Dragonfly Refrain

by Aimee Moore

  I did as she commanded, a tingle of warmth in my chest at the closeness of another human.

  “We can obtain more directions on the road,” Dal said, turning to look to the woods behind him.

  “Try now,” Lianne breathed into my ear, then she left my side.

  I chucked the dagger, and it somersaulted through the air before embedding itself in the tree.

  I let off an exhale of triumph, lowering my arm.

  “There now, ya see?” Lianne said, giving me a rough slap on the back that caused me to stumble. She went to retrieve the knife.

  “Dal, did you see that?” I asked with a smile. “I might actually—”

  “Silence,” Dal said.

  I frowned, my gaze focusing in the distance beyond him. The forest was still. No birdsong rang through the eerie quiet, no insects chirped. Even the wind held its breath.

  Dal dropped everything then and pulled out his sword. “Run,” he told us. “I will buy you time.”

  “Not a spitting chance,” Lianne said, unsheathing her Kraw sword.

  “We fight with you,” I said to Dal.

  “You cannot fight this. Go, now,” Dal said, turning away from us.

  “I’m about to prove you wrong,” I said, lighting flame to my palms.

  “Lianne, take her to the cart and do not slow,” Dal ordered.

  “I’m not your damned grunt,” Lianne growled.

  Dal swore and turned away, stomping into the brush. Lianne and I followed.

  As soon as Dal got ahead of us, he let off a Kraw battle roar that brought back terrifying visions of the battle of Elanthia, then charged into the bushes. Lianne roared and rushed in after him, and I on my bad foot, cursed and tried to hobble along.

  Lianne’s deep voice echoed through the trees, panicked and unintelligible, then Dal shouted after her. A clang of metal split through the air. Dal’s roar again. More metal crashing. The bushes rustled. Closer. I pushed myself through the throbbing pain in my left foot.

  Dal burst through the shrubbery then, flying past me and landing in the dirt with a heavy thud. Lianne came next with a hard thump and a rattle of armor. Dal jumped to his feet, then charged back in, shouting, “Run!” over his shoulder.

  I wanted to rush in with the man I loved, but Lianne was still not moving. I knelt down to check her, and she stirred, a slight shift of armor and a fluttering of eyelashes.

  “Mother of spider snakes,” she muttered into the pine needles.

  “What?” I said. “Come on, get up. We have to help,” I said, pulling at her armored arm. By the gods, she was heavy.

  Lianne finally stumbled to her feet with my help, shaking herself out, then she sprang forward on unsteady legs. More clanging metal sounded through the trees, and I rushed after her, limping on my bad foot, before finally catching up.

  Nothing in all my experiences prepared me for what I saw when I burst through the ferns.

  Was it machine, or beast? The body was an upright tangle of metal, some places on it covered in pulsating, sinewy meat. Somewhere within, a ticking noise sang alongside an awful grinding. It was perched on top of six metallic legs as thick as milk jugs, and they twisted and moved as sinuously as snakes in water. Each leg was independent, fast, and heavens, armed with glinting silvery claws that were razor sharp.

  There was a giant eye perched atop this monstrosity, always spinning on its undulating mass of meat and metal, seeing all. It rolled that hideous eye right at me and stilled. With an easy swipe of a clawed leg, Dal and Lianne sailed through the air.

  Mortal terror shook my bones as I looked into the eye of the monster. Its legs twisted toward me like spider’s legs without joints and then it advanced on me like the demons of the seven hells themselves drove it.

  I lit fire in my palms and hurled balls of flame at it. The fire seared its undulating meat and glanced off the metal parts, but the creature kept coming. I stumbled back, letting off a grunt of effort as I called more of my gift and threw a galloping herd of wild, fiery horses at the monster. Manes and tails of feathered fire ignited the brush as they passed. They crashed into the monster, fire splashing about as their smoky whinnies pierced the air. Triumph shot through me as the flame and smoke roared, but then the monster materialized through the blaze, unaffected.

  My foot cried out in protest as I turned to run, racing as fast as my good leg would carry me on the wings of adrenaline. It wasn’t fast enough, the thing was coming for me, crashing through the brush with a speed that made me choke for breath. I was going to die.

  And then Dal’s roar split the fear that had solidified in the air, and I glanced over my shoulder to see him leaping at the monster, arms and sword stretched wide, crashing into two of its legs and grabbing them tight. It stumbled, using the other four legs to compensate, that whirring eyeball going berserk. Dal raised his sword and hacked at the creature. It was unaffected as sparks whizzed off of its metal side. It used another of its snaking legs to reach for Dal with those razor claws, missing as he dodged and swung.

  “Run!” Dal roared.

  This time, I listened. I turned with a gasp and ran. And Lianne, oh blessed Lianne, she caught up with me and grabbed my arm, hauling me along as the roar of wind and fire smothered my senses.

  We dashed out of the woods and back to the cart, scrambling up to the seat. With a flick of the reins and a shout, Kalgar took up speed at a hard gallop, our cart and belongings bouncing in the road with perilous thuds and crunches.

  I stood as Lianne drove, digging my fingers into the cart’s canvas top, watching the forest for signs of Dal.

  Smoke billowed from the treetops, growing in volume as we got further and further away.

  “No, no no no,” I breathed. I put one hand out, reaching for the fire that was getting further and further out of my reach. I grabbed on to the hot pinpricks of it in my blood, struggling to concentrate through the bouncing of the cart, and quelled the flame. The smoke began to lessen, but still there was no Dal.

  “Turn back!” I yelled at Lianne over the thundering of Kalgar’s hooves and the smashing of our cart.

  “Not a chance in the seven hells I’m going back there,” Lianne said.

  “We can’t leave Dal!” I yelled.

  “He can handle himself,” Lianne said. Every second wasted, we got further and further away from Dal.

  “Turn this cart back or I swear on every god that’s ever existed I’ll turn you to ash here on the spot,” I snarled.

  Lianne turned horrified eyes on me.

  Then a crash sounded in the brush near the cart, and both of us turned to greet the monster who had come to finish us off. The cart rocked hard, nearly knocking me from my perch before I could look upon it one last time.

  “Do not turn this cart around,” Dal growled, pulling himself up.

  I grabbed his bloodied arm as a shaking breath left me, and he nodded at me, black hair blowing behind him. Blood danced with tattoos on his glistening skin as he watched the road stretch on behind us. I thanked anything that would listen for Kraw strength and speed. Then that thing burst out of the greenery, enjoying the freedom of the road as much as we were, its horrifying, rolling eye focused forward. Those six long legs, unhindered now by Dal or trees, snaked over each other at breakneck speed as it gained on us.

  “Dal!” I screamed.

  Dal frowned at it, then whirled to sit next to Lianne. He began to mutter things rapidly in a strange language as his gaze focused forward. I watched the monster gain on us, wild thoughts of sacrificing myself so that Dal and Lianne could have a fighting chance running through my frenzied mind.

  Dal kept on chanting in a single tone, and then Kalgar tossed his head and gave a snort with a skip in his step. The powerful beast put his head down and sprinted forward. I scrambled to hold on as the cart lurched. Dal continued to chant, fueling whatever it was that pushed Kalgar like so.

  The monster began to grow distant, and Kalgar continued to speed forward, hooves pounding a fast staccato o
n the worn dirt. The cart crashed along as if it might fall apart as the creature faded further and further away. Kalgar’s great snorting bellows were like wind under wings I didn’t know we had, Lianne was laughing with crazed glee, and I was up against far more than a beautiful handmaiden and her homesickness.

  ∞∞∞∞∞

  Sometime later, after our bones hurt from the harsh jarring and thumping of the cart, and Kalgar’s sides and neck had become lathered, we were safe enough to pull the cart off of the main road, following a sign pointing toward the town of Boris. Dal was exhausted, barely able to sit up on his own, and so he leaned on Lianne’s strength for support rather than crushing me under his bulk. I rested a hand on his leg for comfort while Lianne and I muttered our fearful observations of the creature.

  When we entered Boris, the three of us straightened to crane our necks.

  “Council’s balls,” Lianne said, mouth agape. “How long have Nialae been in this world?”

  “Not long enough to do this,” I whispered to the towering, inhuman silver spires above that marked the entrance to the city. As we passed under them, Boris buzzed before us with lively color that belied its plain name.

  Within the city’s walls were grand buildings of sparkling white stone adorned with scrolling silver metalwork capping corners and trimming doors and windows. The windows seemed to glow like jewels, and flowing tapestries fluttered down each door, marking a house name or symbol. The town, with its jewel-toned glass and sparkling rooftops, was something I never could have imagined in all my dreams.

  Because none of this was human.

  Pastel-hued gazes set into beautiful faces made the Nialae appear right at home in this sparkling wonder of a city. The absence of Nialae allure made me nervous, sending my gaze to search the faces of the humans who mingled with white-haired Nialae in the streets. Some of the humans seemed to embrace the new arrivals, while others scowled their opinions across the cobbled streets or through open windows.

  We let a drooping Kalgar clop to a stop to get our bearings in the flurry of activities. An inquisitive Nialae man was watching us as he held up an awning pole for a plump merchant woman. His rich brown skin and shaved head almost made him appear human over his loose white shirt and matching pants. But there was no escaping those Nialae eyes, which were a pale yellow.

  “Thank you,” the merchant woman said to him. “This stand is my world. It should hold up much better now.”

  The Nialae man let go and approached us with powerful strides that seemed to eat the cobbles. The woman fanned at her chest as she watched his backside.

  “We’re looking for rest and supplies,” I said to him.

  “At last, the arrival. What might destiny call you?” The man spoke in a deep voice that reminded me of what Dal had once said about worlds having music of their own.

  “Um, just Seraphine. What might we call you?”

  The man smiled, and fear struck into my heart. But then it was gone as easily as it came. “Call me Jacinthe,” he said.

  “Okay, Jacinthe,” I said on a breath, a strange tremble working up my spine.

  “Supplies,” Dal said, still leaning on Lianne. “Where.”

  “To what point in fate do you need these things to take you?” Jacinthe asked, resting an arm on Kalgar’s rump. The horse tremored so hard that it rattled his harness, and then he raised his head, alert.

  “Our business is our own,” I said.

  Jacinthe smiled again, showing perfect white teeth. “Not all trees in a forest stand after a storm. You may go there,” he pointed down a cobbled road to the left, revealing a general store, “but lightning will still strike.”

  “King’s spit, he’s mad,” Lianne said.

  I glanced at Dal to see him frowning at the man.

  Jacinthe kept his easy grin. “Mad implies standards of sanity; and who measures out these standards, fierce Lianne?”

  Lianne raised her eyebrows.

  “I like you,” he said in good humor. “Yes, I’ll be glad to lift your sails when it is time for the wind to change. But not yet.”

  “What?” I breathed.

  “Soon,” Jacinthe said. And then, with a final pat on Kalgar’s rump, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

  “How addled was that fellow?” Lianne asked.

  “That was cryptic. Did you make sense of any of it?” I asked Dal.

  “No. But I know he was dangerous.”

  We made quick work of getting supplies and directions to the university. Kalgar’s characteristic spirit was back in full force, and I suspected Jacinthe had something to do with it. Since no one in Boris would risk offending the human population by offering food or shelter to a Kraw, Lianne stepped up to make trades and lead us out of the splendid city. I took my time marveling at the harmony of Nialae and humans as I passed, wondering if perhaps this was a glimpse into the future of my world.

  Dal, unable to stay awake anymore, went into the back of the cart, leaving Lianne and me alone up front. I glanced back at where he was getting comfortable in the shadows, frowning with worry.

  “Don’t need no company or none that, can entertain myself just fine.”

  “It’s nearly night, I need to help you keep watch after that… Thing,” I said.

  “Oh-ho! Miss hardened Kraw over here is actually concerned about me, eh?”

  “I may be damaged but I’m not heartless,” I murmured, looking away.

  Lianne scratched at her armpit. “Way I see it, we’re all broker than a basket of eggs at breakfast.”

  I frowned, looking away. I didn’t like the implication that we’re meant to be broken.

  “Course, your Dal saved our busted arses back there. Damaged or not, he knew what we was up against. Shoulda listened, huh?”

  I fidgeted with my broken nails. “Yes, we’ll have to be more careful.” Then I frowned and turned to Lianne. “What’s a mother of spider snakes?”

  Lianne let off a guffaw. “That really came outta my face hole?”

  I smiled. “What does it mean?”

  “Can’t say I know. Just said it.”

  I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me. We got quiet for a moment, and my thoughts returned to Dal.

  Lianne leaned in to me. “Tell ya what. Make more of that sparkly stuff so I can see the road better, and I’ll be plenty fine. S’no secret you’re worried for him, go on.”

  I gazed into the lively pools of her brown eyes. “You’re sure?”

  “Oh aye. I may be crass but I’m not heartless,” she said with a wink, drawing on my earlier words.

  I smiled, putting a hand on Lianne’s arm, then curled my palms up to unleash small flames all around us. They sizzled as they fell all around the cart like glowing snowfall, lighting the area briefly before extinguishing on the ground or the top of the cart, only to be replaced by more. Kalgar snorted and tossed his head at them, but then kept on as they landed on his rump harmlessly.

  “Damn sight that is,” Lianne murmured, the falling flames reflected in her eyes.

  I smiled at her, then turned to squeeze into the back of the cart with Dal. The falling flame outside was brushing the canvas top of our cart like fireflies outside a tent. Dal stirred only a little at my arrival, and I laid next to him with a frown as he let off a soft grunt.

  “I worry for you,” I whispered over the rocking and creaking of the cart.

  “Hm. I will be restored soon.” His sleep-tinged voice tumbled through our enclosed darkness.

  “Is it because of what you did to Kalgar?”

  “Yes. It is an old power in my world, long past but not forgotten to those who seek.” He shifted with a sigh.

  “I’m not surprised your hungry mind would seek such knowledge,” I said with a smile.

  An amused noise escaped Dal. “It is not often learned. My training was marked by a time of confusion; I was insufficient as a warrior and found solace with scholars.”

  “That explains a bit,” I said, running my fingers
over the muscles of Dal’s forearm. One of his tattoos traced the pronounced line of his musculature, and often captured my attention.

  “The scholar who owned me found my turmoil amusing.”

  “Owned you?”

  “Yes. I studied the old language of beasts, hoping to gain the power it promised to best my peers in battle.”

  “You couldn’t win with your sword, so you sought to use your mind,” I said.

  “I was young and impatient.”

  “No, it was simply another path that made you what you are today.”

  “There is a mark on me, a spell for the ancient bond between man and beast. I can lend him my strength or take his. Few Kraw carry this spell,” Dal said on a fading breath. “The cost can be... Great.”

  “It saved our lives,” I whispered, watching him in the dim light given by my falling flame. I fidgeted with the seashell necklace at my throat as I thought. The answer to another Kraw mystery fell into place.

  “Dal. Before the battle of Elanthia, when the Warlord made you pull the cart alongside that massive animal with the horn. You used your animal bond to borrow the beast’s strength, didn’t you.”

  Dal’s deep laugh was barely audible over the rumble of the cart. “Were I not on the brink of dreaming, I would take you here.”

  I smiled, then gave him a gentle kiss. “There’s time,” I whispered.

  Dal’s calloused fingers traced my face while we rocked, trailing down my neck, and then dropping on a heavy sigh. I watched sleep whisk my warrior away to dreams, unaware of how very wrong I was.

  Chapter 11

  Agreements

  “Have you not found your queen in two days’ time?” I asked Ysiel.

  We were seated in her elegant tent of silvery blues and twisted metalwork, staring into a crackling fire with plates of ready-to-cook food in the center. Dal stood at my side so Ysiel had to look up at him.