The Saint of Dragons (13 page)

W
HAT LAY BETWEEN THE
Venetian and his plans, of course, was Aldric St. George and his son.

The Ship with No Name burrowed through the icy ocean with a creaking in its wooden bones that sounded like pure misery. It was nighttime, and the stars seemed to breathe down a cruel blast of chilly air.

But the sea was merciful tonight. Over the past few days, the ship had gone through storms that seemed to last for years. The chill got into Simon’s lungs and into his bones, and chipping ice from the rigging had become a nearly constant chore. Simon shivered in the wind. The Coast of the Dead was well defended by the elements. The ship had not even come within sight of it yet.

In his off hours, Simon had learned a good deal about the Dragon of Venice. Alaythia had been reading from the Venetian’s own notes on the Dragonmap, and the creature was the essence of evil. It boasted of drowning countless sailors in Venice over the years. It claimed to have stolen from the city’s treasures for ages.
Now it seemed the Beast wanted more. It wanted to destroy millions of people, and perhaps, as soon as it could manage it, the entire world.

What disturbed Simon most was that the Dragonmap had begun behaving strangely. The European portion of it now rippled with waves of light. “The map shows you the flow of magic on the earth,” Aldric had told him. “Something has thrown it into chaos, and it’s spreading….” They assumed it was the Venetian who had done this, but what it all meant was not yet clear. Simon knew only one thing for certain: They had to stop him.

He heard steps behind him, and Alaythia walked out of the darkness. “Come inside where it’s warm,” she said. “I’ve got some Celtic tea for you. Special recipe.”

Simon took her up on the offer, but the hot drink seemed to have been made with melted cheese, old coffee grounds, moldy Hershey bars, and cajun spices. The steam from it smelled like Armageddon.

Aldric refused to drink any, lighting a pipe instead.

Alaythia pretended not to see his reaction. It seemed to Simon that she chose not to notice a lot of things.

For his part, Simon forced himself to drink the tea, to be polite. He looked down at his cup. He could swear there was cabbage floating in it.

He amused himself by watching Fenwick search around the galley, snapping at the little white mouse, chasing it. The two hadn’t been getting along.

Aldric looked up from his book. He let the hunt go on for several minutes and then finally barked out loudly for Fenwick to go outside and take up watch. The fox bared its teeth, but finally
crawled up onto the mast and stared out at the sea for danger.

Aldric looked at the mess the fox had made. “There are times, even after all these years, when I miss your mother,” Aldric said to Simon. “She knew how to run a ship.”

Simon turned to see Alaythia’s reaction. She seemed hurt at first, but in a moment she looked like she might laugh it off.

Aldric settled back into his chair thoughtfully, his mind a thousand miles away. “This was never an easy way to live,” he said. “But with a wife, it used to be tolerable. Of course, she had the powers on her side. A flick of the wrist, and anything you want could be found in the cupboard. No stopping in London for a packet of Earl Grey, or Bombay for a dash of curry. If you needed it, she could have it for you in an instant.”

Simon was startled. “Wait a minute. You mean my mother was a Magician?”

Aldric looked away. “One of the best in the world. The name Maradine was known in the realm of Dragons. They hated her with every fiber of their existence, I can tell you that.”

Simon felt tricked. “Why didn’t you tell me Maradine was my mother?”

Alaythia leaned against the galley sink, listening.

Aldric sighed. “There’s no sense dredging up the past. It’s not my favorite topic of conversation.”

“Well, what is?”

Aldric glared at the boy. “These are the rules of a time long past. A Knight is paired with a Magician, they protect each other all of their days. It’s never wise for a Knight to fall in love with a Magician—there are too many risks. Your mother and I went against this, but we knew what we were doing. Look, I don’t see
how it profits you now to learn this.”

Alaythia seemed especially interested. “All Magicians are women?”

“It so happens they are, yes,” said Aldric, refilling his pipe, avoiding her eyes. “And when they fall in love, it becomes something they cannot hide from a Serpent. They become vulnerable. Emotion that strong is dangerous. A Serpent can sense these feelings a world away; it makes a Magician easy to find. It’s like a beacon, you know. Maradine…was…” He made his voice firm again. “The White Dragon found us at sea, and set fire to the ship. She was the last of her kind.”

Simon didn’t really want to know more.

Aldric looked at Alaythia. “She was the last. The Magicians who could help draw the power out of you are long gone—whatever it is you’re experiencing, it is nothing but the echo of old magic. It’s some last bit of energy that rolled past you when you were young, like a fire that sparks to life for a brief moment before it goes out. You were touched by some special power—I don’t know what—but it isn’t going to last us long.”

Simon watched as Alaythia considered this. “What if this power, whatever it is, runs out just when we need it?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been let down by one thing or another,” said Aldric.

Simon muttered back at him, “
You’ve
been let down?”

Suddenly there was a clattering, as if someone were tapping on the ship’s wood from outside.

Then there came a muffled calling from the deck—the strange yowl of a fox.

Fenwick had spotted something.

A
LDRIC RUSHED TO THE
deck.

As Simon followed, he was met by the chilled ocean air. Above him lay a dazzle of stars in the black sky and Fenwick, high up in the mast. The fox was calling in alarm.

“What does he see?” asked Alaythia, pulling on a coat as she came up.

Aldric held his arm out to quiet her. Across the blackness of the night tide things were moving in on them. All Simon saw at first was a flash of white in the moonlight. They were moving fast, whatever they were. His eyes tried to get a fix on them, but the blanket of night hid the things from view.

Fenwick didn’t need to see any more. He scurried down the mast and sped for the cabin, no doubt looking for his hiding place in the hold.

“It knows we’re here,” said Aldric, furious. “The Dragon. There’s something on this ship. Something told him we were here.”

He looked first at Alaythia, then his eyes swept the deck, searching for the cause. Simon could see him taking on his warrior focus, as intense as a chess player.

“Maybe we’re just getting close to the lost book,” Simon said, “We’re getting close to the Coast of the Dead. You said it’s protected—”

“We’re not close enough for that. Something’s here,” the knight said. “Some kind of device. He’s watching every move we make.”

He snatched Simon’s satchel and began throwing things out of it.

“What are you doing?” Simon asked.

“We have to hurry,” said Aldric, and he grabbed hold of the Dragonmap. “This could be how he locates us.”

“Don’t throw that over, we may need it!” pleaded Simon.

“Whatever’s out there is getting closer,” said Alaythia.

Simon pulled at the map. “This is a spying device!” growled Aldric.

Suddenly, Simon realized it wasn’t. He knew exactly where the spy was. “It’s not this,” he told Aldric. “It’s in there!” He ran for the cabin of the ship.

Simon burst into the galley, only to find Fenwick rushing to get hold of the white mouse. The fox’s paws finally stomped the mouse’s tail, and Simon grabbed the little traitor.

Running topside, Simon flopped the slippery mouse into his father’s hands. “I took it from Venice,” he said. “It’s a spy.”

The mouse squirmed madly in Aldric’s grip and bit into the man’s hand. Aldric lost hold of the rodent and it spun over the rail, dropping off the ship. As it fell, it glowed with white light—and vanished before it hit the foam.

“Where are they?” whispered Alaythia, searching seaward for the shapes that were there a moment before.

Simon shivered as the wintry air got colder, and he peered out at the calm, dead ocean. He thought he caught sight of a slashing tail in the dark, but it was hard to tell, his imagination running wild.

He moved forward, his eyes frantically covering the half-frozen waters. All around, huge chunks of ice floated on the night ocean. As he moved for a better look, he almost slipped on the icy deck. His hands grabbed for the ship’s rail, and his bare skin stuck tight to the metal.

Again he heard rumbling on the ship’s stern.

“What was that?” he asked.

Aldric leaned over the side. “I’m not sure.”

Simon pulled at his hands. They were not budging.

The rumbling hit the ship again. Now it seemed that whatever caused the sound was scraping the bottom of the boat.

“Stay where you are,” said Aldric nervously, searching around the ship.

“I’m not going anywhere,” answered Simon, his hands frozen to the rail.

The wind had died completely. No other ships could be seen on the waters. Only icebergs drifted about, great and small. It was a lonely picture.

“We’re dead in the water,” said Alaythia. “We’ve got to get the ship moving again. Let me tend to the rigging.” Before Aldric could say a word, Alaythia was climbing to the sails. But she had no time left.

Suddenly the ship was struck again. Burring through the
moonlit sea was an ice-blue shape that looked something like a shark. As it scraped along the side of the ship, Simon realized that it was not the real thing, but an ice carving that looked and moved like a shark.

Its angry, sculpted face swam past them and sunk below water.

“What is it?” wondered Simon.

“Dragon magic,” Aldric said.

More of the sharks began swimming toward the ship. Simon still couldn’t move. He watched with fascination, but as the sharks battered the side of the ship, cracking and splintering off part of their bodies, Simon was nearly hit by flying shards of ice.

“Wretched magic!” cried Aldric. He loaded up his crossbow.

The icebergs nearby squealed with a frightful noise, as ice calved off the frigid masses. As the ice hit the water, it formed into new sharks. Soon the ocean was dotted with fast-moving ice sharks attacking the boat.

Again and again they rammed the ship, coming from every angle. Some of the ice sharks hit so hard they shattered completely, and tiny ice sharks were formed from the remnants of the bigger ones. The tiny sharks joined the larger in pummeling the Ship with No Name.

Aldric fired arrows but kept missing. The sharks were too fast.

“Get us going!” bellowed Aldric.

Alaythia swayed from the mast, trying to unfurl a sail as the ship shuddered from the attacks. “I’m trying!” she called.

“I can’t do this alone!” Aldric yelled. “Simon, what the devil are you doing?”

Simon was trying not to lose his life. His hands wouldn’t pull free from the rail. The sharks were leaping up out of the water,
snapping at him. Every time the sharks hit the ship, ice splinters, sharp and savage, would cascade over the deck, cutting Simon’s face.

“Simon, get below!” yelled Aldric from the other side of the ship. “It’s too dangerous up here!!”

One of Aldric’s arrows found its mark—and an ice shark was split in two! Now that same shark became
two
sharks, which swerved angrily for Aldric.

Simon had pulled one arm free, tearing the skin of his hand. He couldn’t do that again. Quickly he pulled an arrow from the quiver at his side and held it to one of the torches mounted on the ship’s railing. Then he moved the flaming arrow, to burn away the ice that held his hand.

Just at that moment, the two infuriated ice sharks leapt at Aldric’s face. The first came within an inch of him. Before its nasty ice teeth could crush him, Simon fired his crossbow into the shark’s nose. Its face shattered, and the force of the blow sent it reeling back into the water.

Simon had saved his father’s life.
But the joy of this vanished like vapor.

The second shark had hit the deck—shattering into dozens of tiny ice sharks snapping their icy jaws. They flopped about on deck, trying to get to Aldric’s legs.

Simon stabbed at them with his sword. He batted them off the deck, smashing them into the water. One of the little fish-monsters sunk its teeth into his ankle. It was like getting caught in a vise grip studded with needles! The icy jaws clamped onto Simon’s leg, forcing him to pull it free, painfully.

Above him he could see Alaythia fighting to free the sails and
get them into position. Everything had gone wrong with the magic that ran the ship. Rigging was fouled up, machinery failed, and the wind had grown weak.

Simon kicked loose the vicious little ice-shark, but in doing so he slipped, sliding across the tilting deck to plunge directly into the ocean. He screamed from the cold.

Below him a huge ice-shark was just pulling itself out of the sea. He grabbed hold of its dorsal fin so it couldn’t get its jaws around him. Now the shark was thrashing, trying to get at Simon.

Aldric was yelling for Simon to grab hold of a line he was throwing out. The rope missed Simon—and the boy went speeding through the water on the back of the shark, hanging on for dear life.

“Help me!” he shouted—but in the midst of his panic he felt a thrill, an exhilaration. He was holding on to a shark!

Other sharks were closing in around him. Simon gripped the icy fin. Then, just as the shark he was riding on swooped past the ship again, Simon leapt away, snatching onto Aldric’s rope.

Aldric yanked him aboard as three sharks at once snapped at Simon’s heels.

Simon laughed out of pure fear—tumbling onto the deck, into Aldric’s arms. He could feel his father’s heart beating in terror for him. Aldric looked into his eyes, made sure he was all right. Then he pulled loose and rushed for the rail to fight off the relentless sharks, who were still battering the ship.

High up on the mast, Alaythia closed her eyes, deep in concentration, and reached out to let loose the sails. She whispered to herself, a kind of prayer, a wish, a mantra, all in one.

Below her Simon lay on the icy wood, rubbing his freezing body. “Somebody do something!” he cried. “Can’t this pathetic ship go faster?!”

And then it did.

The sails Alaythia struggled with now opened. The wind swept over the ocean and fell into the canvas like a stampede of horses. The deck lurched under Simon.

The ship gathered up all its strength and charged forward, shooting through the swarms of ice sharks up ahead and blasting past the ones beneath it. Soon it had put them all behind. It was speeding over the ocean like never before.

Simon was awed. Aldric moved in to check the shark bite on Simon’s ankle. He waved his father off. “I’m all right.”

“You’ll have to be, for now.” He called to Alaythia, still high in the rigging.

Her eyes remain closed, her body fixed to the mast like a wooden sculpture. She was nearly in a sleep state, terrified to open her eyes. “Are we through it?” she said. “I’m afraid to move.”

“Yes. We’re through it,” called Aldric.

“We were grinding right through them,” gasped Simon. “I think I saved your life back there.”

Aldric raised an eyebrow. “That’s your view of things, is it?”

“I
saved
your life,” Simon said, resentfully. “You can’t take this away from me.”

“You endangered
yourself
,” said Aldric. “You put yourself at unnecessary risk. You have a
duty
to stay alive. You have a duty to follow my lead. I can take care of myself.”

Simon was speechless—furious at his father for ignoring what he’d done.

“And we’re not through this yet,” said Aldric, turning to the horizon. “We’re moving too fast. We’re out of control.”

It was true. The ship was cutting the ocean like scissors through silk. With incredible speed, it was rushing for land—a jagged ice formation up ahead.

Simon reached to brace himself.

Aldric shook his head with worry. “I was wrong. We
are
close to that godforsaken place. The ship’s gone mad.”

Simon reacted without a word. The ship’s magic was beyond his understanding.

“We’ve got to get her down,” said Aldric, heading for Alaythia.

“I don’t need help,” she said, hurrying down the ice-coated mast.

Simon felt a rush of fear for her as the ship tilted. Her feet slipped. She grabbed for a hold on the mast, barely escaping a fall.

Simon’s heart shook. “
Help her
,” he told his father.

Aldric started up, but Simon knew it was too late. The ship was rushing for the glacial territory, and in the next breath it had slammed into the icy coastline.

Everyone rocked from the impact. The ship rammed into the ice, spitting off the frost in its sails, canvas clattering with windy rage. Simon was thrown sideways, away from his father. He slid across the deck, sweeping painfully over the ice, to hit the cabin door. It struck like a boxer’s punch at his back.

Knocked breathless, he saw his father tumble over the railing. Alaythia fell from the mast, grabbing it again just before she would have hit the ground. Her scream shot across the snowy land.

Everything on the ship creaked and groaned, and then was silent.