Master of Dragons (10 page)

“You need to
sleep. Of course,” said Evelina briskly. “Go ahead. You sleep and I’ll keep
watch.”

“You don’t mind?”

She shook her
head. “I only wish I could do more.”

Marcus drew near
Evelina and kissed her on the cheek.

“Thank you,” he
said.

Evelina blushed
and lowered her eyes. Marcus lay down as best he could in the bottom of the
boat. Evelina fussed over him, making a pillow of another blanket for his head
and helping him to find the most comfortable of uncomfortable positions.
Closing his eyes, Marcus gave himself to the rocking motion of the boat.

The confusion one
feels as the mind sinks slowly into sleep stole over him, so that he was rowing
again, and then he had no oars, but he was still rowing, and the boat slid into
darkness . . .

Evelina put her
hand to her cheek. She could still feel Marcus’s kiss, as though it had burned
her like the hot irons they used to brand the mark of shame on prostitutes.
Evelina was pleased with herself. She had recovered in a few moments all the
ground she’d lost with Marcus during the trip.

She sat with her
chin in her hands, thinking back to their conversation. He’d been pleased when
she’d told him she wasn’t afraid of the magic. Well, she thought, why should
she be afraid of it? She didn’t believe it. Any of it.

“Seeing is
believing” the old saw went, except that it wasn’t.

Evelina had known
the truth of that from the time she was a very small girl and she’d watch her father
swindle the gullible with a bean under a walnut shell.
See the bean? I’ll
put the shell over it. Three shells. The bean’s under one of them. See it? Yes,
there it is. Now, I’ll just switch the shells around. Are you following the one
with the bean under it? Yes, sir, I can see that you are. You are a man of
perception, sir. Now, I’ll bet you money, sir, that you can’t tell me which
shell the bean is under. Of course, I’ll lose, you being so very perceptive,
sir, but it’s an honor playing with someone so keen-sighted. That shell, sir?
Are you sure, sir? Well, well, well . . . I guess you weren’t watching so
closely after all, sir. You owe me .. .

Of course, the
secret was that the bean wasn’t under any of the shells. Ramone had palmed the
bean before the game started and slipped it back before it ended, sliding it
under one of the walnut shells as he lifted it to shift it about. A trick to
fool the gullible. Nothing wrong with it. All men and women were tricksters and
liars. One had to be to survive—even Marcus, a prince, the man Evelina loved as
she’d never loved anyone else in her short life (with the exception of
Evelina). She had no illusions about him.

Evelina had seen
all manner of fantastic things in Dragonkeep: a monk with hands made of blazing
fire, snow falling on a warm day in the morning sunshine, Marcus bringing down
a building by pointing at it. She’d seen herself walk through a solid stone
wall. Wonderful tricks, all of them. She could make a fortune with such fakery
by taking it on the road like that poor sod, Glimmershanks. She’d didn’t know
how the tricks were done, but that didn’t matter. Before Ramone had taught her
the secret of the shell game, she’d thought the bean had really vanished.

Evelina didn’t
know or care how Marcus’s tricks worked. She was determined to win this game of
love, and if this meant that she had to pretend to believe the bean
disappeared, it was a small price to pay for the jewels and the castle and her
son being an abbot.

“He can lie to me
about magic all he wants,” murmured Evelina, gazing at Marcus fondly as he lay
sleeping at her feet. “Just as long as he lies
with
me.”

Her little joke
amused her for all of several seconds and then she yawned and slapped irritably
at a mosquito and looked around at the river, which held nothing new for her,
and at the trees, and there was nothing interesting about them either. She
heaved an audible sigh and glanced at Marcus, half hoping he’d hear her and
wake up.

He didn’t stir,
and she realized he was ‘deep in slumber.

“After all, he
needs his rest,” she reflected. “If he’s going to get us safely through that
horrible .cave. Why do we have to go that way anyhow? There are lots of other
routes we can take to his home. His home. His castle. I wonder how many rooms
it has. Dozens, probably. And food that goes on forever. Peacock tongues and
suckling pig and wine from golden goblets and servants to wait on me and
sweetmeats and sugared almonds and why, why, why did I have to think about
food?”

Her stomach
grumbled. Evelina tried to recall when she’d last eaten. She remembered Ven
bringing food to her and she remembered flinging it to the floor in a fit of
temper. Henceforth, she resolved, she would make certain she ate first before
she flew into a rage.

And then all she
could think about was being hungry. Evelina had been hungry before in her life;
very hungry, sometimes, when one of her father’s schemes had failed to produce
any income. She looked again at Marcus. Bending over him, greatly daring,
because the boat rocked alarmingly whenever she moved, she kissed him on the
mouth. She let her tongue slide over his lips and was gratified to feel his
lips move, ever so slightly, in response.

Evelina sighed and
sat back, her blood tingling. Wrapping herself in her blanket, she gave herself
up to tantalizing daydreams of their lovemaking. When even that grew boring,
she yawned and yawned again and again after that. Her eyelids drooped. She slid
into sleep and then sat up with a start.

“I said I’d keep
watch,” she reminded herself. “But I’m so tired. No one is coming for us. We’re
safe enough-. It’s not fair that he gets to sleep and I don’t. I’ll just shut
my eyes a moment.”

Having absolved
herself from blame, Evelina closed her eyes and drifted into sweet slumber.

Thus it was that
the dragon found them.

Fortunately for
them, the dragon was Lysira.

Draconas had
provided Lysira with directions to the hidden city of Dragonkeep. She couldn’t
see it, though she looked hard for it. She did see the boats of the monks
drifting down the river, however— evidence of human habitation. He’d warned her
against flying too low, a warning she ignored, for she had to fly low in order
to investigate. The humans weren’t in any of the boats heading downstream.
Draconas thought they would be traveling the other direction, and he proved to
be right.

Lysira spotted the
two between a gap in the trees. Their warm human bodies glowed softly in the
night.

“Your humans are
not very intelligent,” she reported to Draconas. “Surrounded by their foes,
they are both sound asleep.”

“Are they
surrounded?” Draconas asked, alarmed.

“No,” Lysira
returned. “But, according to what you said, they could be.”

“Have you seen any
sign of other dragons?”

“None.”

“Grald could still
be hiding in the cave waiting for them,” Draconas said more to himself than to
her. “Are you keeping your distance?”

“Yes, Draconas,”
returned Lysira, her colors sharp-edged with annoyance. “I am not a fledgling.”

The truth was,
Lysira had decided to satisfy her curiosity about the humans. Draping herself
in a simple illusion to make herself invisible, she descended from her lofty
vantage point in slow, lazy circles. She kept watch as she drifted downward on
her strong wings, but saw nothing to give her concern. Animals prowled the
forest, birds flitted about the skies. They could not see her, and so the fox
continued his rabbit-hunt and the nightjar her bug-catching without raising the
alarm.

Lysira hovered
above the tops of the trees and gazed down curiously on the two creatures in
the boat.

Sleeping, all
humans look as innocent and harmless as nestlings. And they were so fragile and
vulnerable. Their bodies soft and unprotected, their soft mouths with tiny
teeth, and talons with weak little claws. No wings to carry them out of harm’s
way. No fire rumbling in their bellies to scorch their enemies.

It was a wonder
they had survived thus far. She could understand why they had to rely on
terrible machines. So weak. So pitiably weak.

“What if Grald is
waiting for them in the cave, Draconas?” Lysira asked. “What am I to do?”

“Nothing. You
cannot fight Grald. It would be madness to try. He very nearly bested me in
battle,” Draconas admonished sharply. “You would have no chance against him.”

“And your humans?
What chance do they have?” Lysira demanded.

“More than you
might think. No matter what happens, you must stay out of it. Not just for your
own sake, but for the sake of our people. You are my only link with the other
dragons now, Lysira. We must keep your involvement secret. Promise me you will
not interfere if there is trouble. Promise.”

“I don’t see what
right you have asking me for promises,” Lysira retorted, bristling.

“I have no right,”
Draconas conceded. “Except as someone who cares about you. Cares very much.”

Lysira’s colors
blurred in confusion. She didn’t know what to say and so she said nothing, and
by the time she thought of something, he was gone.

Lysira soared
triumphantly into the evening sky. She could have fought Grald or a hundred
like him in that moment of happiness. She did not forget her charges and, from
her vantage point, she cast an eye on the humans, antlike, in the boat on the
river that wound, snakelike, among the trees, and she thought how deceptively
serene and peaceful the chaotic world of men looked from this vast distance, up
among the stars.

MARCUS WOKE WITH A
START TO PITCH DARKNESS, NOISY WITH THE songs of frogs and crickets, to find
Evelina lying across his feet. He tried to recall what had awakened him, but he’d
been so deeply asleep that he couldn’t distinguish dream from reality. He had
either heard the swishing sound of something creeping along the shoreline or he’d
dreamed it.

He froze, not
moving, barely breathing, thinking that if he was quiet, whatever was out there
might try to sneak up on him and he’d have the advantage of surprise.

He heard nothing
except Evelina, who muttered something and rolled over, causing the boat to
rock. He waited a few more moments. He couldn’t wait long, however, for he was
afraid that Evelina might wake and inadvertently say or do something that would
reveal their hiding place.

Marcus rose up
slowly and stealthily. He slid one arm beneath Evelina’s head, and he placed
his hand, very gently, over her mouth.

“Evelina,” he said
softly.

He expected her to
jump and gasp or scream, which was why he had his hand over her mouth. What he
did not expect was for her to nibble at his fingers, murmur something
unintelligible, and nestle more deeply into his embrace.

“Evelina, wake up,”
he said again.

She snuggled
closer. Her breath was warm and moist on his hand. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

“Evelina,” he
said. “Please . . .”

Her eyelids
fluttered. She stretched languorously, arching her back and flexing her arms
behind her head. Soft, full parts of her brushed against him. Her lips licked
his fingers and the touch of her lips and her body sent desire aching through
his body.

“I’m awake,” she
said, and her eyes opened.

She gazed at
Marcus, then she pushed him back and sat up with a suddenness that set the boat
rocking wildly.

“Oh!” she gasped,
clutching at her chemise.

“I’m sorry!” he
gasped in turn. Drawing back, he felt guilt-ridden and confused. “I didn’t mean
... I was only trying ... I was afraid you might cry out . . .”

Evelina hung her
head. “No, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft as the night. “What must you think
of me! I was dreaming . . .” She blushed so deeply that he could see her flush
even in the lambent starlight. “Please forgive me, Your Highness.”

Not knowing what
else to do, he patted her hand soothingly, all the while keeping watch in the
woods.

“Is there
something out there?” she asked, noticing his preoccupation and clutching his
hand tightly in alarm.

“I thought I heard
a noise. But it may have been an animal. I haven’t heard it again.” He gently
disengaged his hand. “We should be going. I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”

“I didn’t mean to
sleep at all,” said Evelina remorsefully. “It’s just ... I was so tired . . .”

He soothed and
petted her again and thought about the spell he was going to cast on the boat.

“How do your hands
feel after all that rowing?” Evelina asked suddenly.

“Like raw meat,”
he said ruefully.

“I’m so sorry,”
said Evelina, and her eyes shimmered in the starlight. “When we stop to rest, I
will make a poultice to put on them. You will have to leave it on for several
days and not do any more rowing, but it will heal them, and when they are
healed, we can continue our journey.”

“A kind thought,
but we don’t have time,” said Marcus. He was busy constructing the magic in his
mind.

“I was thinking,
Marcus. This may be unseemly of me to offer, but if I tore off some strips of
the hem of my chemise, you could use them to bandage your hands. It might help
a little—”

“That’s a good
idea.” He knew what he had to do and he turned his attention to her. “If you
don’t mind—”

“I don’t mind.”

Evelina lifted her
skirt and folded it back over her knees. Marcus realized a bit belatedly that a
gentleman should turn his head away, and he did so, but he took with him the
image of shapely legs, white in the starlight. He heard fabric rip and tear,
and when she told him he could turn around, she held up two long strips. She
wrapped Marcus’s hands herself, apologizing profusely for the fact that the
cloth was travel-stained and frayed.