Dragonhunters

by Sabrina Chase

  “It’s ground–‌up levitators! You remember the wreckage from Siebert’s laboratory, how it was floating about the ceiling after the accident? Well, with what you had said in your letters we decided to try another way. What did we have to lose? And this way, the magical element is well away from the engines, and we don’t have to be quite so precise. It was a bit of bother to figure out pulleys and such that don’t use iron, but bronze works quite well if you don’t abuse it.” He broke off to yell some orders to the crew.

  “You said this was just a prototype?” Dominic asked, propped up against one of the central attachments. Despite the pain of his injuries, he had kept up a constant stream of questions. Ardhuin smiled.

  “Oh, we have bigger ones! They just thought this would be a better idea for the purpose. Besides being easier to hide on the way up. We’re trying to keep it to ourselves for a while.” Jens–‌Peter grinned. “I’m to captain the next one being built!”

  Besides MacCrimmon, a group of elders from the valley were assembled at the collection of white tents on the narrow plain, escorted by Sonam, looking dashing in bandages. Ardhuin and the others were carried into one of the tents on stretchers.

  “Why are we not in the valley itself? It’s a long walk for them.”

  Sonam tilted his head. “There is still fighting. The soldiers that came are dealing with the guards left by Denais. They said we would be safer here until they are done.”

  “Did they find Korda?”

  Sonam shook his head.

  “I believe I may have seen this Korda, running from the valley,” MacCrimmon said. “Short man, thinning hair? I did not want to stop him and reveal myself—‌like the others who were freed, he did not seem entirely sane.”

  Ardhuin glanced around the tent. A handful of Preusan soldiers and a medical orderly were inside. “Would you mind casting an obscurer spell?”

  MacCrimmon nodded and gestured. “You are still fatigued?”

  “Yes. Denais is most definitely dead, but this Korda appears to have learned how to cast geasi from him—‌and from what we have discovered, he has been stealing the magical salts and sending them to places only he knows. Fräulein von Kitren intercepted one such shipment, but…‌he has the knowledge and now the ability to do much of what Denais did. And now he thinks that the Mage Guardians will kill him because of that knowledge.”

  MacCrimmon winced. “I wish I had known, then. I am sorry, Sonam. We did not solve the problem completely.”

  Sonam made another effacing gesture. “It is difficult for me to say…‌the elders do not understand the danger. That if any outsider with ill intent knows of the unique nature of the soil here, others will come to steal power.” He bowed profoundly. “They regard your service to them as a distasteful necessity. They thank you, but will be glad when you go. I am sorry. They owe their lives to you.”

  “It is not for me to tell them to change their ways—‌but we must find a means to protect them, and the rest of the world, despite their views.” MacCrimmon smiled weakly.

  So we don’t tell them what we are doing. “I have some suggestions,” Ardhuin said, “but they can wait. As long as we are sure there is no immediate danger…‌”

  Her eye was drawn to the entrance of the tent and a group of people bringing in another stretcher. Markus Asgaya followed on crutches, his otherwise bare chest covered by a mass of bandages and his arms red with burns. Despite the lines of pain and fatigue on his face, his expression was much more cheerful than she had last seen. She tilted her head at MacCrimmon as Markus approached, and the sound dampener disappeared.

  “She opened her eyes as they were bringing her in on the ship,” Markus reported. “The doctor says that is a good sign.”

  Ardhuin felt a little of her own anxiety lessen. “That is excellent news. Gutrune is amazingly robust, but even she cannot withstand falling down a mountain without ill effect.”

  Markus collapsed on a cot with a groan. “If you would endeavor to convince her of this I will be eternally in your debt. Oh, look there. It’s the little blue dragon.”

  It was indeed the little blue kai–‌ling, wrapped around the arm of one of the Bhuta elders. The elder came over to Sonam and spoke briefly with him, but the kai–‌ling buzzed into the air as soon as it saw her. It circled around, making a curious kind of clicking purr, until it settled on her pillow, right next to her head.

  Dominic was chuckling. “I believe you have formed a friend for life, dear. There is a little image of a fish in front of it, made of faint magic.”

  Ardhuin reached up with her bandaged hand. The kai–‌ling shifted its head so her fingers could find the places it thought needed scratching, and it click–‌purred even more. “Who would have thought one sardine would make such an impression? I wonder why the elder brought it in here, though?”

  Sonam smiled. “It was trying to find you and being a nuisance. This sometimes happens to the young ones. They find a person they prefer, usually someone with strong magic, and will not be driven away.”

  “Oh dear.” Ardhuin looked at the kai–‌ling with dismay. “Will it try to follow us back home?”

  “Yes, of course. Is this not desired? They are very good for sending messages, as you saw, and they are protective of their nesting places. They serve much like Aeropan dogs in that way.”

  “It seems your choice is bringing it with you, in some level of concealment, or having it trail you all the way back to Peran,” Markus said. His words were beginning to slur as the morphia took hold. “I’m sure no one would take notice of a miniature dragon in the same colors as a festival balloon. Flying through the air, trailing your coach…‌”

  “We could keep it in the library. Plenty of room to fly in, and perhaps we could contrive a window that could be opened at need.” Dominic’s eyes brightened at the thought. “And it could guard the books.”

  “If it doesn’t eat them, or hide sardines in the shelves,” Ardhuin protested. “And I don’t want to keep opening and closing a window when it wants in or out. A cat is quite bad enough.”

  “Kai–‌ling are quite clever,” Sonam said earnestly. “If the mechanism is not complicated, you can teach it to open and close the window itself. And they never leave messes in their nests.”

  Ardhuin sighed and closed her eyes. It was clear the matter had been decided for her. She now had a little dragon as a pet. Well, her great–‌uncle had had his roses, so perhaps she was doomed to collect magical animals. I do hope he and Hermes will get along…‌

  She could hear waves splashing and smell cool salt air and feel gentle motion. Almost like being on a ship. Gutrune slowly opened her eyes and realized she was, in fact, on a ship. She was reclining on a deck chair, wrapped in several blankets, and for the first time her injuries were not a constant pressure of pain but merely an overall ache covered by deep fatigue.

  At first she thought she was alone, but then she heard a slow, rhythmic tapping and saw Markus walking slowly and stiffly up and down the deck, using a cane and the railing for balance. He looked over at her and started.

  “Awake, are you?” He came over and sat down on an adjoining deck chair with slow caution.

  Gutrune nodded, struggling to speak. Her mouth and throat were dry. “How…‌here?” she finally managed.

  “You will doubtless be happy to hear we are on the Bretagnan naval ship Regina Astraea, the royal brigantine. It appears Her Majesty is quite pleased with the lot of us. Ah, and in the Middle Sea once again.” He grinned, glancing at her. “Yes, I can see you thinking it out. Never fear, the journey across the sands was achieved without a single camel, at least in your case. We unpacked the levitation ship and managed to make the transit entirely at night. We also used that extremely handy ship to get all the wounded down from Bhuta, or we’d still be in the mountains. And it’s snowing there now, so we’d have been stuck for months. They decided it was worth the risk.”

  “Denais?” She had only fragments of memory, and she wasn’t sure
what was real and what was nightmare. Pain, and fire. Ardhuin fighting him, desperation in her eyes. A frantic, screamed plea—‌and somehow finding the last iota of strength, and her knife. An explosion, and snatches of unfamiliar faces.

  “Quite, quite dead. I will not describe the scene in detail, in deference to your health and my stomach, but I was able to identify several large portions of his body. He…‌well, I suppose you could say he came apart. Dominic’s theory is he had absorbed more power than human flesh could withstand, and coupled with the amplification effect of the dust in the air the magic discharged—‌without his control.” Markus shuddered and closed his eyes.

  “The others?” She somehow knew they were alive. Perhaps they had visited her, and in the dreamlike state of morphia she remembered this.

  “Madame Kermarec is nearly restored to health, which is a fortunate thing because Herr Kermarec is frequently distracted into forgetting his leg is still quite broken. He requires constant supervision. Herr MacCrimmon is, I fear, still quite frail, and while we do not despair of his life, his health has likely suffered permanent damage. Sonam, on the other hand, is fully recovered and quite helpful with—”

  Gutrune blinked. “Sonam? He is here?”

  Markus sighed. “Yes. I was hoping to delay that discussion until you were feeling stronger. It’s a touchy matter and rife with politics, but Madame Kermarec is, I think, losing patience with the usual way of doing things. And given that Herr Kermarec is quite determined to assist her in her plans, I have decided to ally myself entirely with them. I have seen what happens to those that oppose that pair when they get angry. Not to mention it will make my own plans much more feasible.”

  The change in his tone made her look up at him, and his gaze was both meaningful and steady. Gutrune turned her head and stared out over the sea. There was no use getting her hopes up. It was impossible.

  “I…‌I know I said, when we were done, when Denais was defeated…‌”

  “…‌that I could try. Well, if he was any more defeated, he’d be a string of sausages. Now, are you going to help me or not?” His smile lacked the usual trace of mockery. He seemed…‌happy. Genuinely happy. How could she do anything to change that? How could she deny what he asked? But how could she lie to him, even to preserve his happiness?

  “Of course I will help you. I merely…‌that is, I do not see a clear way to do anything to the purpose.”

  Markus, strangely, did not seem in the least cast down by this. “Naturally. You are still far from well and that can lead to gloomy thoughts and depression. This plan she’s come up with may be exactly the thing we need, and even if that doesn’t work, I have a secret weapon. My mother,” he confided. “Mind you, I suggest she only be deployed as a last resort, but I have no doubt she would do the trick.”

  Gutrune raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, and he chuckled, wincing slightly. “You are so certain she would approve of me?”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea,” he said, clearly amused. “You can never tell with Mutti. But she is a woman of her word, as my father found out to his considerable astonishment, and she promised me when we left Yunwiya that if I ever encountered…‌difficulties because of my parentage, I need only bring it to her attention and she would deal with it. I do think I deserve some credit for never so much as considering using her before,” he added. “Mutti does not hold with half measures. The thing is I cannot guarantee she would not reduce Baerlen to smoking rubble in the process, and I could not reconcile that with my oath of service.”

  She couldn’t help it. Gutrune laughed. It hurt to laugh, but the image of Gnädigefrau Asgaya, no doubt a formidable if older lady, besieging the city for her son was suddenly quite vivid in her imagination.

  “There, that’s better.” Markus was smiling again, and she realized he’d done it on purpose, to give her thoughts a more cheerful direction.

  Gutrune shifted, feeling doubtful again. She couldn’t move her arms, wrapped tightly in the blankets as she was and still weak. “That’s all very well, but what can we do? I can’t even—”

  “You are still recovering from defeating a powerful mage. I do wish you would rest, beloved. Now if you promise not to thrash about, I will untuck you. We only wrapped you up like this because you kept flinging the blankets away, and we can’t risk you getting a chill on top of everything else.”

  She could tell it caused him discomfort to move and realized he had left out some details in his report. “You did not tell me the extent of your injuries.”

  “A few burns, for the most part.” He pulled the blanket free and draped it loosely over her again. “And a large number of small bruises, from the avalanche. You weren’t awake for that, but we had to move quickly to escape and you and Dominic Kermarec had to be carried.” He stopped arranging the blanket about her shoulders, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. His fingers brushed her cheek. “I don’t suppose you would be willing to promise me to not fall off of any more mountains?”

  He was trying to keep his usual light, careless tone, she could tell, but his voice had a small tremor in it. Gutrune took her newly free hand and clasped the hand cupping her face. “Promise me that we will go into danger together, and then you can fall with me. Always.”

  “I promise,” Markus whispered. With no evasion or conditions, like an oath. And so she kissed him, as an oath in return.

  “I wonder how people usually manage,” Dominic said as he floated up the narrow stairway of the ship.

  “They don’t,” Ardhuin replied, levitating him. “They stay in bed until they heal up.”

  “But I’d miss out!”

  For everything but the stairway, two strong sailors could carry him, but the narrowness made that impossible here. Ardhuin rolled her eyes and sighed, and he smiled at her.

  “Well, we can’t have that.” She directed the sailors to the deck where the others were gathered, also dealing with their respective infirmities. Dominic felt quite restored, with the exception of his leg, but MacCrimmon and Gutrune von Kitren still could not move very well on their own.

  Out of consideration for the sailors, Ardhuin walked ahead. The blue kai–‌ling, now named Dorje, was alternately twining about her arms and shoulders and flying above her head, and it was still viewed with trepidation by the crew. It apparently found the sea air exhilarating.

  A semicircle of chairs had been arranged on the deck, shaded from the direct sun. Markus, Gutrune, MacCrimmon, and Sonam were already there, and Dominic noticed with amusement Markus and Gutrune had contrived both to be next to each other and to discreetly hold hands under cover of her blankets. He took the chair next to Markus and gave him a lofty look.

  “You owe me that favor now, I think,” Dominic said in a soft tone.

  “I agree—‌and is that not the matter we are to discuss?” Markus gave him a mischievous smile. “I can only wish us both an equal degree of success in our respective endeavors.”

  “That will do, thank you.” Dominic felt his face heat.

  Fortunately, before Ardhuin could get curious and ask, Dorje launched itself into the air with a whistling cry and dove out of sight over the side.

  Ardhuin shook her head. “What, again? It’s going to get as big as a real dragon at this rate.”

  “Dorje must think it has gone to kai–‌ling heaven. First sardines, and now this! Worth the mild inconvenience of the crate, I hope.”

  The familiar blue–‌purple head rose slowly above the rail with a fish nearly as big as the kai–‌ling itself clutched in Dorje’s jaws. Lashing about with effort, it managed to land on the railing, making a muffled clicking while looking at Ardhuin.

  “No, you go ahead,” she told it. It glanced briefly at Dominic, who seemed to be included in the pecking order, but when he showed no interest, Dorje proceeded to eat its prey, only pausing to raise its neck scales when one of the crew, bringing refreshments, came too close.

  “I must say, your idea would solve a number of difficulties,” MacCri
mmon said. “Not the least of which is the problem of protecting the valley. But what shall we do while Sonam is in training?”

  “It appears Korda is the only free agent with knowledge of the valley.” Gutrune’s voice was still weaker than usual. “As long as we are vigilant in tracking down any hint of the salts, and him, we should have a little time. And I believe he will be as careful as we are in preserving the location as a secret.”

  Markus sat up to hand Gutrune a glass and to accept his own. “And how will we recruit the necessary agents? Besides our humble selves,” he said, waving a hand.

  “I think perhaps going through the…‌sympathetic Mage Guardians will be the best way, at first. Mr. MacCrimmon will be interviewing many magicians that, while they might not be suitable as his replacement, would still be fine agents for our purpose. And Hyeer Kreuwel, I know, is acquainted with several Low Country magicians like himself that have been held back from advancement only by rank, not skill. I doubt that Preusa…‌”

  Markus chuckled. “Yes, we may need to neglect to mention this to the Preusan Mage Guardian, if von Koller has his way. But I believe we can be useful there, and His Majesty will, I suspect, be in full sympathy with our aims.” Gutrune nodded agreement.

  Sonam was sitting in silence, eyes wide and worried. MacCrimmon glanced his way and gave a weary smile.

  “Yes, it makes no sense. And yet we must pay attention to it anyway. This is another reason why I wish you to study with Madame Kermarec. In a different world I would be able to keep you with me as my heir–‌magical, but Alba would not permit you to succeed me. In this way you will learn the politics that constrain our world and may come to impact yours, as well as learn how to protect your own people despite themselves.”

  “I will learn. Everything that I must, to do this.” Sonam nodded vigorously.