by Jekka Jones
At first, Landon felt fine. Then the aches began to settle, and as the cool night air dried his sweat, he started shivering. He focused on that distant woodland he couldn’t see, egging himself to keep moving. Myra shivered too, pressing herself into Landon for warmth. She seemed to be trying to catch her breath, taking deeper and more frequent breaths than him. The further they walked, the more her chest heaved. His worry grew as her struggles became worse, but he pressed on. As much as he wanted to stop, the forest was their best hope.
“Come on, Myra,” he said, encouraging. “Not far now. We’ll find something for the smoke. Hang in there, my . . . my . . .” he searched for something romantic, “my diamond-dappled dove of love!”
Myra huffed with disgust. “Diamond what?” She dissolved into a series of wet coughs that made Landon wince. He became the one pulling and supporting her, and it caused his body to flare until his legs threatened to collapse. Myra’s breathing became ragged and harsh.
Halfway around another hill, Myra’s legs gave out from under her. Landon tried to keep her upright, but she fell to the ground, pulling him down with her. They fell onto their hands and knees.
“Landon,” she wheezed, “I can’t breathe.” She sucked at the air, which triggered another fit of coughing. Something wet and dark fell from her mouth. She lifted her head, her eyes wide with fear.
“Landon . . . it’s blood.”
“Try to relax, Myra,” Landon soothed. “Lie on your side. Stay calm. I’ll . . . I’ll take care of it.”
Myra obliged, fingers twitching and tears falling onto the grass. With a whispered apology, Landon plunged his hand into her pocket containing the Seal and withdrew it. It sickened him how quickly he was turning to the amulet, but there was no other option. The grassland had nothing that could help, and he was too exhausted to carry her.
He uncovered a portion of the Seal and laid one finger on it. The power suffused him. He struggled to maintain a clear head, this time aware of the power drowning his discernment of right and wrong, dulling his self-control. The power pushed his pain away because pain was so tedious, and it got in the way. He focused on Myra.
Landon sent the power sweeping through her body and found the poison sticking to her lungs and throat, digging itself into her tissue, making it swell and bleed.
“Myra, I’m going to destroy the poison in your body, okay?” he said, kissing her forehead. “I need to concentrate, but I want you to keep breathing. Keep doing that, okay? Leave the rest to me.”
Myra nodded. Swallowing what little moisture he had in his mouth, Landon willed the power to destroy the poison.
Just like with himself, the effect was instant. The power leaped at the poison, devouring the toxin with relish. Myra gasped and convulsed. Her eyes widened in shock and then she bolted upright, breathing as if nothing had happened.
Landon had little thought to spare for her because the power was turning its attention on her organs, eyeing them like a starving cat eyes a crippled bird. Panicked, he lifted his finger as Myra reached towards him, gritting his teeth against the crashing wall of pain. He expected her to take the Seal, but she grabbed his hand instead.
“Landon, that. . . .” She struggled to find words. “That was freaky. It was burning and freezing me at the same time. I didn’t think healing would be so uncomfortable.”
“It wasn’t healing you, it was destroying the poison,” he replied. “My Dad said it’s slow to heal, remember. But I know what you mean. I destroyed the poison in myself while I . . .” Shame seized his throat. He got to his feet, turning away from Myra. “We should go. We’re still a long ways from the trees and who knows when someone will come to investigate the chaos.” He gestured behind them where Sri’Lanca and the scorched forest lay.
Myra gave him a sympathetic smile as she got to her feet. She sighed, taking his hand in hers. “If there’s even a forest to hide in,” she commented, “what with the armies chopping down trees like mad.” They both looked up at the dark hills, straining their eyes for a hint of the treeline.
“Let’s go find out.” Landon rewrapped the Seal and offered it to Myra. “Please take it again. It’s safer with you. Less of a temptation.”
Myra pulled a disgusted face, but she took it and shoved it deep into her trouser pocket. She was about to voice her thoughts when a larger voice boomed through the night.
“Wait!”
They froze and slowly turned to face Sri’Lanca. The dragon struggled on his feet, hacking sparks that guttered and died on the ashen ground. His legs shook beneath him, and he dug the joints of his wings into the ground for extra support. Occasionally, he would slide along on his belly, his trembling legs and wings feebly pushing him forward.
“F-f-fight me!” he growled, stretching his head towards Landon.
Landon stared. He couldn’t believe what he heard. The dragon could barely raise his head, and yet he wanted to fight?
“Do it!” the dragon roared. He tried to breathe fire, but he choked on his own smoke, hacking and retching with the effort. Myra stiffened, her nails digging into Landon’s arm. In the distance, he heard familiar wingbeats and the cries of dragons coming to investigate.
“Incoming,” he said to Myra. She nodded, and they turned. Even the shadow of a hill would hide them for a while. Landon suspected the dragons would be more concerned with Sri’Lanca than any escaped Nircanians.
“Fight me!” Sri’Lanca roared again. He lunged but fell flat on his stomach. He wriggled towards Landon like a disabled snake, his wings and legs floundering against the ground, tearing up chunks of earth.
Myra’s step faltered. “Keep walking,” Landon urged. “Just keep going.”
“Turn and face me you pathetic, wingless scum of human filth!”
“What if he catches up to us?” Myra asked, glancing over her shoulder at the dragon. He was barely visible from their side of the rise. “He’s not that far away.”
“Fight me, Dayn! Fight! Avenge your people!”
“Just keep walking,” Landon repeated. His legs shook from the downward slope, and his back ached. He hoped it wasn’t too damaged from being knocked around so much.
“Coward! You spineless worm! Take up the Seal and fight me!”
Landon stopped short. Ignoring Myra’s gentle tugs on his arm, he turned on the spot to face Sri’Lanca. The dragon’s head appeared at the top of the slope, and he struggled to get his body to the top. Sri’Lanca paused in his efforts and grinned. His features twisting into a demonic expression.
“Fight, Dayn,” Sri’Lanca hissed. “Prove your strength and face me in combat!”
“No,” Landon said, with more resolve than he truly felt. He could feel the Seal in Myra’s pocket, warm and inviting against his leg. With significant effort, he ignored it.
“Fight me!” Sri’Lanca roared, hacking and spitting phlegm. “Do it, or I will tear your woman to pieces while you watch!”
“No,” Landon repeated firmly. “I won’t fight you, Sri’Lanca. If you want me dead then so be it, but I promise you I will never, never use the Seal to harm you again.” As he said it, Landon meant it.
Sri’Lanca began to speak, but a coughing fit overtook him. He hacked and spluttered, the force knocking him to the ground. He looked on the verge of death. Saliva dripped uninhibited from his mouth, and his yellow eyes were bloodshot. His sides heaved as if he had been running non-stop for days, and spasms racked his body.
Landon stared guiltily at the dragon. “I’m sorry for your loss, Sri’Lanca,” he continued, and he meant it. “I hope you may find it within yourself to forgive me. You should get going though. I can hear the other dragons coming, and I know they want to capture you just as much as me.”
The dragons were growing louder with each passing second. Landon lifted his hand in farewell and turned his back on Sri’Lanca. He nodded to Myra and they continued into the dark. A moment later, he heard Sri’Lanca scrambling after them.
“If Sri’Lanca attacks us, run,”
Landon whispered. “Run as fast as you can, Myra Higgins, and don’t stop until you are in the forest. Don’t wait for me if I fall behind.”
Myra snorted. “When cows fly, Landon Durn-Dayn. You promised me a ring and I will see to it that I get one!”
Landon didn’t have the strength to argue with her. The other dragons were almost upon them. Landon steered them to the shadowed areas of the hills. They traveled in slow, fretful steps, listening to Sri’Lanca’s efforts as he crawled after them. Sri’Lanca didn’t speak, but he grunted and made wet spitting noises as he tried to follow.
Anxious to take his mind off the dragon tailing them, Landon turned his attention to his fiancé. Myra reeked of smoke and burned wood, but if she had any burns, they weren’t impeding her gait. She kept massaging her left hand as if it were hurting.
“Did you burn your hand?”
Myra nodded. “The Seal. It burned me when I was getting it away from you.” She glanced sideways at him. “It’s like I held a hot poker for a couple minutes. I wouldn’t be surprised if I have blisters.” She snarled. “I really hate that thing.”
Landon took her left hand and held it up to the moonlight. It was difficult to tell, but he thought he could see an off-color mark on her palm. “I’m sorry,” he said and kissed the spot. He could feel the burn warming his lips.
“Don’t be,” Myra replied. “It’s not your fault, Lan.”
Landon knew she was going to say that. Before he could respond, inexplicable warmth shot through his body and soul, as if he had fallen into a warm tub of water. His heart shuddered, falling out of rhythm for a second before finding it again. It wasn’t painful, just startling—like missing a step when walking down the stairs. His muscles began to twitch in strange places, and a bizarre longing mixed with jealousy washed over him. Confused and bewildered, Landon fell to his knees.
“Lan? Lan, what’s wrong?” Myra asked, panicked.
“I-I don’t know,” Landon replied. He was shaking uncontrollably. “I feel different.”
Myra knelt beside him. “Different how?”
“Just . . . d-different.” Landon didn’t know how to describe it. His heart shuddered, his muscles trembled, and his emotions were all over the place. It was like he had physically and emotionally lost control. A muscle in his back flexed violently, causing his hand to jerk out of Myra’s. He saw the terror on her face, but he didn’t know what to tell her.
As suddenly as the spasms started, they stopped. Landon almost collapsed into the grass, but he held himself up on all fours. He gulped and wiggled his fingers and toes to make sure they were back under control. “I think . . . I think I’m okay,” he said.
Myra didn’t answer. She sat rigid beside him, her head turned towards Sri’Lanca. It was then he realized the dragon had stopped moving. He looked around until he found the dragon.
Sri’Lanca was a hundred feet from them, gazing at Landon. Their eyes locked. He stared into those yellow eyes and saw Sri’Lanca as he really was: a young and scared being just like him. A being running from the past, worried for the future, and longing for safety.
There was another wave of warmth, and another moment when Landon’s heart skipped a beat.
“Impossible . . .” the dragon whispered, shrinking away from Landon. “It can’t be . . .”
“What—” Landon began, but the dragons appeared. They began to fan out like wolves attempting to surround a herd of deer. All the dragons were shouting and roaring at Sri’Lanca.
“Stand down, drake!”
“You have no where to go!”
Sri’Lanca ignored the approaching dragons and continued to stare at Landon, his bloodshot eyes fixed on his. Landon wanted to look at the swarming dragons, but he couldn’t break eye contact. He felt like he was, in every sense and meaning of the phrase, gazing into Sri’Lanca’s soul. He could feel the dragon’s rage, grief, and growing astonishment as much as his own.
“Fold your wings, Sri’Lanca!” cried a large silver dragon leading the group. She spoke like one used to being obeyed. “It is over!”
As if struck by lightning, Sri’Lanca threw himself backwards. Landon too recoiled, overcome by a surge of fear. With a lung-splitting scream, Sri’Lanca began clawing his way over the hill. He screamed and screamed as if he were being tortured. His wings and tail thrashed against the ground, throwing dirt and grass in all directions.
“Sri’Lanca, stop this at once!” roared the silver dragon.
Sri’Lanca was beyond reasoning. He continued his crazed wail as he clawed his way towards the burnt trees barely visible among the hills.
“Is he running away from us?” Myra asked, baffled. She gripped Landon’s arm so hard he felt a bruise forming on top of all his other ones.
Landon shook his head, captivated by this irrational display of fear. He never expected to see Sri’Lanca like this, let alone feel it. Spasms and bursts of fear surged through him, his muscles jolting violently in time with Sri’Lanca’s wings, legs, and tail.
He struggled to get the words out. “At least he’s drawing the dragons away.”
It was true. None of the dragons so much as glanced at the two Nircanians, their focus completely on Sri’Lanca.
“Thank you, Sri’Lanca?” Myra said, baffled.
The dragon swarm followed the rogue dragon, screeching and howling at him to stop. Several of them spat flames at Sri’Lanca, peppering the night sky with bursts of orange and red.
“Judan!” bellowed Sri’Lanca’s voice, and he was in the sky, roiling and tumbling as if caught in a storm. Sri’Lanca dropped many times out of view only to reappear a second later. The dragon’s roars increased, ordering him to stop. Despite all this, he continued to scream at the top of his voice.
“Judan! Forgive me! Forgive me!”
Chapter 14
It felt like hours before the dragons and Sri’Lanca’s shrieks faded. An unnatural hush settled on the fire-scorched land. Not even a cricket chirped.
“What the hell just happened?” Myra cried, shattering the silence.
“Sri’Lanca went coo-coo crazy. Like a bat!” Landon laughed. It came out high-pitched and psychotic.
Myra stared at him, alarmed. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“I hope so,” Landon replied evasively. He got to his feet, staggering and swaying as his muscles and heart continued to spasm on their own. Myra darted to his side, and he accepted her support. “Thanks.”
Myra grunted, and they resumed their exodus across the prairie, pushing their tired bodies because they had to. Landon’s muscle tremors diminished with each step, but the flood of fear and grief continued to consume him.
Although no dragons filled the sky, Landon thought he heard hooves in the distance. He didn’t know if he imagined it or not, and he saw nothing when he looked around. Unwilling to make themselves a target for possible scouts, Landon and Myra kept to the base of the hills, staying in the shadows as much as possible. Every once in a while, when they felt brave enough to risk it, they whistled for their horses. There were no returning whinnys or racing hooves, but they kept trying, hoping their horses would respond.
“How . . . how did it feel? The Seal?” Myra asked after a few hours of trudging through the grass. Although the terrain wasn’t difficult, she sounded as tired as Landon felt.
Landon seized on the opportunity to distract his thoughts. “It was wonderful,” he said truthfully. “I could do anything. I was so powerful that nothing could stop me. Myra . . .” He turned to meet her eyes. “I could drive out the nations and end this war.”
“Would you?” she asked softly. She whistled, and still got no answering neigh.
Landon also whistled, wincing as his signal for Oni rang through the night, and thought on Myra’s words. He knew he should fear the power. His parents hated the Seal. Sierra refused to touch it and Diego always kept the katana out of sight. Even when he had been dying, they hadn’t used the Seal to heal him from Angen’s tortures. What would they think of him
now? They constantly fought Sayre, the kings, and Darrin against using it. Darrin . . . who was a Seer. He wanted it just as much as the Drakshus.
“No,” Landon answered, failing to keep the regret from his voice. He hung his head, unwilling to meet her gaze. “I would have killed Sri’Lanca because I wanted to, not because it was a matter of life or death. I wanted him dead.” He took a deep breath. His chest throbbed, confirming that his ribs had taken a beating. He reveled in it, absorbed it because it reminded him that he was human. He wasn’t pretending to play god like the wizards. “Thank you for stopping me, Myra. I would’ve murdered Sri’Lanca if you hadn’t stepped in.”
Myra pulled him to a stop. She took his chin and lifted, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. They shone with pity. “I’m sure you did. It’s what the wizards would’ve done. I’m not saying you’re one of them,” she added sternly when he grimaced. “Sixteen wizards poured their power into that thing, remember? Your father said that that much power, backed by hundreds of years of experience, made the Seal dangerous.”
Landon shuddered. “I felt like it was putting ideas in my head.” He remembered wanting to touch Sri’Lanca as he died, to feel his soul leave. “I wish dragonfire could destroy it.”
Myra stared at him, her expression torn between disgust and the desire to comfort him. Landon gazed at her, shame, grief, and anger roiling in his being. She shouldn’t have to feel guilt and relief because of what happened. She shouldn’t have been anywhere near this whole mess! “I’m sorry I love you,” he said, repeating his words. “You don’t deserve this.”
Myra rolled her eyes. “Neither do you, which is why I’m sticking with you. Through Paradise or Hell.” She kissed him hard, as if her passion could dispel his guilt. Landon’s body quivered at the kiss.
Myra pulled away, and he felt breathless. “After all that, you still want to marry me?” he asked.