Redheart (Leland Dragon Series) (24 page)

Kallon looked at Yellowfang. She smiled. Kallon couldn’t bear it. He pulled from Brownwing’s grasp. “What do we know of Blackclaw? That he is a conniving, destructive murderer bent on domination at all costs. What makes you believe that this quest is even possible? Would it not better suit his plans that I fail, and fail miserably?”

“Yes, but—”

“Perhaps is he confident I will fail because he knows something we do not.” Suddenly, the whispers he’d overheard between Riza and Armitage in the prison cell began to make sense. He hadn’t eavesdropped on purpose, of course, but with his sensitive hearing, he couldn’t help it. He hadn’t believed what Armitage had said at the time, that the pouch was miles away somewhere and that Blackclaw already had the circlet. However, considering things now, Kallon began to see that Armitage might have been on to something after all.

“What could he know that we do not?” asked Yellowfang.

“The dragon hunter thinks Blackclaw has the circlet already,” Kallon said.

Brownwing scoffed. “And you believe him?”

Kallon regarded the two for a moment. “I believe Blackclaw would not send me to find something if there was a remote chance I would succeed.”

Yellowfang turned to stare through an octagonal window.

“Shera?” Brownwing stood beside her, and stared out into the bleak sky.

“Dawn,” she said. “We are no closer to an answer than when we began.”

Brownwing touched the back of her knuckles. “Our answer is before us, as it has always been. We must trust. In those matters that are beyond our control, we can only trust in the divine force that brought him to us.”

Were they discussing Kallon as though they’d forgotten he was there? “Forgive me if I fail to see any working of the divine here,” he said. “I see only the broken remains after a stampede of darkness.”

Brownwing and Yellowfang turned to face him. Brownwing spoke. “There has been no stampede, Kallon. Many of us still hope that in the end, right will prevail.”

“Perhaps we are wrong about Blackclaw’s already having the circlet. Perhaps it really is out there somewhere, and he is just desperate enough for it that he is willing to risk your success to get his claws on it,” Yellowfang said.

“There is only one way to find out.” Brownwing came around the end of the desk and stood before Kallon, regarding him.

“I have not come this far to run now,” Kallon said, lifting his chin. “But I cannot allow my friends to suffer for my failure. If my going serves no other purpose than to provide them a way out, I will feel satisfied that I have done what I can.”

“What do you mean?” Yellowfang asked.

“If I return without the circlet, they are as doomed as I am. And they will be mistreated while I am gone, however long that should be.”

“Perhaps we can convince the council to provide them with proper privileges.”

“Thank you, but not good enough. I need them out from under Blackclaw’s threat completely.”

Brownwing turned up his palms. “But how?”

“I have to risk them into the hands of the one creature I trust less than Blackclaw himself.” Kallon clenched his teeth, grinding them painfully.

A knock rattled the door in its hinges. “Dawn.” Without invitation, the door swung open, pushed by a gray paw. Grayfoot had to crouch to squeeze under the frame.

“Give those belongings back to the human,” Kallon said to Brownwing. “Once my friends are safe, I will search for the circlet.”

“Come on,” said the Gray, yanking Kallon’s foreleg nearly from its socket. “I get no breakfast until this is over.”

Instead of grimacing at the pain, he eyed Grayfoot’s belly. “You could spare one less breakfast.”

“Red, I am looking forward to the part where you come back, broken and disgraced. It makes for a softer beating, but we do have to take the bad with the good.”

“You and I are spending far too much time together. I think you are starting to like me.”

The Gray only laughed, and dragged him out the door. He stumbled alongside the guard, watching the hallway pass, each step bringing him closer and closer to the exit. His heartbeat surged louder and louder between his ears and his footsteps became heavier and heavier, until he finally came to a dead stop, staring out through the entrance arch.

“Grayfoot,” he said. “I have no idea what I am doing.”

The Gray snorted. “And here I thought we would never agree on anything.”

Chapter Forty-Four

Once again, Kallon climbed the steps of the granite platform and looked out across a gathering of colorful spines, wings, and dragon heads. There were more dragons now than before. The place was packed tight, and some onlookers even perched on the walls of the arena, peering around pine trees.

Dawn had come to the mountain, but hadn’t yet reached into the stadium. Evening torches still blared from their wall sconces in two leering smiles of jagged, flickering teeth. Wispy mist hung like ghost entrails over stones. The only sound was Kallon’s shuffling feet as he was led to Blackclaw. The nearer he drew to the leader, the thicker the silence became. The arena swelled with anticipation like the moment after a lightning flash when the thunder is due any moment.

Most council members were already there, seated along their exclusive pallet. Glances passed between them. Blackclaw kept to himself, though his stare burned into Kallon’s face.

As Kallon faced him, Blackclaw rose. He shifted forward, his forelegs reaching for the crowd. Kallon watched torchlight dance with shadows across Blackclaw’s face, competing as to which could more eerily distort the leader’s features.

“My fellow citizens.” Blackclaw’s voice punctured the silence, and air rushed out of the crowd in a stream of whispers. “It has been an arduous time. Suspicion and accusations have rocked the foundation of trust between leader and followers. Strangers have infiltrated our community, bringing death and dishonor. And one of our own,” his fist unfurled toward Kallon, “has come against me to manipulate tradition for his own desires.”

Blackclaw’s eyes moved past Kallon to something behind him. Kallon turned to see Brownwing climbing the steps of the platform, Armitage’s bundled belongings pressed against his chest. Blackclaw urged him forward, and pointed for Brownwing to display the items.

“Behold, dragons! The murderer’s possessions,” Blackclaw said. The crowd gasped, and surged forward to get a better view. “As you know, the Red has challenged my post, accusing me of using the power of my position for personal gain.” Heads bobbed. Tails waved. “The Red was given the opportunity to prove these charges. He could not!” Murmurs rippled across the sea of scales.

Brownwing laid each of Armitage’s effects slowly. He seemed to be taking great pains in arranging the pouches just so, in laying the covered sword out in such an angle as to showcase it. The final item, the folded leather vest, was placed at the back of the display. Brownwing turned for his seat without looking at Kallon.

Blackclaw continued, “The Red tried to convince you that I had some part in the plan to murder Bluecrest. How, I ask you, could I possibly profit from this?”

“To stir dragons to hatred for all humans!” Kallon didn’t even realize he was speaking until he heard his own voice.

Blackclaw’s face swelled. “He speaks out of turn! Still he holds to this foolish notion that I hired the human to commit this act!” Blackclaw pointed to the display of items near their feet. “I submit to you that each of these items has been thoroughly searched by honored members of our own council. There is no evidence to be—what is this?” Blackclaw’s eyes narrowed. Kallon once more turned to find someone climbing onto platform. This time it was Orman, Armitage, and Riza, led by Grayfoot.

His heart broke at the sight of Riza. Filth clung to her hair, her cheeks, her scuffed knees. Her spine curved forward, shoulders slumped in defeat, and her eyes stared, dark and listless, at nothing. He knew she couldn’t take much more, despite her fight to stay strong.

Shera Yellowfang brought up the rear, and she bowed her head as she addressed Blackclaw. “We thought it best that the prisoners should be allowed to hear the deliberations of their fate, and to stand as reminders before the citizens.”

Blackclaw brushed past Kallon to bear down on Yellowfang with a scowl. “We?”

Yellowfang looked up at the oncoming leader, and glanced at Brownwing. Brownwing stepped between her and Blackclaw, bowing his head, as well. “Those council members that we were able to consult quickly, Fordon. A majority.”

Blackclaw drew up short. He breathed silently for a moment. When he turned to the other council members, his scowl had vanished. “Very well. I concur. Let the criminals serve as examples!” He scooped up a handful of leather and pouches and shook them at the crowd. “They are the first, but they will not be the last. As we establish our new order, we will no longer be disrespected! There will be judgment!”

Just as the dragons broke into a shout, the sun stabbed hot filaments through the tall trees. Blackclaw raised his fist, and Armitage’s balled leather vest caught a stream of sunlight. The vest blazed as though on fire. Kallon cut his gaze to Armitage, who was staring hungrily at it. He strained against his chains, his fingers twitching.

“Humans are weak and pitiful, even as they try to stand against us!” Blackclaw threw the vest and pouches. The jumbled mass skidded and rolled to a stop at Orman’s feet. Armitage tensed to jump at it, but lifted dark eyes to Kallon. The man needed a distraction.

Kallon blurted, “Humans need us! There is benefit to mutual respect!”

Dragon eyes converged on his face. He felt them more than he saw them, for he was watching Armitage inch his toe toward the crumpled vest. Armitage grumbled something to Orman, but Orman only stared back as though he were deaf.

“What mutual respect?” Blackclaw asked of everyone.

Armitage managed to hook the tip of his boot under a lump of leather and dragged it closer. He touched Riza’s arm. He spoke softly to her, and for the first time, Kallon saw softness in the human’s face.

Kallon didn’t know what to expect, exactly, but he was overcome with heart-wrenching sadness as he watched Riza, wishing he could tell her goodbye. A part of him knew he would never see her again. If the human really had some sort of magic in his vest and could take Riza safely away, there was no need to go through with the quest. He would leave the mountain, of course, and pretend to search, but he would have no reason to come back. This time, he would stay gone forever.

“The Red has no answer!” Blackclaw’s voice crackled over the crowd.

Riza seemed to steel herself, and at Armitage’s quiet words, she glared. She tugged her shoulder away from his touch. What was she doing? Let the man save you, Riza! Go with him!

“Silent.” Blackclaw’s gesturing paw caught Kallon’s attention. “Perhaps you have finally learned your place,” snorted the leader.

Kallon said the first thing that came to him. “It is you who needs to learn his place, Blackclaw! A true leader is a servant, not a master!” He looked back at Armitage. The human was gone. There stood Orman, arms crossed and scowling at the empty place between him and Riza. Riza was watching Kallon. Armitage was gone! The human had saved himself, and left the others!

Kallon couldn’t believe that he was surprised. He felt a little sick.

“We are not here to discuss your leadership philosophies.” Blackclaw faced the onlookers. “We are here to give the Red the opportunity to rescind his challenge!” Blackclaw strode toward Kallon, and outstretched his paw. “There is no need to go forward with this quest, if the Red will admit his defeat now.”

“What do you mean?” Brownwing asked, coming to stand beside Kallon.

Blackclaw gave a wide, unsettling grin. “I have, from time to time, found myself caught up in zealous beliefs, Hale. I am not so unforgiving I cannot see past the Red’s insults into the heart of the matter. However,” he said, pointing a claw. “He has spoken falsehoods against me. He must withdraw them if I am to consider a gentler judgment.”

Kallon was suddenly alert to Blackclaw’s words. “How much gentler?” he asked. “What about my friends?”

“What about them? They stand for their own crimes.”

“But if I were to tell you it was I who was working with the human hunter, not the girl, would you release her?”

“Kallon!” Brownwing touched his shoulder.

Blackclaw blinked. “I could not allow you to live, Red, if you were to admit such a thing.”

“Nevertheless, would my confession release the girl?”

“He does not know what he is saying!” Brownwing shook Kallon’s shoulder as though trying to wake him. “You still have the quest! You have the opportunity to redeem yourself.”

“But what is the point?” Kallon asked. “I needed to prove Blackclaw’s wrongdoing, and I failed.”

“The Red finally speaks the truth!” Blackclaw opened his palm and thrust it toward Kallon. “His attempts to prove his accusations were in vain!”

There came a gruff shout in perfect dragonspeak. “That is only because you were all searching in the wrong place!” It was Armitage’s voice. Kallon turned. There stood the human, wrists still bound in chains as before, feet planted wide on the platform. He wore his vest. “If I had been allowed to speak before now, I would have concurred with the Red.”

“You are our prisoner! You would say anything to save yourself!” Blackclaw waved Grayfoot toward Armitage. “Gag him.”

“I say let him speak,” said Yellowfang. She lifted her chin, and stared directly at Blackclaw. “If he speaks only lies, let them be added to his judgment.”

Council members rose from their places, jaws working and paws gesturing. The crowd was awash in frantic mumbling. Blackclaw, for the first time, appeared shaken. His jaw moved for a moment without words, and then he blurted, “Of course he will only speak lies!”

“Let him speak,” said Brownwing.

“Let him speak,” said someone from the crowd.

“Let him speak!” Orman shouted, and clapped Armitage on the back.

Armitage held his bound wrists over his head. Grayfoot approached, scowling. “Search my waistline for a hidden pouch,” said Armitage. “It is payment for services rendered.”

Grayfoot paused. He glanced at Brownwing, who urged him on. Then he glanced at Blackclaw, who came blundering toward him. “Enough of this nonsense! Gag the prisoner and take him back to his cell.”

“Services rendered?” Orman himself reached toward Armitage’s waist, his palms patting, patting, patting. “Well, I’ll be.” He fished out a pouch tucked just behind Armitage’s hip, and held it up. A shaft of morning sun drenched the velvet pouch. In the sudden silence, Kallon could almost hear the crackle of the flames in the embroidered crest of Mount Gore Manor.

Someone’s tail dropped to the dusty arena floor. Leathery eyelids slid over dry eyes. Even the early clouds slammed into each other in the silence, knocking about in the pink dawn. Then Kallon pointed, and his soft voice rippled like thunder. “Fordon Blackclaw murdered Bluecrest to stir hatred for humans and enrage us into war with them.”

“No.” Blackclaw stared in disbelief. “He is lying.”

Grayfoot looked from Armitage to Blackclaw. “But I searched him. I searched every inch of him.”

Things began happening very quickly. Kallon reeled, staring at Armitage, while the council lapsed into chaotic shouting. They gathered around Blackclaw, who raged and bullied. Behind him, the crowd was still eerily quiet, and Kallon had to peer over his shoulder to see if they were still watching. They were. Eyes stared in confusion and sadness.

Yellowfang’s voice rose up over the din. “The evidence is enough to convince me. Blackclaw must immediately be removed from leadership.”

An orange paw waved. “I second.”

“This is an outrage!” Blackclaw’s stomping feet rumbled the platform. “The human is a liar, a thief, and a murderer!”

“I am no thief!” Armitage shouted.

Brownwing gestured for the council to quiet. “Shera Yellowfang will serve as interim leader until the Red returns from his quest.”

“I am leader! The Red will fail his quest. I am still your leader!” Blackclaw dove for Armitage’s belongings. His claws knocked the crossbow off the granite and it hit the ground in a puff of dust. Vials scattered. Blackclaw swung about, Armitage’s sword held high. “This Red will not be my undoing!”

The council fell back in shock. Kallon barely had time to react. The oncoming swing of the blade dropped him back. He blasted flame at Blackclaw, but his foot caught up in Armitage’s chains, and he stumbled. His face, and his flame, skewed off to singe the council members, who were shouting and waving madly to Grayfoot to subdue the leader.

“You will not come into my territory and knock me aside, Red!” Blackclaw swung the blade again, his features engorged with fury. For a moment, Kallon froze at the sight of the gleaming metal, and just then, for only a moment, considered how much that sword was determined to destroy him. Perhaps the blade was his fate, after all. Then the sharp edge of the metal split the air at his face. He dodged. Fate or no, he would fight.

He rolled. He slammed against something hard, and uncurled to find he’d collided with Grayfoot. The dragon’s stunned gaze hovered between Kallon and Blackclaw, whose footsteps were approaching. The Gray was going to be no help. Kallon saw Grayfoot’s shortstaff, recognized it, and grabbed for it. Yellowfang’s screech of pain sounded. Kallon spun. Yellowfang had obviously leapt at Blackclaw to stop him, but had fallen, and her blood stained the blade that was now swinging for his throat.

Kallon blocked the swing with the staff. “This is futile, Blackclaw! They are seeing you for who you are, regardless of my words!” He forced the blade toward the ground and spun, swinging his spiny tail at Blackclaw’s face. He felt contact, and continued through the spin. Blackclaw staggered aside. Kallon sucked in a breath to spew fire, but orange and brown and green paws of council members pounced onto Blackclaw to subdue him.