Invasion and Dragons

by Jekka Jones

  Landon shook his head. “I’m not using the Seal anymore, Myra. I’ve used it one too many times already.” He closed his eyes and rested his head against the earthen wall. “I’ll be fine. My body will take care of itself.”

  “We don’t have time for you to heal,” Myra said angrily. “There’s an army right on our doorstep who would love nothing more than to lock you away. Your injuries will just make it easier for them!” She picked up the wadded cloth and sat down beside him, pressing it into his hand.

  Landon pulled away, disgust twisting his face. The wad that contained the Seal fell to the ground. “I don’t want to use it, Myra! Why are you forcing this? You know it’s evil. Look what I almost did because of it!” He struggled to keep his voice down, the words growling on his tongue.

  “And remember that it was me who stopped you,” Myra countered. “We can’t wait six months for you to heal. We’re doing this, Lan, so shut it. I’ll be here to stop you.” To emphasize her point, she took his hand and placed the cloth into it. She sidled up beside him, their legs touching.

  Landon wanted to argue, wanted to throw the Seal on the opposite end of the shelter, but he was so tired. And, as much as he hated to admit it, she was right. They couldn’t afford to wait for his bones to mend. The hike across the prairie had been painful enough. He wanted to be like Diego and Sierra, refusing to use the Seal to heal their dying son, but that time was past. He was a fugitive and Nircana’s freedom hinged on that.

  Sighing, Landon nodded his consent. Myra unwrapped the Seal and flicked the cloth out from under it. He had half a heartbeat to feel the warm metal on his skin before the power was coursing through his body, shoving his wounds into nothingness. He felt cold, something he didn’t recall when he had used the Seal on the prairie. It was focused around his heart, as though competing with Landon’s soul. He looked at Myra, noticing she had one hand on his wrist and the other cupping his fingers.

  “Heal yourself, Lan.” Her voice was calm and hypnotizing. “I’m right here to make sure you don’t do anything dangerous.” She smiled, her teeth dazzling in the near darkness. “You can trust me.”

  “Fine . . .” Landon murmured, and he focused. The power frolicked within him, wild and disobedient like Oni. It wanted to destroy everything in sight, including Landon. He shivered, confused by the cold he was feeling.

  He willed the power to examine his bones. Although they were in bad shape, his armor had prevented more serious harm. He gritted his teeth, sensing fractures in his ribs, arms, legs, and lower spine. The power flitted to the fractured section of his spine, and he felt the burning cold as the power investigated the vertebrae.

  “Heal,” he hissed. “I want you to heal.” He struggled with the power, and at last forced it to mend the cracks.

  It was as Diego had described when Landon had been bedridden and weak. Where the power had been quick and eager to destroy the dragon’s poison, it became lethargic when healing. Landon felt it slowly, lazily mending the cracks. The cold spot in his chest blossomed, searing his body with a chill so intense it burned. It felt like ice was being poured into his veins, the blood and sinew freezing into a solid mass. He felt the power drawing on his strength, using it to fuel the tedious process of healing.

  “I hate this thing,” Landon said, shutting his eyes to better concentrate. Icy droplets of sweat beaded his forehead. “It’s making everything cold. I think it’s sucking away my body’s heat to heal.”

  “Is it working?” Myra asked eagerly.

  Landon nodded, shaking with the mental exertion of urging the power to mend his bones. More than once the power tried to undermine his will, and he had to rein in the power and refocus it on his spine. It really was like Oni, willing to obey so long as it was fun. He was so cold that he felt like he was frostbitten. He glanced at his hands, expecting to see the fingertips black and purple, but they were normal. Unlike the Seal’s burn on Myra’s hand, there was no physical sign of the cold.

  He couldn’t endure any more. He tilted his hand, allowing the Seal to slide off his palm. It bounced off his torn trousers and thudded to the ground. Landon sagged against the wall, gasping and shivering. After concentrating for so long and so hard, he felt wasted. Warmth seeped into his body, and with it the aches of being thrown around. The pain didn’t feel as worse as before, but he couldn’t know for sure.

  “Do you feel any different?” Myra asked tentatively.

  Landon was shivering so hard his body hurt. “It’s hard to tell. I’m freezing.”

  Myra laid a hand on his forehead and frowned. “You feel normal to me, but you’re covered with sweat.” She pulled her hand away and wiped it on his shirt.

  “Want me to take a bath?” Landon replied, trying to grin. He could barely move his lips.

  “Eventually, but I think you need some rest.” Myra pecked a kiss on his lips. She rewrapped the Seal and stowed it in the small bag, exchanging it for the cloak. “Come here, my sweaty, stinky fiancé,” she said, unfurling the fabric. “Let’s see what a few hours of some shut eye can bring us.”

  Landon smiled. “Yes, Ma’am.” He crawled over and lay down on the bed of straw. Myra joined him, spreading Juan’s blanket over them. Slowly, warmth leeched into Landon’s bones and his shivers dissipated, leaving him exhausted. He and Myra were face to face, looking in each other’s eyes.

  “I’m so lucky to have you,” he said.

  Myra giggled and nuzzled Landon’s nose with hers. “I’m glad you didn’t get eaten by a dragon. Now go to sleep, my handsome fox. We got a big day ahead of us.”

  It was a gross understatement. For the next few days, all Landon and Myra did was sit in the dugout. The only time either one ventured outside was to relieve themselves at a nearby thicket they used as a latrine. The Caborcan army tripled in size as the Lythrans and Tsuregans joined them, until tents surrounded their hiding place. Juan was able to re-pitch his tent right in front of the boulder, which allowed them to leave a gap wide enough for them to slip through. This made it easier for them to come and go unseen.

  Using the knife Juan had given them, Myra fashioned short spears that she used to hunt small game. She only hunted and foraged at night, when they were sure Juan and the nearby soldiers were asleep. The moments when Myra was gone were the most nerve-wracking minutes of Landon’s life. He wanted to help with gathering food and water, but his aching body made it difficult to move silently.

  Landon spent most of his time healing, which was a chore in and of itself. Although it was working—his fractured bones healing faster than normal—it took all his mental willpower and left him so cold he thought he would never be warm. He found it easier to focus on one area at a time. He managed a few minutes’ worth of concentration during each session—ten if he was resilient. Myra sat with him every time, ready to break the connection if the power broke free of his control.

  While Landon tried to regain the warmth in his body after the healing sessions, Myra turned her attention to their supplies. She worked on a bow and set of arrows for each of them and tended the burns on her legs. Landon wanted to help, but fixing his bones was top priority, and so his energies went to that instead. He slept, or sat near the burning coals of their small fire, desperately trying to regain his body heat.

  “That looks like it still hurts,” Landon observed, watching Myra dab grounded plants on her burned calves. He was wrapped completely in a blanket, more to hide the small carving project he was working on than from the latest healing session. He had to work carefully so as not to cut his finger. He didn’t want to explain a small knife wound to Myra. Not yet, anyhow.

  “It’s better than four days ago,” she said. “It doesn’t hurt but it’s super itchy. My hand is loads better though. It doesn’t hurt one bit, and the burn’s gone. She hiked her trouser leg up to get to the burns on her knees.

  Landon paused to feel his ribs, grimacing as his fingers alighted on a fading bruise. It had taken him four days to heal the fractures. He had done some heal
ing on Myra’s burns, but not as much as he would’ve liked. He had even tried to heal the Seal’s burn on her hand, but that had proved useless. It was like a wall had been placed beneath her skin and the power refused to break it down. Myra appreciated his attempts, but it annoyed him. It added to Landon’s growing list of reasons for hating the Wizard’s Seal.

  There was a scuffle at the boulder, and Juan slipped inside. A hurried movement beside Landon told him Myra had yanked her trouser leg down.

  “Howsy, Juan,” said Landon, “What’s happening?” He quickly pocketed the wooden object.

  “We’re moving out,” Juan replied. “Apparently the Borikans and their allies are heading towards the southern mountains, and Guiterrez, Katsunaka, and Berado want to head them off.”

  “Everyone’s heading south?” said Landon, sitting up straight. “As in every nation?”

  Juan nodded. “We’ve been ordered to pack up and move.”

  Landon looked at Myra. He felt nervous for his people. “Do you think scouts spotted the groups and noticed they were heading south?”

  Myra chewed on her lip. “That, or they found one of our hideouts.”

  Juan watched them. Landon knew he was bursting to ask why Nircanians were heading south, but didn’t to protect himself. If Juan was caught and interrogated, knowing nothing was better than having to lie about the Rillis Mountain range.

  “Honestly, I think it was the Seers,” said Juan. “Your people are good at moving quietly through the woods. I only spotted them because I knew what to watch for.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I bet Darrin had a vision, or he got word of Sayre and Niklas having one and decided to tail them. Either way, I will be in this area until sunset. I’m going to move the boulder back in place since I need to take down my tent. I don’t recommend leaving the dugout until nightfall.” He turned to leave.

  “Juan, again, thank you so much,” said Landon. He stood and clasped Juan’s shoulder. “Be careful.”

  Juan smiled, though it was strained. “You too, Lan.” He squeezed Landon’s shoulder in return and left, rolling the boulder back into place.

  Landon returned to Myra’s side, flexing both feet to stretch his calves. “Now we get to wait and count roots.”

  “Ugh,” said Myra, beginning to roll up her trouser leg once more. “At least we’ll be able to take our time finding food. It’d be nice to eat something other than pheasants and weasels.”

  “I could do with a couple of biscuits,” Landon said wistfully. “Bacon would be better. There’s got to be a few runaway pigs about somewhere.”

  “I hope our horses are nearby,” Myra added, applying the poultice to her burns. “It’d be nice to have the option of moving faster than our two feet.”

  They fell into silence as Myra worked on her blistered skin. Landon rewrapped the blanket around him to continue his carving in private. He was making the last touches when he heard horses snorting and men’s voices. He scooted to one of the many air holes in the dugout and peered through it. He saw dark shapes pass in front of the tiny tunnel, but the limited view made it impossible to make out man or horse. After several minutes of futile watching, Landon settled his back against the wall, his eyes drifting to one of the satchels Myra had made. The Wizard’s Seal was in there, tucked away in a pouch full of tea leaves.

  “Landon, do you think we’re the last ones heading to Rillis?” Myra asked. She tried to sound carefree, but Landon heard the tension in her tone.

  “No,” he lied. “I think there are some behind us. We’ll come across them or they’ll find us.” He arched his back, stretching his spine. He doubted there was anyone friendly behind them, but he didn’t want to give into that uncertainty. He wanted to hope that that night, the next day, or two days from now the boulder would roll aside and a small group of Nircanians would enter.

  Myra sidled next to him. She laid her head on his shoulder. “Do we need to do more healing?” she asked.

  Landon shook his head. “All better. I checked this morning,” he added, sensing a stern response from Myra.

  She twisted around to study his face. Landon smiled, conveying the truth. Satisfied, she settled into his arms again.

  “But,” he said, his heart racing with excitement, “I do have one more task I need to finish. . . .”

  He sensed Myra’s frown. “Task? Do you have a personal schoolwork assignment or something?”

  “I do.” Awkwardly, he reached into his pocket and withdrew the small wooden object he had been working on for the past day and half. He pulled his other arm free of Myra’s body and took her left hand. Silently praying for a perfect fit, he slid the hand-carved ring onto her finger. It slipped past the second knuckle to rest flawlessly in its proper place.

  Myra bolted upright, her eyes wide. She held her hand out, fingers splayed, and gawped at the ring. Landon had carved a lily in the center, with stems and leaves winding around the band. On either side of the flower, he had carved two falcons, which he knew to be her favorite bird.

  “Does it fit?” he asked. He eyed the ring, noting flaws that he had missed before. “I need to fix one of the leaves. Here, let me—"

  “I love it!” said Myra, clutching her own hand. She looked at Landon, her face splitting into a joyous smile. “It’s perfect!” She threw herself on Landon, kissing him long and hard.

  He happily returned that kiss, his heart bursting with love that the Seal could never destroy. With the war happening, it was a relief to have a moment of peace, even if he, Myra, and the angels were the only ones who knew their engagement was official.

  “Can I please fix one of those leaves?” Landon tried again when Myra settled back at his side.

  “Nope! I like it the way it is,” she said excitedly. She kept running a finger over the ring. Landon grinned, and continued to playfully nag her to surrender it for improvements. They bantered back and forth until Myra stopped him with another passionate kiss.

  The dugout grew warmer as the day progressed, the summer’s heat warming the boulder. Landon and Myra sipped the canteen to make the water last. Landon took to weaving one of the bowstrings, humming softly as he worked. Myra went through the supplies, organizing them into the few satchels they had made from the animal skins. She paused often to admire her ring, beaming with delight. Landon watched her in those moments, relishing her joy. Who knew how long it would last.

  The vibrations and sounds of the army lessened and then disappeared just as the light coming in through the air holes darkened. Myra relit the coals in their small firepit and pulled out some leftover meat. Landon watched her, then stood up and took the canteen. He slung it over his shoulder and went to the boulder.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Myra demanded.

  “Little boy’s bush,” Landon replied, “and I’ll refill the canteen while I’m at it. I’ll be careful, Myra,” he said as her eyebrows pulled together in worry.

  Myra chewed her lip and her hand drifted to twirl a strand of her hair. “I’ll get the water again. I don’t mind, Lan, honest, but I think the less we’re outside the better. Juan may be the only one in the area, but you know the Caborcans barely trust him. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re spying on him. I’ll get the water and you do your business. Deal?”

  Landon wanted to argue, but his bladder wasn’t going to wait. He surrendered the canteen and shoved the boulder open. Myra kicked dirt onto the coals and slipped around the rock. Landon made to follow, but hesitated. He glanced at one of the satchels where the Seal was kept. He wanted to leave it there, but the Seal had never been left unguarded since the sword had been destroyed. As much as he hated it, the Seal wasn’t something that should be left lying around.

  Making his decision, Landon quickly dug out the pouch and shoved it in his pocket. He then made his way to the latrine bush, crouching low in case any scouts were lingering behind the armies. The sky was slightly dark, but he could still see. Birds chirped softly to one another, and a badger looked
up to watch Landon slink by.

  He was heading back to the dugout when voices reached his ears. Looking around, Landon spotted several lanterns coming his way. This sometimes happened when he was going to and from the bush, but it was nothing to worry about. Majority of the time it was Juan, yet he still ducked behind a moss-covered log to wait.

  The lanterns bobbed closer, and a dozen men came into view. All were samurai except for three men, who were Caborcans. Landon recognized Juan, and, after a few moments of strained thinking, the Caborcan king’s advisor, Alvaro Ramirez. The third Caborcan, the one leading the group, Landon hadn’t seen before. He was tall with a short-trimmed beard and hard gray eyes. He carried himself as someone of high rank, and Landon wondered if he was the general Juan had mentioned.

  Juan wore an interested expression, but his eyes darted at the men surrounding him. Striding behind him was none other than Darrin Foran, looking pleased.

  Landon’s stomach plummeted. Every single man had a sword except for Juan. His sword was being carried by the Caborcan leading the group. Ramirez looked around in boredom, and the samurai wore grim expressions. Their eyes, however, glittered with anticipation, and they rested their hands on their hilts. Whenever Juan would drift towards a small gap in the circle, the samurai would bunch together, closing off the opening. It was subtle, as subtle as Juan’s nonchalant attempts to leave the circle, but their meaning was clear.

  Juan was their prisoner.

  Chapter 15

  Landon’s palms began to sweat, his thoughts racing for a way to free Juan without getting caught himself. The Seal responded to his agitation as it always did, burning in his pocket until his leg felt like it was on fire. He pulled out the pouch and tied it onto his cord belt, then followed the group.

  He slipped through the forest, tailing them. His heart pounded so loud that he thought it would give him away. It became louder when he realized where the party was heading. Judging by Juan’s expression, he knew it too.