The Witch (Dragon Eyes Book 1)

by Kristina Hlaváčková

  “Rise Michael, son of Magnus, and take your rightful place at the court.” Michael rose. They stood facing each other, a skinny girl and a maturing boy surrounded by the cold stone walls and bars of the cell.

  All of a sudden Elena laughed. The magic of the moment vanished.

  “Here comes the hard part. We have to get out of here,” she twittered almost happily and Michael grinned. This he really wanted to see. Princess or not, she was still a little tike and as far as the training ground was concerned, her word did not count nearly as much as Aaron’s did. Aaron locked him up; Aaron was the only one who could let him go. Elena moved to the bars and called the guard. He appeared from around a corner, opened the door, and let her out.

  “He comes with me!” Elena announced in her father’s authoritative tone of voice. She managed the tone perfectly, and accompanied it with a look of total authority. There was just a tiny drawback. She lacked her father’s mass of muscle and respect.

  “Sure, moppet.” The guard roared with laughter and banged the cell door shut behind her. She didn’t even blink. He bent over to look her in the eye.

  “Go on, now!” he urged her to leave. Elena stood motionless, staring him square in the eyes.

  “From now on, Michael the son of Magnus is the captain of my personal guard. As such, everything he does in the course of my protection is above the training ground rules. Therefore there is no reason to keep him locked up.” Michael had to admire her determination as the guard didn’t even try to hide his sneer. He didn’t even bother to give her argument a thought. It occurred to her that running to fetch Aaron would solve the matter. He would need just a word, maybe even a gesture. But only a small girls ran for help! And she was a warrior. A princess! Defiance won. Had she gone for Aaron or her father for help, she would only prove she was the little kid everybody thought her to be.

  “Open the door!” she ordered firmly and the guard straightened up, the grin disappearing from his face. For the first time he actually considered her argument.

  “You don’t have a personal guard, princess,” he commented. She smiled at him proudly.

  “I do, now.” Elena was short with clothes rather dusty and a split lip, but somehow she looked very dignified. All of a sudden the man was uncertain. The girl was serious, totally convinced of her right.

  “Your highness will forgive me, but I can’t let a prisoner out of the cell without a direct order from my commander.”

  Hmm, that didn’t work then, Elena thought. At least he was beginning to take her seriously. Someone was coming from the corridor behind her, she could hear him and turned. Aaron appeared from the gloom. All he needed to understand, was one look at Elena’s face. Suppressing a smile, he nodded to the guard.

  ◆◆◆

  Meeting the dragons had changed Elena’s life. The whole world had different colors; it was full of new smells and sounds. At times she had trouble staying focused. Her mother didn’t make it any easier by watching over her like a hawk. Their time together was a lot longer, full of learning and training. What Elena was learning had also changed. Ashka was training her not only in kras, the Adragon martial arts, but mostly in magic. It was quite a drill. Most of the time Elena was learning to control and hide her powers, which was not really a new thing, but greater powers required more effort and more skill to hide. Her mother’s lessons were extremely tiring; each day Elena left them half-asleep.

  Wherever she went, someone was with her. If she was not with her mother, Michael was there trying to fulfil his new duty. Even though he was doing his best to stay in the background, his never-ending presence was almost palpable to the girl. Solitude, the freedom to do what she liked and wanted, her trips with Ashkent, or sitting behind the throne listening to court of justice, or just quiet moments with a book, all of these became an unreachable luxury.

  Then, one afternoon Elena found herself without duties to fulfill nor lessons to take. Determined to keep the promise she had given Father, she went looking for Michael. She discovered him in the kitchen. He had just finished his lunch and was talking to a young chubby cook.

  “How about a little ride?” she asked her guardian. Michael stood up and bowed gently.

  “ ’s you wish.” Elena frowned and turned her eyes to heavens. The chivalry he thought she was due, and the exaggerated respect were annoying her. He never used to treat her like that before.

  She whisked him away crossly when he offered to saddle her horse. For a moment, he watched as she pulled out a stool and started saddling Ashkent. Shrugging his shoulders he disappeared into the next stall.

  “Don’t even think about it!” she barked at him, when he stepped forward to give her a leg up. He halted. The Animal was so huge and Elena so short she could easily walk under his belly, if she ducked her head just ever so slightly. So it was a sight to see watching her jump into the saddle easily. Out of pure joy that she was in the saddle again, she dashed through the courtyard at a gallop, hurtling through the gates at neck breaking speed, causing the guards to scramble out of her way. Michael caught up with her several kilometers later, when she decided to slow down.

  The two horses cantered side by side for a few minutes.

  “There are a few things we need to sort out,” Elena said all of a sudden. Since Michael had been her guard, this was the first time she had seemed happy and at ease. Something was happening around her and bothering her. He could sense it, but he had no clue what it was.

  “Yes, your highness” he answered with no idea how close he was to being slapped, or kicked in the teeth.

  “First, stop calling me your highness, madam, my lady, and all the other stupid pleasantries and nonsense. You will use pleasantries, bows, and affectations as little as possible. And only if absolutely necessary.” Michael drew a breath to answer, but Elena stopped him with a quick gesture. “I’m not finished! I do understand there is something called protocol, by which you are bound, but the only thing that excuses you is my father’s presence, or the presence of some other big shot. My name is Elena and you used to know that,” she reproached him. For a moment Michael wondered, if he had really heard her say big shot.

  “And I can take care of myself. I’m not a baby. I can saddle my own horse and get onto its back, and a ton of other things, too. You’ve spent a great amount of time at the training ground with me, so you should know that by now. If I needed a nanny or a servant, I would would’ve found someone better qualified for it. I suppose I don’t have to explain what personal guard means!” She was angry. Red-hot angry. All the furry accumulated over quite a while had to vent.

  For a moment, Michael gawped at her silently.

  “Aye!” He nodded finally. With quite an effort he managed not to add “my lady.”

  “One more thing; they’ll let Dars out tomorrow. I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me, but I’ll deal with my brothers alone. I know it might not seem that way, sometimes, but I can handle them. And if I can’t, I have to learn. I refuse to be a little shrimp who needs to be protected from everything and everyone, even her own family. And I don’t want you to make them your enemies.”

  “Is that an order?” he asked carefully. He didn’t like leaving her at Dars’ mercy. Didn’t like it the least bit.

  Elena laughed: “Yes, it is.”

  Then she changed the subject, and slowly they started talking, beginning to build a lasting, strong friendship.

  ◆◆◆

  Amidst battle rampage Elena found herself facing her brother. Horses neighing, sounds of wooden swords, traks and trakeshes clashing against one another, shouting; the imitation of battle turmoil was almost perfect; only the smell of blood was missing. The forest swarmed with two legions of youngsters and their practice battle. Instead of having their blood spilled, the wounded and dead were walking to their designated posts.

  Elena didn’t like the sneer on her brother’s face in the least bit. He had a red band on his sleeve, marking his team. Elena had none, telling him she was from
the enemy camp. In this fake battle, enemies could do almost anything to each other with impunity. It was a battle after all. It was meant to heart! All the fighters were to do their best to defeat their enemy. Short of killing or crippling their opponents, of course.

  “There’s no training ground rules here,” Dars hissed. Michael appeared from a bush behind him and ran towards the two. Elena concentrated and frowned.

  “Stop!” she ordered. Michael halted, uncertain. It was a bad idea, he thought grudgingly, but obeyed. Crouched and alert he waited.

  “Keep everyone else off my back!” she had time to shout, before Dars attacked.

  One wooden weapon hit another. Dars’ charges were fast and precise. Elena parried briskly. She was probably not under a death threat, but she was going to get her butt kicked, and viciously at that, should she lose the fight. Her brother wanted to hurt her. They danced around each other. Relying on his strength, Dars was using a long heavy sword against Elena’s thin short one. He was a lot taller, stodgier and stronger. And furious. He parried a few of Elena’s charges far too easily. Michael watched restlessly. Dars was getting the edge. Then two young warriors appeared from a bush. They were both wearing arm bands. Michael attacked.

  Elena blocked one of Dars’ lunges. He aimed at her shoulder from above, the charge so furious her legs buckled under her a bit. He tried to kick her knee. Elena lifted her foot slightly and kicked out. Dars did not expect that. Her shin hit him right above the ankle. He yelped and jumped back.

  “You’ll pay for that!” He was breathing heavily. Elena felt the anger rise within her. It was as if her blood was beginning to boil. She was not going to let him beat the pulp out of her! For a moment she tried to stay out of his reach. Dars attacked again. His dull but heavy sword edge aimed at her ribs. Gripping her own weapon in both hands she swung it downwards to parry his charge. The wooden blades collided. There was a loud crack. Elena tried to jump away, but tripped over a root and fell on her back, rolling immediately. Dars’ sword missed her head only by millimeters. Leaping to her feet, she looked at her sword. It was cracked badly, holding together by only a few splinters. Dars laughed a maniacal laugh. He hadn’t anticipated her to resist so efficiently. His rage grew with every attack she managed to ward off.

  Her sword broken. His laughter. Long controlled furry rose within her. She’d had enough of him! Of all the malice and spite. Anger mingled with defiance and the desire to finally show him his place. At last, the slow burning fuse of her emotions reached its end, igniting a huge explosion within her, flooding her with an icy fire of bright clear contours.

  Michael, now fighting the second of his two attackers, saw Elena out of the corner of his eye. Her head shot up. She straightened her back and hurled her broken weapon towards Dars. Flying hilt first, the sword slammed the inattentive boy in the nose.

  In a flash of movement, Elena reached for the trakesh slung on her back. The short fighting stick was in her hand the moment Dars charged with a scream. Elena turned so fast, he had no time to react. Her trakesh left its scabbard, drew an elegant curve and hit Dars over the back. Combination of his own weight and the sheer strength of the impact sent him flat to the ground. He jumped up to plunge toward his sister again. The trakesh in her hand swirled so fast he had no chance to counter and took hard hit in the chest.

  For the first time in her life Elena used kras against another person. As she whirled and danced circles around her brother, the stick in her hand swished, lashed, and stabbed at such a speed, Dars failed to even follow it. Aside from the merciless blows showering his body, the furious whizzing and zipping of the trakesh was all he managed to comprehend. Suddenly he was not facing his little sister but a new, uncatchable opponent.

  Michael and his two, now dead, enemies watched in shocked silence, as Elena danced around her brother, who was unsuccessfully trying to strike her with his sword. Michael wondered if he was seeing things. Elena seemed to move so fast she blurred. Driven by red hot furry, Dars stood no chance against the girl’s icy rage. He tried to strike Elena in the face. Soaring through the air the fighting stick smacked his fingers, sending the sword flying out of his hand. Drawing another lighting fast elegant arch her weapon caught Dars behind the knees. His legs jerked upwards, and he hit the ground spread eagled, wind knocked out of his lungs. Elena didn’t give him the slightest chance to get up. Kneeling on his chest, she pushed the trakesh end into the pit under his Adam’s apple and bent over him.

  “End of discussion! Forever!” she hissed. His eyes widened with fear. It wasn’t her voice, the trakesh pressed to his neck, nor her weight on his chest. It were her eyes. He looked into them and froze with horror. Her pupils were oblong, reptile-like; the natural brown of her irises replaced by piercing green-blue. Those eyes were as cold and sharp as a knife.

  “Let me go!” he pleaded shakily.

  “You’ll leave me be,” she announced in a very quiet, matter of fact voice. Slowly, her eyes began to change, her pupils turning round, the sharp green-blue subsiding to the usual dark brown. Watching the change was even scarier than looking into her reptilian eyes a few moments a go.

  “I swear, I swear!” Dars wailed and closed his eyes. The pressure on his chest slackened. Elena turned her back on him and with the trakesh still in hand walked over to Michael. She was breathing hard.

  “What about them?” She broke their shocked silence.

  “They’re dead,” Michael answered slightly absentminded, staring at motionless Dars lying on the ground.

  “Take him with you, he’s out,” Elena ordered sharply and ran into the trees. Battle was not yet over and they still had to try sneak through the enemy territory and to the target station. Michael followed. Even though he was older, more experienced, and far better trained, he had a hard time keeping up with the girl. With the trakesh in hand she was unstoppable. She passed through the enemy defense as a knife through butter.

  ◆◆◆

  News about Elena smashing her brother spread fast. However, the disgraced, battered, but not seriously hurt Dars was silent. He never wanted to see those eyes again. The memory of the look in them horrified him.

  Elena sat in the gardens, her back to a tree, knees under her chin. Michael watched her thoughtfully a while before moving to join her. She didn’t seem to notice him, her eyes unfocused, staring into distance somewhere far away below the grass at her feet. She was obviously trying to sort things out in her head.

  “Can I ask you something?” he spoke gently, not to startle her.

  “Hm?” murmured she absentmindedly.

  “How did ya’ do it?” Michael asked quietly. So quietly Elena could barely hear him.

  “What?” She kept staring at nothing.

  “I heard ya’ yell at me, but ya’ lips didn’t move.” For a moment, he doubted whether she had even noticed the question, since she continued to sit absolutely still for quite a while. All of a sudden, millimeter by millimeter, she turned her head. Their eyes locked.

  “I did that?”

  “Aye!” Michael was so sure! “I heard ya’. But it was different… Well, inside my head, sort of.” He tried to describe the odd occurrence reluctantly.

  “Don’t know.” Elena whispered. And then blundered out, wanting to explain: “I just thought of stopping you. And then… it just… worked. I didn’t really... try.”

  “Aye, ya’re telepathic.” He nodded.

  Then she surprised him by asking: “Will you be afraid of me?” Her voice trembled, which was very much out of character. For the first time since he met her, she looked like a very young and very scared child. The confident warrior from a few hours earlier was suddenly gone. Michael laughed out loud merrily.

  “Come on now! Why should I?!” He nudged her in the ribs. “We ought’ learn it properly, ya’ know. Can ya’ tech me? It would be huge tactical advantage if we both managed to do that. Ya’ know, while I’m ya’r personal guard and all that.”

  This time it was Elena, who laughed. �
��And we won’t tell anyone!”

  “Sure won’t! Wouldn’t be a tactical advantage if we did.” He winked at her, trying to perk her up. It really didn’t take a genius to see something was bothering the princess.

  She was scared. She was scared of herself. And she was terrified that Michael would turn his back on her, because she was… a monster. The Berber did not think of magic very kindly. As a matter of fact, they tended to deal promptly and most definitely finally with everything that was in any way magical.

  It was a great relief that he found the situation amusing rather than appalling. Even so, it took a lot of Michael’s imminent friendship and more than a load of jokes and hard work on Michael’s part to disperse Elena’s doubts and fears.

  Philip watched them, slowly approaching to join them. Elena looked up at him with happy sparks in her eyes. Michael got up.

  “May I?” Philip addressed the boy. Michael looked down at Elena questioningly. She nodded ever so slightly and Michael moved out of the picture as Philip sat next to his sister. Was he imagining things, or did those happy sparks lose part of their shine as he did so?

  “You’re a beast!” he smiled at the world in general. “I heard it was quite a show!” Just as a whole bunch of other boys, he simply wished he could have witnessed the spectacle. “Will you tell me what happened?”

  Elena shrugged. “What would you expect, it was just Dars. He was his furious, charismatic, charming old self,” she replied simply.

  “Will do him good. Everyone comments on how great it is he hasn’t said a word since he got out of the forest,” grinned Philip.

  “Well, I did hardly anything to him,” she defended herself halfheartedly.

  “Not what I heard.”