Redheart (Leland Dragon Series) (19 page)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“Whitetail,” said Kallon, not knowing where the firmness of his voice was coming from. “This human has done no wrong. You are holding him prisoner against the Dragon-Human Relations Pact guidelines for non-war conflicts.”

“This human is a spy. There are no guidelines which dictate this situation.”

“Hawk spit! I’m no spy, you pale runt!” Orman balled his fists and shook one at Whitetail. He swung flashing eyes to Kallon. “All they asked me about was the circlet. They think the real one is out there somewhere.”

“The Circlet of Aspira? Is that what all this is about?” Kallon looked from Orman to Whitetail, and back. “What does that have to do with Riza? What does that have to do with you, Orman?”

“Kallon, that circlet is what your father was defending when he died.” Orman suddenly looked older than Kallon remembered him ever looking.

“But, you always told me he died defending you.”

“Yes. I was bringing it to him. To return it to the dragons.” Orman closed his eyes and withered against the wall. “We were attacked, and I never did find the circlet after that. We failed to protect it.”

“Do not say failed!” Kallon reared back, his anger blasting to the ceiling. “He was not a failure! He was a hero!”

“Yes.” Orman held up his hands. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Kallon felt Whitetail’s eyes boring into the side of his face, and he swung his narrowed eyes to the White.

Whitetail crossed his forelegs and arched back. “So. You are the heir of Bren Redheart, after all.”

“Of course I am. I am the last Red,” Kallon snorted, and surprised himself again with his tone.

“We thought you had died with your father. That is,” Whitetail added, “…we dragons. You will forgive us our surprise at your sudden and unexpected return.”

“What have you done with the girl?”

“Me?” Whitetail looked between Kallon and Orman. “What do you mean, what have I done with her?”

“The wizard said you took her and left the door open. What have you done with her?”

Whitetail shook his head, paws uplifting. “No, you are mistaken. I have only just come from the woods, where we have been searching for her. Your wizard here is the one who opened the door and helped her escape.”

“You’re lying!” Orman puffed his chest and glared up at the white dragon.

“Am I?” Whitetail’s eye ridges lifted, and his paws fanned open. “You will have the opportunity to refute the accusation tomorrow, during the council meeting. In the meantime, we will investigate. You will have to be kept in chains in full view of a guard at all times. You cannot be trusted to stay put.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Orman said. “You’ve gone too far this time, Whitetail. The others will see right through you!”

“We will see.” Whitetail waved a paw, and from nowhere, a Gray appeared with chains in his paws, dragging them noisily across the floor.

“No!” Kallon roared. He lowered his head and rammed Whitetail in the shoulder. The frail dragon grunted in surprise and careened back against the wall with a thud. Kallon spun for the Gray.

The Gray dropped the chains and tensed, but before he had a chance to pounce, Kallon dove. His head butt found the Gray’s jaw. The Gray’s head snapped back, but his forelegs jutted out, clamping around Kallon’s throat. Kallon yanked back, trying to pull the Gray off balance, but the Gray only stumbled and caught his footing again.

Kallon couldn’t breathe. The Gray loomed over him, face twisted. Kallon worked his tongue, and then spit a pathetic spout of flame into the Gray’s face. He knew it wasn’t strong enough to singe anything, but he hoped it was enough to sting his eyes.

The Gray recoiled with a growl and the grip around Kallon’s throat loosened. Air rushed into his lungs. Kallon chopped his foreleg upward to break the hold, and then rushed. Desperately, or, instinctively, Kallon went for his throat. His jaws clamped around the Gray’s thick neck, and Kallon threw all of his weight into flipping the other onto his back. Gray claws flailed. His opponent slammed into Whitetail with the rumble of an avalanche.

“Hurry,” said Kallon, and nudged Orman with his snout. The rooms of the manor weren’t large enough to allow full wingspan, so he and Orman couldn’t lift until they were outside. Only a few feet to go. When Orman struggled to run, Kallon gently nudged him again.

“Get off me, you oaf!” Whitetail was heard above the scratching din of two dragon bodies scrabbling for balance.

They reached the arch. Kallon clutched Orman to his chest. His wings sliced the air, and they flew. Kallon pivoted to look behind them. They weren’t being followed.

“What about Riza?” Orman called over the wind.

Kallon dipped to catch a cross draft, and his billowed wings shot them sharply forward. “Whitetail said she is in the woods. If we try to look for her now, we might lead more dragons to her.”

“Why would Whitetail help her escape, only to abandon her to the wilds?”

“I do not think she was abandoned, I think she was delivered to someone. A human.”

“A human?” Orman asked, his voice weakening.

Armitage. That human in black was at least competent to keep Riza safe in a wood full of searching dragons. Kallon seethed at having to leave her to his company for the night, but he wasn’t exactly given a choice.

“We’ll need to go back. This isn’t over, you know,” said Orman. “They’re using that girl. I have a bad feeling.”

“I’ll go back once you’re safe,” said Kallon. While he spoke, his eyes scoured the darkness below. Armitage had better take care of Riza. Or he’d kill him.

* * *

Riza was tugged through the cutting underbrush, trying to keep up. “How much farther? Where are we going?” Jastin didn’t respond. He only yanked her arm harder. She stumbled, and the glowing crystal dropped from her hand and winked out.

Jastin stopped. “Now what?” He crouched and sifted his fingers through the thick carpet of fir needles. “We could really use that light.”

His face hovered somewhere near her knee. She wanted to kick him. “I’m tired. I’m hungry. I’m scared. I think my feet are bleeding.”

He rose up, and though she couldn’t make out his features in the darkness, she felt his face close by. “I’m sorry, Riza. I know I’m pushing you hard, but we’re almost to Blade, and then you won’t have to walk.”

“But then what? Where are you taking me?”

“To a safe place, where the dragons won’t find us. We’ll need to spend the night there, then we’ll leave the mountain tomorrow.” His hand drew down her arm and clasped her fingers. “Forget the light. I can hear Blade. Come on.”

She couldn’t think of what else to do, so she followed. Leaving with him tomorrow would be a different story, but she didn’t mention that. She trudged along, her feet aching as though on fire, her legs as heavy as timber logs.

“Ho, Blade,” Jastin called. Hooves rustled and a soft whinny sounded. “Up you go.”

Riza was whisked from her feet and deposited onto Blade’s saddle. Jastin hoisted himself behind her, wrapped his arms around her to grasp the reins, and clicked his tongue.

What a relief to be off her feet. She sagged against Jastin despite trying not to. “I feel like I’ve been hungry and tired for weeks,” she murmured. “Always running. Always dark. I want to see the sun again.”

“You rest now,” he said, and pinned her gently back with his left arm.

In the next moment, he was rousing her. “We’re here, Riza. Look.”

She peeled open her eyes and tried to find what she was supposed to be seeing. A blur of flickering light floated somewhere in the distance. Everything else was just darkness.

Jastin slid from the saddle, then eased her down onto her feet. The moment she touched down, sharp pain shot through her legs. She hobbled a few steps, then crumpled, her body refusing to work. Jastin’s arms came around her and scooped her up. “We have food and water and shelter for the night. You’ll feel better soon.”

He carried her into the mouth of a cave, where torchlight bathed them both. Jastin’s face was pinched and dusty. Her borrowed tunic crumpled around her thighs, torn and muddied. Her arms oozed blood from hundreds of tiny scratches. He laid her onto the ground. “So many caves,” she mused aloud.

Then she saw the crate beside her. She pulled back the cloth. “Food! Bread and cheese!” She didn’t even wait for an invitation. She broke off a handful of white cheese and gorged.

“Help yourself.” Something in his tone sounded amused, though he didn’t smile. He crouched beside her and broke off some bread for himself.

“How did you know this would be here? Did you bring it?”

“No,” Jastin said. He chewed.

“Then who did?”

He only watched her, then rose up and stepped outside.

“Jastin?”

He returned with a saddlebag. Opening it, he laid out an empty water bladder, two piles of cloth, a cake of lard soap, and small tins that were bent and tarnished. She finished her cheese and broke off a thick piece of bread while she watched. “Are you going to tell me anything about what’s happening?”

“What’s happening is that we’re eating. And drinking, hopefully.” He leaned over the crate and rummaged through it. “Ah. Perfect.” He withdrew a clay pot and two chipped cups. “This will help you feel better.” Red wine splashed into the cups, and he offered her one.

She accepted. She was so thirsty she drank it dry, and then held out the cup for a refill. “Not too much on an empty stomach,” he said. “Just sip.” More wine poured. She sipped.

Warmth filled her weary body. She did feel better. She finished her bread and reached for more. “Someone knew we would be coming here tonight, and left food and torchlight. Why?”

“When you’re able, you’ll bathe.” He set the soap and the pile of cloth beside her. “Scrub your feet, even though it will sting. You can have one of my tunics.”

As much as she detested the thought of bathing anywhere near the man, she was looking forward to a good soak. Filth and grit felt caked into her skin, as though she’d been lifted by her heels and dunked headfirst into a vat of grime. “I’m able, I think, if it’s not far.”

He whistled, and Blade appeared at the cave opening. “I’ll lead you there. Blade will wait for you and lead you back.”

A few aching minutes later, she was perched atop the black mount, watching the sky as she was carried. “I see stars. Look, Jastin.”

“A clear night. Hot.”

“Yes. Always hot.” Water splashed around her feet as Blade moved into the water. Her feet did sting as they submerged, and she sucked in a breath. Then she slid off the saddle and plunged into the cool water. Blade waited while she soaked and scrubbed her stinging feet, her scalp, and her face. When she finally climbed back onto Blade’s back, she breathed in deeply of the clean mountain scent mixed with lavender and damp hair. Then she slipped Jastin’s black tunic over her head and tugged it into place.

“Ho, Blade,” called Jastin, and the horse turned to follow.

She stiffened. “How long were you standing there?” No reply. She wished she’d kicked him in the head when she’d had the chance.

Back at the cave, she rested against a scratchy wool blanket from another of Jastin’s saddlebags. He was tearing a second tunic into strips for her feet. “Why did that white dragon help me out and then tell the others that I’d escaped? And how did you know I was supposed to go east? Why was this food waiting here?” She leaned up to peer at him. He silently wrapped a strip of cloth around her swollen wounds. “Jastin?”

He tied off the cloth. “I do like the sound of my name from your mouth. A mouth that asks too many questions, though.”

She lay back with a huff. “Kallon answers my questions.”

“How nice of him.”

“He is nice. If you’d give him a chance, you’d find out for yourself.” His hands were gentle as they wrapped her other foot, and she peeked across her belly at him. “I think you and that white dragon worked something out together. If you can trust him, why can’t you trust Kallon?”

He moved closer and stretched out on his side, his dark eyes regarding her. “I don’t trust any dragon. What I worked out with the White was done out of a higher purpose. He’s giving me a chance to be a part of something larger, and I am taking it.”

“Something larger?”

He tucked his arm beneath his head, his cheek resting on his forearm. “You have charmed the Red, you know. He’s smitten, somehow.”

“We’re friends. We care about each other.”

“I’ve protected you, and I’ve fed and clothed you. Yet you don’t call me a friend. What do you see in that red beast you don’t see in me?” His hand reached out for her cheek.

“Don’t.” She rolled over, turning her back.

What
did
she see in Kallon that she didn’t see in Jastin? Why did she prefer Kallon’s scaly touch? These questions, and others, circled her mind like a mouse running in a barrel. Despite her exhaustion, and her eagerness to sleep, she didn’t. Around and around the questions looped. She wrestled with them deep into the night.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Riza opened her eyes to find her wish had come true. She could see the sun again. At least, she could feel it, because it reached warm fingers into the cave that caressed her legs and soothed her stiff joints. How she’d missed the light! She sat up and stretched, lazily content.

And alone. “Jastin?” She tried to stand on puffy, aching feet, but was forced back to her knees. She crawled forward, inching her face out into the day. “Jastin? Are you out there?”

Four gray feet landed on the soft grass outside the cave. Then four green feet. And four more white, clawed feet dropped to land in front of her face. Riza clutched the trembling ground. Three fierce dragon muzzles lowered, snorting hot breath. She felt the air seep from her lungs.

“Where is your mate?” Whiteclaw’s familiar snout moved to within inches of her nose. “Has he abandoned you?
“My mate?”

“The other human.”

She scowled at the white dragon. “He’s not my mate.”

Blade’s clopping gait sounded from near the water. “I’m not even her friend,” came Jastin’s voice from behind the dragons. They turned, tails swinging wide, to face him.

“Seize him,” said Whitetail. The Gray and the Green rushed Jastin, dwarfing he and Blade between them. Claws gripped his arms and forced them away from his sides. Blade whinnied and thrashed.

Jastin shouted, his face flaming red. His thighs gripped his mount, trying to settle him. “We had a deal, Whitetail!”

“Deal? I am afraid I do not know what you mean.” The white dragon oozed toward the group around the frightened horse. “Where have you been this morning, human?”

“You know where I was.” Jastin’s mouth curled into a snarl. He struggled to yank his arms from the dragon claws.

“Let me guess. Somewhere in the vicinity of the council arena?” Whitetail daintily reached for Jastin’s sword at his side. “That is where we found the murder victim. A crossbreed of Blue and Green. Would that be Teal?” The sword drew out slowly from its sheath. Thick blotches of crimson clung to the blade. “Would this be dragon blood on your sword, human?”

Watching the scene as though it were a dream, Riza felt her color drain from her face. She choked on the urge the retch. “Jastin.” She heard her own voice as a whisper. “What have you done?”

Four sets of eyes turned to her. She could only stare back. “Ah, yes. The accomplice,” said Whitetail.

“No,” said Jastin through clenched teeth. “Not the girl. You leave her out of this.”

“Tsk, tsk. I would be remiss in my duties if I did not bring you both to the council for sentencing.”

“No!” Jastin suddenly bolted up and out of the saddle. He swung his feet, flipping them over his head to spin within the dragons’ grasp. As his feet came down, he planted them against Blade’s rump and kicked him forward. The horse bolted. “Take him, Riza! Go!”

She didn’t have time to think. Blade bore down on her and she stood. Pain screamed from her feet, but she didn’t have time to feel, either. She leaped at the horse, grabbed at the saddle, and caught. Her fingers clawed, trying to pull up, but Blade’s run threw her against his ribs, and it was all she could do to hang on. Her feet smacked the earth, bounced up with a jerk, and smacked again. She cried out.

Just as her grip gave way, a suffocating pinch of green claws snatched her from the horse. Her stomach lurched as she was yanked skyward. Blade continued his frenzied bolt, and she watched him plunge through the thick firs as he became smaller and smaller. The world spun. Her stomach emptied.

* * *

“Orman, the sun is up. I’m going back to Mount Gore.” Kallon nudged the sleeping wizard with his snout. Orman grunted. “What do you need before I go?”

Orman rolled to his back, knuckles circling at his closed eyes. “Mount Gore, you say?”

“Yes,” Kallon said, impatient to get going.

“Yes, yes. We must go. The wind was calling to me in my dreams.” He pushed up to sit, hunched and bewildered-looking, with his white hair turned wild from sleep, and his gray eyes hazy. “But not yet. Let me gather up my things.” Orman suddenly blinked. “Where are we?”

Kallon hung his head. He’d brought Orman to the first place he could think of that might mean rest and strength to the human, and had quietly hoped that he’d be able to slip away before Orman realized. Kallon had spent the night rationalizing that his cave would be too risky, that Orman’s hut had been out of the question, and that he could think of no other place. But the truth was that Kallon had originally brought Orman to this place without conscious thought at all, except for the vague memory of a mysterious dragon helper that had once healed and strengthened him here.

Kallon watched Orman’s eyes trail the burned landscape. He watched Orman’s expression shift from confusion to surprise, then to astonishment, as the wizard’s gaze found the erect headstones of his father’s grave, his mother’s grave, and the Dandria tree. Finally, Orman’s eyes returned to Kallon, and glanced briefly to the dull linking stone before meeting Kallon’s eyes.

Kallon shrank smaller and smaller in shame. At least, he tried to shrink. The fact was that he actually felt larger and larger, growing in embarrassment and stupidity. He shifted his weight. His throat rumbled. In the end, it was he who broke the silence. “I don’t know why I brought you here.”

Orman’s wrinkles caved in around his mouth and bunched up into a wide smile. “I think you do.”

He couldn’t meet Orman’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter. No help came to us. I don’t know why I allowed myself to think it might.”

“In other words, you came here in a time of need, seeking instant help from someone you don’t even really believe in, and because you didn’t receive exactly what you wanted, you feel justified in your denial.”

Kallon lifted his eyes to stare flatly at Orman. Fine. He’d play. “Yes,” he said. “Now if you don’t need anything from me, there’s someone out there who does.”

Orman climbed unsteadily to his feet. He made his uneven way to the Dandria and stroked his fingers across the mottled bark. “You met him. You actually stood in the presence of the Gold, didn’t you?” His face swung to Kallon. “And still you managed to deny it all to yourself. That is some feat, Kallon Redheart. Few are able to do that.”

Kallon snarled. “You’re mocking me.”

Orman’s hand shot up. “No, not intentionally. I actually admire the depth of your stubbornness in a way one might stare in fascination at a starving salamander, gobbling up its own tail in attempt to survive.”

Kallon growled, but Orman waved him to silence. “I’ll save the lecture for later. You did the right thing, bringing me here. Thank you. Now we have business with a certain black dragon. And your fate.”

“The only fate I am concerned about now is Riza’s,” Kallon said. “You don’t need to come if you’re not strong.”

“I’m not strong. But I’m needed.” Orman beckoned Kallon to crouch, and he sprang up to clutch at Kallon’s spine. Bare feet kicked at his ribs, and hands pinched his scales as Orman tried to swing his leg over.

Kallon winced. If his friends didn’t get better at mounting, he might have to invest in a saddle just to spare the pain of each climb.

Orman paused. He looked at Kallon with upraised brows.

Kallon glared back. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Wasn’t my idea,” said Orman. The wizard finally settled across his shoulders. “Anything left of my home? My crystals? My workshop?”

Kallon almost didn’t have the heart to break it to him. “Nothing but rubble.”

He could feel Orman’s sigh draw right up through his scales. “Alas,” said the wizard. “We’ll have to use our wits, then. I’ve never had much confidence in mine.”

“Nor have I,” Kallon said.

“After all,” Orman continued, and patted Kallon’s shoulder. “Look who I’m counting on to be the hero of the day.”