The Princess of Trelian (10 page)

Calen and Serek stood up, and Serek led Calen through the crowd to where the head mages sat waiting. Mage Brevera and his colleagues were standing before the table as well.

“Come with us, please, Apprentice Calen,” the man beside Mage Brevera said. Serek looked resigned, and Calen realized that Serek had known they would want Calen to go by himself. He threw his master a frantic look, but Serek only nodded at him firmly.

“Go on, Calen,” he said. “I will see you as soon as they have completed their work.” Serek stared fixedly at Mage Brevera when he said this last, and the other mage seemed as if he were going to say something in response but then thought better of it. Instead, the mage turned and led the way out through a narrow door behind the last row of tables. Calen followed, looking back once just before he left the room. Serek stood there, still looking in Calen’s direction, but whatever he was seeing was something else, his gaze directed inward. Calen turned back around to pass through the doorway. He felt a sudden chill as the door clicked shut behind him.

Q
UEEN MERILYN AND KING TORMON LOOKED
at each other grimly. Meg watched them and waited, unhappy to have had to bring them such troubling news. Jakl was still pushing at the barrier she’d put up, like a cat scratching at a closed door, clamoring for her attention.
Hold on,
she thought at him. She didn’t like how insistent he felt, agitated and impatient.
I’ll be there as soon as I can.

“I think you handled this well, Meg,” her father said, turning back to her. “Whether or not Wilem is telling the truth, the extra guard makes sense. And once Mage Serek returns, we can ask him to investigate the matter further.”

“Do you know when they’ll be back?” Meg asked. “Have you gotten any word?”

“No, Meg. I’m sorry. I am certain they will return as soon as they can, but you know there were many important things for the Magistratum to discuss.” He smiled at her gently. “I know you miss your friend, too.”

She smiled back, although she didn’t much feel like it. She did miss Calen, more than her father could guess. But it wasn’t like she didn’t understand. Of course Serek had important responsibilities. Calen, too. He couldn’t stick around here just to keep her company all the time. And really, she was glad he was getting some of the recognition he deserved. She hoped all the other mages were impressed with his special ability. She hoped he told them about the spells he’d refined, too, the techniques he’d worked out while they were trying so hard to get home, and then to get the evidence they needed against Sen Eva. Meg might not know much about magic, but even she could see that Calen was very talented. She saw the way Serek looked at him now, too, as if he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen Calen’s specialness sooner.

“I think it would be a good idea if you checked in with Wilem regularly,” her father went on. “I would prefer that he not need to send for you through the guards. And this way he will know we are keeping a close eye on him. And you’ll know right away if something changes.”

Meg tried to swallow her misgivings. If there was one thing she did not want, it was to see Wilem every single day.

“Of course, Father,” Meg said. “I will let you know the minute there is anything to report.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Meg.”

Her mother smiled at her, and being able to please her parents in this way was almost worth the unpleasant prospect of regular interaction with Wilem. They would see that she was perfectly capable of being the heir they wanted. She would show them, and the people of Trelian, and everything would be fine.

She stood up to take her leave, but as she opened her mouth to say good-bye, there was a sudden strange shifting in her head, followed by a wave of blinding pain. And then Jakl, flooding in, drowning her.

“Meg!” Her mother’s voice, no longer sounding very pleased. Both of her parents were on their feet. Meg realized she was back in her chair and had grabbed her head with her hands. Had she screamed? She didn’t think so. She was, however, moaning in pain. She clamped her mouth shut and tried to focus. This was certainly not helping anything.
Stop it, Jakl!
she thought at him, hoping her obvious dismay would make him back off. He was having none of it, though. With horror she realized she could feel him getting closer. Tired of waiting for her to come to him, he was coming to her instead.

Oh, no. No, no, no.
This was not good. Not good at all. And it still hurt. Gods, what was he
doing
to her?

Meg’s mother was reaching forward across the desk as her father came around, knelt before her, and placed his hands over hers, on the sides of her head. “Are you all right? What is it, Meg? Talk to me!”

“I’m okay,” she managed. With effort, she forced her face to relax, made herself ignore the pulsing pain. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. Sudden, uh, headache.”

“Is it —?” The king looked at the queen, and Meg knew what they were thinking. They were right, of course, but that didn’t make it any better.

“No, it’s not the link,” she lied. “It doesn’t work that way. And besides, Jakl would never hurt me. It’s just a headache. Maybe from not sleeping so well last night.”

They clearly did not believe this. She didn’t blame them. But she wasn’t about to give them the truth. “Meg —” her mother began.

“I’m fine, really.” She gently removed her father’s hands and stood up. “I just need some air. I’m sure I’ll feel better in a moment. Please.”

She fled, trying not to look as panicked as she felt, leaving her father still kneeling beside her vacant chair.

Stop!
she thought furiously at the dragon as she raced toward the garden.
Stop it right now, you gods-cursed thing! I’m coming — just wait!
It felt like he was ready to come right into the castle to find her.

And it still
hurt.
Why was he hurting her?

She kept running, one hand holding her head, the other hitching up her dress, ignoring the startled stares of those she passed in the halls. Finally she reached the garden doors and burst through them, eyes raised to the sky. Jakl was there, as she knew he would be, circling, screaming. People were running, terrified.

Wonderful.

He screamed again when he saw her. He was so
angry
— she’d never seen him like this. He dove toward her, and for just a second she was certain he was about to kill her. She stood her ground, too angry herself to be afraid and still unwilling to believe he would truly hurt her. Even though he
was
hurting her, still, now, every second. He crashed to the ground beside her, and she scrambled up on his back, wanting nothing but to get him away from here so they could have this out more privately. Whatever this was. This horrible flood of anger, flowing between them, feeding on itself with sickening intensity.

As soon as they were up again and moving away from the castle, she screamed back at him. “What is wrong with you?” She pounded her fists against his neck, knowing he could barely feel her blows but needing to strike out at him just the same. “Are you crazy? Are you trying to make everything even worse? Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it!”

She was crying now, she realized. From the pain and from the
wrongness
of it, that they were screaming at each other this way, that he could make her angry enough to hit him, that he could hurt her the way he was. She didn’t understand.

Slowly, Jakl seemed to come back to himself. She felt him take in her fear and pain along with the anger, and he seemed to grow a bit confused as he grew calmer. He circled again, angling toward a clearing, and set himself down as gently as he was able to. She was off his back at once, striding around to face him. He arched his neck back slightly to look at her. He was breathing heavily, exhausted from his furious flight and from the effort of holding back his fire. She realized suddenly that if he’d had a little less control, he might have set the whole garden ablaze. Or worse.

Oh, Jakl.

They stared at each other, abashed. She felt the anger drain from her and noticed suddenly that her head didn’t hurt anymore. Jakl lay his head flat in the grass and looked up at her in obvious apology. Meg sat beside him. “What
happened
?” she asked, stroking his neck. “What
was
that?”

He couldn’t answer, of course. She doubted he would have been able to explain, anyway. He seemed as confused as she was. Nothing like that had ever happened before. She was pretty sure it was not supposed to. Calen had never mentioned anything in his various warnings, and he usually tried to cover every conceivable thing that could ever possibly go wrong.

One more thing she’d need to ask him about when he got back.

Until then . . . She looked at Jakl and sighed. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I didn’t mean to stay away so long. There was an emergency. I knew you were waiting, and I was trying to come to you as soon as I could. But you can’t . . . I need you to try very hard not to get so impatient. You scared me. You scared a lot of other people, too.”

The waves of apology and shame coming at her through the link were getting overwhelming. “It’s all right,” she said gently. “Nothing really terrible happened. This time. But we need to make sure that never happens again. We both need to try very hard, all right?”

They sat that way for a while, Meg leaning her check against his neck, and then she climbed back up to let Jakl fly off the rest of their bad feelings. The rush of wind and speed, too fast for thought or fear, soothed them both, and finally she had him take them back toward the castle. The sun was getting low in the sky.

As he circled toward their usual landing spot, Meg noticed a lone horse racing toward the main gate. The rider was dressed in a courier’s uniform. As she watched, the courier pulled up at the gate, dismounted, and ran forward, not even pausing long enough for the waiting gate attendants to take the horse’s reins from him. The guards let him through without delay.

Meg felt a little knot of worry forming in her stomach. It must be bad news. The courier would hardly punish himself and his horse with such haste otherwise. Jakl tensed beneath her, sensitive to her sudden concern. “Don’t worry,” she whispered to him. “I’m sure it will be okay, whatever it is. It’s not anything you need to worry about.” She felt him relax again; perhaps he was just especially eager to please her after the craziness of that afternoon.

She slid from his back and hurried into the castle through the garden doors. Her parents usually received couriers in the small office adjoining the throne room. She headed there, a hundred different fears looming up inside her all at once.
Maybe something happened to Calen,
her mind whispered relentlessly.
Or to Serek, or to everyone at the Magistratum. Maybe there is trouble in Kragnir, maybe Maerlie is ill, maybe Morgan is ill, maybe more of those horrible monsters of Sen Eva’s have been spotted and they are heading this way. Maybe it is Sen Eva herself, returned at last, back to finish what she started.

She flew around the last corner and down the hall. She did not think her parents would mind her coming to hear what the courier had to say. This would be one of her princess-heir duties soon enough: receiving couriers and dealing with the news they brought.

She could hear voices as she approached. The courier was already reporting. It was a young woman, she realized, not a man; most couriers were male, but there were a few female riders as well. Meg hadn’t been able to tell from her distant vantage point. She was about to enter, ready to apologize for interrupting but also to ask permission to stay and listen. Then she heard the word
dragon.

Meg froze just outside the doorway.

“You’re certain?” the king was saying. “Absolutely certain?”

“The findings were pretty clear, Sire,” the courier replied. “Fires with no apparent cause, patches of scorched earth, and reports of a large creature seen flying overhead at night. There have been deaths, too. Not to mention severe damage to property and farmland. Something large and dangerous has certainly been making these attacks.”

“And Lourin is convinced that Meg’s — our — dragon is to blame?” The queen’s voice, almost too soft for Meg to hear.

The courier sounded apologetic. “No other dragons have been seen or heard of in so many years, Your Majesty. When the signs first began appearing, King Gerald was not sure what to make of them, but when he heard about Trelian’s dragon, he came to the logical conclusion.”

Logical!
There was no way Jakl could be responsible for the damage they were talking about. And certainly not for people’s deaths! She had a sudden, reluctant flashback to his behavior earlier today, his nearly uncontrollable anger . . . but she pushed it aside. She would know. If Jakl were flying off in the middle of the night and terrorizing nearby kingdoms, she would know. She would.

Unless . . . unless her nightmares were shielding her somehow. Distracting her from what Jakl was doing when she was not with him . . .

Unless she was having the nightmares
because
of what he was doing when she was not with him . . .