Invasion and Dragons

by Jekka Jones

  Ignoring the small voice in his head telling him to stop, Landon chucked the pouch and the Wizard’s Seal into the forest. It ricocheted off a tree and fell somewhere beyond a bush.

  Myra’s mouth dropped. “Landon!”

  “Come on,” said Landon, resuming his walk downstream. “I’m halfway done with the bandages.”

  Myra goggled at him, looking from him to the stand of trees. “Forget it,” he insisted, “it can’t walk away. And I don’t want it anywhere near me right now.”

  “I don’t think we should leave it out of sight,” said Myra. Her hands were shaking. “Your parents always have it on their person. What if someone finds it.”

  “It’s just us right now.” When Myra didn’t look convinced, he added, “I’ll go get it in a little bit. If an animal tries to take it,” he scowled, “I’m sure we’ll hear it shriek or something. Come on, Myra.”

  They climbed down to the lower pool, and Landon resumed his washing. Myra helped, saying little as tears fell from her eyes. Landon tried to cheer her up by sharing Morgan’s latest antics to court Liliana. Myra snickered, but it was half-hearted. Landon felt the same way. He couldn’t shake the Seal from his mind and often glanced towards the trees where it lay. He wished an animal would drag it into a burrow, yet he knew that wasn’t a solution. It was bonded to him as much as Sri’Lanca, and only death would free him of it.

  “That’s the last one,” said Landon, draping the final cloth on the basket with the others. “Let’s head back and get some food.”

  “You know, I’m not all that hungry,” said Myra, but she got to her feet anyways and took the empty basket.

  “Trust me, you’ll feel better once you start eating something. I bet we can talk Kevin into letting us have a couple strips of bacon. Maybe even a few strawberries too.”

  Myra licked her lips. “Bacon does sound good.” She twined her fingers through Landon’s. “Thanks, Lan. You are angelsent.”

  “Just trying to repay my debt,” Landon said. He kissed her long and softly on the lips. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Such a touching scene,” said a voice from above. “I would love to watch it all day, but we have a more pressing business to attend to.”

  Landon and Myra whirled, gazing towards the falls and upper pool where Sri’Lanca had been. Standing along the ridge were twenty warriors fingering their swords. Landon immediately recognized the pristine armor of samurai and the metal-plated jerkins of Borikans. Foremost among them, looking down upon him and Myra, was Darrin Foran, and Sayre and Kennin Drakshu. Every single face shone with triumph, and although no one spoke, Landon heard their silent cheers.

  Darrin cocked his head, one hand resting on the hilt of his katana. His dark eyes drank in Landon’s shocked face. “I thought for sure you would hear us,” the Samurai Master called. “The Gods be praised you were by a waterfall. I am glad to see you are doing well, Landon.”

  Hearing his name snapped Landon from his frozen stupor. He seized Myra’s hand, dropped the basket and its freshly cleaned wrappings, and ran for the trees. The terrain was steep and rocky, not ideal for running compared to the upper pool, but Landon didn’t care. All that mattered was the safety of the forest. They could easily lose the Seers, switchback up the slope, and warn his people.

  They were almost to the forest when more Borikans and samurai materialized in front of them. They stepped from the shadows, drawing their swords and grinning like devils. They advanced, spreading out along the trees.

  “Down!” Landon and Myra both yelled to each other. They swerved as one and scrambled down the slope, yet more men were coming from that direction. They flooded from the opposite forest, streaming along the rocks like a swarm of ants. Landon and Myra stopped short and scrambled back to the level ground, knocking a few pebbles free.

  “Do you have a knife?” Landon asked, twisting his head around. His heart pounded in his ears, almost drowning out the oncoming men’s gleeful shouts.

  “Just my hunting one, but that’s not going to stop a sword,” said Myra. She pressed her back against Landon’s, and he sensed more than felt her draw her knife. In the corner of his eye, he saw her brandish the empty basket. She had held onto it despite the situation. Every man close enough to see roared with laughter.

  “Bring them here,” called Kennin.

  Landon’s foot nudged the other basket. He snatched it up as a Borikan came at him. The Borikan looked familiar, but that was the extent of his curiosity. The man didn’t draw his sword but came at Landon with his bare hands. Clean wrappings flew in all directions as Landon swung the basket, screaming something that was lost in his terror. As the Borikan scrabbled for a hold, Landon whacked the basket on any part of his assailant he could reach. The basket began to break apart, forcing the Borikan to crane his head aside or risk having a twig jab into his eye.

  More hands were reaching for him. Landon dropped the remains of the baskets and flailed with his fists and feet. He grabbed rocks when he could and smashed them into any face, leg, or arm that came at him. Beside him, Myra screamed for help. She too flailed with her knife and the tattered remains of her basket.

  All the while, hot fear coursed through him, strong and unrestrained as the wizard’s power. Where was Sri’Lanca? He had to be feeling Landon’s terror right now. He prayed that the dragon would come, see his tamer’s predicament, and rescue them.

  The fight seemed to last a long time, but in the end, Landon and Myra were no match against the horde. Myra was the first to scream out, and she ploughed into Landon, knocking him to the ground. Before either could recover, gloved and gauntleted hands seized them, twisting their arms behind their backs. Cords twined around Landon’s wrists and a surge of nightmares flashed before his eyes: Angen beating him, breaking his ankles, and tipping potions down his throat. He screamed, unsure if he was pleading for mercy or swearing at them. A rag was shoved into his mouth and tied off, the fabric cutting into the corners of his mouth.

  Landon was lifted to his feet and dragged towards the waiting Seers. He tried to twist out of his captor’s hands, but it was useless. One warrior had each of his arms, and another gripped him by the collar of his shirt from behind. Landon caught flashes of Myra, trussed up the same way and fighting just as hard. They were half-carried, half-dragged up the slope to the falls.

  Sri’Lanca where are you? Landon screamed in his mind and through his gag.

  “Tie them to a tree,” ordered Kennin, once Landon and Myra were dragged onto level ground. “Make sure they are facing each other; that will speed things along. I do not know how much time we have before someone comes looking.”

  “Berado knows to keep the Nircanians distracted until my signal,” Darrin replied. “Even if Egorov’s forces retreat, he will keep them occupied. Yes, here is good.”

  Landon glimpsed the forest and trees before he was spun around and slammed into a trunk. He let out a grunt of pain, which turned into a snarl of fear as ropes wound around his chest and waist. Opposite him and a few paces away, Myra was being fastened to an aspen. She sported a bruise on her right temple, and she had a small cut on her jaw. Landon could only guess what he looked like. The men stepped back, and Sayre and Darrin stepped into the space between Landon and Myra.

  “That’s better,” said Sayre, speaking for the first time. She moved closer to him until her pristine nose was inches from Landon’s. She had the same smell that haunted his nightmares: flowers with the underlying stench of poisons and blood. Her ice blue eyes glowed, and she had her blond hair pulled back into a bun. She wore the same metal-plated jerkins as the other Borikans, but rather than a sword, she had a mace-like flail with three small balls hanging from the handle. Each ball was covered with two-inch spikes.

  “Here is what we are going to do, Landon Dayn,” she said softly. “I will remove your gag and we will talk. If you yell or scream, however, then your lovely friend will be placed into these men’s care. Warfare has been long and hard, an
d they are starving for female companionship. Do I make myself clear?”

  Landon trembled. He couldn’t see Myra, but he could see the men crowding around her tree. They eyed her with blatant lust, and exclaimed loudly to his neighbor on her body. Their comments were interjected by harsh, barking laughter that made his skin crawl.

  “Why must the women of this country wear trousers? Skirts are much easier to work with.”

  “Do you think she’s a virgin?”

  Sayre snapped her fingers, reclaiming Landon’s attention. “I am waiting, Landon.”

  Tears pricking his eyes, Landon nodded. Sayre reached up and removed his gag. He coughed and licked his lips, but stayed quiet. Sayre stepped back, giving Landon a clear view of Myra. She held herself straight and tall, trying to appear undeterred by the men’s crude comments, but he could see her trembling. Her face was pale and terror glinted in her eyes. She made muffled cries through the gag, goading him to shout for help. Landon shook his head, motioning with his eyes at the gathered men.

  “First item of business,” said Darrin, and the men quieted. He turned and faced Landon, smiling as if about to begin a lesson. “Where is the Wizard’s Seal?”

  Terror was replaced by rage. Landon mustered a wad of saliva and spat at the samurai. It fell far short, but he felt better. “Go to hell!” he said, putting all his hatred into those words.

  Darrin raised an eyebrow. “Landon, as it is hard to believe, I really would like Myra to leave this area with her virginity intact.”

  “Liar!” Landon sneered. “You don’t care about her any more than you care about me.” His vision narrowed on Darrin, replaying every moment that he had been in the man’s company—from that first meeting outside of Town, to Eli pointing a crossbow into Darrin’s face, to a scolding in the rain, to the council . . . everything.

  “I trusted you,” Landon said, hatred boiling in his body and soul. “I trusted you with my life. I trusted you with my parents’ and my friends’ lives. We trusted you!”

  “And I appreciated your trust while it lasted,” Darrin said, nodding. He sounded sad, yet there was a sparkle to his eye that infuriated Landon. “Where is the Seal?”

  “My parents have it. They’re in the camp, safe and protected by hundreds of Nircanians who’ve been fighting off your stupid army for days.” It took all of Landon’s will and self-control to make those lies sound believable. He silently cursed the dragon–tamer bond for making it harder to fib.

  “You lie,” said Kennin in a cold voice. He stepped forward to stand beside his wife. Those dark eyes seared into Landon, reminding him of the power and cruelty the man possessed.

  Landon met his eyes, trying to be brave. “I don’t have it, Noble. My parents do. You have what? Forty men here?”

  “Sixty.”

  “S-sixty men?” Landon’s voice almost died from terror. “Sixty men against three hundred of my people? Good luck with that.”

  No one spoke, and everyone glared at Landon.

  “You know, Landon,” Kennin said, his voice almost like a purr. “Darrin was explaining to me as we were trekking our way here that you are a notorious liar. Apparently, you and your friend here,” he motioned to Myra, “conned your way out of trouble in your school years, and it was for this reason that you left Tsuregi when you weren’t supposed to. We were very disappointed that you would destroy the treaty we all worked so hard to create.”

  “That treaty wouldn’t have lasted a day,” Landon retorted, anger fueling his tongue. “Darrin’s a Seer! And I bet you every scrap of holy thing on this earth that he would have never come forward about it!”

  His words rang in the air, competing with the thunder from the waterfall. He glared at every eye he could see, coming at last to Darrin. The Samurai Master’s face was stony and devoid of thoughts or emotion. No one spoke for several seconds and then Sayre threw her head back and laughed.

  “Oh, Landon. Were you hoping that would save you and Myra? Yes,” she smiled as both Landon and Myra started, “I know her name. All thanks to Master Darrin Foran, advisor to King Hiro Katsunaka of Tsuregi, and descendant of the Wizardress Oliva.”

  Myra whimpered. Landon’s mouth had gone completely dry. “H-h-how do you know?”

  “I told her,” Darrin said, fingering his hilt. “A few days after we had massed in front of these mountains, one of our spies overheard Sayre having a vision. She saw you sitting by a waterfall. I also had been having that same vision off and on for a week. The king and I discussed it for days before deciding it was best to extend a truce to the Drakshus.” He smiled, though it held the same predatory sneer as the Drakshus. “How do you know I am a Seer, Landon? Did Juan discover my secret and tell you?”

  Landon didn’t want to tell him, but he needed to stall. Almighty, send someone, please! For once, he allowed the bond to aid him in speaking the truth. “I told him. Myra and I saw you have a vision. We were hiding, and you had a vision of me in a burning room. But how are you descended from a wizardress?” he added quickly. “I thought they made sure they never got pregnant.”

  Darrin smirked. “I know you are stalling, Landon, and I will entertain your question because the answer is not as long as you would hope. It was around the time when the power began to fade. Not knowing about Kaktov’s Seer children, Wizardress Oliva bore a child hoping it would have the power. Unlike Sayre’s ancestor, however, her daughter kept the visions a secret, believing them nothing more than dreams.

  “It wasn’t until Oliva’s death, when Kaktov took her and her children as his own slaves, that she realized her dreams were something more. It was through interacting with Kaktov’s enslaved children, and witnessing Kaktov’s interrogation of Kristovan, that they realized how much power they had once they obtained the Wizard’s Seal.”

  “And here you are,” Landon said quietly. He felt sick with dread.

  “Here I am.” Darrin gestured around the clearing. “You say my vision was of you in a burning room. That vision crops up every so often. Have you found yourself in one?”

  “No,” Landon blurted. “We’ve been avoiding structures of any kind.”

  This earned a round of laughter from the samurai. Out of view, Landon heard a man say, “As if you can avoid the future! Ha!” Even though it had been weeks since Landon had spoken with Sairen, he recognized his voice instantly.

  Darrin softly chuckled. “I am sure you have. Who else knows?”

  “My parents and all my people including . . .” Landon caught himself before he said Liliana and Ti’Luthin’s name, “including the wild dragon who was hunting me.”

  “And where is this dragon right now?”

  “I don’t know,” Landon admitted, and then mentally braced himself to lie. “He followed me here, but we drove him off. I haven’t seen him since.”

  He hadn’t even finished his sentence when the Borikans, samurai, and Seers began chortling and shaking their heads. They seemed amused by his story. Panicked, Landon cried, “It’s the truth!”

  “We know for a fact that it is not,” said Sayre. “My son—who is ensuring that we are alone at the moment—had a vision of you and that murderous dragon sitting together and talking. We would have been wandering along these mountains for months if it were not for his vision. That allowed us to find you.”

  Landon felt winded. His fear-ridden brain slowly turned over Sayre’s words, putting together the pieces of the puzzle. He looked at Myra, seeing the same realization in her terrified eyes.

  “That’s right,” said Darrin. “The dragon led us to you. King Berado and his men witnessed the wild dragon fly into a pass, then into this Nircanian camp. When the dragon didn’t reappear, we knew he had found you. We would have come sooner, but we did not want the other nations to know that we had joined forces.”

  “They would not forgive our truce unless we had the Seal,” said Kennin. He withdrew a long dagger and fiddled with the bright edge. “Which brings me back to my previous question: Where is the Wizard’s Seal, Day
n? Quickly now if you want this delicious woman behind me to remain untouched.”

  Landon’s heart was pounding so hard it hurt. “I told you,” he said, putting all his desperation into his voice. “It’s with—”

  “Mother! I have it!”

  Landon started, as did everyone in the group. His heart rate increased as the speaker pushed his way through the crowd. Samurai and Borikans parted, and Niklas Drakshu stepped into view. He stopped and held up his hand.

  Niklas held the pouch Landon had thrown into the trees, but he had it folded in his hand, empty. There, clenched by one corner of the pouch, plain for all to see, was the Wizard’s Seal. The silver and reddish-gold loops glittered like light on water, and a collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Every eye was fastened on the amulet in Niklas’ hand. After centuries of searching, a Seer finally had the Wizard’s Seal and a descendant of Thirien Keene.

  Landon’s knees shook. He began to silently pray harder than ever. Myra’s eyes were fastened on the Seal, her face deathly white.

  “I stepped on something warm as I was making my way here,” Niklas explained, striding forward with the Seal still raised. “I thought it was a pile of dung, but when I looked down I found a little pouch on the ground. I opened it to find this!” He flourished the Seal, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “It was lying among the bushes, as if someone threw it away.”

  Kennin turned to Landon, smirking. “Did you throw it away, Dayn?”

  Landon didn’t know what to say to that except, “Go to hell!”

  “You have developed quite the mouth, Landon,” Sayre noted. “I do not remember you being quite so vulgar. Zakrem, your hunting rag, please.”

  A Borikan darted forward and offered a bloodstained cloth. Sayre took it, cradling it in her hands, and held it out to her son, almost supplicating. Niklas gladly placed the Seal on the cloth. Sayre shuddered, closed her eyes, and smiled. “At last . . . Ha ha! It is trying to burn me!”

  “Amazing,” Darrin breathed. His eyes shone with greed. “Look at the workmanship!”