Invasion and Dragons

by Jekka Jones

  Liliana said nothing, yet her expression was answer enough.

  “Face it, Tamer,” said Sri’Lanca, “we’re bonded for life until one of us dies—which was why I was giving you the opportunity to kill me. Better to be dead than stuck with you.”

  The waves of bitterness mixed with savage pleasure from the dragon overwhelmed Landon, and for a moment he couldn’t respond. “You attacked us hoping I would use the Wizard’s Seal again,” he clarified, knowing it was true. “You hoped that I, or my parents, would kill us both with the Seal.”

  “Yes.” The dragon sneered. “You deserve the same hell I have lived with since Judan’s death. You think I enjoyed hunting you? I didn’t. We dragons view eating humans as a form of cannibalism. You are sentient beings like ourselves, yet I thirsted for your blood. I wanted to shred you to pieces and eat your bowels. I thought the pain of Judan’s death was the worst thing that could happen to me, but I was so wrong. Binding to you, a murderer, is a true frozen wasteland.”

  Landon remembered that was the term Dagnorians used for Hell. He stared at the dragon, feeling that he too was trapped in Hell. Three Seers sat on his doorstep, the nations were bent on destroying his people, and he was bonded to Sri’Lanca—a dragon that wanted his blood, and Landon now wanted his.

  “Why bond with me in the first place?” he countered. “Liliana told me that the dragon chooses to bond with a human.” He raised his eyes to gaze into Sri’Lanca’s. “If you hate me so much, why did you bond to me?”

  Sri’Lanca snarled. “It was a moment of weakness that I regret, and I am now trying to fix.” His cat-like eyes drifted to the pouch in Sierra’s hand.

  Sierra stiffened and stepped back from the dragon, tears beading her eyes. “No matter how much I despise this,” she said firmly, “I will not kill my own son.”

  Sri’Lanca snorted, amused. Landon sensed that amusement and knew the dragon was readying a hurtful retort. “How did you find me?” he asked, hoping to distract the dragon.

  “I tracked you.” The dragon’s voice was like a deep purr. “Part of the blessings of the bond allows me to find you—not as easily as following animal tracks through mud, but I can feel if I am getting nearer to you. It is as though we are tied together with a little string that thickens the closer I get to you.”

  Cold realization settled in the pit of Landon’s stomach. “That’s how you found this valley,” he whispered. “You tracked me through the mountain.”

  Not too far away, Myra swore.

  “Yes, Landon Dayn. I tracked you through the mountain,” said Sri’Lanca. “I’ve been tracking you for the past two days. It took me longer than I wanted because I was following you from the ground. It was safer that way, and the chances of a dragon finding me were almost zero.”

  Ti’Luthin let out a vexed hiss and flicked his tail. “I should have thought of that. That is exactly what I would have done. No one expects a dragon to crawl on its belly like a serpent.” The gray dragon shook his head. “Landon, I am sorry. We were hoping to spot Sri’Lanca searching for you from the air, but we were too late. I am sorry I was unable to intervene sooner.”

  “It’s not your fault, Ti’Luthin,” Landon said. “You stopped Sri’Lanca from attacking our camp. I couldn’t live with myself if another person died.” He looked to where Alyssa sat on a log, head in her hands and gazing fixedly at the ground. Will sat beside her, holding her in his arms. He glared at the dragon as though willing the fires of Hell to burn him to ashes.

  “Is Eli really dead?” asked Morgan, speaking for the first time.

  Landon nodded.

  “Where . . .” Morgan swallowed. “Where is he buried?”

  “Jake and some others are retrieving his body,” Johnston answered. “They should be back by now.”

  “If there is anything for them to retrieve,” Sri’Lanca giggled. “The man was squashed like a worm underfoot. Blood and—Yaaargh!”

  Ti’Luthin whipped his tail across Sri’Lanca’s snout. The brown dragon yowled and clutched his nose, screwing up his eyes in pain. Smoke curled from Ti’Luthin’s nostrils, and they glowed with a deep red light. “You,” he said in a loud voice that rumbled throughout the air, “will show respect to the dead.” Ti’Luthin turned to Landon, his features softening. “Landon, I know this is rhetorical, but do you understand what has happened between you and Sri’Lanca?”

  Landon nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He felt drained of all emotion, his head and body aching from the attack and the sensations coming from Sri’Lanca. It had been worse than he expected. The bond allowed Sri’Lanca to track him, extended Landon’s life, and kill him if Sri’Lanca was killed—and he couldn’t hurt Sri’Lanca, couldn’t make him suffer for Eli’s death, because the bond wouldn’t allow it. Landon was stuck with Sri’Lanca for the rest of his life.

  And they were supposed to be friends? Companions? Partners? Sri’Lanca had almost burned Myra to death, had chased Landon all over the face of Nircana, and had killed Eli. He stared at Sri’Lanca, watching the dragon rub his snout, flick his wings and tail, and mutter obscenities under his breath. He felt Sri’Lanca’s hatred towards him and knew there was no forgiveness—from either of them. He couldn’t forgive Sri’Lanca anymore than Angen could have forgiven him.

  “Landon,” said Johnston. The constable stepped in front of Landon and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go. You need some distance from this beast. Ti’Luthin, can I trust you to watch Sri’Lanca until I organize a guard for him? I will send doctors and their assistants to help with your wounds.”

  Ti’Luthin had been scolding the younger dragon, berating him for his behavior. He broke off his chastisement and frowned. “Yes, but not for long. We need to return and report,” he replied, motioning to Liliana. “They will have seen me attack Sri’Lanca from the air and will want to know what is happening.”

  Diego jerked at this. “You’re going to tell them my son has tamed Sri’Lanca?”

  Both Landon and Sri’Lanca whipped around to gaze at Liliana. He felt his own fear clash with Sri’Lanca’s hope and avoided the dragon’s eye. He didn’t want Dre’Goran to know. Who knows what the Dagnorians would do if they knew Landon had tamed Sri’Lanca.

  “We may have to, Landon, to protect our cover,” Ti’Luthin said, regarding Sri’Lanca with distaste. “Liliana has done marvelously in our reports—phrasing the truth without jeopardizing my morals, but this will be difficult. Still, we shall try to keep it a secret as long as possible.” He smiled fondly at her, and Liliana blushed.

  “Go on, Landon,” Liliana said. “Don’t worry about your dragon. We’ll keep an eye on him. And don’t worry about his wounds, he’ll cauterize them and be fine.”

  “What about food?” barked Sri’Lanca, and he spat sparks on the ground. “If I starve to death then you will die too, Tamer. How do you expect me to eat? I don’t eat grass like that red beast of yours.”

  Landon’s heart somersaulted. In his mind, he heard the snap of a breaking spine and the dying screams of a horse. Anger coursed through his body, but he didn’t know if it was still Sri’Lanca’s or his. He wanted Sri’Lanca to go away and leave him in peace, but he knew that couldn’t happen. Sri’Lanca wouldn’t allow it.

  “I will provide food for both of us,” Ti’Luthin said, glaring at Sri’Lanca. “Landon, may I have your permission to do whatever is necessary to ensure Sri’Lanca does not leave this valley?”

  “Sure,” said Landon, and he got to his feet. He turned his back on the dragons and walked away.

  A headache throbbed in his temples, and he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. But he knew from experience that sleep would mean that he would relive Eli and Oni’s deaths, fighting Sri’Lanca, and eventually every horrifying and terrible thing that had ever happened to him. There was no way he could sleep after all this. He had tamed a dragon, and that dragon wanted nothing more than to kill him in some crazy suicidal mission.

  The others trailed after him. He
heard Morgan tell Liliana that he was going with Landon, and she assured him she would be along in a moment.

  “Morgan, don’t leave him alone, okay?” Landon heard her say.

  Landon stopped and turned around. “I’m not going to do what he did,” he said, his voice stronger than he felt. “I’m not going to kill myself to get even.”

  Sri’Lanca snorted.

  Landon stared into Sri’Lanca’s eyes. “You’re not the worst thing to happen to me, Sri’Lanca. As much as you hate me and I hate you, remember it was you that decided to bond to me. Think about that while you deal with your sins.” He turned and walked off.

  The others trailed after him. No one spoke, and no one tried to take his hand or put an arm about his shoulders. Landon was grateful for that. He didn’t want to be touched. He couldn’t get over the sensation of feeling Sri’Lanca. He felt tainted, soiled to be connected to the being that had been responsible for his adopted father’s death. It was like being shackled to a criminal, or having a slave.

  After several paces, Juan said, “Landon, why didn’t you tell us?”

  Landon’s eyes burned, and he blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. “I didn’t want it to be true,” he admitted. “Liliana and I did have an argument at the spring, and she asked me questions—questions that would’ve cleared up the whole matter, but I blew her off.”

  “What sort of questions?” Diego asked quietly.

  Landon hesitated, and Morgan replied instead. “Did your body and soul become engulfed in a warm sensation? Did your heart skip beats as if trying to match a new rhythm?”

  “Yes,” Landon answered.

  “And your shoulders and lower back muscles twitched as if you had wings and a tail? Have you been feeling emotions that aren’t your own?”

  “Yes. To both.”

  “Did you make eye contact?”

  Landon took a shuddering breath and nodded, trying once more to hold back the tears. “Yes. I assume that’s how I know the bond’s formed?” he glanced at Morgan, who was walking right beside him.

  Morgan nodded. “Ti’Luthin said eye contact is key. Dragons believe the eyes are the doors to the soul, and eye contact allows them to know if the bond has formed.”

  Landon thought about this. Sri’Lanca had all but run from Landon after their eyes locked. That moment was as vivid in his memory as Eli’s death.

  A depressed silence fell on the small group. Alyssa slipped her arm through Landon’s, and both supported each other as the ground angled upwards. Landon felt Myra’s eyes boring into the back of his head, but she remained silent. He didn’t have the strength to face her anger, and she knew it.

  Several peacekeepers stood on the outskirts of the camp, waiting to greet them. Johnston asked them where the judges were.

  “They’re in the north tent,” said one of the female officers. “Is anyone hurt?”

  “Not physically,” Diego answered. “Have Jake and the others returned?”

  The peacekeeper shook her head, her eyes drifting to Landon and Alyssa. “Judge Temmings sent another group to see what was taking so long. They left a few minutes ago. Do you—er, need anything?”

  “A quiet place to sit,” said Johnston. “Maybe some water and food if we can spare it. It has been a rough day for them. You all take it easy, especially you, Landon. I’ll be back once I fill the judges in on what has happened.” With that, the constable hurried off.

  The peacekeeper led Landon, his parents, Will, Myra, Juan, and Morgan to a secluded fire pit. Campers both young and old kept their distance, whispering their concern to each other. Landon barely heard them as he sank onto one of the logs. Diego and Sierra took the vacant space beside him, and Alyssa took his other side. She squeezed his shoulder. The others sat and a low murmur of thanks rippled around the area as canteens were passed around. A canteen was placed in his hands, and someone told him to drink. He sipped, wishing it was something alcoholic. A surge of grief mingled with mirth filled his body. Landon’s queasy stomach became queasier, and he sucked in air to keep from retching.

  “Landon,” said Alyssa, rubbing his back. “It’ll be okay, sweetie. We’ll get through this.”

  “I would’ve never expected,” said Diego, shaking his head, “that you would tame a dragon, let alone the one that brought me into Dagnor.” His eyes were hard and angry. “Musuko, I think the Seal reacts to the bond.”

  All eyes turned to him quizzically.

  “What do you mean, eliin?” Sierra asked.

  “You told me that after your fight with Sri’Lanca you felt cold every time you used the Seal,” Diego went on. “A coldness around your heart. You told me the power wasn’t cold until after you nearly killed Sri’Lanca, after you tamed him.”

  He paused, and his words sank in. Landon’s stomach twisted until it hurt. If the power, or the bond, made Landon cold, then how did it affect Sri’Lanca? Could he use the Seal? Landon shuddered at the thought.

  “We should keep the Seal away from Sri’Lanca,” said Sierra, reaching the same conclusion as Landon. “Just in case he . . .”

  Landon waited, but Sierra never finished her sentence. She was gazing at the nearest cave entrance. Landon followed her gaze to see ten people emerging from the tunnels. At first, it was hard to tell what was going on due to the number of bodies flocking towards the group. Then the Nircanians parted as Jake and his companions came towards them. Their faces were grim, and Jake wiped his face as if he were sweating. Landon’s muscles tensed, and he held his breath.

  They stopped in front of them. “I’m sorry,” Jake said, his voice cracking. “The dragon had uncovered him but . . . it was impossible to bring him back. We buried him and found a flat stone to mark the grave. We were going to carve his name into it, but a bunch of Lythrans came into the canyon just then and we had to leave. I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

  Landon nodded mutely, and Alyssa said, “Thank you, Jake.”

  Jake nodded. “Landon, we also buried Oni. Well . . . piled rocks over him so the crows won’t get to him, and I . . . well . . . here.” He stuck his hand into his pocket and withdrew a braided cord.

  Landon took it, running his fingers over the coarse horse hair. It was bright red and tied at both ends with twine. A lump formed in his throat and his eyes burned.

  “It’s from his tail,” said Jake.

  “Thank you,” Landon replied in a husky voice. Jake nodded and left. The cord was long enough for Landon to wind it around his wrist twice. Myra reached over and helped him tie it off.

  They sat in silence for minutes, and then Alyssa and Will began to discuss what to do about a funeral. It was too dangerous to return to the canyon, but maybe they could have a memorial service instead? Landon listened, giving his input when asked. After a few minutes, he realized he wanted to be alone. There were too many emotions flying around inside him. He needed peace and quiet. Even if he couldn’t escape from Sri’Lanca, he could at least escape the noise and bustle of people.

  Landon stood. Everyone stiffened, watching him with worry. “Just going to get more water,” he said, shaking the now empty canteen. “I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for a response, he walked away from the group.

  After asking around, Landon made his way to a small creek that flowed into the valley near the slopes. It was currently deserted, which Landon was grateful for. Not bothering about the canteen, he sat on a rock, facing away from the valley and the two dragons inside it.

  Oni’s braided tail was itchy, and he gently rubbed his skin, fiddling with the hair. He gazed at the army sprawled below, watching the many flags snapping in the breeze. No one was fighting, and Landon saw men wandering around a wide stretch of trodden earth separating the two sides. They were moving bodies, rocks, and weapons around.

  Landon heard the rustle of clothing and half-turned his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Myra, Morgan, and Juan approach.

  “There you are,” said Morgan. “I was afraid you had fallen into a hole or someth
ing.” He plopped on the ground next to Landon and frowned at the armies. “Ugly, aren’t they.”

  Landon’s lips twitched, but he couldn’t bring himself to smile. “We should throw tomatoes and lettuce at them until they go away.”

  Morgan pulled a face. “That’s an insult to the veggies and you know it, Lan. A good tomato shouldn’t be wasted on scum like that.” He waved at the armies. “So, Sri’Lanca’s your dragon now.”

  Landon screwed his eyes shut and clenched his fist. “He’s not my dragon. We may be bonded, but I want nothing to do with him.”

  Morgan snickered. “That’s word for word what I said to Liliana when she asked me how I thought you would react. In all honesty, you’re taking it better than I thought.”

  “I still would like an explanation as to why you didn’t tell us,” said Myra. She and Juan sat on Landon’s other side, and by their expressions, Landon knew it was taking all their self-control not to strangle him.

  “I told you, I didn’t want it to be true. And if it was, then I didn’t want you involved, Myra. You’re in enough danger as it is.” He pointed to the wooden ring on her left hand.

  Myra looked down at her ring and then back at Landon. “I know you’re trying to protect me, but we’re past that point.” She said, her voice shaking with suppressed rage. “I feel like I’ve proven to you time and time again that I can keep your secrets, and yet you don’t tell me this? Did I betray you?”

  Landon stared at her, shocked at her words. “Betray me? Myra, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I could never feel betrayed by you!” He looked at Juan and Morgan. “Any of you.”

  “Really?” said Juan. “Because that’s how I . . . we feel.”

  “Juan. . . .”

  “What I’m trying to say is,” said Myra, fiddling with a strand of her hair, as she always did when she was upset, “you shouldn’t have waited until a dragon was attacking to tell us. Even if you weren’t sure about the taming thing, you shouldn’t have told me after everyone else!”