The Dragon of Trelian (34 page)

But the spell parted around Jakl without touching him. Calen exhaled in relief. Apparently what he had read about dragons being resistant to magic was not an exaggeration. Meg must have felt the resistance; she was laughing now, and Calen managed a shaky smile. Perhaps it was going to be all right after all.

Sen Eva seemed temporarily at a loss. Then she looked at Meg, and back at the dragon. A terrible understanding came into her eyes, and she turned away from Jakl and raised her hands toward Meg once more.

Meg froze. Calen lunged toward her, desperately willing his shield to grow large enough to enclose her. He knew Meg was only a few feet away from him, but the distance seemed so much greater than that, and he was moving so
slowly
— he felt as if he were trying to push his way through day-old pudding. Jakl screamed again, stretching his mouth open wide and sending forth a blast of hot air. Meg gasped in anticipation, and Sen Eva stumbled with the force of the dragon’s breath. So did Calen, falling back with a grunt beside Mage Serek on the cold stone. Serek seemed barely conscious, still fighting the effects of Sen Eva’s sleep spell. Sen Eva, no match for Calen in clumsiness, turned even as she caught herself, her own shield half forming before she realized what Calen had already seen, what Meg could feel too, judging from her fallen expression: it was only air. Jakl still didn’t have his fire.

Sen Eva dropped her shield, laughing. “Children,” she said, almost fondly. “Even your dragon is only a child.” She was still smiling as she raised her hands toward Meg once more. Meg didn’t try to run. She stood and faced her enemy, tears of anger and frustration shining in her furious eyes. Calen knew he couldn’t get to her in time, but he tried anyway, pushing himself up and forward in an awkward, lumbering half-run, half-crouch. Jakl was turning in the sky, perhaps planning to launch himself at Sen Eva to kill with claws what he could not burn with fire, but there was no way he’d be in time, either. Sen Eva’s fingertips began to glow as the red power grew again between her hands.

And then Wilem’s hand reached forward and grabbed his mother’s ankle, pulling her off balance. Her spell flew wide, passing harmlessly above Meg’s head.

This time she did fall, and in her surprise she did not manage to thrust her hands out before her in time; one forearm slammed against the stone with a crack that made Calen wince. Her face whitened, but she did not cry out. Calen doubted she was even truly aware of the pain. She twisted around to stare at her son, whose fingers still gripped her left ankle. Most of his body lay motionless, not yet recovered from whatever Sen Eva had cast at him before.

“No,” Wilem said, forcing the words with obvious physical effort. “Mother, I cannot allow it.”

She opened her mouth but seemed unable to speak. Her eyes were wide with shock and grief and madness.

Calen reached Meg at last. He grabbed her wrist, probably too hard, but he didn’t care; he wasn’t letting her out of range again. Sen Eva would remember them in a moment, he was sure.

For now, however, she was still staring helplessly at Wilem. She began to raise her hands toward him, then winced and allowed her right arm to hang limply at her side. With her left she slowly pointed her shaking fingers at her son’s face.

“Will you kill me, too?” he asked calmly.

She appeared to be thinking about it. For one instant, Calen thought he saw the merest tinge of red energy dance around her fingertips, but he could not be sure. Then she turned her hand palm upward, her threatening gesture becoming one of supplication instead.

“If you stop me, it will all have been for nothing,” she whispered.

Wilem looked back at her sadly. “I’m sorry,” he said.

For a moment everything was silent. And then a black, misshapen creature rose screaming above the short stone wall on the far side of the tower rooftop.

MEG AND CALEN BOTH FELL TO
their knees, pummeled by the horrible noise. Even then, Calen did not release Meg’s wrist. His grip was making painful indentations in her flesh, but she didn’t want him to let go. Not when that thing was there — gods, right
there
— screaming its awful, heartrending scream. Wilem had cringed as soon as it appeared. He seemed as frightened as they were. This must be another secret that Sen Eva hadn’t shared with her son. Serek was staring at the monster with an unreadable expression, still apparently unable to move from where he lay.

The sound seemed to reawaken something in Sen Eva; she kicked her leg free of her son’s grasp and got awkwardly to her feet, cradling her injured arm against her chest. “It will
not
be for nothing,” she spat, looking down at him. Then she turned her face to the monster and seemed to take comfort in its terrible presence. It was twin to the one they’d encountered with Jakl earlier. She pointed her good arm at Meg and Calen. “Kill them!” she shouted. “Kill them now!”

The creature — the
slaarh,
Meg thought distantly — shrieked again and started toward them. Calen’s grip grew even tighter, and Meg opened her mouth to scream, and then Jakl came hurtling at it from the side, smashing against its oily-looking hide and pushing it off course. The dragon barely avoided a deadly slash as he tore away, preparing to circle for another attack. It was a hopeless tactic, Meg knew; without his fire, Jakl would only tire himself out against the larger creature, if he didn’t get too close to the poisonous talons first.

“Jakl, no!” she cried, although she knew it wouldn’t do any good. He would fight to protect her until he died. And then they would all die after him — she and Calen and Maerlie and Morgan and Maurel and Mattie and her parents and Nan Vera and probably Lammy the stupid kitchen boy and gods knew who else. Herself and everyone she’d ever known or loved. She couldn’t let that happen.

She pulled Calen closer so he’d hear her over all the screaming. “He can’t stop it,” she said. She was crying; she felt the hot tears spilling down her face, burning. She thought they must be scoring her flesh by the heat and pain, but she didn’t try to brush them away. “It’s going to kill him. Calen, please, you have to help him!”

His expression filled with anguish at her words. He looked back at her, his eyes begging her to understand. “I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, Meg. I don’t have the strength. And even if I did —”

She ripped her wrist free of his grip at last and grabbed both of his hands in hers. “Take mine,” she said desperately. “Take my strength — take all of it — only save him! Please!” She closed her eyes and
pushed
at him, trying to force her energy across to him through their clasped hands. He was resisting, fighting her, but she would not let him refuse. He had to do this. It was the only way. “Take it!” she screamed at him. “Calen, please, you have to!”

Above them, Jakl and the slaarh clashed and separated again. Calen tried to pull away from her, but she clamped her hands tighter around his. She was stronger than he was; she would make him listen and do as she said. She was right; he had to see that!

“Meg, no!” he shouted. “Even if I let you, what could I do? I don’t know how to kill it. I don’t know that kind of magic! Not yet!”

She opened her eyes and gazed at him with the full force of the confidence she felt shining in her heart, willing him to see how much she believed in him. “You can do it, Calen. I know you can. I’ll help you. We’ll do it together.” She watched him watching her, indecision and doubt warring on his face with the clear desire to do what she was asking him to do. She tried to make her own expression as open as his always was, tried to let him see the pain and hope and sorrow and hatred she felt swirling and twining like flames inside her.

And then suddenly his eyes widened and all the doubt fell away.

“Meg, no!” he shouted at her again, but this time something in his voice was different. “The other way,” he said. “The other way!
You
take
my
strength. Take mine, all I’ve got left, and combine it with yours, and give it to Jakl. Use your anger. Use everything! Give him fuel for his fire.”

She had only a moment to stare at him as understanding slammed into her, and then she quickly closed her eyes again as she felt him reverse what she’d been trying to do. She stopped pushing and
pulled
instead, feeling the energy begin to flow from Calen’s hands into her own.
This
was what he’d felt down in the dark corridor of the castle, this sudden strength and power . . . she shuddered with the intensity of it and then, quickly, before it could overwhelm her completely, she made herself a conduit, sending everything through the link and into her dragon.

She opened her eyes. Jakl was circling for another strike. This time, when he screamed in challenge, the sound was fiercer; there was a heat to his call that hadn’t been present before.
Please let it be enough,
Meg prayed silently. She thought it was. She could feel how strong he was now.
She
was that strong, too. Even though she was sending her strength through to him, the link made it circle back, looping between them, feeding into itself and making them both even stronger. She felt she must be radiating light and heat, blinding with intensity. It was impossible that this much power could remain contained within her flesh without spilling out into the air around her.

This time, instead of ramming himself into the monster’s side, Jakl reared back as he drew near and opened his mouth. Meg watched raptly and at the edge of her vision saw Calen turning his head to watch as well; as one, they took a long, deep breath to coincide with Jakl’s inhalation. For a moment everything seemed to hold still. And then a brilliant tongue of flame lashed out from the dragon’s powerful open jaws.

The slaarh jerked back in pain and fear. Sen Eva shouted something to it that Meg couldn’t hear over the lovely deep roar of the fire, but she saw the thing shift its dull gaze to where she and Calen were sitting. Jakl saw it too, and as before, the great awkward abomination could not match him for suppleness and speed. He darted forward and let loose another burst of flame, even greater than before, forcing the creature back and away. Then the dragon landed lightly on the tower top and placed himself firmly before Meg and Calen, daring the other creature to try to approach.

Meg needed to stand; she couldn’t bear sitting still with all the energy coursing through her. She released Calen’s hands and turned to share a triumphant look with him as she rose, but instead she saw him fall back against the stones, eyelids fluttering.

“Calen? Calen!” She dropped back to her knees and shook him, trying to stop him from losing consciousness completely. She looked to where Serek was lying nearby, but he only shook his head apologetically; no help there.

Frantically Meg peered around Jakl’s legs to make sure Sen Eva was still standing where she’d last seen her. They were at a standoff of sorts, she guessed. Sen Eva couldn’t hurt them with magic while the dragon protected them, and her creature couldn’t — or wouldn’t — attack again now that Jakl had burned it. Sen Eva seemed almost paralyzed by frustrated indecision, standing halfway between Jakl and Wilem.

Faintly, she thought he heard shouts from far below. Well, it made sense. Surely someone had noticed the two giant creatures fighting and screaming above the tower. Meg hoped the captain of the guard knew about the secret stairway to this place. It would be very convenient for lots of armed soldiers to arrive right about now.

Calen still appeared to be teetering on the edge of passing out entirely. Shaking didn’t seem to be accomplishing anything. Meg let go with one hand and then slapped him, hard, across the face.

“Ow,” he muttered weakly. She slapped him again, and again, and was rewarded with his eyes opening to tiny slits and finally seeming to focus on her. He tried to fend her off, flapping his hands at her feebly. She slid her hands under his arms and tried to lift him up.

“Meg?” he said. “Let me go. I’m tired.”

“No,” she said. “Come on, you have to get up. Stay with me. This isn’t over yet.” She tried again to lift him, but he was surprisingly heavy. They didn’t have time for this. “Calen, come
on
!” She lifted her hand to slap him one more time but his eyes fluttered open again, and he managed to raise one flimsy arm to fend off her swing. This time he really seemed to see her.

“Stop hitting me,” he said to her. “You’re so violent.”

She grinned and hugged him until he pushed her away. “Ow,” he said again. “Don’t forget, you’re very strong right now, okay? No squeezing, either.”

“Sorry,” she said, still smiling.

Calen struggled the rest of the way upright, and together they peered around the dragon. Noises came drifting up from below; those were definitely shouts, and getting closer.

“Is that the guards?” Calen asked. “Please let it be the guards. Lots and lots and lots of guards.”

Sen Eva looked toward the stairs, then threw one last, hateful look at Meg and Calen and abruptly turned and ran to where her monster was waiting. Surprisingly agile for someone using only one arm, she climbed up onto its disgusting back. Wilem watched her; he was still on the ground.