Read Dragon and Phoenix Online
Authors: Joanne Bertin
Dragon and Phoenix (3 page)
“All seemed well, but one day on the journey Linden wanted to show me something from the air. It was to be a short flight, nothing difficult—and that’s when it happened. I couldn’t Change again.”
Maurynna swallowed against the memory; even remembering that pain made her queasy. “Not that time, not the other few times I’ve had the courage to try. It’s never happened before in anyone’s memory, and there’s no mention of such a thing in any of the records. Both the Lady of Dragonskeep and her soultwin Kelder, as well as the two archivists, Jenna and Lukai, all of the
kir
recorders, Linden and I have spent candlemarks searching them. I keep hoping there’s an answer … .”
kir
recorders, Linden and I have spent candlemarks searching them. I keep hoping there’s an answer … .”
“I’m sorry for that,” Raven said. “Truly sorry.” Then, “You and … Linden Rathan …”
The pain was back in his voice. Maurynna suddenly understood. “Raven—did you … did you think that we would … ?”
He turned bright red. “Um, ah—yes. I did. We got along so well, you see. And we always made up after a fight. We wouldn’t have to get used to another person’s ways, either of us.”
“Raven, you don’t really consider
that
a good reason to get married, do you?” The thought boggled her. She had certainly never felt that way.
that
a good reason to get married, do you?” The thought boggled her. She had certainly never felt that way.
Raven said, “It’s better than some.”
She had to admit that he was right; indeed, it was a better reason than many she’d heard.
But it still wasn’t enough.
“It seemed so simple. We’ve always been comfortable together,” he finished plaintively.
If she’d had something to hand, she would have thrown it. Marry her because she was comfortable, like a pair of old boots? Because it was the easy way out? She considered hitting him but remembered her new strength in time. “What!”
From the corner of her eye she could see heads turning to look. She didn’t care. “Oh, for—! Raven, yes, I love you, you idiot, but as a friend.” She relented at the hurt in his eyes. More gently she said, “Don’t you see? We
would never have had a chance. Even if we had married, I would’ve had to leave you once I’d Changed the first time. Try to understand; I don’t just love Linden. He’s part of me—literally. That’s what being a soultwin means. I would have had to go to him no matter what.”
would never have had a chance. Even if we had married, I would’ve had to leave you once I’d Changed the first time. Try to understand; I don’t just love Linden. He’s part of me—literally. That’s what being a soultwin means. I would have had to go to him no matter what.”
He nodded. His voice shook when he spoke. “I’m trying … to, to understand. I do here,” he touched his forehead. He continued, “But I’m having trouble here,” and laid a hand over his heart. “I’d always thought we’d marry, then go to my aunt in Yerrih. You know she wants me to help her raise and train her horses.”
The words shocked Maurynna. Not his plans; she’d known about
his
plans for years. But she’d never known of his plans for
her.
his
plans for years. But she’d never known of his plans for
her.
Feeling the walls of the Keep closing in, she got slowly to her feet. Suddenly there wasn’t enough air to breathe. “You thought I would give up the sea so easily? That I could?”
She couldn’t believe it. Raven of all people should know what having her own ship meant to her. He had dreams as well. “Hang it all! Don’t any of you understand?”
Maurynna bolted from the alcove and out of the great hall. Through the halls of the great Keep she ran, ignoring those who called to her, running like a deer from the hounds, running from those who wanted to bury her alive.
It was silly and childish—she knew that. But neither could she sit still any longer. She’d suffocate.
One of the postern doors was open to the fresh morning air. Maurynna went through it like a bolt of lightning looking for a target.
She didn’t stop until she reached the paddocks behind the Llysanyins’ stable. A leap that she wouldn’t have even considered trying a few short months ago carried her over the fence to her Llysanyin stallion’s yard. She landed, nearly lost her balance, but caught herself before she sprawled facedown in the dirt.
Boreal trotted to her, snorting concern over his person’s agitation. Maurynna buried her face in his mane and wrapped her arms around the dappled grey neck, fighting back tears of frustration and anger.
I can’t be a proper Dragonlord, I can’t be a ship’s captain at all, and everyone wants to either wrap me in wool like some glass bauble or drag me off to fulfill their dreams. Damn it, it’s not fair!
Boreal draped his head over her shoulder and pulled her closer. Encouraged by the intelligent animal’s sympathy, she drew breath to recite her list of grievances.
With my luck, the horse will be the only one who understands.
The sudden thought made her break into a wry, hiccuping laugh.
The sudden thought made her break into a wry, hiccuping laugh.
“Thank the gods,” a lilting—if ironic—voice said behind her, “you’re not crying after all. I had wondered about that from the way you fell on Boreal’s
neck. For alas and alack, little one, you’re a wee bit large for me to cuddle on my lap for comforting.”
neck. For alas and alack, little one, you’re a wee bit large for me to cuddle on my lap for comforting.”
Raven hunched miserably on the bench and stared at the stone floor. He’d well and truly made a mess of it. He hadn’t thought Maurynna would take it like that.
The worst of it was that he wasn’t quite certain what he’d said wrong.
The arrival of two figures at the entrance to the alcove caught his attention. One was a silent Linden Rathan; the big Dragonlord’s face was unreadable. The other was his great-uncle, Bard Otter Heronson. And he was anything but silent, blast him.
“You always did have a way with words, lad,” his kinsman said cheerfully.
Raven reminded himself of the penalties for wringing a bard’s neck. Then he reminded himself of the penalties for helping a kinsman out of this life. It was barely enough. “Thank you,” he snapped.
“Did you really come all this way just to fight with Rynna once more?” Otter asked, all wide-eyed innocence.
“No,” Raven said. “No, I didn’t, curse you.” Then, remembering the reason he’d journeyed here, he bit his lip in worry. Looking once more to Linden Rathan, Raven said, “Dragonlord, I came here as an escort. The man I guided claims that a truedragon is held captive in Jehanglan!”
“What?”
Otter exclaimed. He shook his head. “Boy, you missed your calling—you should have been a bard!”
Otter exclaimed. He shook his head. “Boy, you missed your calling—you should have been a bard!”
Linden Rathan’s eyes went wide. “A truedragon? That’s impossible.”
Raven shook his head. “No, Dragonlord. It’s true. My word on it. There’s a truedragon prisoner in Jehanglan—and they’re destroying it.”
It was not often that the full
Saethe
—the Dragonlords’ Council—met in such haste and need. But the few words the Lady had had last night with this stranger had prompted her to call this gathering, and to send her soultwin Kelder winging north.
Saethe
—the Dragonlords’ Council—met in such haste and need. But the few words the Lady had had last night with this stranger had prompted her to call this gathering, and to send her soultwin Kelder winging north.
The members of the
Saethe
filed into the Council chamber. As each entered, they looked curiously at the one seated to the Lady’s left. She knew what they saw—a man obviously ill, his hair hanging lank around the parchment-colored skin of his face, a heavy shawl wrapped around bowed shoulders—and wondered what her fellow Dragonlords thought, what rumors were flying about.
Saethe
filed into the Council chamber. As each entered, they looked curiously at the one seated to the Lady’s left. She knew what they saw—a man obviously ill, his hair hanging lank around the parchment-colored skin of his face, a heavy shawl wrapped around bowed shoulders—and wondered what her fellow Dragonlords thought, what rumors were flying about.
When all were present, the Lady stood and said, “This is Taren Olmeins, a Kelnethi who was shipwrecked in Jehanglan. He has been a slave there these past thirty or so years. But recently he learned something that prompted him to a desperate move: to escape Jehanglan and bring us word of a great wrong done there.”
She waited for the murmurs to die down. Good: judging by the surprise in faces and voices both; there had not been many rumors—yet. She found herself wondering what a certain small Dragonlord might have heard.
“And what is this wrong?” asked Kyralin Sanraelle.
“Taren, I think it best if you tell them yourself,” the Lady said.
Taren bowed his head and, using the arms of the chair, pushed himself up. For a moment the Lady feared the effort would be too much for him. She stretched out a hand to stay him.
He turned a smile of dazzling sweetness upon her. “Nay, Lady, do not worry about me. This illness and I are very old enemies. It is but a weakness that will be soon made well by seeing justice done.”
A murmur of approval ran around the table at Taren’s gallant words. The Lady saw the members of the
Saethe
lean forward to catch this unlikely hero’s tale.
Saethe
lean forward to catch this unlikely hero’s tale.
“As your Lady has already told you, my lords and ladies, I was shipwrecked in Jehanglan many years ago, and taken as a slave. It was a hard life and cruel, for my master was not a gentle man, but I didn’t dare the Straits of Cansunn—what the Jehangli call the Gate of the Phoenix—once more. For though life may be hard, it’s still sweet, and I feared that I would not pass those waters a second time and live.
“So I lived my life as content as I could be, acting as an overseer of one of the salt mines my master was in charge of for the imperial court. For, you see, all salt there belongs to the Phoenix Emperor. Those mines are a favorite place to send those who have somehow offended the throne. Those so punished often don’t live long; the labor is hard.
“So it was that one day a renegade priest came to work the mines. Because he was both learned and old, I begged for him to work under me as a clerk. To my surprise, my request was granted. We became good friends and Taorun told me many things I never knew before—such as the true source of the power behind the Phoenix Throne.”
Taren paused and wiped his brow with a trembling hand. The Lady signaled her personal servant, Sirl, the only one allowed in this meeting. The
kir
brought forth a goblet of rich Pelnaran wine already poured against such need. He offered it to Taren with a bow. Taren whispered a barely audible “My thanks” and sipped.
kir
brought forth a goblet of rich Pelnaran wine already poured against such need. He offered it to Taren with a bow. Taren whispered a barely audible “My thanks” and sipped.
A faint trace of color came to his cheeks. Taren drank again and went on, his voice a little stronger, “Your Graces, have you ever heard of the Jehangli phoenix? It is said to be a giant bird, more beautiful than the dawn, that lives for a thousand years. When those thousand years are past, the phoenix builds a great fire upon Mount Rivasha and casts itself within. There it is consumed by the flames and is destroyed—or so it seems. For from the ashes of the old, there rises a new, young phoenix.
“Taorun told me that, a little more than a thousand years ago, one of the Jehangli Oracles—children who have a gift of true prophecy—told a Jehangli noble how he might found a dynasty to last for all time. For there is a short span of time, before its feathers have hardened enough for flight, that a young phoenix might be captured if one has power enough.
“Taorun wouldn’t tell me all, for he still held to the deepest of his oaths, but that noble did capture a young phoenix, and thence became emperor. The anchor of that prison of magic was a fell beast, Taorun said, a creature of nightmare. He had seen it once, and feared to speak of it. But I was curious, and one night, I admit, I plied him with rice wine to loosen his tongue. At last he described the ‘horrible monster’ chained beneath the Iron Temple of Mount Kajhenral.
“My lords and ladies, can you imagine my horror when I realized he spoke of a northern dragon? He didn’t know what it was, for there are no dragons in Jehanglan. And worse yet …”
Taren stopped, biting his lip, as if what he would say next was too painful. Silence filled the room. At last he drew a shuddering breath and went on in a whisper, “I said nothing of this to the young man who brought me here, for I feared it would upset him too much. His friend, you see, is a Dragonlord.
“But Taorun also told me that in the oldest records, there were reports that the creature had been seen to change from man to dragon!”
Silence turned to uproar.
One arm still about Boreal’s neck, Maurynna looked around, laughing in truth now. While “little one” was the traditional endearment for the youngest Dragonlord—which she was—its use by this particular weredragon was always a delightful absurdity.
Lleld Kemberaene perched on the fence like some red-capped bird, eyeing her with exaggerated innocence. “Ah. That’s much better. Yes, it would look silly, wouldn’t it? All of you trying to fit into my lap.”
The tiny Dragonlord stood up on the top rail and walked along it as easily as if she walked the road leading to the Keep. She sprang into the air, somersaulted, then landed in the paddock and stretched to her full height, roughly that of a ten-year-old child—a somewhat undersized ten-year-old.
Maurynna applauded; Boreal stamped a foot and snorted in appreciation.
“Thank you, Your Grace, and noble Llysanyin steed,” Lleld said, bowing with a flourish.
Maurynna knew that before Lleld had Changed for the first time, the other Dragonlord had been a tumbler and a juggler in a band of traveling entertainers. “You’ve lost none of your old skills, have you?” she asked with a touch of envy, remembering her own awkward landing. Would she herself be so lucky, or would she forget how to read wind and wave if immured in Dragonskeep
for too long? A sudden need to hear the crying of gulls shook Maurynna to her soul. Her breath caught in her chest once more.
for too long? A sudden need to hear the crying of gulls shook Maurynna to her soul. Her breath caught in her chest once more.
“No, I haven’t forgotten,” Lleld said. “Too useful when traveling as a truehuman.” She tossed back her mane of fiery red hair. “Is Linden being an ass again?” the tiny Dragonlord demanded, hands on hips.
Maurynna swallowed against the lump in her throat and half smiled. “That’s not entirely his fault, Lleld, and you know it. Though I do wish he would argue with the Lady on my behalf; she won’t listen to me.
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