A Shade of Dragon 2

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Nell

I
still didn’t know
why the ice dragons had taken me. Only a few hours ago, it had been New Year’s night in Beggar’s Hole, Maine. My biggest problem had been being forced to attend my going-away party thrown by my former best friend, Michelle Ballinger, at her beach house. My only concerns at the time had boiled down to disrespectful comments made by college freshmen clutching red Solo cups. And now here I was… in the clutches of the terrifying dragon Lethe.

His savage grey-blue eyes bored into mine. His skin was as pale as porcelain, his hair coal black and straight as a blade, and his mouth cruel and bloodless. His face was void of compassion, not unlike the wasteland just outside the window.

“I don’t know anything!” I repeated, as his grip on me tightened. “I only just met Theon. He told me of The Hearthlands last night, Lethe.”

“
Prince
Lethe,” he corrected acidly. His fingers dug tighter into the flesh of my upper arms. “Prince Lethe Eraeus, of the Obran peninsula.”

“You can call yourself whatever you’d like. Call me Penelope O’Hara, Contessa of Sesame Street.”

Lethe’s face twisted, and his fingers banded around my wrists like iron. His touch was the exact opposite of Theon’s, which had been almost painfully hot; being near him had been like wandering into a steam bath. Lethe’s touch, however, was frosted. He felt as if he’d just come in from a snowstorm.

“If you love the fire dragons so much,” he hissed, “perhaps you will enjoy this reminder of them.”

Lethe exhaled plumes of ice crystals against my face, propelling me backwards. He let me go—and I stumbled into the fireplace. Hot, sudden pain erupted in the backs of my legs, and I whirled to witness my petticoats on fire. With a shriek, I lunged and rolled to smother the flames.

Still smoldering and gasping for breath, I peered up at Lethe from where I lay on the floor. He was laughing. “Tell me, Penelope,” he said, lowering down onto his haunches to gaze at me. “Will you miss your homeland? Your people? Would you be happy to live out the remainder of your days a slave to the ice dragon kingdom?”

The question caught me so off guard—the thought of never returning home—I stiffly shook my head and did not dare to get mouthy with him again.

“The king of the fire dragons is in our dungeon now.” Lethe examined his fingernails as he spoke. “The remainder of his people have fled into what is surely deadly weather. Even still—” Lethe winced and shrugged one shoulder. “Not all things are certain, and any information you might have regarding the methods, tactics, or plots of the fire dragons would be greatly appreciated. Perhaps, my lady, worthy of such a reward as your freedom.”

I racked my brain for any piece of misleading information I could give him. Maybe I could work this to my advantage—and help Theon while freeing myself.

“I know that, upon seeing his homeland so devastated, he proclaimed that he would never return to it,” I lied. “He told me that he would stay on Earth, among my people, and make a new life for himself. Carry on without fear; your rivals are all dead and gone.”

“That sounds like no fire dragon I know,” Lethe murmured, eyes panning away from me. They caught and hung, fixed just above the fireplace, and I followed his gaze.

The words
I’m coming
were scrawled across the wall in black ink, then faded and disappeared.

The vengeful prince turned with a pinched mouth. “You would deceive the gatekeeper between yourself and freedom for the lowly, deposed prince?” he asked, grabbing my arm and hoisting me back to my feet. His eyes raked along my face contemplatively. “Intriguing.”

My spine stiffened and my heart hammered in my chest. Did he mean—that the message was from Theon? Did he mean that Theon was coming?

Lethe knew that I had lied to him. Theon would never abandon me to imprisonment at the hands of his enemies.

Lethe’s eyes ticked toward the door. “I must go warn my father,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“No, Lethe. You don’t have to do anything. You could just… just let me go, and I wouldn’t tell anyone. Nothing would happen; I would just go home. If that message is from Theon—all he might want is me. Give him me, and he will leave.”

Lethe looked back at me and I could have sworn that his pale eyes softened.

“There are no real rules in life,” I urged.

“But… we can’t predict the future,” my father had said the night of Christmas Eve. “We just have to go on what we feel. There is no agreement on what ‘right’ is—like we’re playing a game without real rules.”

But Lethe shook his head, breaking my spell.

“You’re a woman, and a lover of the fire dragons. You cannot be trusted. You will say anything to emerge victorious. My father has warned me of your kind: humans and women alike. You are aware of your beauty, your softness, your comely sweetness—and you use it like a hook. I must go tell my father.” Lethe stood to vacate the room, but then turned back to me, and his cool blue eyes relaxed. “Don’t leave this room,” he commanded me, turning and sweeping from the premises.

Throughout the night, I had been watched, by the witch Thalissa and by Lethe, but I had not seen Thalissa in hours… and Lethe was leaving.

His words gave me pause. He had commanded me to not leave the room. As if I had some control over that.

I crept toward the heavy oak door. Was it possible that there was no one watching this door? Was it possible that, for whatever reason, Lethe had kept my existence a secret?

Drawing in a breath, I allowed my fingers to wrap around the brass doorknob and gave it a turn. The door fell open, and I poked my head into the hall.

A carpet in tones of brown, burgundy and gold lined the corridor; iron shields hung from the wall, chiseled with the insignias of noble houses. All was quiet.

No one was there.

I took a tentative step forward.

In my singed dress and no shoes, I would be unable to escape the castle and survive. But if I could find some shoes… a coat… Would I be able to find my way to that portal? Even if I did, I would be stranded on the freezing seas.

I was trapped.

“Hey, you there—what are you doing in the west wing?” a gruff voice called from behind me. I whirled, startled; a guard approached, clattering with armor, face hidden behind a blue fabric mask. “The chamber maids are scheduled to the guest—Hey! What happened to your frock there? Ya get too close…”

As he trod closer, his eyes widened with realization, and my shoulders tensed; my throat closed. He knew. He knew I was no ice dragon, much less a chamber maid. The mask came away from his face, and his mouth fell open, shards of ice and snow peeling out at me, sinking into my skin and coating my face.

I went flying onto my back, gasping up at the ceiling. I was frozen. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t move!

I was still stiff as the guard collected me into his arms, muttering about the perfect place for the likes of fire spies.

Theon

W
hile Michelle took
a nap on a cot in the sleeping quarters, I roamed the packed underground shelter. We had fire dragon allies away from The Hearthlands who could have come to help us in our plight, but what help could they offer? Besides the fact that their arrival would end up attracting unwanted attention from the ice dragons, we could barely shelter and feed those we already had here.

I turned my thoughts to the venture ahead of us: several days of travel through a hostile environment, then risky reconnaissance in the castle. We would need heavy layers of furs and leathers, enough food to last for two days—one for the trip in this tundra, and one for infiltrating the walls and finding safe houses—and naturally, weaponry.

I had only just arrived here—barely had the time to check that my mother was alive, my father was only imprisoned, my brother was missing, presumed amongst the many dead—and already, I was raiding the labyrinthian storage areas of the shelter in search of the pelt depository.

After loading up my leather satchel, I headed lower, into the arsenals. An ax for my back holster. A whip for my left shoulder. A shield for my exposed left forearm. A sword for my right hand. I turned to exit, wondering what the manpower at the castle was, and came up short at the sight of Einhen, one of the spiritual advisors who had lived in the palace itself.

His tired eyes swept over me and he summoned a smile. Patches of red and brown scruff were beginning to disguise his face. “Prince Theon, my friend.” He extended a hand and I shook it. “The last I knew of you, you were unaccounted for, somewhere in the lands beyond.”

“I came back last night,” I answered him. “I had gone to Earth to search for a future queen. I found the one—but, in my attempt to return with her, she was kidnapped by Lethe, the grandchild of the rebel, Bram.”

“Oh, gods, what have we done to offend you so?” he whispered, tilting his eyes upward.

“All is not lost.” I refused to acknowledge the possibility that this was, of all things, fate. “I have seen her since, in Lethe’s clutches at the castle. I must go to retrieve her and return her to her own land, away from this conflict. Then I will come back—and we shall have our kingdom returned. We have done nothing to offend the gods. They fight on our side, Einhen; I know it.”

Einhen grimaced. “Then it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you of the stars’ alignments. They are not conducive to our victory in a war; even the skirmishes shall be lost.”

The fire dragons had been military lords for the past half century. How could a small sect of ice dragons at the very tip of the island infiltrate and maintain its foothold, much like the icy thorn it was?

“You know that I trust the motions and maneuvers of the heavenly bodies,” I told Einhen. “Yet I contradict them today. We will persevere, Einhen, with the hearts and minds of good men at our disposal. We will find favor again.”

Einhen nodded. “Of course; it is the nature of a future king to believe the utmost of his people, and their abilities.”

I quirked a brow at him. “Would you be willing to join a small troop setting off this morning for the city? There are three of us. Myself, Khem, and a young woman—who is, in truth, as strategically-minded as any ice dragon, fully equipped with all the manipulation and brutality of their ilk.”

“You will need more. In a cosmic climate such as we find ourselves this cycle, it is unwise to travel without the aid of, at the very least, one seer.”

“Then you agree that you are the wise choice?”

Still, he hesitated. Many men of our priesthood were non-violent sorts who shied away from warfare, preferring quiet lives within temples or among the retinue of the king himself. Einhen had been living safely since his pubescence among the bone-casters and dream interpreters of the court of Erisard.

“Yes,” he said. “I will be faithful to your will until the end of the age. As long as the fire gods have graced the dynasty of Aena with leadership, I will trust them and you.”

To this, I bowed, clapped Einhen on the shoulder and asked him, “What will you carry into battle, should we find it necessary?”

I
went
to see my mother one final time. She was crumpled, seeming as frail as a dead bird, on one of the narrow cots in the women’s resting area. Michelle was in the very back of the resting area, having been one of the first women to claim a bed for herself—of course.

I knelt first at Mother’s cot. Her chest rose and fell deeply; she emitted the softest snore. Her hair fell over her face and obscured one eye from view. I did not wish to wake her. She’d likely been asleep for only an hour or two; if I woke her, the odds were decent that she would simply stand, dress, and begin her day anew. I was positive she had been awake all night.

“I love you, Mother,” I whispered, touching her shoulder and leaning to grace one cheek with a kiss.

She murmured and turned deeper into her pillow.

“I will return to you.” With that, I wove between the other cots, traveling deeper into the small nest of slumbering fire dragon females—none under the age of forty—until I reached our single visitor, Michelle Ballinger.

She was sprawled proudly over the cot, like a mountain lion across a flat, sun-drenched rock. The blanket someone had given her had been kicked onto the floor, and she was snoring loudly enough that the cots surrounding her had been vacated, creating a halo of empty beds to frame hers.

I was not nearly so gentle with her. Leaning down, I gave her shoulder a shake. “Lady Ballinger.”

Her snore stammered and resumed.

“Lady Ballinger!”

Michelle’s sooty, smudged eyes popped open and narrowed to slits. “What?” she snapped.

“We must be off,” I informed her testily. “If you would rather stay here, I understand. When I return in two to three days’ time, I will take you to the portal and return you home safely. Would you prefer to continue your nap?”

Michelle sat up straight and examined me from beneath lowered, spiky lashes. “I’m sure you’d love that. But I think I will come. Just let me get my shoes back on.”

Sighing, I turned and rooted in the satchel for the fur I’d commandeered for her: a large stole comprised of bright copper and black pieces stitched together.

I should’ve pretended I wanted her to come. Then her contrary nature would not have allowed it, and she would have declined the invitation to join us. Just look at her. Back on Earth, she’d had the world splayed at her feet. She was the heiress of two palaces of her own. But did she desire them? No. She thrust off her destiny and stowed away in mine, craving bloodshed and battle for some inexplicable reason.

“Here,” I said, draping the furs over her shoulders.

“Ew!” she cried, nose wrinkled.

“These furs will keep you from freezing to death.”

Her countenance brightened; her hands moved to stroke the pelt. “Legit furs?” she purred. “Thank you, Theon.”

“I will have failed to return you home if you return home as a corpse.” She pouted, but I didn’t have the time for it. “I’m off to find Khem.” Khem was one of the Aena court, and he worked in mechanics. He had invented a few useful gadgets in his tenure at the palace—but, of course, they were all at the disposal of the ice dragons, now. When he’d met Michelle, he had treated her like the princess she thought she was. Michelle had insisted that he come, naturally. She couldn’t travel without some food for her ego.

B
y the time
Einhen wore his mantle and cap of bear fur, Khem carried the shield of his house, I’d all but forced Michelle to eat leftovers of the breakfast stew before we left, and the satchel slung over my back brimmed with furs, weapons, and food, lunch was already being prepared.

We didn’t speak as we left behind the light and noise of the shelter’s cavernous foyer. The tunnel which led above ground was claustrophobic, as the earthen walls smothered all sound and surrounded us in darkness.

It was only when we reached the wide wooden door, set into the ceiling which now crowded down against us, that any of us attempted to communicate. We all went still and exchanged glances. “It may have sealed shut again with ice,” I said. I wondered if Einhen and Khem had even seen what was out there. “It appears that the ice dragons now have control of the weather itself.”

“We know,” Khem replied, morose. “When we were driven from the city, it was a bright day. But after settling into the shelter, when we moved to return and gain information, we opened this door to the most dangerous storm of wind and ice we had ever seen.”

“And that is why you’ve stayed?” I wondered, preparing my sword to spear the slat between the door and the ceiling, cracking the ice which might have formed in the nighttime hours. “For fear of the environment?”

“We have stayed because the queen willed it so,” Einhen said.

At this, I grimaced and nodded. I was glad that she had not seen me leave.

I slammed my shoulder into the door, sending it upward against the shattering ice formed atop it.

The world outside was a blistering white.

The sun had risen a quarter into the sky. Had our days somehow lengthened? Was it not noon? Sunshine filtered onto us as pale and cold as reflections on water, trapped behind its sheen of cloud. The snow, powdery and crisp, lifted to our upper knees and thighs.

“All right,” I said. “Let’s go.”

W
e moved
through the tundra under the shadow of clouds and trees for hours. There was no shelter; we ate as we traveled, exposed to the elements and any roaming predators. I passed Michelle a bun of wheat, and this time she did not balk. She grabbed the food and tore into it like a beast as we walked. I felt a twinge of victory at this—like the pride of a parent who had finally broken the tantrum of a willful toddler.

It was a short-lived feeling.

“Where the hell are we?” Michelle demanded, looking to me for the answer. “You don’t even have a map, Theon.”

“I hunted with my father in these wildlands for an entire season every year while the women harvested,” I explained, my voice patient with superiority. “My brother and I would chase each other on horseback through these fields, and hide in its hidden wells; I know it better than I know myself.”

Michelle grimaced, but relented. “I could go for one of those horses right about now,” was all she said.

Her gaze moved to Einhen next. He’d shown no interest in her since the voyage began, so he had unwittingly become her latest target. “Why do you keep doing that?” she asked, gesturing to his face, tilted up toward the opaque sky.

“There are fleeting slivers of stars revealed when the clouds part,” he answered her, not turning from the sky, blinking away snowflakes. “I’m trying to see the planets to verify what I believe is happening.”

“And what is that?” Michelle asked sweetly.

“Their positions have altered inexplicably.” His voice was low, almost inaudible over the wailings of the wind. “Like returning to a room to find that the chess pieces on the board have been rearranged.”

“That is riveting.” Michelle paused to let her insincerity sink in. “How long do we have before we reach the city?” I had stopped counting how many times she had asked.

“I see the spires of the watchtowers now,” I informed her tersely. “We will be at the gates within the hour if we do not stop.”

Michelle had been insisting we stop as many as three times per hour so that she could cuddle with Khem and warm up again.

“I don’t see anything,” Michelle retorted. “I don’t see any watchtowers.”

“Your eyesight is inferior to that of a fire dragon. The watchtowers are there. Why would I lead myself and two trusted companions into a frozen wasteland with no destination other than death?”

“Oh, so, I’m, like, not trustworthy?” Michelle shrilled. I whirled on her, but she didn’t shrink back, even though she was almost a foot smaller and less than half my weight. “You were the one who showed up at my house and invited me!”

“Because the damned Oracle forced me!” I bellowed. “Do you think I would choose, for a mission as crucial as the life of my beloved and the safety of my kingdom, the accompaniment of a spoiled, vain concubine?”

Michelle’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Her eyes glazed over, and she settled back onto her heels and closed her mouth. She turned from me and continued to trudge through the snow.

I’d done it. I’d finally shut her up.

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