by LeRoy Clary
I asked the captain when he expected us to arrive. He looked up at the full sails, at the water, and at the horizon before answering. “Morning, I’d think. Not early.”
I went to the galley and reached into the barrel with the hard crackers. They had a slight coating of salt, probably to help preserve them. When Bran was not looking, I filled my mug a couple of times with cool water and drew a scowl from Elizabeth. To annoy her, I moved to her side, and when Bran looked away, refilled hers.
I was rewarded with another punch on my shoulder, one harder than usual.
She went below to sleep. Being on the water seems to make people sleep far more than usual. Bran wandered off, and I sat at the stern enjoying the ship, the sails providing shade as the day warmed.
I reached out to Anna. *We think we’ll arrive on the coast before midday.*
*Kendra said to ask you about Will.*
*The king of Malawi is related to the king of Landor. He sent one of his sons along with an army detachment to Landor with orders to seize the royalty, tell them what is happening, and take over the rule, if needed. He will then send the Landor army to meet ours, and on the way, he’ll appeal to Fairbanks to send men, since they don’t have a regular army.*
*Will all that work?*
*He thinks so. Another army will meet us at your location.*
*Any word about the Young Mage?* she asked.
*No.*
There was a pause. Then her voice came louder in my mind, *Don’t you think that’s strange? Do you believe he is just sitting back and waiting for us?*
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Anna’s question haunted me. Would the Young Mage sit back and allow is to invade Kondor and take Dagger after Prince Angle already taking Vin and Tagger? He was sure to know about it.
One other thought came to mind. If the Waystone in Malawi was so depleted of magic, were others facing the same? Without them, the mages, who were his minions, were losing more power by the day. I couldn’t imagine him sitting in Kaon doing nothing while waiting for us to gather our forces and attack him. She was right. It was too easy.
The dragon, Kendra’s dragon, was the key, my mind kept saying. It all reverted to her and the dragon. Not what we were doing, not what the Young Mages did, or the other mages and sorceresses. It was about the last dragon. Whoever controlled the last dragon controlled all magic.
And the Young Mage wouldn’t wait.
Not in a thousand years.
*Anna?*
*Yes?*
*You need an escape route. A way out of there. I think the Young Mage may be coming.*
*I’ll tell Kendra.*
To help her boredom, I sent her two more letters and their sounds.
I broke the connection and went in search of Elizabeth. She was sleeping soundly in a hammock, so I left her there and went back on deck to think. Suddenly, there seemed to be a lot to consider.
The sailors went about their tasks without speaking to me, not that they were impolite. They were doing their jobs and I was a temporary passenger. We’d get off at the next stop and they would sail away to their next port. The question of what the Young Mage would do next came into mind time after time. He’d pursued us vigorously until we crossed the lake and fled into the Brownlands to the south. Nothing after that.
Sure, there had been the battle in Malawi, but that had been planned in advance. The crown had been ready to fall. All the pieces were in place until we righted them.
We assumed he was setting a trap for us in Landor, or at sea near there, but we never knew for sure since we had avoided it. We didn’t know if his men followed us across the desert to the fishing village, again it was an assumption. The fact was that the chase had all been in our heads since we hadn’t seen a single soldier.
Oh, he may have had troops right on our heels, and I believed he did. But what would his next step be? If he used the army from Dagger to move north to fight against the armies from Vin and Trager, he left Dagger defenseless. He’d certainly heard of the armies massing there and saw that his conquest plans were failing. He might march his entire army north to meet that of Prince Angle and leave Dagger open to us.
If he didn’t send them north, the army Prince Angle and Emory had raised would one day attack Dagger from there. He might believe his forces could defend the city if they remained at home. Or, he might think he could send reinforcements from Landor and Fairbanks to help him after defeating them and commanding their armies as his own.
The Waystone network was an important key. The one at Malawi was useless and wouldn’t send mages to Kaon or wherever they did, but I didn’t know about Landor. A mage on a boat could sail there in little over a day or two from Malawi, and if the Waystone there was functional, that same mage might be having lunch with the Young Mage in Kaon.
I wished Will was with us to help plan. He had a military background and could help define some of the questions, even if he didn’t have all the answers. I considered my singing sword again and wondered what would happen of all three were together. And what if there were more? If so, who had them?
The questions tumbled over one another as they entered my mind. I tried forcing a linear line of thought and failed. I sat at the stern and let it run wherever.
The ship’s captain strode toward me, back erect, chin up. His eyes took in everything about the ship as he moved. I had the sense that if one knot was tied wrong, one line worn or frayed, or if there was any sign of dirt on the deck, he would notice. His duty would be to have it corrected instantly.
He stood stiffly before me. “I have orders to take you where you wish at my best speed. I don’t know why. The orders are verbal and abrupt, suggesting an emergency. Are you able to shed some light?”
There was no reason not to tell him—at least part of it. “Malawi is entering a war, along with several other kingdoms. There is a rogue mage in Kaon that kills kings and their heirs and assumes power. We’re trying to stop him.”
He stood there looking down on me as he considered what I’d told him. I waited.
He said, “I have another set of charts that show the location of the bay you want, and you mentioned your sister is upriver at the base of a mountain. May I offer that the river is marked navigable on the chart for vessels this size?”
“We can sail up it?”
He hesitated. “The chart is old. I won’t endanger my ship if I sense the river level is low, the chart outdated, or a dozen other things, but if you wish, we can attempt it. I’d think we should be able to make it at least part way.”
“Thank you.”
He turned on a heel in that most military manner. It was his duty to provide the services his king would if he were here. It didn’t answer any of the questions in my mind, but the offer assured me and gave me a little hope.
Elizabeth emerged from sleeping and came to sit at my side. She said, “How long has that Wyvern been up there?”
I looked up and found it flying very high, so high it looked no larger than a seagull from a distance. “I didn’t know it was there.”
She said, “Figure out anything?”
“The captain did. He thinks we can sail up the river to the base of the mountain Kendra is on, or at least part way.”
“Good of him to research that.”
“I guess.”
“What’s wrong, Damon?”
“I agree with you. It’s been too quiet. Nobody is chasing us or shooting at us.”
She shook her head slowly and turned to me. “How can you say that? This morning, we were attacked, not once, but twice.”
“I know, but it was different. We provoked it. Yes, the Young Mage was probably behind it, but only because of plans he’d set into motion long before he knew of us.”
We sat and I stewed. My mind wouldn’t settle down. There were too many things to consider at the same time. I finally settled on going back to the beginning. The dragon on the mountaintop at Mercia. It had looked at me, then. I thought it was going to attack, but
already it was bonding with my sister. Then we fought the Wyvern together.
There hadn’t been a Waystone up there, but the stone container had held a dragon egg, I was sure of it. That container had the same sort of carvings as Waystones. The egg had disappeared, but there were a few hints that we hadn’t been alone up there. A mage had been there and needed the Wyvern attacking to distract us long enough to steal the egg.
That left the matter of how he had done it. Again, the stone container with the carvings was the central issue. Rumors and numerous sightings said mages appeared near Waystones at odd times as if they had traveled long distances. The mage on the mountain at Mercia had done something to make the egg leave—and appear somewhere else.
Probably it had traveled to another Waystone to revive or replace the diminishing source of magic power there. Without new eggs, all Waystones died. And my sister controlled the dragon that laid the eggs.
I fell asleep on the bench I sat on leaning on a princesses’ shoulder, shaded by the sails of a warship, lulled by the sound of the hull racing through the water to an unknown destination. It was an uneasy sleep, the sort that leaves me almost as tired after waking, and often my mind is groggy. There was too much to consider.
I woke with a start as the ship changed direction. The sails thumped and the deck angled the opposite way. After sitting up, I fended off conversation while reviewing the things I’d dreamt about.
With all the different things to confuse me, two stood out. The last dragon was one. The other was the Young Mage. I turned to Elizabeth. “Who first called him the Young Mage?”
She didn’t immediately respond, but her eyes narrowed as she thought. “There was an old man, a passenger on the Gallant with us. He warned me. He used the term.”
“Just that? He warned you? How did he know of him?”
“He told me a story,” she said. “His brother was taken by the mages for training and the old man had no idea where. However, the man said his brother came to him in dreams and told him things.”
“Well, that sounds suspicious. An unknown man has dreams of the Young Mage.”
“I think he communicated with his brother but wouldn’t admit it. Like you and Anna.”
I asked, “So, you believe him?”
“He told the truth as he knew it. He was scared. It could have been anyone putting those thoughts into his mind, but he believed it was his brother. Why?”
“While sleeping, an idea came to me. Maybe there is no Young Mage, but that story is being told by whoever it really is. Maybe we are just being directed to do his bidding. Or the story is intended to make it easier to capture or kill us.”
She said, “Maybe you are over-thinking things. It does not matter how old he is, or what we call him.”
Elizabeth was right. But that was only half of what I’d decided was important. “It’s not us. The dragon is the center of all this.”
Arms crossed over her chest, lips tight, she nodded for me to continue. “Magic, moving from one Waystone to another, power. Everything concerning magic is fueled by the dragon. One dragon. Control the dragon and you control all the rest.”
“I’ve heard you say that before.”
“Yes, but not like now. It all concerns the dragon and control. No dragon, no magic. More than one dragon and magic run amok, perhaps there are more who can access the essence and then there would be power groups of mages fighting each other. For control, total control, there must be exactly one dragon.”
“There is only one. Right?” she asked as if horrified there might be more.
“There was an egg at Mercia. Someone stole it.”
“I know that.”
“There are eight Waystones, that we know of. Maybe more. Each requires a replacement egg now and then. We don’t know how long they last. But if the dragon must produce two eggs a month for a supply of replacements, it is time to lay another.”
“Maybe that’s why the dragon refuses to fly or obey Kendra!”
“It is laying another egg. Anna said so.”
Elizabeth settled back and let that idea worry her. My mind raced, too.
She mused, “There are several examples of creatures that do not need a mate for a fertilized egg. If left alone, will the egg hatch?”
That was the question I’d been hunting for.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Kendra’s dragon laying an egg. No, it was already sitting on one according to Anna. Would it be fertile and hatch? Would it be a new source of magic? If so, who would know about the birth of a new dragon? Could they, meaning the Young Mage, sense it from a distance? Would he try to kill it?
Another thought interrupted my thinking. If we managed to delay replacing the egg in the Waystone, or Waystones, near Kaon, would the Young Mage’s power begin to fade? I sat beside Elizabeth on the stern of the military ship and watched the sun get lower in the sky without either of us speaking. My stomach was ready to turn, and it had nothing to do with the movement of the ship.
She finally said, “Got it all figured out?”
“There are more questions in my mind now than there were.”
“Same here.”
Bran joined us, his normal excited demeanor changed like a sharp knife that had been used to cut bone. He was dull, chipped, and not very pretty to look at. “I’m sick,” he groaned.
A sailor nearby laughed and called, “Don’t eat the greasy pork they’re serving tonight.”
Bran’s face paled even more.
“Crackers,” I said quickly. “Eat crackers and stay up here where there is fresh air.” I was thinking any mess he made might go over the side instead of having to clean it in the berth, and all of us smelling it. From the looks of him, it was only a matter of time.
He took my seat after casting a look that should have been a warning to the sailor that he’d made one too many jokes. If I was that sailor, I’d stay out of his way. If Bran felt better, he’d have taken a swing at the man.
The night air was warm, too warm to be comfortable sleeping. A sheen of sweat covered us all. In Dire, the air cooled as the sun set. I wished for that again.
Sleeping outside on the deck was a consideration if allowed. The sailors didn’t, but the confined space and old boots smell of the room where hammocks hung didn’t appeal. Bran would feel the same, only more so.
I went to the galley and grabbed a fist-sized loaf of hard bread, a few salted crackers, and sat in one of the four chairs bolted to the floor to keep them in place in heavy weather.
*Anna?*
One of the good things about talking with my mind is that I could still chew while doing so.
*Hello.*
*Are you camped at the base of the mountain?*
*Yes. Near the river. We have a path up to the dragon.*
*Our captain thinks we can sail up the river, at least, part of the way.*
She paused before answering, then said, *The river is low. There is a place where it is too shallow for any ship, but it is about halfway up the river and easily spotted. There is hardly any current.*
*Anything else?*
She giggled, which is funny when done mentally. I found myself grinning, and a sailor that entered the room looked at me warily. I must have seemed silly or daft. He took his food and departed with a backward glance as he reached the ladder.
I quizzed her on the letters, and she knew them all. I gave her three more. Yes, that was excessive maybe, but she had been doing so well and had the time to study.
I’d expected Anna to tell me more about what was happening with Kendra and the dragon. She had been quiet, too quiet. But if there was trouble, she would have shared that with me. I went into the sleeping room, which I called that because I didn’t know the correct name for it.
The smell of the sleeping compartment was not overpowering, but pervasive and unpleasant. Each breath gathered the accumulated smells born by people living in a small space. Instead of complaining, there were other things to try. First, I produced a faint fog, or
mist, not much but enough to cool the room slightly.
To the fog, I subtly manipulated a few odors and made them friendly scents. I understood that even with magic, nothing is ever really created or destroyed. It is changed. A few scents were easy to make stronger, overpowering those I didn’t like. Others were reduced, a few eliminated, and even a few added, such as the scent of pine I’d been thinking about earlier. I sniffed and approved.
I went to the bow of the compartment, as far away from the exit ladder as possible, and strung a hammock for myself. The tricky part was getting in, but once that had been accomplished, I decided to let my mind wander again. There was something I missed, something my mind insisted on telling me. I refused to listen. That had been a routine for solving problems for years. Never think about it directly, but the mind will decide.
The mind decided it was time for me to sleep again. Instead of the restless, fitful sleep on the deck, this sleep was deep and dreamless. I heard others moving about the sleeping cabin a few times but managed to ignore them.
A sailor woke me. “The captain would like to speak with you, sir. He’s in the wheelhouse.”
The sun was up. I fought off the brilliant rays and followed the young man to the captain. He stood in the wheelhouse, at a table chest high, a chart unrolled in front of him.
A glance ahead revealed land. I looked down at the chart and found two tiny islands and a river inland. The chart gave depths of the water, even in the river.
He said, “Rivers are tricky. The bottoms change with time, or after storms. This one looks deep enough to sail you near your destination.”
Without thinking, I stupidly said what Anna had told me the night before, “The river is low. About halfway to the mountain is a shallow place you cannot sail past. You should let us off before that.”
His eyes told me of his anger, but I didn’t know why. I asked, “Is something wrong?”
“I do not condone liars.”
The heat in his words took me back. I said firmly, “If you’re talking about me, I do not lie.”
He balled his fists. “Do not take me for a fool. When we last spoke, you knew nothing of the area, not even where to find it on a chart. Now, you know the level of the river and the depth of the water, as well that there are rapids at the half-way mark. Yet, you claim you have not lied. Explain how that can be.”