smelly) to go in through the prison arena, which had a low entrance … but was also in full view of all the dragon prisoners and any passing guards.

  He studied the palace, mapping it onto the blueprint in his mind. If the prison was there and those two towers were there, then the trash chute hole should be …

  Leaf reached over Cranberry and grabbed Rowan’s arm. “Look!” he whispered frantically.

  She raised herself onto her elbows and cupped her hands around her eyes.

  Not far below the hole, a small shape was making his way up the side of the mountain. His gray clothing blended in with the rocks and smoke, and he was inching upward at a snail’s pace, creeping from shadow to shadow. Leaf wasn’t sure if that was Mushroom being cautious, or Mushroom being slow and tired.

  “Oh no,” Thyme whispered.

  “He must have stolen the map a whole day before we noticed,” Cranberry said. “He had more of a head start than we thought.”

  “What do we do now?” Leaf asked. “It’s too late to stop him, isn’t it?”

  Rowan didn’t answer. They watched in silence as the figure climbed higher and higher, and then finally, with agonizing slowness, pulled himself into the trash chute and vanished into the dark interior of the palace.

  “I guess now we wait and see,” Rowan said finally. “Either he’ll come out alive or he won’t.”

  “And if he does,” Thyme said, “he might need our help to get away safely.”

  Leaf didn’t say it, but he knew everyone must be thinking the same thing: There was no way a human could walk into that palace and come out alive. The map might help him, but the odds were far in the dragons’ favor.

  That didn’t mean Leaf wouldn’t try. He wished he had the map, but he was going into that dragon palace, one way or another. This was something he had to do.

  He would take at least one dragon life for Wren’s, even if it meant certain death.

  “All you have to do is watch the sky,” Foxglove said for the eightieth time. “Stay right here and don’t move. If you see a dragon, remember everything about it, and tell us later, when we come back for you. Do NOT leave this tree on your own.”

  “Oh my goodness, we know!” Daffodil said, laughing. “We’ll stay put.”

  “We promise,” Ivy added. She wound one arm around the branch above her.

  “Violet?” Foxglove asked sternly.

  “I promise, too!” Violet rolled her eyes and shoved herself up to a higher limb.

  “If you three misbehave, Commander Brook will never let any fourteen-year-olds outside alone ever again,” Foxglove said. “Think of your responsibility to future annoying teenagers.”

  “It’s all we ever think of,” Daffodil said sweetly.

  “We’ll be right here when you get back,” Ivy said.

  Foxglove made a hm sound and swung down out of the tree. Squirrel and two others were waiting for her on the ground, ready to escort a fruit-gathering party. The Wingwatchers would keep an eye out for dragons, help everyone hide if it was necessary, and bring them home safely.

  That’s what Wingwatchers do, Ivy thought, watching them leave. They’re protectors and researchers. They’re not secret revolutionaries. They’re not, no matter what Violet thinks. She hadn’t seen any signs of a secret conspiracy during their first year of official training — but then again, she had to be the last Wingwatcher anyone would trust with information like that.

  Ivy, Violet, and Daffodil were only skygazing today. This was their third time officially skygazing outside, but the first time they were being left alone to do it. Ivy had practiced a lot with Foxglove, but most of the adult Wingwatchers didn’t know that, so she had to pretend it was all new and exciting to her.

  Then again, she wasn’t really pretending. It was still pretty exciting. She could forget all her underground city worries when she watched for dragons.

  Violet had seen a sand dragon once, on a secret trip outside with Ivy and Foxglove, but Daffodil still hadn’t seen any, and she was infinitely outraged about that.

  Ivy rested her back against the trunk and stared up into the blue sky.

  “So,” Violet said as soon as the Wingwatchers and fruit gatherers were out of sight, “I haven’t had ANY luck with either secret. Have you?”

  “No, I haven’t,” said Daffodil. “Although I kind of forgot we were supposed to be working on that.”

  Violet sighed expressively. “Ivy?”

  “I asked my mother again about Uncle Stone,” Ivy said. “But she said I’m still too young to hear about it.”

  “By all the dragons,” Violet said. “How bad is this secret if fourteen is too young to know it?!”

  “I don’t think it’s because she’s fourteen,” Daffodil offered. “I think it’s because she’s Ivy, and her mom never wants her to know anything.”

  Ivy couldn’t argue with that. There were lots of things she only knew because Violet and Daffodil had explained them to her.

  “I haven’t even tried finding anything about the, um, the other secret,” Ivy said. “I figure obviously no one will talk to me about it.” And maybe I don’t really want them to.

  “No one should talk to anyone about it!” Daffodil said. “It’s way too dangerous!”

  “Hey, you’re the one whose life was RUINED when Pine was banished,” Violet pointed out. “I’m basically doing this for you.”

  “You know nothing about love, Violet!” Daffodil cried. “And you are not doing this for me at all; you’re doing it because you’re nosy and can’t stand it when other people know things that you don’t.”

  “Only when they’re important!” Violet said. “I thought you’d be all about starting a revolution. Causing chaos is literally your favorite thing.”

  “I don’t have a problem with chaos. Or revolution! I have a problem with one of my best friends acting like an idiot. You can’t be sure all the Wingwatchers are part of this imaginary secret revolution. If you say the wrong thing to the wrong person, they could turn you in for treason, and then you’ll be banished, and then it’ll suddenly be a lot quieter and less stressful around here, so actually, never mind, you keep being you.”

  Ivy laughed. Out here, with the wind blowing in her hair and the leaves rustling around them and dragons somewhere in the sky, even her friends bickering over dangerous conspiracies felt joyful.

  It was still weird to see Daffodil without a speck of yellow on her anywhere — weird, also, to see Violet running through the woods and jumping over falle
n trees instead of reading a book. But weird in a good way. Ivy was so, so happy to be outside, in the amazing sunlit world, with them.

  Even though they were talking about a revolution against her dad, today it just … didn’t seem real. It was hard to believe that people could be so mad at each other when there was all this sky and millions of trees and towers of beautiful gold-lined clouds overhead.

  And in those clouds …

  “Hey,” she whispered. “Do you guys see that?”

  It was so far up that she wasn’t even sure it was a dragon, except that there wasn’t anything else it could be. Birds didn’t reflect the sunlight in little flashes; no bird was that big or the color of diamonds, not at the same time.

  Daffodil inhaled sharply and clambered onto the branch right next to Ivy so she could rest her head on Ivy’s shoulder and look in the same direction.

  “Daffodil!” Violet whispered sternly. “You’re not supposed to MOVE when you’re skygazing!”

  “Violet!” Daffodil whispered back in the same tone. “You’re not supposed to BE ANNOYING when you’re skygazing!”

  Violet snorted and cupped her hands around her eyes to stare at the distant shape.

  “You really aren’t supposed to move,” Ivy whispered softly in Daffodil’s ear.

  “Shhh,” Daffodil whispered back. She squeezed Ivy’s hand. “My first dragon!”

  Ivy more than understood what she was feeling. She still felt it, a little thrill all the way along her skin, every time she saw one.

  The dragon circled, swooping lower and lower. It was flying in an odd, loopy way, jerking sideways, then flapping back, then jerking sideways again. It kept shaking its whole body like a wet dog trying to get dry.

  “Huh,” Daffodil whispered. “I thought they’d be a little more graceful.”

  “I think there’s something wrong with this one,” Ivy whispered back.

  “Quit having conversations without me,” Violet hissed from her higher branch.

  “Shhhh,” Daffodil said to her with a supercilious face.

 

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