Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon) (28 page)

A smile creased his scaly face. “That is all I ask of you. Remember Starfire’s words: ‘Use your powers for good and do not be corrupted.’ There will come a time when you will be tempted to turn against the good and follow the easier path. Evil men will seek to corrupt you and use you for their own purposes. Oganna, you must not let them!”

“Starfire? Is she the woman that I just met?”

“Yes. Listen to what she told you. Always use the weapons you have created for good. Defend the helpless and exercise judgment with wisdom.”

She nodded her head.

The dragon shook his body, twisted his neck to look at the sky, and spoke in a low rumble. “I do believe that
you
will not fail me.” Then he spread his wings and flew into the night sky.

The wind buffeted her for a moment after he’d gone. She braced herself until it had passed and then looked to the cave. She neared it, wondering if her labors had been fruitful. The explosion had more or less split it apart, spraying dirt and stones in a circular pattern and leaving the cave floor exposed. A thick, transparent, crystal-like substance covered it. She chipped away the cooled crystal from her molds and examined the results.

Her hands trembled with excitement as she lifted the sword and the boomerang from the floor. They were both composed of identical transparent crystal, and the slightest flicker of light danced on them like stardust. The top of the sword’s handle, where the blood had collected, now held a transparent ruby of enormous size.

She stood to her feet and held the sword in one hand and the boomerang in her other. A feeling of satisfaction welled up inside her like warm water filling her soul, coursing through her, and driving all doubt in her abilities from her mind. She laughed to the sky and threw out the boomerang in a long arc. Its transparency was so absolute that it was rendered invisible. Gentle as a feather, it returned to her hand. She raised her sword. Its blade turned crimson, and the crystal handle pulsed with light. Luminescent silver spread from the sword over her arm, coating her body and leaving her covered in a dress of woven silver. The stars reflected on her garment as if in a mirror, causing it to shimmer in the darkness.

“Now,” she said, “I am ready!” She slid the sword under her belt, and the silver garments disappeared. Its unguarded blade rested against her side, and so perfect was its crystal that it was hardly visible. She tucked the boomerang under the belt’s other end, over her right hip.

Invisible weapons—ingenious! She whistled a soft, cheerful tune as a wind kicked up, and she turned toward the home. Specter stood before her.

At first she feared him, then she saw the spark of hope in his eyes, and when she smiled he returned it with one of his own. “Go, dragon’s offspring! God speed you on your journey, and I will follow, always, to watch over and protect you as I did for your mother.”

She flung her straying hair over her shoulders, left the area, and passed swiftly through the forest toward home. Cool moisture was settling in the air, testament to the late hour. A mouse darted past, stirring the leaves at her feet. She heard the beat of an owl’s wings as it dropped from its perch and caught the protesting rodent in its talons.

Oganna felt for her sword’s pommel. The sword was a weapon to defend the innocent and to destroy the wicked, a saver of lives, a destroyer of lives. “All things that begin must someday end, little mouse,” she whispered into the night. “
All
things eventually end.”

The soft patter of rain on the roof greeted Oganna the morning after her encounter with Albino. In order to avoid questions, she hid her weapons under her bed and joined her father and aunts for breakfast.

Ilfedo stirred his porridge for a couple minutes, glancing from time to time at the sisters. “Oganna,” he said, “an urgent matter has come up, and I must leave again.”

She dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “When do you leave?”

“This morning.” He stared at her. She knew he was waiting for her to ask if she could go with him.

She nodded to her aunts as if in resignation. “Are you going with him?”

“No. There is another matter that requires our immediate attention.” They told her of the reported creature, and then Ilfedo related Ombre’s report.

Oganna momentarily nodded again. “That’s nice.”

Ilfedo raised his eyebrows. Either he was relieved that she wasn’t pestering him, or he was confused by her detached attitude. Maybe it was a little of both. She laughed inwardly, amused by their confusion and enjoying every minute of it. If only they knew what she had been up to whilst they slept last night, then they would have guessed her intentions.

About mid-morning, Ilfedo bade everyone farewell and left for the northern border. A little later her aunts set out to the south, waving goodbye as she wished them God speed. As soon as they were out of sight, she raced indoors, grabbed her weapons and one of her father’s hunting packs, filled it with food and clothes, and set out with determination to track her aunts. She hiked the pack higher on her shoulders. “Path into the unknown—here I come!”

C
aritha stretched her hands toward the blazing fire and craned her neck to look at the night sky. The air felt cool and damp, reminiscent of her days in the cave when she and her sisters had resided in the forests west of the Hemmed Land. She threw another log on the fire. The flames licked around it, curling yellow and orange fingers along the bark.

“Just about done,” Evela said from the opposite side of the blaze.

“Good.” Caritha rose to watch her sisters finish setting up the tent.

Rose’el, wielding a wooden hammer in one hand and holding a stubborn stake in her other, harrumphed. Her blows stabbed it into the ground at last. “Now stay put you stupid thing!” She straightened and kicked at the stake before wrapping a tent rope around it. She wrapped the rope tighter and pulled, stretching the tent over its frame, and then stabbed the stake into the ground. Caritha smirked. “Having trouble with that?”

“Some sisters don’t know when to hold their tongues and when to pitch in,” Rose’el muttered under her breath. She pounded the stake’s head with the hammer, driving it farther into the ground. This time she applied too much force. The stake split and the near corner of the tent collapsed. “That’s it! I’m not wasting any more time on this nonsense.” She dropped the hammer, stormed off several steps, and pointed at Caritha. “I’ve been at this for almost half an hour. If you feel so smart—then why don’t you try it?”

“Take it easy, Rose’el.” Caritha picked up the hammer and chose a new stake. “Patience is required when setting up one of these contraptions.”

Standing near her shoulder with arms crossed, Rose’el huffed. “I still don’t see why we couldn’t just lay out our mats and sleep under the stars.”

Caritha wrapped the rope around the stake, pulled it taut, and drove the stake into the ground. It held firm, and the tent walls straightened. “See? With a little patience the task is done.”

“You want to know something, sister?” Rose’el placed her hands on her hips. “Sometimes you can be the cockiest, most arrogant—”

Laura, Evela, and Levena threw their bedrolls into the open end of the tent and lay down. “Come on.” Levena crossed her arms and rested her chin on them. “We all need our rest.” Rose’el relaxed her arms and went inside.

As Caritha entered the tent, her ear caught the faint snap of a stick. She stopped and looked outside at the dark trees.

“Anything wrong?” Evela raised her head.

“I thought I heard a twig snap—like someone stepped on it.” Her eyes roved the forest. Nobody was in sight, so she shook her head. “I must be more tired than I realized.” She rolled out her bedding and lay down.

The wind outside their shelter howled through the trees and the light of their fire flickered. Laura fell asleep, as did Evela and Levena. Rose’el’s soft snoring followed.

With a last glance at her sisters, Caritha made certain they were really asleep before pulling a small object out of her pocket. She held it up and looked at it in the shielding dimness. If her sisters knew what she was considering, they would most likely try to dissuade her. She felt the smooth gold band in her fingers. The small diamond cradling its surface sparkled.

She sighed and closed her hands over it. “I don’t know what holds you back,” Ombre had said. “But I do know that I will never love another as I love you.” He had pressed the ring into her hand. “I had hoped you would accept this tonight, but I want you to do what is best for you.” He had stroked her hair and looked fondly into her eyes. “Keep this, and when you are ready to be mine, put it on. I will wait until my eyes can no longer see, and the hairs on my head have turned gray.”

Oh, how she had longed to say yes, right there, right then. But for all his love, Ombre could not understand what held her back. She had seen what had happened to Dantress, and she knew that as the daughter of the dragon, she too bore the gifts and the curse. Was a year of love worth the sacrifice of a lifetime? She envied Dantress. Envied her certainty, her courage, and the life she’d brought into the world. But she had also seen what Dantress’s death had done to Ilfedo. She had seen how it hurt him, and she could not bear to leave Ombre in the same way. Something deep inside told her not to worry about it, that Ombre was cut from a different mold and his life would go on.

Feeling sorrowful, she shook her head. No, she could not bear to wound Ombre. She put the ring back in her pocket, rolled on her side, saw his caring face in her mind, and silently wept. She craved his love, craved his embrace, and yet feared the consequences. With a full heart she closed her eyes. Morning would bring a string of activities to keep her busy.

The next morning the Warrioresses traveled to the village of Harpen. The sunlit streets were thronged with people. Some refugees from other southern towns trudged through town, carrying their possessions on their backs or in carts. Caritha led the way to a large inn and inquired as to the whereabouts of the doctor who had cared for the survivor from Bordelin.

“Follow the main road west,” a burly man said. “The doctor lives at the very edge of town in a fine, two-story brick house. It’s the last on the right. You will have no trouble finding it.”

She thanked him for his help, then turned to her sisters. “Did you—”

“Wait a minute.” The blond, curly-haired innkeeper stepped closer. “Aren’t you the Warrioresses?”

A small crowd of mug-holding men gathered around them.

Dropping her voice, Caritha whispered in Levena’s ear. “Get out of here and meet me at the doctor’s house. I’ll keep these people distracted long enough to keep them out of our way.” Her sisters filtered out of the door, and Caritha faced the friendly faces with a charming smile. “Yes, I am a Warrioress.”

The men came in closer, some shaking her hand, some trying to kiss it. She turned to the man who’d given her directions and played at being shy. “I need to find a ladies’ room,” she whispered.

He puffed out his chest and boomed orders to the crowd. “Make way for the lady!”

She strode into the restroom at the back of the inn and locked the door behind her. A couple of windows, built high in the wall to let in fresh air, offered her the perfect escape route. She sprang up, grasped one of the sills, vaulted through the window, and landed in a crouch on the dirt in a back alley. Keeping to back streets, she made her way to the western side of town.