In the Shadow of the Dragon King (12 page)

Twiller held his arms straight out to his sides and muttered a few words that sounded like German pig Latin. David’s mouth dropped open as vines and roots slithered upon the ground and then raised upward, weaving and twining together until they formed an arched door strewn with leaves and moss. A baseball-sized knot in the wood served as a knob. Twiller pushed on the door and gestured toward the opening. “After you, Master David.”

David glared through the passageway to the other side, which looked no different from where they were. He scratched his nose. “Umm, where does this go?”

Twiller smiled. “Where else? Your final destination.”

***

David’s breath hitched as he fell through a split second of cold, dark isolation. He emerged flat on his back, looking up at four stone warriors the size of two-story buildings, their swords raised and crossed, forming an archway over a path. Their human faces stared straight ahead, determined and unwavering. Enormous bat-like wings tipped in feathers arched from their shoulders to the ground.

David clambered to his feet and gulped. “W-what are those?”

“Ancient warriors, frozen in time,” Twiller scurried ahead, leaves and twigs crunching beneath his feet.

“Frozen? You mean these things once roamed around like we do?” David marveled at one of the giant feet, part human, and part talon.

Twiller nodded. “They are Grids, warriors of the gods, brought forth by the great mage master during the last Dragon War. When the war was over, he hid them here, just in case.”

“Just in case what?” David asked. “You mean, like if there’s another war? And did you just say
Dragon War
?”

Twiller nodded. “That I did. I attest, you must get your hearing checked. Come, come. We’re almost there.”

David’s brain flip-flopped. There was no way Twiller could be telling the truth. But then how could he explain the crazy weirdness around him? His head hurt just thinking about it.

Feelings of insignificance rushed through him as they walked the passageway between the Grids and into a dense part of the forest where trees seemed to swaddle them in a dark, spiritual cocoon. They soon came to a wide, arched, stone bridge and paused for a moment, taking in the roar of a cool waterfall cascading into a cerulean-blue pool. Spongy moss carpeted the ground. Boulders, like giant turtles, poked their smooth backs from the pool’s depths.

Overhead, a flock of winged creatures, golden in color and double the size of an eagle, chortled as they glided from tree to tree.

“More dragons?” David said.

Twiller nodded. “Palindrakes. Messengers of the forest. You nearly crushed an infant earlier. Those are adults.”

The path ahead narrowed into a tunnel of vines and flowers, the trunks and branches braided so tight, their lavender blooms so thick, no light penetrated. David’s stomach lurched at the scent. Wisteria. Lily had it everywhere back home, its sweet, intoxicating aroma almost nauseating.

David ducked as he followed Twiller inside. “I can’t see a thing.”

“The moon faeries prefer it that way.”

“The who?”

His breath caught as hundreds of small, winged humans, no bigger than David’s thumb, glimmered upon the woven branches. He peered closer. “Whoa! This is insane. May I hold one?”

“Not if you wish to retain your appendages.”

David yanked back his finger and scurried forward, bumping into Twiller, who stood with his palms on a round, wooden door etched with strange writing. A latch gave way, and the door swung open into a cavernous room. Thousands of butterflies took flight in his gut.

Multiple levels of crystal walkways glimmered against slate-gray walls where thousands of books and parchments lay within niches. Hundreds of fiery orbs hovered in the air, casting the room in a warm, golden glow. Below, a wooden schooner, at least a football field long and half as tall—the name WindSong II etched on its bow—floated in a lake of sky-blue water, small waves slapping against its hull. Five masts, their sails furled, rose toward the vast ceiling flecked with twinkling stars.

David took deep breaths as he descended the crystalline ramp. Never had he seen anything so weird and wonderful. He clutched the smooth glass banister, terrified of missing a step. No sooner had he set foot on the deck of the ship than long, slender arms flew around his neck, almost knocking him over.

“David? Oh my God!”

The warmth of a thousand lifetimes engulfed him.

Charlotte kissed his neck, his cheeks, before squeezing him in a giant hug.

David wrapped his arms around her waist, his face and hands buried in her hair. Relief oozed out of him like jelly from a donut.

“Char,” he whispered, pulling her closer. The urge to kiss her, devour her, tuck her away so no one would ever steal her away again, took over. No matter how close he held her, he couldn’t get close enough.

“Where have you been?” She spoke into his chest. “I’ve been so worried about you. They kept telling me you’d be here soon, but it’s been hours.” She looked up at him, her fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

His heart faltered at her warmth, her touch, a tingling reaction spreading throughout his body.
Get it together, David. Friends. Just friends. Don’t eff it up.
He licked his lips, now as dry as a desert bed. “Twiller and I took the scenic route. I’ll explain later.” He pushed his need to kiss her aside and stroked her cheek. “Are you okay?”

Charlotte nodded. “I’m fine, although I’ll never travel Air Warp Speed again. It made me sick to my stomach.” She touched his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I am now, but I am so weirded out. Did you know we’re in Fallhollow?”

“Yeah, Slavandria told me.”

“Who?” David ran his hand over the smooth, wood mast.

“That would be me.”

David gulped at the tall woman who appeared out of nowhere. She walked toward him with an air of confidence and purpose, her shimmering white gown rustling along the planked floor. A smile touched her face as she brushed back waves of lavender hair that flowed over her golden skin to her bare feet. Her slanted turquoise eyes narrowed and shone impossibly perfect, yet frightening at the same time.

“Hello, David. My name is Slavandria. Welcome to my home. Welcome to Chalisdawn.”

David forgot to breathe for a moment, and his heart hammered against his ribs. “H-hi.”

The elegant woman motioned to four overstuffed chairs that hadn’t been there moments before and took a seat. “Pease, sit down. We have much to discuss.”

David stood rooted to his spot, unable to peel his gaze away from the woman.

“Hey.” Charlotte nudged. Her voice hovered near a whisper. “I appreciate beauty as much as the next person, but can you stop gawking? It’s embarrassing.”

He nodded and broke his gaze. “I’m sorry. It’s just she looks so much like—”

“Like Lily, yes, I know. I thought the same thing when I first saw her, but trust me, she doesn’t sound or act anything like Lily.” She clasped his hand in hers and guided him to the chairs.

David stared down at Slavandria, the nerves twisting his gut into knots. “I-I’m sorry,” he said, his gaze flitting around the room, looking at everything but his host. “I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just you remind me so much of my godmother.”

Slavandria smiled. “As well I should. She is my younger sister.”

David’s lungs deflated. He put his hand out to the mast to steady himself.

Charlotte patted the cushion beside her and pleaded with him to sit. He gripped the edges of the chair to keep from falling to the ground and eased into the seat.

“I-I don’t understand,” he said. “Lily never mentioned a sister.”

“There are many things she never mentioned, David, things neither of us ever wanted you to find out. Unfortunately, our father sees things differently and felt it was time for you to be educated.”

“W-what do you mean, educated?”

“My father feels it is time for you to know who you are and why you’re here, but before I enlighten you, I’d like to introduce you to someone. He will be overseeing you and Charlotte during your stay in Fallhollow.” Slavandria called Twiller to her side. He’d been standing near the gangway, his hands clasped behind his back, waiting. She whispered something in his ear, and the little man disappeared below deck.

David turned the ring on his finger as his garbled mind worked to sort out the unbelievable mess going on inside. After a few moments, heavy booted footsteps sounded behind him. He turned as Twiller emerged from below deck followed by …
the Renaissance dude from the library?

The man was bigger than David remembered, huge, with a square, angular jaw, piercing, aquamarine eyes, and shoulders so wide they barely fit through the doorframe. He wore an outward expression that said don’t mess with me. Beneath it
,
he wore another almost humorous one that said, come on, I dare you
.

Slavandria gestured to the human tank. “David, this is Mangus Grythorn. Mangus this is David Heiland and his dear friend, Charlotte Stine.”

David stood and locked stares with Mangus. The man circled him, rubbing his chin as if in deep thought. A chill crept down David’s neck, and he swallowed with difficulty, certain the man could eliminate him with a whisper if he wanted to. He steadied his nerves. “What are you doing?”

Mangus ceased pacing, his gaze pinned to David’s face. “So you’re the one. He’s a little scrawny, don’t you think, Van?”

“Nothing you can’t remedy, Mangus,” Slavandria said with a teasing smile.

The man narrowed his eyes and laid a hand on David’s shoulder, the weight of it like a boulder. “Tell me, young man, do you always eavesdrop on conversations that don’t pertain to you?”

David sputtered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The man furrowed his brow. “The library? You were there, weren’t you? Upstairs?”

A flush crept up David’s neck and into his cheeks. He’d been so careful. So quiet. “H-how did you know?”

Mangus chuckled and released his grip. “I didn’t, until now.”

David gazed at him, openmouthed. “What? You mean you tricked me?”

“I gathered information, and you tilted when you should have withdrawn.”

David swallowed the cotton lump in his throat, unsure at what angered him the most: being suckered into revealing a secret or not seeing the trap coming.

“Don’t look so dejected,” Mangus said. “You learned a valuable lesson just now. In the future, when prodded, keep your mouth shut. Never admit or deny anything. Understood? Good. Now, how are you with a sword?”

“Swords?”

Mangus turned to Slavandria. “Is there an issue with his hearing?”

Twiller chuckled.

David spoke. “No, there’s nothing wrong with my hearing. The question caught me off guard.”

“Well?” Mangus peered at him, his blue eyes penetrating David’s core. “Can you use a sword or not?”

“I-I don’t know. I-I’ve never tried. Not much call for them where we come from.”

“You can say that again,” Charlotte snorted, her arms crossed over her chest. “We use bombs instead. Why kill one when you can kill a hundred at once? Boom! Nothing left other than a bunch of mangled body parts to send home in a box.”

David winced. Charlotte never talked of her brother’s death or that his plane was shot down halfway across the world. He shifted his stance. “Charlotte, I don’t think now is the time—”

“It’s never the time, is it, David?” Charlotte snapped. “Ever since Daniel died, you’ve been tiptoeing around me, not wanting to talk about what killed him.” Charlotte stood, and pulled her hair into a ponytail, and tied it into a knot. “Don’t you see what’s happening? This man is talking to you about fighting with swords, and you’re not even questioning why? How dense can you get?” Charlotte turned on Mangus, one hand on her hip. “And you. I see what you’re doing, and you can forget it. I already lost my brother to one stupid war that wasn’t his to fight. I’m not going to lose my best friend to another one.”

Mangus inhaled sharply and narrowed his eyes. “Young lady—” His voice had a dangerous barbed edge.

David stepped in front of Charlotte. “Leave her alone.”

Mangus pushed David out of the way. “Stay out of this, boy. This is between this saucy lass and me.”

Slavandria touched the man’s arm. “Mangus. Stop. Be nice. They don’t understa—”

The word froze in her throat. She clutched her chest, folded in two, and collapsed in Mangus’ arms.

He guided her to a chair. “Van, what is it? What’s happened? What do you see?” He caressed her cheek and brushed the hair from her face. Worry lines creased his brow.

She glanced up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Oh, Mangus. It’s happened. A tear, followed by another, trickled down her cheek. “Gyllen castle has been attacked. So many are dead.” She gripped his arms. “I have to go, Mangus. They need me.” She turned to Twiller, who stood beside her, his face contorted with concern. “Escort our guests to their quarters at once. Go. Waste not a minute. Mangus, stay here and keep them safe. Protect them with your life.” She wiped her cheek and stood. With a flick of her wrist, a green velvet cloak appeared out of nowhere.

Mangus held her shoulders. “With all due respect, my lady, you aren’t going anywhere.”

“I have to, Mangus. Don’t you understand? Everything I feared has come to pass. The vision was there for just a moment, but it’s gone again, hidden by a shime weave. I’m certain of it. They’ve woven it so tight it is impenetrable by my magic. I have no choice but to go.”

“You have no choice but to stay. You are the only one who can protect these children. They are your priority, now. They need your protection as only the protector of the realm can give them. My skills would be better service to the people of Hirth.”

“But—”

“This is not open for discussion.”

“Mangus, please. At least let me speak with the Council, beg their intervention.”

“Do you think they will rush to your aid? Unless the order to intervene comes from Jared, they are bound by our laws, as are you, to remain neutral.”

“I can’t stand here and do nothing!”