Invasion and Dragons

by Jekka Jones

  “We will try to recover his body,” said Temmings. “I promise. Let’s take a break and check our wounds. I expect Nick will be back any moment.”

  No sooner had the chief judge finished speaking that the cavern began to echo with the sound of running feet. A light appeared at the opposite tunnel and ten people ran into the cavern. They stumbled to a halt and Landon spotted Alyssa and Diego. His eyes flicked to Diego’s belt, but the pouch wasn’t there. Juan, sensing Landon’s thoughts, placed a hand on his elbow.

  Temmings was also aware of this, and he stepped in front of Diego. “Diego, do you have the Seal?”

  “No,” Diego answered, and his worried expression changed to annoyance. “I left it with Sierra. We heard what sounded like dragons attacking, and I didn’t want them to get their hands on it. Is everyone all right?” He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on Landon for a moment. He smiled, reassured to see his son standing.

  Among the ten newcomers were Judge Rickins, Morgan’s father, and Sam. The doctor went straight to the side of a man who had half his face covered in blood. Landon watched without seeing as Sam began tending the man.

  His mind was snapped to the present with Alyssa’s voice. “Now where did my husband get off to?”

  She was searching the party with a frown on her face. Her eyes alighted on Landon, flashed with relief, and moved on. There was a strained, tense silence in which Landon’s heart began to race. The lingering hatred trickled away into nothing, leaving him to face his grief alone.

  He turned away from his mother and stumbled to the wall. He leaned against it, but his legs shook so much that he slid to the ground, turning his back on everyone. Juan followed him, sitting beside him and laying a hand on his shoulder.

  “I know how you feel, Lan,” he whispered. “The day after I was banished, Eli pulled me aside and told me he would look after me. He assured me that I had nothing to worry about.” His voice choked and his arm moved to wipe his face. “He said he had raised a lost son of Hondel, and would be happy to provide for a . . . a lost son of Caborca.”

  Landon looked up to see his tear-streaked face. “He was a great dad,” he whispered.

  Juan nodded. “So was mine.”

  As though from a great distance, he heard Temmings say, “I’m sorry, Alyssa, but Eli . . .” The chief judge told the story as gently as he could, choosing his words with great care.

  Landon kept his back to Alyssa, yet he felt her eyes on him more than once. He shivered, wishing someone would put out the candlelight so the darkness could devour him. Juan stayed with him, breathing deeply to control his own sobs.

  Alyssa asked where Eli’s body was, her voice breaking with tears. Diego, rage lacing his tone, demanded that they retrieve his body right now. Landon blocked out Temmings’ response and prayed his parents wouldn’t turn their attention on him. Hearing the grief was bad enough; he didn’t want to see it.

  Someone approached Landon and Juan sat down beside them. It was Myra. Landon stared at her, his shocked brain trying to figure out how she got there. Had she been in the crowd and he hadn’t noticed?

  His confusion was plain as day because Myra said, “I wasn’t supposed to come but I did anyways. Don’t tell anyone.” She forced a smile which sent a tear trickling down her cheek. She wiped it away and sniffed, looked at Landon, and wrapped her arms around him. She sobbed quietly into his neck. Landon held her, knowing he should express his grief but unable to. She pulled away from him and embraced Juan.

  “Sweetie?”

  Landon looked up. Alyssa and Diego were standing over him, both with wet cheeks and quivering lips. The look on their faces pierced Landon’s heart.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, pleading for them to understand. “I couldn’t . . . I tried but it happened so fast. . . .”

  “We know, musuko,” said Diego, crouching down to Landon’s level, “and it is not your fault. Don’t forget that.”

  Landon stared at him, feeling no comfort in those words. His father didn’t say it, but he knew Diego was blaming Sri’Lanca. Except Landon may have tamed Sri’Lanca. It was his fault. He wasn’t sure if he could have deliberately killed Sri’Lanca, especially if they were bonded, but he could’ve done something.

  Landon wanted to say those words more than ever now. To confess this secret that had been haunting him for days. Get it off his chest. . . .

  “Mom . . . I . . .” but she and Diego were hugging him. Alyssa clung to him, weeping into his shoulder. Landon’s neck and shirt were soon soaked with tears, and he found himself putting on a brave face. He wasn’t crying but he wasn’t comforting Alyssa either.

  At one point, Mr. Giles wandered over to join them. He gazed at the tunnel leading back to the canyon. His hands shook, and his watering eyes tried to hold a calm face.

  They were in the cavern for at least an hour, mourning, while Sam and the two judges bound up cuts. Juan had a gash on his arm that would need stitching, whereas Landon had a few cuts and bruises but nothing serious. Johnston offered a prayer, asking for the courage to forgive Sri’Lanca, and gratitude for Eli’s bravery and self-sacrifice. Jake and five others returned to the canyon to see what they could do about Eli’s body. They promised to bring it to the camp if they could, and Alyssa thanked them. Rickins and Nick went ahead to inform Johnston and the others of what had happened.

  Water was passed around and the group resumed their journey to Swallow Falls in silence. As they walked, Landon and Diego flanked Alyssa. She held onto their arms like an old woman too weak to walk. Her sobs had died away and she stared straight ahead with swollen eyes.

  Landon kept his head down and watched his feet. His body ached with each step, and he allowed the pain to lap away his grief, dull it to something more tolerable. He had wanted to stay in the cavern and wait for Jake’s group to return with Eli’s body—Alyssa, Diego, and Juan had wanted to as well—but everyone, including Sam, had told them it was time to go. They’d insisted there was nothing to be done, and rest and food was what they needed most.

  Eventually, the grief disappeared. He was left with nothing but a numb emptiness that should have been some sort of emotion.

  It was only when they had walked for another hour and a half that both Juan and Diego gave low gasps of astonishment. Landon looked up and amusement flickered inside him at their faces. The passages were streaked with veins of gold and silver. The light from the lanterns bounced off large uncut jewels jutting out of the rock. The Nircanians scarcely gave their surroundings a second glance, but they grinned at Diego and Juan’s dumbstruck expressions.

  “If the kings knew about this,” said Juan, “they would stop fighting each other and work more on defeating you.” He was turning in circles as he walked, trying to take in the walls while moving forward.

  “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” said Temmings. “I’m having enough trouble with them picking at us. And this is nothing compared to the Hall of Suns near Chatterlon’s Vale. It’s a cavern as big as a house with so much gold and silver in the walls that all you need is a small lantern to see.”

  “How is this still here?” asked Diego. “Do you mine any of it?”

  “Only for weddings,” answered Mr. Higgins with a very significant look at Landon and his daughter. “We mine enough to make the couple’s first dishware and cutlery, jewelry for the bride, and the rings of course. The engagement ring may be simple, but the wedding bands are always a work of art.”

  “I’ve noticed,” said Diego, awed. “And yet how can there still be so much of it?”

  “Because we’re not greedy,” said Mr. Giles simply. “We Nircanians know that when we put riches before God and family, that will be the day when the Most High will take back our freedom. Since we don’t want that to happen, we do our best to resist the temptation. Sure, there are some who get miserly, but then he or she has good friends to put them in their place.”

  “How so?” asked Juan.

  “We tell them that we’ll nominate them as
Nircana’s first king or queen.”

  Juan and Diego laughed. “That would do it,” said Juan.

  “Diego,” said Mr. Higgins, “My boys and I can help you recreate yours and Sierra’s wedding rings, along with any other jewelry that had a lot of family significance to you two.”

  “I would appreciate that very much, thank you.”

  As they talked, Landon eyed a diamond jutting from a wall. The gems and precious metals reminded him of the pathetic ring he had thrown together for Myra. Yes, the engagement rings were usually fashioned from wood or stone and polished, but the young man would spend days working on it. Landon’s hastily whittled band didn’t seem proper for Myra.

  ”Speaking of weddings, when are you having yours, sweetie?” Alyssa asked, turning to grin at Landon.

  “And where?” asked Diego.

  “Who’s going to be your best man, Morgan or I?” Juan added. “Nothing like a wedding to ease everyone’s minds, war or no war.”

  “Er . . .” Landon looked at Myra for help, but she had the same panicked expression as him.

  Everyone burst out laughing, and for a minute everything was okay. Yet it was with a sinking heart that Landon knew there was one laugh missing. The thought spread because the laughter soon died, and Eli’s absence settled over them once more. He became aware of mirthful feelings in his body, and he shuddered. Even a mountain wasn’t enough to block him from Sri’Lanca.

  “Finally,” muttered Temmings. “We’re here.”

  Natural light danced on the walls—and then glared in their eyes as they rounded the bend. Landon’s eyes watered and it took several long minutes for them to adjust.

  The campsite was in a wide valley that opened to the north. It was high enough that Landon could see the Lythran armies sprawled below. At the edge of the valley, where the steep slopes swept down to the foothills, were the Nircanians’ own catapults and war machines. Men and women stirred around them, loading catapults and refitting spears for the next attack. White rags were tied around trees dispersed around the valley, marking cave entrances. A large waterfall tumbled on the far side of a ridge to the west. Its waters flowed and cascaded down the slopes until it ended in a pool barely visible among the foothills.

  Voices cried out in relief, and soon Landon and the others were rushed to several lean-tos scattered throughout the camp. The smell of cooking food and the unwashed bodies of men, women, children, and horses flooded Landon’s nostrils. A second later, he was seated on a folded blanket and a wooden bowl of soup was shoved into his hands.

  Voices clamored all around, asking about the dragon attack and if everyone was all right. Johnston and another judge’s voice shot through the din, calling for a meeting. He tried to eavesdrop, but too many questions were bombarding his senses. He answered them as best he could, but after a few minutes, he felt like he wasn’t making any sense. Why did they have to hear him say “Eli’s dead” and “Sri’Lanca attacked” a thousand times? Wasn’t once enough?

  All the while, Sri’Lanca’s joy bubbled inside him.

  “Where’s Dad? Lan, where’d he go?”

  Landon looked up to see Will’s face right in front of his. Will was pale and he had one hand on Landon’s shoulder.

  “You haven’t heard?” Landon asked. His voice was hoarse and raspy.

  “Heard what? I was helping with the horses when you showed up. Everyone’s saying you were attacked by dragons, but they’re too busy rallying for a war meeting to give me details. I asked Mom, but she won’t say anything. Where is he, Lan? Where’s Dad?”

  “Dead,” Landon answered, and told him what happened in a dry, emotionless voice. He felt empty and drained, and he couldn’t look Will in the eye as he talked. It was too hard.

  Will was silent when he finished. Landon stared at his soup, watching a diced carrot bob in the amber liquid next to some meaty chunk. He heard Juan repeating the story to Sierra somewhere behind him. Landon closed his eyes and tried to block out Sierra’s horrified gasp.

  “Eat, Landon,” came Sam’s voice. “It’ll make you feel better. Trust me.” He was sitting with an arm around Alyssa. Landon’s mother was slurping her soup one shaky spoonful at a time. Behind him, Landon heard Sierra ask about Eli’s body.

  “Doc’s right,” said Will, trembling, “you should eat something. You’re not fat enough.” He scooped the soup and offered it to Landon.

  Landon stared at it and took the spoon from Will. As soon as the warm liquid touched his tongue, tears began to flow. He had another spoonful, and another. With every mouthful, emotional pain clamored to the surface, flooded into every part of his being, into every corner of his heart and mind. It chased away Sri’Lanca’s joy and Landon’s emptiness. The more he felt, the more he struggled to control his sobs.

  He knew that although Eli was dead, he was not lost like the Borikans believed. Death was not the end, but a transition. Landon had seen it—had almost experienced it. Every drop and choking shudder reminded him that time would heal this wound.

  If only it didn’t hurt so much.

  The spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl and brought up nothing. Landon stared. It was empty, and he hadn’t tasted any of it. He sat motionless, trying to understand how the soup had disappeared so quickly. He blinked, and the bowl was gone from his hands. Will sat next to him and wrapped him in his arms. Landon leaned into his brother’s chest and let his tears fall. Will’s own splattered on the top of his head.

  “Remember, Lan, he’s in Paradise now. . . . He’s in Paradise.”

  “I know,” said Landon. Before he knew it, he was telling Will about his near-death dream months ago, and meeting Castiel. He left nothing out, including Angen—who had attacked him thinking his brother’s resurrection required more of Landon’s blood.

  “Dad’s there,” he finished, sucking in deep breathes. “With Castiel and Grandpa and everyone else. My stupid horse too. I know it.”

  “Exactly,” Will said quietly. “He’s with them, and they’re with us.”

  Landon nodded in agreement. “Where’s Daisy? And Heather and Cassie?”

  “Sheep Cave, three valleys north. My family’s with them.”

  “How . . . how are we going to tell them?” Landon asked.

  Will ran his fingers through his hair and looked around. “As soon as I send them a message, I guess. But I need to do something. Dad always said busy hands make busy minds. Do you have any broken bones?”

  Landon shook his head, and stretched one leg. His muscles had seized up, and the simple movement felt like his sinews were parting from his bones. “Just sore. Help me up.” He took Will’s offered hand and stood. He grimaced and hobbled a few steps until his muscles loosened.

  “Chris!” Will called. “Do you need help with those supplies?”

  A tall, lanky young man looked up. “I definitely wouldn’t say no to that. Aya and I have a ton of meat that needs to be cured.”

  “Show us what to do.”

  For the next few hours, Landon cut all the game that his group had gathered on their journey, and handed it to Will for salting. It was a menial chore and one that Landon would have griped about under different circumstances. After everything that had happened, he welcomed the repetitious task of carving pheasants, rabbits, and deer. It required enough concentration that his mind couldn’t wander. He couldn’t dwell on the fact that some meat had bits of red horse hair stuck to it, or that a quail was wrapped in one of Eli’s washrags.

  Will chatted with Chris and the other Nircanians. They talked about everything and yet nothing at the same time. The camp bustled and worked while children played games or got underfoot. No one mentioned the armies on the other side of the ridge, or Sri’Lanca’s attack. For a moment, everything was okay.

  A few hours later, as Landon was cutting the last deer leg, one of the Nircanians salting meat started shaking her head. She wiggled a finger in her ear. “All right! Whoever is whistling under their breath, will you stop it?” she snapped. “It’s
getting annoying.”

  “Aya, no one’s . . .” Chris began but he stopped, listening.

  Everyone stopped talking. They sat in place, unmoving with their heads cocked to the side. Landon picked out a distant, high-pitched whistle. It was soft and barely discernable over the camp sounds, but it grew louder with each passing second.

  Landon’s body seized up in terror, every muscle quivering with pent-up energy. He was like a bowstring, drawn back and waiting to be released. Blood drained from his face. His heart pounded in his ears, loud and rampant. He focused on his emotions. Underneath his grief, he felt resolution. As if Landon had a plan and he knew it would work.

  Fear shoved aside Landon’s grief and pushed against that resolute feeling. He jumped to his feet, his body protesting at the movement. He turned towards the sky, riveted by disbelief. Will and the others followed his gaze.

  “Impossible . . .” Will whispered.

  A large black speck was silhouetted against the white clouds, growing at an alarming rate. The muscles in Landon’s back reacted, tightening until he could barely move his arms. The incoming dragon flapped its wings a few times for speed, causing Landon’s back to shudder. Landon knew, thanks to his emotions, that Sri’Lanca was excited for more bloodshed. The image of Eli trapped under a rock, blood trickling from his mouth, sprang to his mind.

  He shouted, “Dragon! Incoming dragon!”

  The bustling Nircanians paused and looked. A stunned stillness settled over them before chaos broke loose. A horn blasted three shrill notes. Everyone ran towards the marked caves, grabbing any kind of projectile they could on the way. Landon took a quarterstaff shoved at him. He didn’t know how it would help, but any weapon was better than none.

  Myra appeared beside him, muttering, “Impossible. We went through a damn mountain. A mountain! There’s no way he could have tracked us!”

  “How did he find me?” Landon cried. Although he couldn’t see Sri’Lanca’s face, he knew the dragon had a plan. He felt it.

  Sri’Lanca let out his laughing scream. Landon nearly tripped as he glanced at the sky to check the dragon’s progress. Sri’Lanca was almost upon them. The dragon’s grin winked with rows of fangs.