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Dragon Child

Page 14

by Elana A. Mugdan


  Keriya did so, and Max let out a disbelieving laugh. “You can’t be considering this.”

  “There’s no way of knowing,” Seba replied, speaking over the prince. “We’d have to look for the werelion, and I mean really look for him. We don’t have your friend to call him to us.”

  “Well, where are the mountains?” Keriya pressed.

  “That’s them, right there.” The princess pointed west at a rocky ridge. “They’re the tallest in the region. Impressive, no?”

  “Mm,” Keriya said in a non-committal voice.

  Despite everything, Thorion had to hide a smile. Keriya had grown up in the shadow of Shivnath’s Mountains. The Naetren peaks were no more than mere foothills to her eyes.

  Seba looked at Thorion. “So, you’ll try it?”

  Thorion didn’t know the right choice—if there was one. He tilted his head at Keriya, encouraging her to make the final call, but she hesitated. He could feel fear constricting her. It reached through the bond and latched onto him, twining around his innards like stranglethorn vines.

  He knew that fear. It was the same fear he grappled with daily. She was paralyzed, deathly afraid she’d make the wrong choice.

  he thought, sending her a mental image of a summer day when the two of them had trekked through Doryn Fen,

  Keriya smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. “That’s it, then. We’ll try to find the werelion.”

  The following morning, they turned away from the Erastate and headed into the Naetren Mountains. Surprisingly, it was warmer here. This was confusing until they crested a low ridge and found a valley filled with hot springs. Steam wafted from the bubbling aqua pools, making the air heavy and moist.

  Keriya laughed aloud when she saw the springs. Thorion reflected sadly that it seemed an age had passed since she’d last laughed.

  “Look—no snow,” she exclaimed. Indeed, the springs and the steam had melted all traces of white, revealing rocky land dotted with tufts of grass and reeds.

  “Let’s stop for lunch,” said Max. “We could use a break.”

  Thorion flew off to hunt while the humans entered the valley. He angled toward the higher peaks, hoping he might find something more substantial than the rabbits that lived in the flatlands. A smudge of emerald on the misty Naetren slopes slowly resolved into a pine forest. Warm updrafts from the springs filled his leathery wings.

  He couldn’t find anything larger than a red bearcat, but his spirits lifted. However, as he angled south to return to his friends, something caught his eye—dark specks drifting across the Galantrian marshlands.

  When he returned to the valley with his kill, he saw that Keriya had unlaced her boots and was soaking her travel-worn feet in the shallows of a gurgling spring. Max had made a fire and unpacked their waterproof bedrolls, and Seba was relaxing on one of them.

  “We’re being followed,” Thorion hissed, dropping the bearcat. “There are shadowbeasts behind us.”

  “How many, and how far?” Max asked.

  “A good-sized pack,” said Thorion. “Perhaps half a day’s journey from us.”

  Suddenly there was a sizzling noise. A spout of water blasted into the air behind them, making all of them jump. A breeze caught the spray and carried the droplets to them, showering them with a light mist.

  “Just a geyser,” Seba whispered shakily.

  “We can’t stay here,” said Keriya, her face darkening. “We need to stay ahead of the shadowbeasts.”

  Thorion noted she’d reached for a sword that was no longer at her side. She patted her hip as if missing its presence, and another guilty pang tore at his heart. He longed to talk to her about the ancient blade—but he couldn’t do it now. He had to concentrate on solving problems, not adding more to his plate.

  The next day they passed a gap in the large, blunt boulders at the crest of the mountains and entered the basin. Here it seemed like spring—pine trees gave way to fresh-smelling yellow grass in the shallow valley. Birds sang overhead and a stream pooled into a large hot spring that warmed the area.

  Keriya stared around in wonderment. Thorion was pleased that his human could still find awe in the simple beauty of nature. Yet there was sadness in her—sadness that they had to keep moving, sadness that they had been robbed of the luxury of being able to stop and enjoy places like this. She’d envisioned a different future when she’d believed she had defeated Necrovar.

  Thorion hung his head. Keriya tried so hard to be brave, feeding a guttering fire of hope that burned in her heart. He wished he could reach out and take that hope, as he had when he’d first met her, but it wasn’t that simple anymore. Emotions bloomed organically within him now, emotions that kept him miserable.

  Suddenly he froze. He gaped at his feet, disbelieving horror swelling within him.

 

  “Nothing,” Thorion muttered, flashing Keriya a quick smile. She smiled back and continued onward. He let the humans get ahead of him before returning his attention to his feet. Raising one shaking paw, he inspected his fingers.

  Thin black veins ran along the tips of his pearly talons. The stains were subtle, barely visible, but the fact they were there at all was cause for panic. This was the next stage of his disease: the darksalm was showing on his body.

  His chest hurt. It was like a tiny, rabid creature was chewing on his heart. Necrovar’s hold on him was growing.

  Night fell and the stars emerged one by one as the group traversed the wide basin. Cool gusts blew between the peaks, meeting in the meadow and whirling in eddies. Moonbirds called to each other, their cries floating through the silence. The humans stopped when darkness had fully fallen.

  “I don’t think we should light a fire,” said Keriya. “It’ll serve as a beacon to any shadowbeasts who catch up to us.” She was agitated, peering across the grassland as she fiddled with the ends of her sleeves. Thorion suspected she was sensing his inner turmoil.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t stop,” she continued. “Now that we’re here, we should look for the werelion.”

  “You need rest,” Max told her.

  “I’m not tired.”

  “Keriya, be quiet,” Thorion breathed. A strange, unfamiliar scent had reached his nose. It was musky, saturated with the heady fragrance of strange magic.

  Fear surged from Keriya and flooded through their bond. She turned to Max and Seba and whispered, “We’re under attack.”

  It was as if they’d been waiting for something terrible to happen. Max drew his shortsword, and a breeze stirred the long grasses as he wielded an airmagic spell. Thorion crouched, every muscle in his lithe body tensed, ready for battle. With his sharp vision, he discerned a shadow bobbing across the meadow.

  “There,” he said, nodding toward the shape.

  The shadow froze. When it wasn’t moving it blended into its surroundings. Thorion stood stock-still in the starlight. He scanned the grasses, but he had lost his enemy’s place.

  Then a faint whisper reached him. He looked sharply to his right, reaching for his source on instinct. Yet he did not wield, for what he saw was not what he’d been expecting.

  Crouching in the grass, regarding him with gleaming yellow eyes, was a man. But—it couldn’t be a man. Though his body was human in shape, he was covered with short, tawny fur, and he smelled like no human Thorion had ever encountered. A dark, tangled mane stirred atop his head, caught in Max’s spell.

  “Welcome to my valley. I am Uhs.” His nose was dark, broad, and flat. Silver whiskers twitched on his cheeks, sensing the night air. “Very rude of you, isn’t it, to threaten someone in his own home?” He nodded at Max’s sword, which was pointed at his chest.

  “You surprised us,” Thorion said slowly, tilting his head in consideration of the strange beast. “We thought you might be . . . something e
lse. I’m afraid we’ve grown used to being attacked.”

  “What a sorry thing to grow used to.” Uhs raised his leg and used it to scratch behind his ear. He wore a tattered breechcloth, and there were strings of colored beads and sharp stones around his neck.

  Thorion took a breath to compose himself. “I am Thorion Sveltorious. These are my companions, Keriya Soulstar, Maxton Windharte, and Sebaris Wavewould. We’re here because—”

  “I know why you’ve come. I sensed you from leagues away. Never encountered such a mess in all my lives.” Quick as a flash, Uhs scampered nearer on all fours. “You are a dragon,” he observed.

  “Yes,” Thorion agreed, disquieted by Uhs’s peculiar manner.

  Uhs trained his gaze upon Max next. “You are the prince of the air kingdom. Lots of things wrong with you, but I’m not about to get mixed up in any of that.”

  Max didn’t respond. He tightened his grip on his sword and shifted his weight so he was standing closer to Seba. She huddled behind him, speechless for once.

  “You are a galancrelas,” Uhs said authoritatively, addressing the princess. A black-tufted tail flicked behind him. “Tricky business, what you’ve got there. Too late to do anything for you.”

  Seba’s face drained of its color and she shrank away from his words.

  “But you,” Uhs continued, looking at Keriya, “I don’t know what you are. I’m not sure I can do anything to heal you. My apologies.”

  “What?” Keriya scowled. “I’m not the one who’s sick. I’m fine.”

  “You’re fine, are you?” Uhs scooted closer to Keriya, sniffing at the hem of her cloak. “You don’t seem fine to me. Oh, well I suppose you do seem fine, but that’s aside from the point, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sick,” Thorion interjected. “And if you’re who I think you are, I need your help.”

  Uhs halted his examination of Keriya and looked at Thorion. “Who do you think I am?”

  “The werelion-healer.”

  Uhs blinked at him, neither affirming nor refuting his identity.

  Thorion took the creature’s silence as an invitation to continue. “I don’t know if you’ve heard what’s happening in Allentria, but Necrovar has returned. He’s poisoned me with a substance called darksalm. Can you heal me?”

  “Not sure.” Uhs scuttled over and began prowling around Thorion. “My magic only works when I am fully transformed, which is at the height of the Oldmoon cycle.”

  Thorion’s brows contracted. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “When the moon is new, I have the appearance of a man,” Uhs explained. “When the moon is full, I am a lion. It is only at the full moon when I can wield my most powerful magic.”

  “The Oldmoon is waning,” said Keriya. “Are you saying we have to wait here for a whole month?”

  Thorion thought to her. He reflected on Uhs’s remarks, the assertion that there was something wrong with Max, and the implications that both Seba and Keriya were sick. Was any of that worth worrying about?

  It probably was, but now wasn’t the moment to do so. Thorion was plenty worried about himself, and it was an all-consuming worry that didn’t allow room to think of anyone else.

  “If you wish to stay until the Oldmoon is full, then I shall study each of you,” said Uhs. “Perhaps in a few suns I’ll have a better sense of which of you I can heal and which of you are doomed.”

  “We accept your offer, Uhs,” said Thorion, bowing his head.

  Uhs nodded and stalked off through the grass. “Follow,” he growled.

  Keriya started after the werelion, but Max caught her arm. Thorion got the sense that he should give them some privacy; he hastened after the healer, but his sensitive ears picked up their whispered conversation.

  “Are you really going to do this?” Max hissed.

  “Thorion wants to,” said Keriya. “We have no choice.”

  “You can choose to take responsibility as his rheenar and make the decision for him.” Max had lowered his voice further, but Thorion caught every word. “You can make him go to the Fironem—”

  “I won’t make him do anything,” Keriya growled.

  “So you’re going to waste a month here with that creature? He’s a fraud.”

  “I don’t think so,” came Seba’s shaky voice.

  “What happens when we need this month back?” Max argued. “What happens if Uhs can’t help? What happens when the time we spend here ends up being the difference between Thorion’s life and death?”

  Keriya yanked her arm from the prince’s grasp. She strode past Thorion without looking at him, and he didn’t try to reach out to her.

  Neither of them wanted to admit that Max had voiced their worst fear.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Hope is the dream of a soul awake.”

  ~ Adira Zyrblaze, Seventh Age

  Uhs’s assertion that there was something wrong with Keriya had torn open old wounds. She’d only just begun to believe her own lies that she was fine the way she was. Hearing the werelion suggest anything to the contrary was the last thing she needed.

  The werelion led them west across the basin until they reached a copse of featherpines. A sandy cave nestled there, dug out of the earthen ledge beneath the trees. Roots poked into the cave at odd angles. Bad-smelling herbs were strewn about haphazardly. The carcass of some unidentifiable creature lay half-buried in the corner.

  “This is my home,” Uhs announced, gesturing proudly at the hovel. “Since you will be staying here for observation, you are free to use it as you please.”

  “Thank you,” said Thorion. “It’s . . . lovely.”

  “Out here is the fire pit.” Uhs scampered past them toward a ring of charred stones surrounding a pile of kindling. He crouched by the pit and struck two flint rocks together. Sparks skittered between their rough surfaces and the heap of twigs and dried leaves caught flame.

  Uhs hunkered down beside the fire. “Sit,” he invited them, tossing a larger log into the growing blaze. “We have much to discuss. First we will arrange payment for my services.”

  Keriya’s heart sank. She didn’t have any derlei, but she’d come too far to let that stop her. Color blooming on her cheeks, she snuck a sheepish glance at Max. He rolled his eyes and dug in the inside pocket of his coat, producing his coin purse.

  “Will this suffice?” he asked in clipped tones, offering it to the healer.

  Uhs sniffed at the pouch. “What is it?”

  “It’s all the derlei we’ve got,” said Max. “Take it or leave it.”

  “What does it do?” Uhs snatched the pouch and brought it close to his dark nose, squinting at it cross-eyed.

  Max and Seba exchanged an incredulous look. “You pay for things with it.”

  “If I cannot eat it and it has no inherent magical properties, it is useless to me,” Uhs declared, tossing the pouch aside. Max made a startled noise as the bag clinked to the ground and a few gold pieces spilled out, glittering in the grass.

  “If you don’t want money, then what do you want?” asked Keriya.

  “I like useful things,” said Uhs. “My patients often barter magic or knowledge in exchange for my services. I like these things, yes, but my favorite thing is secrets.” His yellow eyes flashed in the firelight as he speared Thorion with his gaze.

  “What kind of secrets?” Thorion said slowly.

  Uhs grinned, baring sharp little fangs. “Surprise me.”

  The group remained silent. No secrets were forthcoming.

  “No need to be shy,” Uhs encouraged them. “Everyone who wants my help must tell me one secret.”

  “I’m all set.” Max retrieved the coin purse and tucked it away before foldi
ng his arms over his chest. He glared at the werelion with an expression that was most unlike him.

  “Suit yourself. I couldn’t help you if I tried.” Uhs looked at Seba. “You are past the point of no return, but I can ease your suffering and prolong your life. It would be a challenge, yes, but not beyond my abilities.”

  Seba scowled. She shook her head and huddled closer to Max, shielding herself from the healer’s scrutiny. Uhs shrugged and looked at Thorion, but Thorion turned away from him as well. So the werelion’s attention shifted to Keriya.

  Keriya was torn. On the one hand, she was offended by the fact that Uhs thought she needed healing. On the other hand, maybe she did. What if there was something wrong inside her, something that prevented her from wielding? She was face-to-face with a healer whose abilities were the stuff of legend; what if he could help?

  She met Uhs’s gaze. His pupils contracted to slivers as he examined her.

  “I have no magic. I was born crippled,” she said. Max and Seba shifted uncomfortably on either side of her. Thorion leaned closer, as if to lend her strength.

  “No one knew why I couldn’t wield, but they all hated me for it. They used it as an excuse to hurt me. They used to whisper behind my back that I’d sold my soul to the dark spirits of the forest. They thought I might be a demon myself. Erasmus, my old teacher, always told me that if I was alive, I must have some sort of magic inside me. But no matter how hard I tried, how long I studied, how much I worked, I couldn’t wield anything.”

  Keriya suspected this wasn’t the type of secret Uhs was looking for, but the werelion sitting in rapt attention. Her human companions were also listening closely. They knew about her disability, but they’d never heard her speak of it in such detail.

  “Go on,” Uhs prompted.

  “I . . . well, that’s it.”

  “It’s a good start,” he conceded, “but those are facts, not secrets. What is your secret?”

  Keriya frowned. Those memories were some of her deepest and darkest. She kept them locked up so she didn’t have to confront them. What more did Uhs want from her?

 

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