“Ready, Beastie?”
“Sure!” She laughed happily and pressed tightly to his neck. Making an elegant loop, he folded his wings and plunged headlong towards the square. Mesmerized, the elves watched the beast disappear into the clouds, then appear again rushing down with crazy neck-breaking speed, the rider on its back lying low on its neck. The dragon opened his wings only meters above the ground, rapidly slowing his fall. He flipped over onto his back and took to the air again. The rider sat up. Wilbur performed another loop and elegantly landed on the grass. With a quick, inconspicuous movement, Elena loosened the straps holding her legs to the stirrups, and slid from Wilbur’s back onto his leg and jumped to the ground.
Ashka gasped in shock. The billowing red hair gave the skinny figure away to be her daughter. Displaying dignified confidence, Elena walked up to the queens. With her right hand she made a complicated gesture expressing her respect to both women, and bowed. All present elves held their breath. Though her gesture did express respect, it failed to convey her inferiority. She stood there, dignified and self-assured, her eyes shining, obviously conscious of the impression she has made. No one before her had ever ridden a dragon. No one before her had ever flown with the masters of the sky. No one! She was aware of the privilege. Though they were both aware Ashrack was going to go berserk, when he found out, Wilbur and she would deal with that later.
“Where have you been?” Ashka snapped instead of a greeting. Elena in return said her greetings, but paid no further attention to her mother, turning to the Queen of elves. Conscious of the fact that attack was the best form of defense, she decided not to beat around the bush.
“I’m aware of the consequences of my rapid departure, lady Alivan. I will, however, not apologize for my actions because I was treated unfairly. I returned only to avoid causing more inconvenience to all concerned, or to be more exact, so I would not be the cause of any more disputes. If my information is correct, and due to its source I am not inclined to doubt that, it is desirable that I finish my training. To make that possible, we need to discuss my conditions.”
“Your conditions?” Alivan finally managed to speak and her tone was sharp. Elena bowed ever so slightly.
“Yes, my lady. I have conditions. And if the prophecy is true, it is for the sake of all that they are fulfilled.” Elena could not but notice how alarmed Ashka seemed at the mention of the prophecy. Alivan opened her mouth to retort, but Wilbur growled at her quietly, yet threateningly. Unnoticed by either of the two women, he had moved behind Elena and lay in the grass so he would have his head directly next to the girl. In his own way, he looked like an overgrown puppy guarding his mistress. The moment he growled, however, he was very dangerous, overgrown puppy and not even the Queen of the elves could ignore that.
“Listen to her, Alivan,” he added so everyone could hear him inside their minds. After a moment of hesitation, Alivan humbly bowed her head to the dragon.
“What are your conditions then, Eleanor?” she asked icily.
“Firstly, you will be honest with me. No more lying, secrecy, nor half-truths. I want to know everything that concerns me. Secondly, Failon is a great teacher and I would appreciate him to continue as my mentor, but the dragons will be teaching me how to control the power of my blood, not him. With all due respect to Failon’s extensive knowledge, he has no clue what he is dealing with and almost killed us both in his attempt.”
“We cannot decide for the masters of the sky,” interrupted Alivan.
“The decision has been made already. I will teach Elena, and I am confident father will not object,” Wilbur joint the conversation again and Elena lovingly caressed his shiny scales.
“Furthermore I ask that Michael receives appropriate schooling and training, and that we are both allowed to also learn crafts.” Elena continued.
“Where is the boy?” Ashka asked, because she finally noticed Michael was not present. Elena gave her a weak smile.
“He is awaiting your decision in a safe hiding place. Should you not agree to my terms, we will leave and never return. Should you comply, I would appreciate if someone accompanied me to fetch him.”
“Is that all?” barked Alivan, unable to keep rage out of her voice and manner. As expected, she didn't take kindly to the nestling dictating conditions to her, the Queen of elves. Elena smiled and shook her head.
“I reserve the right to decide about my life in the same measure allowed to elf children. I also ask to have the right to refuse teachers that think my training an inferior matter and me an unbearable burden. I am here to learn, not to be the target for those who need to vent their anger because they think my ancestors did them wrong. Now decide whether I should stay or not.” Elena went silent, awaiting any kind of reaction. None came.
“I hope I don’t need to mention that decisions about me will not be made without me, let alone behind my back. Also, I would like to ask that my friends be treated with the respect they deserve, not with the disdain and prejudice of the past.”
“Now, that will take some time for Alivan to stomach,” Wilbur sneered.
“Didn’t you say she would have to?” Elena replied in her thoughts and Wilbur laughed.
“I didn’t say it was going to be easy for her to stomach.”
“At least she doesn’t know which friends I’m talking about, so it might not be that much of a problem,” Elena wondered.
“Not at the moment, no. What happened to your sincerity?”
“I’m just giving them a taste of their own medicine.” Despite actually feeling bad about it, but that she did not mention to him. He, however, felt it to be the case.
Ashka folded her arms in self-defense. She found it difficult to recognize her daughter in the girl facing Alivan, Queen of elves, actually dictating terms. Something must have happened, this was someone else standing here. Someone too grownup for their age. Elena spoke quietly, but there was no doubt her voice carried far enough for all the onlookers to hear. Ashka couldn’t decide whether that was intentional. At least the silly child restrained from making Alivan look like a fool. As long as the Queen of elves was allowed to save appearance before her subjects, nothing was lost. Perhaps.
“Will you explain why you ran and thus endangered not only your own life?” Alivan asked instead of answering, trying to buy time. Elena shrugged.
“I felt threatened by attempts to control my powers. Nobody cared what was happening to me, nobody listened to me. My own family made a point of letting me know that I was more than unwelcome.”
“What exactly has been going on here?!” Ashka finally joint the conversation. It was beginning to dawn on her that someone had kept important information away from her. Elena glared at Alivan, the expression of her eyes quite similar to that of her great-aunt. Elena’s look was cold, and for such a small girl, very hard. Ashka’s question remained unanswered.
“The power of dragon blood is mine. I am here to learn how to control it, how to use it. I am here to learn how to be in control instead of being controlled. The purpose of my stay is to learn, not to be manipulated by political ambitions and interests of other parties. I refuse to be anybody’s toy nor tool, I will not follow orders blindly. I will consider all your opinions and your advice, but I shall not be an unthinking weapon that destroys everything and everyone you point it at, because if I allow that, I will be no better than those you are so afraid of.”
Judging by Alivan’s lips tightly pressed together, Elena had touched the Queen on the raw.
It occurred to Alivan that the easiest way to deal with the situation would be to expel the ill-mannered brat and her mother from the Western Forests. Let her do whatever she can. Let her find out for herself what’s what. She, the powerful Queen of elves, had offered hospitality and knowledge of her nation and this spoiled kid would dictate terms to her?! To her?! The little tiddler would insult and denigrate her?!
The Queen was horrifying. It wasn’t difficult to recognize her emotions. When her hair upheaved and
began to blow with no wind to move it, her face went pale and her eyes glowed like ambers, Elena wanted to run. If she did, everything would be lost. Face to face with the furious elven Queen, Elena’s defiance began to fade, but she refused to let it show. Ashka stood, silently contemplating that her daughter had pushed her luck, had put her great-aunt’s patience to a trial beyond its limits.
Suddenly, Elena moved and did something unheard of. Before Alivan had a chance to react, Elena embraced her great-aunt with a warm, firm hug, sinking her face into the meanders of expensive fabric. Then, she lifted her head to look Alivan in the face.
“I love you auntie. And I want to stay here with you and learn. But if we are all to survive it safe and sound, … please, please, accept my conditions!” Elena pleaded.
In utter disbelieve, Ashka stared at her daughter. Everybody stared. I love you auntie? I love you? Auntie? Alivan was not the type to be loved. She was not the type to be called auntie either. And doing so with impunity was simply unthinkable. Alivan was more of the type you would respect, admire, maybe worship or even hate with all your heart. But she definitely wasn’t easy to like. She was so impassible and distant, it was almost impossible to like her, nonetheless love her. Thanks gods Elena at least called her an aunt. Thank gods the child didn’t call attention to the queen’s age by addressing her as great-aunt. Ashka took a step back, expecting thunderstorm. Or possibly a hurricane.
Finally Alivan overcame the shock that Elena just delivered. She pushed the child away from herself and held her at arm’s length, squatting down elegantly to be at Elena’s eye level. The crowd hummed in astonishment. Surprised, Wilbur lifted his head.
“What was it you just said?” asked the ice Queen so quietly, Ashka standing next to her, had trouble hearing her.
“That I love you. That’s what I said. You are my aunt, my blood, my family,” said the child, whom, after all, Elena was.
“If I accede to your terms, will you comply with the laws of this forest, to the laws of my people?”
“Yes, aunt!”
“Alright then. But do not call me aunt.”
“Does that mean we have reached an agreement?” A careful smile spread across Elena’s face.
“Yes,” answered the Queen of elves. Elena grinned and flung herself around Alivan’s neck. She hugged her so tightly, Alivan could hardly breathe. To crown the affectionate impropriety, Elena landed a kiss on her great-aunt’s cheek and hollered: “Thanks, auntie!”
“At least not in public,” murmured Alivan.
“Sure, your highness!” Elena laughed and curtsied. She turned to Wilbur, and stopped, quickly getting back to business. “I need someone to accompany me to fetch Michael.”
“The child is impertinent!” With her chin proudly lifted, Alivan rebuked Ashka. Then she turned on her heal and disappeared into the coronation hall.
“Good job!” Wilbur complimented Elena as soon as he took off with her in the saddle again.
“I’m pretty sure there is some kind of a catch,” Elena replied.
“You’re unbelievable!” Wilbur shook his head.
“I’m glad I did not have to use that trick with my eyes.”
“Why?” Wilbur asked.
“I would have been scared to death I would blow them both to pieces,” Elena said and Wilbur laughed: “It is not a trick.”
“I can’t help feeling like a magician’s trained bear.”
“Trained bears do not fly astride dragons,” Wilbur commented drily. Elena leaned forward to hug the part of his neck she could reach.
Wilbur descended to his father. He sensed his mad fury only a fraction of a second before his legs touched the rock. Too late. Ashrack whipped around to smash his son’s snout with a huge paw. Unstable on the edge of the cliff’s edge, not standing firmly, with his wings half folded, Wilbur staggered and fell, tumbling down from the cave, hitting the ground heavily at the foot of the hill. It was not a long fall, but long enough to leave Wilbur badly battered. Ashrack leaped, landing directly next to his son and growled. He even bared his fangs.
“HOW DARE YOU!” he snarled. Wilbur backed away from him clumsily.
“YOU WERE TO BRING HER BACK, NOT TO DISGRACE OUR ENTIRE NATION!” barked the dragon King. There was nowhere for Wilbur to back away to. He straightened and faced his father, also bearing his fangs, also growling in reply: “I disgraced no one.”
“HOW DARE YOU DEROGATE YOURSELF TO A POSITION OF SOME MULE!! DRAGONS NEVER SUBMIT TO THE WILL OF A RIDER. NEVER, DO YOU HEAR?! WE SHALL NOT BE PERCEIVED AS BURROS CARRYING LOAD!” Ashrack was furious. He snapped at Wilbur’s neck. His son moved to defend himself. One dragon jaw hit another.
“I submit to no one and I am not a mule. I don’t have a bit and I am not ridden. We fly together and I say where! It was not her idea, but mine. It’s only between the two of us. Our agreement concerns nobody else! You wanted me to bring her back whatever the price.” Both dragons circled each other warily. Ashrack attacked a few more times, than lashed his tail angrily and flew off.
“I’m so sorry!” Elena caressed his freshly healed nozzle gently. She had known something was wrong even before he landed and she had a chance to look at him properly. Though his injuries weren’t serious, she insisted on healing them.
“These are bite marks! From very big teeth!” She exclaimed out loud and gave him a reproachful look. “So?! Spill it!” she urged. Wilbur didn’t want to argue. Besides, he needed to get it out of his system. Elena listened attentively. And frowned.
“Family!” she snorted. “When will our parents learn we didn’t hatch yesterday, that we can think for ourselves?!” Elena fussed.
“But you didn’t hatch at all.”
“Matter of speech. What’s the difference? I’m sorry you’re in trouble because of me. But I appreciate that I can fly with you.” She got up and hugged his neck. Then they talked it all through. Wilbur was glad to have someone to talk to.
8 CHAPTER
THE RISE OF NITRAM
The man shuffling through shadowy corridors with his shoulders hunched, and leaning on a cane looked a lot older than he really was. His face was lit by a happy sneer. For decades the Citadel had been his home and he was convinced he was the only one to know all its little traps. He even conceived some of them. He found it entertaining, when someone unfortunate overlooked any of them.
Lately, he often sensed somebody following him through the corridors. Whoever it was, they were truly persistent and far too well informed. For quite some time the old king had tried to either shake the pursuer off or lure him into one of the traps. So far he was unsuccessful. Though he was the prey in this hunt, he had quite enjoyed the entertainment for a while. However, this specific pursuer was now getting on the kings nerves. It wouldn’t take long before he, if indeed it were a he, attacked. The king, however, did not intend to wait for the attack to come. Finding the correct entrance was so easy, he didn’t even need to count the doors. He made sure to be within sight of his follower, reached for the doorknob, opened the door and entered.
Without a moment’s hesitation he straightened his back, tossed his cane gaily to catch it in its approximate middle, and took three steps directly to the left. Before the door closed behind him, he stepped onto a pillar sticking up from the darkness approximately half a meter from the slant floor and the wall. Standing there, he waited.
Careful footsteps sounded from the corridor. Then, the door opened slowly. A man peered inside cautiously, but the room was dark. Unwilling to step into the unknown, the man hesitated. Strange things have been whispered about the old king. It was not a mechanical trap he was afraid of, the king would not have walked into such a room.
A square of light coming from the hallway revealed an unlit torch only two steps from the door. He walked inside and reached for the torch to light it. The door clicked shut behind him. Swearing, he grabbed the torch to pull it out of its socket. The floor sunk under his feet. In vain he tried to break his fall, crashing down into a
black pit below, meeting his death on planted iron stakes.
“Wrong move, boy,” the king laughed with his usual dry laughter. Reaching for the thin torch stuck onto the wall behind his back, he lit it. Though there were times when he ran over the stone pillars in the dark just for the thrill of it, he was a bit older now and no longer craved unnecessary risk. It was a lot more fun to watch the others die. And indeed, his confident walk across the pillars to the other side of the deadly chamber was accompanied by quiet wheezing of the dying man.
“It’s hard to find good servants, lately,” the king commented at dinner.
“The reason being, father, that you entertain yourself by catching them in your little mousetraps.”
“Had they any sense, they would stay in place assigned to them,” the king replied mockingly. His son remained silent.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the half-breed that was trying to kill me, would you, now?” The king watched his son put on a scandalized look.
“Again? Father, we must put an end to these attempts on your life!”
“I am confident that that is exactly what you are trying to do,” answered the older man with an ironic sneer of his.
“Father, I hope you’re not suggesting it’s me who’s trying to kill you!” Nitram sounded offended. The king smiled at him. He did not suspect his son of the assassination attempts. He was absolutely sure it was him. It was his son Nitram who would gain the most by his, the king’s, death. Besides, he was basically raised to reach for this kind of a solution and his father would have expected nothing less of him. But the king did not feel like dying either.
“I’m neither old nor frail enough to be unable to take care of myself. And I don’t need to imply anything,” the king replied.
“I would never try to kill you, father. I respect you too much for that,” said Nitram seriously and the old king laughed, sounding like a pile of deadwood being cut with a saw. It was an amused laughter.
The Witch (Dragon Eyes Book 1) Page 28