Of Dragon Warrens and Other Traps

by Shannon McGee

  I was beginning to keep pace with Aella. Not beating her—that thought was laughable— but I wasn’t getting hit as often. I hadn’t even fallen on my face in several sessions. Not even with Kaleb.

  If I stayed with the mercenaries I could become even better. I could become stronger and faster than I had ever been before, and the next time someone tried to attack me or someone I cared about I wouldn’t have to hide behind someone else.

  I knew I had to tell them soon. The Great Road’s first divide was coming closer. Still, it took me a few more days after deciding to stay on with them to broach the subject with Dai and Kaleb.

  Aella and I had finished sparring, and she had run to refill her canteen. I was lounging with the two older men on the ground. It was misting lightly, and under me I could feel my sweaty back pressing into the cold dirt, but I didn’t mind. I wore a spare set of Aella’s practice clothes as always, and they were, in her words, “made to be dirty.” My face was red and sweaty too. I could feel the cool winter breeze wicking away the heat from my body, and I reveled the sensation.

  As I lay there, my mind drifted away from the conversation Dai and Kaleb were having, back to Aella. My breath still caught when I watched her spar with either of the older men. Today she had faced both of them at once. The more I watched her, the less I wondered at how she had held off three men with far less fighting experience than they possessed. Aella trained hard, and she clearly loved what she did. She was also so confident. Picturing the way her lips curved into a fierce smirk of triumph when she managed to land a blow on her more experienced opponents, I smiled too.

  “I have a question,” I said when the men’s conversation had reached a lull. It wasn’t really a question. I’d cling to the bottom of their caravan if they said there was no way I could join them, but I wasn’t about to tell them that.

  Kaleb propped his head up on his elbow to get a better look at me. “You sound serious.”

  I tugged lightly on one of the braids that bound my hair out of my face. “It is a little serious, I suppose.”

  “Well, say on then.”

  “How would I… if I wanted to stay on… with you lot. How would I go about that?”

  When they didn’t reply immediately, I used my elbows to push myself up, to better see their faces. They were looking at each other, but it occurred to me that they didn’t seem surprised.

  “She’s always right,” Kaleb said with an embarrassed smile. “Sometimes I forget.”

  “You’re certain?” Dai had sat up now, and he eyed me seriously.

  The decision was made up in my mind, even if I hadn’t spoken it aloud before now. All that remained of my mourning was bound up in a fist-sized hollow feeling in my chest that I carried everywhere—and staunchly ignored. I needed this. I needed this next step. A new path to forge my way on.

  I nodded. “It’s what I want.”

  “It won’t always be like this, you know.” Dai waved a hand at the peaceful clearing we had been training in. The tall pines rustled with a passing breeze, as though agreeing with him. “The life of a mercenary can be downright brutal.”

  “You’re staying with us?”

  Aella had returned. She stood at the edge of the clearing, and both of our canteens trembled in her hands. When I nodded, a grin broke across her face. She strode forward to sink into an exuberant embrace that was at least half tackle.

  “Aella, you’re dribbling water on me!” I laughed, pushing her off halfheartedly.

  “I knew it,” she said. She pulled back, meeting my gray-green eyes with her own hazel ones, still beaming from ear to ear. “I knew you would choose to come along with us.”

  Gods. I valued Aella’s friendship. I truly did. But all the time we had spent on the road together had not made those butterfly feelings of liking her go away. They had only grown stronger the more I got to know her.

  In moments like this, with her grinning at me, I thought everything that had happened might not have broken whatever there had been growing between us when we first met. My heart thrilled at the idea that she was so excited to have me stay. A very silly and childish part of my heart was crowing, She likes me! She likes me! and I had to quash it, because of course she liked me. We were friends. That was why she had saved my life in the first place, right?

  Whatever I felt and whatever she felt, I was in no place to even consider changing anything between the two of us. Everything was too fragile. If she said she did like me, then I would always wonder if it came from a place of pity for the poor exiled shepherd girl with nothing to her name. If I asked how she felt, and she said she didn’t like me, it would be one more thing that I had lost that day in the woods.

  Besides, I wanted what it was that we did have to be good enough for me. I was no stranger to what it was like to have a friend like me, and to not understand that I simply didn’t return the feelings. Back home a boy named Thomas had been enamored with me, and the expectation with which he had always looked at me had made me feel so uncomfortable. I never wanted to put that on Aella. Her friendship was the one purely good thing that had come out of this year.

  She had got me out of Nophgrin. She had got me through my subsequent depression. She had protected me and helped me find myself again. She was the best friend I had among the mercenaries.

  “Yes,” I said to her, trying to will away a blush. “You were right. Congratulate yourself, and don’t tell anyone until I’ve had a chance to!”

  She giggled and hugged me again, as Kaleb and Dai began to explain what staying on with the company would mean for me. Nothing would functionally change until spring. That was when Twelfth Company would begin their next tour. Before then I would need to sign a contract and get all the necessary gear for life on the road. I endeavored to listen closely, even though Aella had curled both her arms around one of mine, and that was incredibly distracting.

  After we had put our training equipment away, Aella and I lay in our shared tent, and she told me stories of the places I would see. The tents were only meant for one occupant, and she was so close I could feel the heat from her skin. I did my best to stay very still, half afraid that if I brushed the bare skin of her arms it would burn me.

  “You’ll see Elyria, and the perytons!” she whispered into the quiet. “In the south country, I’ll take you to the bazaars, and in the west, I’m sure Ito and Belinda will want you to see the great library!”

  “I’ve heard so many stories about the mage’s school and its library,” I murmured, staring at the blackness that was the tent’s ceiling. They had been stories Michael told me, but she didn’t need to hear that. “About all the places you talk about, really. They sound amazing. So different from the mountains.”

  “You’ve no idea, Taryn. Kaleb and Dai are right, it’s not always easy, but—oh!” She sighed with satisfaction. “The things you’ll see! Just you wait! In the south there are lesser gryphons that can fit on your palm, and they’re so colorful you wouldn’t believe they’re real. And there’s the Ocean of Sadai, in the east. There are nomads who come from the far shores and they live their whole lives on the waves—” She had been all over the country, and I closed my eyes, listening to her describe it all.

  I drifted off to sleep thinking about how I could keep this small bit of happiness I had kept hold of. It would be hard, but if I became a good enough fighter I would at least be allowed to stay with the company. If I stayed long enough, who was to say? Perhaps there would be a time when there could even be something more between Aella and me—when I had something to bring her besides my sorrow, when I could be a partner, and not a burden. For now, it was enough to be alive and on the road with her

  We had been on the road for two months and three weeks when the great stone walls of the mercenary barracks just outside Forklahke came into view.

  Fort Forklahke was situated on a raised cropping of land, surrounded by four stone walls that were twice as tall as the walls that had surrounded Nophgrin. Beyond the walls, below the ridge,
was Lake Forklahke, a long, three-pronged body of water that glittered in the fading winter light.

  A small moat surrounded the fort, and between two lookout towers on the wall was a massive set of wooden doors that opened onto the bridge as we approached. As we passed through the gates, the guards on high waved down at Aedith, who waved back.

  I had only a moment to view the vast interior of Fort Forklahke. There was a training yard off to my left, and three buildings ahead of me. An open maw of land yawned in the center of the structures, and we converged there as everyone filed inside.

  Gathering all of that, I looked around for my companions. I was certain that at any moment they would rush off and I’d be left to find my own way. However, every one of them had turned their attention on Aedith.

  “I want every single mount seen to before the caravan is unloaded,” she barked. “Don’t even touch it until you know that every horse has been wiped down, fed and watered. Ito if you see a single mount left wanting you tell me. Kaleb, when we’re through in the stables, you’re supervising the unloading of the gear. Make a note of anything that is running low. I want petitions for refills put in today. We are not going through another bureaucratic nightmare like we did this past spring. Am I understood?”

  “Aye commander!” The company chorused.

  Her words spawned one flurry of activity after another and left little time for me to get my bearings as I rushed to keep up. The dark clouds in the sky threatened snow, and everyone wanted to be finished and inside before the storm hit.

  The horses, and my pony were stabled in a long building to the right of the gates. The caravan was left alongside two others that were parked in front of the paddock that surrounded the stables. En masse, we trouped to the rightmost building. Our gear and supplies we had used on the road were stored into a series of sheds.

  When everything had been put away Aedith led us to the tall building on the opposite side of the grounds. As we walked, Ito explained the layout of the three buildings.

  “The two buildings on the ends are connected to the one in the middle by covered causeways in case of rain or snow.” His voice was low, so he didn’t disturb Aedith as she spoke briskly with her seconds at the front of the procession. “The middle building has the kitchen, mess hall, the laundry, as well as offices on the upper floor. The offices are where the commanders and their seconds take meetings with the guild leaders and each other. And these are the sleeping quarters.” He gestured to indicate the building we were headed toward, and the one we had come from behind.

  Belinda ducked her head to speak in my other ear. “You can see they muffed it when it came to the design of the sleeping quarters. Wish they’d done it the opposite way—with the mess hall tall and the sleeping quarters squat. It’s cold on the top floors in the winter and roasting in the summer.”

  The sleeping quarters rose four and three stories, respectively, barely keeping from cresting over the walls that surrounded them. They were the tallest buildings I had ever seen, and I imagined they were near impossible to keep warm in the heart of winter.

  “They’re almost never full,” Ito assured me, seeing my awed expression. “At least one company is usually out, even in winter. So, they’re each meant to hold six of the thirteen companies, at maximum.”

  “Though I guess we could all fit if we squeezed together,” Belinda said ruefully.

  Two entrances to the sleeping quarters sat on the corner nearest to the mess hall, one faced the eating hall, and one faced toward the front gates. Within the doors, there was a small antechamber where we stomped the mud off our boots, before continuing in.

  It was dark inside. I could see through some open doors that rooms had small windows with cloudy glass panels welded in to let weak light filter through. Most, though not all rooms, also seemed to have a small hearth with bundles of wood laid neatly beside.

  “What do people do if they’re in a room with no fireplace? Freeze?” I asked nervously. Were they punishment rooms?

  Aella heard the question. “I don’t know exactly how it works, but there are heating channels under the floor. Ito?”

  Ito nodded. “There’s one large fire at the center of the buildings. It, as well as the other hearths, have pipes that can be shut or opened to allow some of their heat to be directed into thin passages under the floorboards. That heats those rooms.”

  “Magic?”

  Ito gave me a conspiratorial smile. “Only when it gets very cold do Belinda and I or one of the other mages help bolster the main fire.”

  We trailed up a small staircase near the privy—I couldn’t help but be impressed by a privy connected to the building, though I wondered if it stank in the summer. The second floor was chillier than the first, save in rooms that had someone staying in the room below. Those rooms were assigned first. Aella, Afua, I, and Cassandra were bunked together. It would have been nice to room with Dai or Kaleb, but it didn’t surprise me that they had their own rooms.

  Once we had all settled in, Aedith caught our attention with a piercing whistle. She wasn’t a tall woman, but she had a presence about her that made her seem much larger. A scar ran from the corner of her mouth and across one cheek—a gift from a monster she had faced before I had met her. It made her look impressive and serious, like a fighter out of a story. Like Gail of The Spiral Islands, from The Manticore Crusades. I’d always loved that one.

  “I’ve a meeting with the guild leader,” she said. “Dai and Kaleb have their own separate meeting after mine concludes. Supper’s at the normal time. Any questions?”

  Headshakes came from those she could see, and those who were in their rooms trying to get fires to light, yelled their own replies. When she had got her answer, she nodded curtly, allowing her lips to pull up briefly in a small smile. “Well met. Welcome home.” Then she turned on her heel and disappeared back down the steps. Dai and Kaleb trailed after her, waving to the rest of us with easy grins.

  Those who had waited for her dismissal now followed the example of those who had gone ahead. They lit their fires or lifted the pulleys that opened the vents beneath their rooms. When they had finished, many then wandered in same direction that the commander had gone.

  “Seventh Company might be in already,” I heard Cassandra say to Afua, as they shoved their belongings quickly into their allotted drawers. “You want to go down and check?”

  Her friend nodded and looked over her shoulder at Aella, “Will you come down now?”

  “Yeah. Luke!” She bellowed her friend’s name.

  He popped his blond head in, looking harassed. “What? What do you want?”

  “I want to see if Co—” Aella stopped and turned to me, as though just remembering I might be feeling a bit like a fish out of water. “You’ll be ok up here on your own?”

  I nodded, trying to fix my face so it looked reassuring. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll get the fire lit, and then we’ll see. Maybe I’ll come find you.”

  “All right. Luke, I want to see if Seventh Company has arrived. Don’t you want to look for Ninth? I’ll see you!” She said the last part to me, in an absent sort of way, barely breaking from her meaningful smirk at Lucas, who flapped a hand at her and ducked back out of view.

  I opened my mouth to say goodbye back, but she was already hurrying to catch up with Lucas, and the rest of those who had gone ahead.

  When they had all gone, I lit the hearth as I’d said I would. It was an easy job after two months of doing it in mixed conditions while on the road. With it done, I went to lay on the lower bunk, which I had claimed as my own.

  For a time, I stared at the bunk above me. At first faint noises of others in the company settling into their rooms drifted through the walls. Blankets rustled as they were shaken out, and wood scraped wood as furniture was moved to better suit the occupants’ needs. The noise quieted as those people finished. The slap of booted feet on flagstone alerted me as each person headed past my door and down the stairs.

  I turned on my
side. Though I had stoked the fire high, the chill had yet to be banished from the room. I could get under the sheets, I knew, but it didn’t seem worth it. I was used to being cold, after all. The road had been three times as cold, and that had been fine. Hadn’t it?

  Eventually I dozed, and the room slipped away behind the darkness of my eyelids. In that blackness pictures danced. Nai smiling at me and twitching her skirts as she said something witty. Nai crying and hugging me goodbye. My mother, over her right shoulder, weeping, and telling me it would be all right. The smell of smoke drifted into my nose, and I saw it curling out from behind the wood that leaned against a boot-shod foot. Flames licked the leather of the toes. Smoke was pouring into my lungs, smothering me.

  I jolted forward, flailing slightly, trying to block the sparks coming off the wood beneath me before they burned my cheeks. But no, I realized, blinking slowly at the stone wall to my left. There were no sparks. There was no fire. I was in Forklahke, not Nophgrin.

  I took in a shuddering lungful of air. A dream. I had been dreaming again. I let myself breathe, slowing my racing heart, as I took in my surroundings, piece by piece. That was the best way I knew to fully remind myself that I was not where the nightmares were.

  “I’m sitting on a cot. I am not on top of a pyre,” I whispered. Hearing my voice helped.

  The bottom of the top bunk was only an inch above me. It was wood, not the pale blue of the sky. I touched it with one hand and used the other to rub the bedding under me, grounding myself. The bedding was pilling, off-white and a dingy gray in color, but it was soft and clean. The room, I was surprised to find, was much darker than it had been before I had closed my eyes. The light coming through the room’s thin window had faded, and the hearth had gone smoky—