Dragon's Revenge

by Debi Ennis Binder

  The blue dragon, who was likely the more dominant of the two, tilted his head. “But Mayra, we aren’t supposed to go near that dragon. Gaulte told us—”

  Cherra made a disappointed face. How sad. I wanted to talk to both of you! Hagan is scary, isn’t he? She sighed. But I can go alone. Cherra started walking away. Perhaps you could just stay here. If something happens to me, I can call for you.

  Both dragons were plainly undecided.

  Don’t ask more questions, she thought to herself. Don’t make me kill you, young ones.

  “We can go with you,” the blue dragon finally said. They both stepped in line on either side of her, and Cherra walked more quickly, retracing the steps she had taken when those damned witches had dragged her away from Lord Hagan. And imprisoned her with farking Feshr!

  But things were improving: She was no longer locked in that cell and she wasn’t alone—she had two young hostages.

  * * *

  Wolfe and Mayra hurried into the witch’s common to join the other witches. They had met Fauler coming from the dragon’s corridor and sent him back to inform the others of Cherra’s escape and her familiar appearance.

  When Mayra had told Fauler that she would be wearing different clothing and described them, Wolfe made an impatient noise, to which she had given him an equally exasperated look.

  “I need to look different than Cherra does now,” she said and turned back to Fauler. “If you see me, dressed in clothes that are this color, Fauler, it’s not me.”

  An odd snort escaped Fauler. “Life is simpler without so many coverings—clothing,” he muttered. Mayra laughed. “But I will tell the others that a Mayra in a green covering is not our Mayra.”

  * * *

  Back in the witch’s common, there was time for a quickly devoured meal as Wolfe passed along the news to the others, and as Shaura looked at Mayra’s shoulder, Anadi went to Mayra’s room for other clothing. The Healer helped Mayra change to a palest-brown tunic and leggings, while Wolfe’s look defied the other men to even glance Mayra’s way. Fleura then unbraided Mayra’s hair and fastened her long curls back with a leather strap.

  “We met Fauler,” Wolfe finished. “He returned to the dragons to tell them about Cherra,” Wolfe moved over on the bench for Mayra to join him; she grabbed up another roll and more fruit; he stuffed meat into the roll and took a huge bite.

  “Do you have any idea where Cherra went?” Richart asked.

  “Probably right back to Hagan,” Mayra replied. “We’re going to search for her now.” She turned away from the table. “Qintas and Anadi”—those two witch-warriors looked up from sharpening swords—“we need you to join us. This time, we need someone who wields more sword than magic.”

  Qintas grinned and patted his black baldric. All knew he carried the heaviest, sharpest blade among the witches. The tall blond man was skilled with magic, but he was proud that his true prowess was with that sword.

  Wolfe had another idea. “Harald, Jannia, Shaura, and Payk,” he continued, “go to Gaulte’s chambers and tell him we’re going to Hagan’s cell to search for Cherra. Be sure to remind them of what Cherra is wearing, as opposed to Mayra.”

  “And the rest of you need to find Theura and Patar,” Mayra finished. “Cherra used dragon magic and Hagan’s help to shapeshift. Ask them if there is a way to turn her back to herself, without her cooperation.”

  “And remember,” Wolfe added, “no mind-speak.”

  Mayra, Wolfe, and the two witch-warriors, Anadi and Qintas, then left, headed toward Hagan’s cell.

  “Did you let Cherra go?” Anadi asked Mayra curiously, as they entered the first corridor toward the back of the Aerie.

  “No, she escaped on her own merits,” Mayra admitted. “Feshr gave me a ferocious whack with a board and knocked me almost senseless. But beware, she has magic that can restrain hands. I had to use—”

  Mayra was stopped by the loud, screaming sound of rock grinding against rock—she shuddered as she recognized the noise. A tall doorway opened just ahead of them; they stopped and looked down—and further down. A familiar head poked out with a grin.

  The gnome king, Jenus, waved them toward him.

  “Come this way.” A chuckle followed the conspiratorial whisper. “I am told you need to get to the dungeon cells as quickly as possible.”

  “Yes!” Though delighted to see the gnome king, Mayra was more than puzzled as to why he was there and how he had found them. “I hope you can get us to the cells before Cherra gets to Hagan!”

  “Wait,” Wolfe said, raising his hand and halting them. “Qintas, I need for you to run back to our common and see if you can catch someone before they leave. I need you to have one of them take another message to Gaulte. And we’ll meet you on the way to Hagan’s prison.” He then turned to the gnome king. “And I have another plan in which you will be instrumental, Your Highness. But I need for you to get to Hagan and remove the guards there as quickly and silently as you can.”

  * * *

  As Cherra strode down the corridor that led to the back of the Aerie, she ignored the two young dragons who kept in step with her. At last, she walked through the vast arch that led to the passageway that held Hagan’s cell, stopped, and faced the two young dragons.

  Why don’t one of you get the key to the cell while I find the tinderbox for the torches?

  Cherra’s mind-speak was light and friendly. She had no idea where the cell key was kept and hoped her dragon companions did know. As she lit the huge torches on either side of the archway, she stopped to listen for signs of life from the cell at the end of the corridor. It was silent.

  Cherra lit a smaller torch to carry down to the cell and turned to find the two dragons awaiting her. The blue dragon carried a carved piece of wood in his mouth, from which dangled a huge iron key. As he spoke around the key, his mumbled words echoed around them and Cherra hushed him. She took the key and slipped it into her tunic pocket.

  Please use mind-speak. Your speaking aloud might awaken Lord Hagan.

  Cherra turned at the silence behind her; the blue dragon gave her a fearsome dragon smile, and she wondered if he was getting suspicious. But then—

  I know it is dark in the down here, the green dragon asked, his mind-speak playful, but have you figured out which of us is which?

  Cherra stiffened and almost missed a step. She had hoped that they wouldn’t notice she hadn’t used their names. But both dragons were still relaxed and friendly; they couldn’t be clever enough to realize she might not be Mayra, could they?

  You aren’t supposed to catch people unawares like that, she scolded. That is embarrassing. She stopped for a moment and smiled at both dragons. I confess then. I still don’t know which of you is which.

  She then resumed walking. Cherra tried to keep her racing thoughts on helping Lord Hagan, but she couldn’t stop berating herself for her parting plea to Mayra that she save Cherra’s baby. It was a stupid thing to do. She absently let her hand run down her stomach, sadly conscious of her once-slender body, of having to let out the cords of her leggings, as her stomach grew rounder with the child. And how short of wind she was nowadays.

  Her thoughts went to the cell at the end of the corridor. Did she want to have this baby in a wretched cave with a dragon and a gnome to help her? No! A sob almost escaped her. She wanted a warm place with fine food, and soft, beautiful clothes. She wanted to purchase pretty things with real money—

  Stop, Mayra!

  Be careful, Mayra!

  The mind-speak of the two dragons startled Cherra out of her reverie. They had prevented her from tripping over a large piece of rock. She kicked it to one side, but instead of continuing, she slid down the wall and sat, drawing her knees close to her. They were halfway to the cell. And halfway back to where she started this long, daunting walk.

  If she returned to Mayra, it would be a surrender on Mayra’s terms. A soft sigh escaped Cherra. Mayra had said she wanted to help Cherra, but would Mayra really help a w
oman who impersonated her for evil purposes?

  The blue dragon stepped closer to her again. “I am Alder,” he said hesitantly. “Remember, Mother told you to call me Alder Blue? And Perice Green?” His small dragon smile was charming if, Cherra had to admit, a bit frightening.

  As she thanked him, a savage chill went through her.

  Cherra. Lord Hagan’s growl was cold and unfeeling, even as a mind-speak. He seemed to physically grind into her brain and it terrified her. A new, even colder fear suddenly washed through her. He could sense her presence, but could he feel her treacherous thoughts?

  Was he calling her—she swallowed panic—to kill her?

  * * *

  Gaulte sat back against his cushions with an extended groan. Hesta left him to his thoughts. Only a few moments earlier, their chambers were crowded with humans, dragons, and too much noise.

  Gaulte had quickly sent all the witchlings back to their common, assuring them that Fauler had reported that Mayra and Wolfe were searching for Cherra, and that the Phailite woman looked like Mayra again, except for her clothing color. Harald had brought further information—Mayra now wore coverings the color of balka-tree bark. A Mayra wearing the color of the tree leaves, was not their Mayra. And a message from Wolfe—he would be pulling the guards off Hagan to ensure Cherra could reach him without trouble.

  Gaulte wondered what that meant, what Wolfe was planning.

  Hesta was preparing to bring Tamsin to see her sire, but Diaya and Talft had burst in, certain that their five-yearlings were missing. That Alder and Perice had missed the largest meal of the day was bad enough, but then lovely, pale-purple Diaya had sworn she had caught bits of mind-speak.

  Hesta wondered. Those two young dragons, who should have been working with the Librarian, were the last she would expect to disobey Gaulte’s order against using mind-speak, and Gaulte had quickly agreed with her. But then, Gaulte’s, “Thank you for informing me,” had sounded distracted to the five-yearlings’ parents.

  Hesta thought Diaya and Talft looked crestfallen that Gaulte hadn’t jumped up to immediately find the two five-yearlings. This was a problem for one dragon family, and so Gaulte, as leader of the Aerie, should be informed, Hesta knew. But the minor mystery about Alder and Perice was much less urgent than the problem of Cherra, running free through the Aerie, looking like Mayra, and trying to free Hagan.

  The chambers were quiet now, and Talft was turning to leave, when Diaya hesitated and asked, “If they’re using mind-speak, could they be trying to tell us—their parents—something?”

  Gaulte looked interested. “Did you hear anything they said?” he asked.

  “Something about mixing up their names,” Diaya replied. “And I know it was Alder who said, It is dark—in the down here.” She shrugged, as though to apologize for the odd wording.

  Hesta, tidying the room, stopped short and turned toward Diaya. “In the down here?” she repeated. “He used those words?” A light rumble escaped her. “Talft and Diaya, you have clever five-yearlings!”

  Diaya looked puzzled.

  Hesta shook her head. “They have been eager participants during human-speak lessons,” she explained to the others. “Alder said in the down here. The last time I spoke to the younglings, two of the witchlings joined me, and we discussed the sizes of various human dwellings and the concepts of down and up in multilevel human abodes. Floors represent status, and the higher up you live, the more esteemed you often are. But who lives down in the bottoms of buildings—what Gabrel called in the down here? Among Jannia’s answers to that were human prisoners!” She laughed. “They do listen to me!”

  “So, Alder and Perice are with the prisoner?” Diaya was appalled. “I shall beat them!”

  “No, no,” Talft soothed. “I feel that being there might not be their idea.” The blue-green dragon looked over at Gaulte. “Should we use mind-speak to contact Alder or Perice?”

  Gaulte shook his head no. “Mayra and Wolfe are already on their way to find Cherra, but they aren’t any longer alone in the corridors. I asked the gnome king to find and help them. No one knows the tunnels and back areas of these mountains better than the gnomes. Go quickly and you should be able to catch up with them outside the prison-cell.”

  The black dragon paused. “As both of you well know, Hagan is very deceitful. If the Phailite woman is there, and looks like Mayra, she is likely trying to free him. Do what you can to stop her and help Mayra and Wolfe.” Gaulte looked more troubled. “The more I speak of this the more concerned I am that Hagan can get free.” He turned his gaze on the worried parents. “Larek and Fauler will join you, thus enabling you to make your younglings your primary concern. We would be there with you, but we need to ensure the safety of our Aerie first.” He glanced at Hesta. They had work to do.

  Both parents breathed a sigh of relief.

  But Diaya still hesitated, and Hesta realized the anxious mother was putting things together more quickly than the male dragons seemed to be.

  “Yes, Diaya,” Hesta said gently. “I suspect that the Phailite woman is taking your younglings with her to free Hagan.” The red dragon hesitated. “I feel certain that Mayra and Wolfe can save them.”

  The eyes of the two female dragons met and held. Hesta could almost hear what Diaya must think—how could two witchlings stand up against a dragon as evil and powerful as Hagan? And would her younglings be in the middle of that battle

  * * *

  Hesta watched Diaya and Talft leave the chambers, and the red dragon huffed softly. Diaya was much more relaxed, even pausing to nuzzle her nose against her mate’s as they were leaving.

  Hesta turned back to find Gaulte staring at her with a frown.

  “What did you tell her?” he demanded. “Were you truthful? Leaders must be truthful, Hesta. Our people must be confident and trust us above all else.”

  “You try to tell a distraught dragon mother that her offspring are being rescued by witchlings, not other dragons!” Hesta snapped. She sat back on her back haunches and picked up one of her blue jewels. “When I first met Mayra, I did not believe she could best Hagan and help the Aerie females and younglings. I just pointed out to Diaya that although Mayra and Wolfe can’t match a dragon in strength, they bested that evil dragon using magic or some excellent trickery. And Mayra saved Tamsin.”

  “I could tell that you lessened Diaya’s worries. But not your own?”

  “I fear Hagan more than ever—the dragon now fights for his life,” Hesta said in a low voice. “Hagan injured Diaya, Jannia, and Mayra before you captured him. I believe that had it not been for you and Kantar, Hagan would have escaped with Tamsin.”

  “Do you not have faith in the witchlings?” Gaulte asked his mate gently.

  “How can I, Gaulte? I fear they will once again fail without your help.”

  “After what Larek and Fauler heard that cursed dragon mumbling, we have tucked all the younglings safely away. We will battle him again. I will not let that dragon hurt anyone in my Aerie.”

  Hesta lifted her head. “I told Diaya that Mayra and Wolfe and the other two witchlings will save Alder and Perice. I wanted them to leave so we could put our young with the others. Theura wants to see us, something about changing the Phailite woman back to herself.”

  Hesta could see that Gaulte still had the same blind faith in Mayra and Wolfe that he had had when Mayra rescued him; her saving Tamsin had but bolstered that conviction. And while Hesta could lie to Diaya, she could not lie to herself. According to Shaura, four witchlings had gone to find Hagan—witchlings with immense human magic and strength. Yet Hesta did not believe that what the witchlings brought to the fight would be enough to stop Hagan unless the dragons were again at their sides.

  * * *

  Cherra, come here.

  Lord Hagan’s mind-speak was more impatient. Cherra swallowed and looked back at the two young dragons. Had they heard the mighty dragon speaking to her? They were both sitting back on their haunches, looking at her curiousl
y. She released a breath—no, she didn’t think they’d heard.

  She wiped tears from her face and rose. Behind her, she could feel the younglings, still hesitating to step closer to her.

  He won’t hurt you, she told them in a gentle, coaxing tone. Gaulte ensured he is safely locked away.

  The young blue dragon took a step closer to her, followed by the other. Cherra pulled the key from her tunic, turned, and continued her journey down the corridor toward Hagan.

  * * *

  The cell was cold and silent. Alder and Perice were still holding back; Cherra thought they would turn to leave, but the blue dragon—Alder Blue—stepped forward.

  “Mayra?” His voice was so faint she could barely hear him. He swallowed and Cherra almost smiled. “Be careful. Do not get too close to him!”

  He was plainly trying hard to be brave, but she knew the thought of Lord Hagan, beyond those bars, was terrifying the young beast.

  Cherra paused a moment, then turned her attention to Lord Hagan. Many conflicting emotions rushed through her at seeing him—he looked helpless and defeated, yet she knew he wasn’t. Lord Hagan would let no one see him as weak and beaten—unless it was a ploy.

  The once-arrogant dragon had a huge collar and chain around his neck, and two more chains, just as heavy, around his back feet. He still lay in a huge pile of hay, his head resting on his front arms. He looked comfortable, as though he slept, but Cherra knew the dragon was alert and aware they were there.

  She didn’t trust that he would be pleased to see her on the other side of the bars, with Ceshon Aerie dragons, and so she decided she’d get no closer than his chains could reach.

  Cherra slid the huge key into the lock of the human-sized cell door. She turned the key; Lord Hagan remained unmoving.

  “Hagan,” she called softly.

  Cherra ignored the two young dragons and the odd, gasping sounds they made, but glanced slightly back when Alder moved closer to her. His eyes were wide with alarm. “Mayra, what are you doing?” he blurted, sounding shocked.