The Crown and the Dragon (14 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Elenn watched, horrified, as the two shambling monsters approached. Remembering the thing that called itself Naihman on the road near Anondea, her mind swam with questions.

Was one of these two that same creature? Had it been following her this whole time? What were they—demons? Was the Falarica alone enough to banish them as Ethelind had done, or was some particular spell or ritual required? Since they had formed out of flocks of crows, could they be killed with something so mundane as Aedin’s sword?

Elenn reached into her stained and torn clothing to put her hand on the Falarica’s wooden case. She also drew her Sithian dagger. Gritting her teeth, she stepped forward, determined to protect the precious artifact that had been placed in her care.

Aedin shoved her behind him. “No time for foolish bravery,” he barked.

Ethelind would have said the same thing, Elenn thought. And then she would have done something brave and foolish.

He charged the nearest of the monsters. As he reached it, he ducked and slid under its outstretched talons, slashing at its unprotected belly with his long cavalry saber. As his sword passed into the monster’s body, it burst apart into a flock of ravens which cawed angrily and swirled above their heads.

Her heart leaped. It had dispersed—just like the monster on the road, when Ethelind had used the Falarica.

Aedin flashed her a grin. “That’s a piece of luck.”

She smiled back, but the other monster was advancing on Aedin. Despite the ease with which he had dispatched the first, the second showed no sign of fear. Why?

Aedin and the second monster approached each other. Above them, the ravens again spiraled down into a column of oily smoke—this one behind Aedin’s back.

“Look out!” she cried.

When Aedin turned to look, the second monster screeched and lashed out at him with its talons. Aedin tried to duck out of the way, but received a gash on his sword arm. He cursed, loudly, as he now faced both monsters again.

Elenn cursed, too—quietly. There must be some way for her to help. She briefly considered her dagger, but as she lifted it she heard Aunt Ethelind’s voice in her head, telling her not to be stupid. Her greatest weapon was her mind. She shoved the dagger back into her belt.

What did she know about the monsters? Ethelind had told the other one that this was not its world. But they were made of crows. They could break apart and reform again. Even before the monsters had coalesced, the crows had been behaving strangely. There was something unnatural at work—some power behind them, driving them.

Conjuring, Ethelind always said, was all about imposing your will on the world around you. The bigger the change you wanted to make, the more difficult it was. The world always pushed back, reasserting the existing order.

As her mind raced, Elenn’s fingers absently traced the tiny bronze figure of the sea nymph on the outside of the case.

“Elenn!” called Aedin.

She looked up and saw him on the ground, scooting backwards towards her. He still held his sword and was awkwardly trying to slash at the monsters, but they were not deterred. They glided toward him eagerly, screaming their horrible cries.

With her left hand wrapped protectively around the Falarica case, Elenn reached out with her right. She made the sign of the Leode by interlocking her middle two fingers and spreading the rest out like the branches of a living tree.

“You are birds,” she said aloud, staring at the two monsters. “You can’t walk. You can’t talk. You can’t hurt us. You are crows—chattering, obnoxious, stupid crows.”

The monsters stopped in their tracks. Aedin pushed himself out of their reach and rose to his feet with some difficulty.

One of the monsters took a step forward, but they both seemed suddenly unsure of themselves. Within their cloaks, Elenn thought she could see them quaking—or convulsing slightly, as if they were losing control of their bodies.

“You are crows,” repeated Elenn, emphatically, “not monsters. You can’t hurt us.”

“Of course they can,” said Aedin, incredulously. “Were you not watching?”

The monsters again advanced, cawing and cackling. “We know what you carry,” one of them said, in a coarse voice that echoed like a tomb. “Give it to us.”

“They talking about what I think?” asked Aedin, standing between Elenn and the monsters with his sword drawn.

“You are birds!” shouted Elenn, ignoring Aedin for the moment. “You are silly black crows, and you will fly away and find some other shiny thing to look at. You can’t walk, you can’t talk, you can’t hurt us!”

“Elenn—”

“Not now!” she hissed.

The monsters again halted in their tracks and seemed to waver.

“Birds!” declared Elenn. “You are naughty birds, and you are caught!” She flung her right hand out as if she were casting a net, like a fisherman or a Vitalion duelist.

Both of the monsters screeched and burst apart, but this time the flocks of ravens did not fly away. Instead, many of the birds fell to the ground as if tangled up in invisible netting.

Without waiting to see what would happen, Elenn darted forward past Aedin, and past all the birds struggling to free themselves from her illusory nets. Behind her, she heard him limping along as fast as he could.

“Magic?” he yelled.

“Were you not watching?” Elenn yelled back, running as fast as she could.

Aedin called for her to stop, but she ignored him. Ahead of her were the cataracts, a series of cliffs and waterfalls where the River Mareys crashed down from the mountains of Ghel into the Riverlands. Aedin had said that there were caves here behind the cataracts, where they could safely hide, but she didn’t know where, or how to reach them.

Elenn reached the edge and looked out, taking great care to keep her balance. To her left was the River Mareys, wide and strong and rushing down to the waterfalls, which stretched out almost a half mile. It was not one great fall, but dozens of them, as the water cascaded down the broken face of the cliffs. Directly below her, Elenn could see a relatively calm pool of water, but it was a sixty foot drop, and the pool emptied into another waterfall that dropped almost a hundred feet. Looking to her right, she saw no path, no way down.

Elenn turned around, and saw Aedin catching up.

“How do we get to your caves from here?” she said.

“We don’t,” he said angrily. “Wrong part of the cliff.”

“But—was it—did I—?” Elenn struggled to get out the words, both wanting and not wanting to know if she was the one responsible for leading them astray.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Aedin. “Look.” He jerked his head back behind him.

The ravens had freed themselves, and were again swirling in two great clouds. Soon, the monsters would be upon them again.

“Got any more magic tricks?” Aedin asked.

“Just one,” said Elenn. She backed up about twenty feet, and then ran to the edge of the cliff and jumped off.

As she plunged downward through the air, Elenn heard Aedin yell, “That’s not magic!” And in spite of the danger of the situation, she smiled.

Then she hit the water.

Her world went black.

Sometime later, Elenn opened her eyes and found that she was underwater. It was cold. But it was beautiful. The morning light shone through the water—rose, and orange, and pink. It was like being inside the awakening dawn, except that she felt a tremendous weight crushing her as if she were in a vice.

She couldn’t remember how she got underwater. Had she been unconscious? That seemed like a reasonable explanation. Elenn had thought landing in the water would be soft, but it had kicked her in the chest like a draft horse. It didn’t really hurt now, which was odd.

She felt a hard surface at her back, and something pressing against her from the front. She decided that the pressure was from the water rushing out of the pool into the next waterfall, and the hard surface was a large stone. She could feel her arms fanning at her side, trying to push her up and out of the water, but to little effect. Elenn thought that this was probably just as well, since if she were to rise up, she would probably be carried over the falls and into the next pool, which she might not survive.

Elenn heard a loud splash and saw a great rush of bubbles spearing down from the surface. The water was not very clear, but it was not difficult to guess that this was Aedin jumping off the cliff into the pool. She watched him thrashing around in the water, struggling to reach the surface. He was certainly very animated, whoever he was.

Elenn wanted to open her mouth to call out to him and tell him that all was well, but her mouth was busy making slow gulps over which she had little control. Her legs simply hung limp. And her arms were likewise unresponsive, doing nothing but fanning up and down. This was unfortunate, because Elenn wanted to hand the Falarica to Aedin.

She remembered being very angry that morning when she had caught him looking at it. There had been a good reason, but it no longer seemed important. The only important thing was to get the Falarica to the Fortress of the Leode, as Aunt Ethelind had intended. Elenn thought Aedin would do that if she asked him.

As she thought about the Falarica, she felt it stir in the case inside her clothing. Perhaps the little bronze sea nymph on the outside of the case wanted to swim out into the pool and enjoy herself.

She heard someone calling her name. Where was it coming from? Who was calling for her? And what was the hurry? She had been running all morning, and now it was pleasant to simply bob peacefully under the water.

In the water, she now saw a woman who looked vaguely familiar. Elenn smiled. Perhaps this was the person who had been calling her name.

The woman smiled back and swam closer to Elenn. Her hair was long. She was unclothed. The woman reached out and touched the Falarica. The water began to glow, and Elenn felt a pleasant warmth.

The woman opened her mouth and a flood of bubbles emerged, which filled the water. As the bubbles surrounded Elenn, she heard singing. Although she only saw one woman, she heard a chorus—haunting, beautiful, ethereal, and all in perfect harmony. Maybe every bubble had a song inside. She couldn’t understand the words, but she was able to hear her perfectly well, as though they were both above the water.

The light began to fade, and Elenn’s vision narrowed. But in the darkness, she saw numerous figures swimming around her, like water angels. She decided that she no longer wanted to ascend to the sky when she died. She wanted to sink slowly down into the water and join this lovely choir. Perhaps she would find Aunt Ethelind.

Her eyes closed, and Elenn felt herself descending, floating down to heaven. It was a warm, wonderful, comfortable feeling.

A strong arm wrapped tightly around her neck, roughly dragging Elenn upward. She tried to resist but had no strength. She was forcibly jerked up and out of the water. Her face scraped against rough stone, and someone was pounding her furiously on the back and shouting at her.

Elenn felt cold. Her head spun, and she couldn’t understand where she was or what was happening to her. All she knew was that she had been abruptly wrenched from paradise into a barbaric nightmare of yelling and hitting.

She opened her mouth to protest, and her whole body shook with a violent spasm as she vomited what seemed like gallon after gallon of river water. Every part of her body hurt, inside and out. Her chest heaved, and with indescribable burning pain, Elenn breathed.

“Thank the Gods!” cried Aedin, and he cradled her like a baby as she lost consciousness for the second time in less than five minutes.

***

Chapter Twenty

Aedin pinched her cheeks, but Elenn did not wake. She was cold as a stone, but still shivering, which meant that her body was still fighting against the water’s chill. He had to warm her up. She had been under a long time, and she looked deathly pale—even in the dim light of the cave.

Her wet clothes weren’t helping, but knew she wouldn’t be happy to wake up naked, given everything that had happened to her. Rotten, stinking Leif. And me, too, he thought. Never should have left the two of them alone.

Fire would provide heat, but it was dangerous. The cave had a natural vent somewhere, but the liquid curtain of the waterfall kept out most of the good air. Smoke would accumulate if he was not absolutely vigilant.

As he retrieved the flint and firewood that he had stashed here months ago, he wished that Elenn’s little songbird had not been lost. Watching the bird would have let him know if the air was going bad—a trick he had learned from brothers and cousins slaving in the mines for the Scales, fearing the chokedamp even more than their brutal masters.

After the fire was lit, Aedin dug a homespun wool blanket out of his cache, along with a couple of wolf skins. Aedin sniffed them. The dampness of the cave had not been good for them, but as far as he could tell they were free of fleas and lice. Laying down the skins near the fire, he set Elenn down on them and covered her with the rough blanket.

The fire was growing a bit large, so he removed two sticks. The stones near the fire were starting to warm, so he laid his own wet clothing there to dry. Shivering in his underclothes, he returned to the cache. The only thing left was a stained and threadbare linen tunic more Elenn’s size than his own. With difficulty, he tugged it on.

Stamping his feet and briskly rubbing his hands and arms to get the blood flowing, Aedin looked down at Elenn. In her tossing and turning, she had pushed off the blanket.

“Not what you’re accustomed to, Lady Adair,” muttered Aedin, “but they might save your life, so you’re just going to have to put up with the stink.”

He put the blanket back on her and lay down behind her and held her tight. She struggled weakly for a few minutes, but eventually slipped into a deeper sleep. He stayed beside her, thinking of the path ahead and getting up periodically to tend to the fire. When her warmth returned, perhaps an hour later, he got up and left her sleeping.

Aedin sat down and examined his sword and the two daggers. He wiped the blades clean and dry, and did the best he could with the scabbards. As he warmed up, the wounds in his shoulder and leg began to ache.

Somewhere outside the cave, he heard the distant cry of the dragon, out hunting. He wondered what it was hunting for. He hoped it wasn't them. Gods knew there were enough monsters on their trail already. Wincing from his injuries, he went to find his sewing kit.

He pulled a large bundle wrapped in leather from his cache and grunted in happy surprise to see a clay jug of wine. Aedin unstopped the cork and took a few swigs. Then he unwrapped the bundle. Inside were needles, gut string, and the dried remnants of some healing herbs in a little clay jar sealed with wax.

Aedin pulled up his tunic and took a look at his leg. The cut was ragged and hurt like the devil’s nephews, but it was shallow. He stitched it up with a few deeply felt curses. It wasn’t pretty, but in a few days he would be fine. The shoulder was more difficult. Aedin didn’t think it was bad, but it was difficult to see. And given that it was on his right shoulder, it would be even more difficult to reach.

“Here, let me see that,” said Elenn.

He turned to see her, stitting up and pushing the hair out of her eyes.

“Glad to see you up,” he said. He sat next to her with his back turned so she could see the wound.

“Glad to be up,” said Elenn, running her fingers along the edges of the cut. “How long was I out?”

“Two or three hours,” said Aedin. “Hard to tell in here. Can’t see the sun.”

“With all this smoke, I can barely see my hand in front of my face,” said Elenn. She coughed and waved a hand to clear the air. “So, shall I sew you up then?”

Aedin laughed at this, and pushed his sewing kit over to her. Elenn picked up the bone needle he had used on his leg, and deftly strung it with a new length of catgut.

“Thanks for pulling me out,” said Elenn quietly. “I would have drowned if you hadn’t.”

“Well, you rescued me with that … net trick you did,” said Aedin. “Figured I owed you one.” He looked over at her, but she was rummaging through his kit and didn’t react in any way to his attempt to trawl for answers.

Aedin decided to press harder. “You’re a conjuror, then?”

Elenn pulled a small leather pouch out of the kit and removed a vial from it. “Not really,” she said. “Aunt Ethelind tried to teach me a few things.” She unstopped the vial and carefully lifted it to her nostrils. She raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question.

“Healing balm,” said Aedin.

Elenn nodded, and poured some out onto the wound.

“It’s in my blood,” Elenn continued, “or so my aunt said. To tell you the truth, I never had that much luck with it before today.”

“Sometimes,” he said, “in desperate situations, the Gods smile on us and we do incredible things.”

Elenn nodded, thoughtfully. She pulled down his tunic a little further, and picked up the bone needle. In the dim light, Aedin was not sure, but he thought she might be blushing.

She jabbed the needle abruptly into his skin. Aedin sucked in his breath with pain and gave her a fierce glare.

“Sorry,” she said, looking embarrassed.

He shook his head. “No apologies. Just you and me out here. Two people against the world.” He took a deep breath. “Have to count on each other.”

Elenn did not look up, concentrating on pulling gut through the ragged edges of his shoulder wound. “This is a nasty cut,” she said. “What were those things?”

“Going to ask you the same question. Never saw anything like that before in my life. Why do you think they were attacking us?”

“No idea,” she said. “For all I know, they were after you.”

He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. As a man who had plenty of experience with protestations of ignorance and innocence, Aedin thought this sounded much like an admission of guilt. Elenn might not know what those crow-monsters had been, but she knew they were after her—or after the priceless relic she carried.

“Suppose we’ll never know what they wanted,” he said, deciding not to press her.

“I hope we never see them again,” she said.

He grunted.

She fell silent, pulling the thread taut.

“Want to talk about what happened in the water?” asked Aedin quietly.

Elenn froze. “You saw the…” She trailed off. “What do you mean?”

“You were out,” said Aedin. “Wasn’t sure how much you remembered. Thought you might like to hear what I saw.”

“Yes, thank you,” she said.

“Soon as you hit the water you went limp,” he said. “I tried to find another way down, but I was scared and those things were coming, so I jumped in after you.” He shrugged nonchalantly, as if he did gallant deeds like this every day.

She jabbed him with the needle.

Aedin sucked in a hiss of breath through gritted teeth. “Merciful Gods, give me strength!”

“Hold still, please,” said Elenn. “And watch your language.”

“Took me a while to find you,” he continued. “Couldn’t see how to get you out. I was searching for a tree branch or something, when the water started bubbling like mad. Then there was a surge of water, and you popped up like a cork.”

“A surge?” she repeated.

“Like a dam broke upstream,” he said. “Very strange.” He looked at her carefully. “Magic?”

“No magic I know,” said Elenn quietly. “But this world is full of strange magics waiting to be discovered, or rediscovered. That’s what Aunt Ethelind said, anyway.”

Elenn passed the needle through his skin again, and Aedin could not help but gasp. “Almost done,” she said.

“Your stitching’s a lot neater than mine,” Aedin said, looking down.

Elenn smiled. “One of my many skills,” she said. “And I haven’t had anything to drink,” she added pointedly.

“Where are my manners?” Aedin said. With his left hand, he picked up the wine jug and passed it to her, but she set it down without taking a sip.

“Where did you find that, anyway?” Elenn asked.

“I have a network of hidden caches,” said Aedin, “along the major trade routes.” It was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was good for people to think him more competent and prepared than he really was.

“This is a major trade route?” asked Elenn.

“Some of my caches are a bit off the beaten path,” said Aedin, “for reasons of security.”

“So you’re a smuggler, then?” She made a final stitch and began tying a delicate knot in the gut.

“Freelance merchant. Call it what you want.”

“I call it thieving and smuggling,” said Elenn. She used her dagger to cut the free end of the gut.

Aedin winced, turning away involuntarily.

“I’m sorry,” said Elenn. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Aedin laughed. “No, it’s your embroidering—not your words,” he said. “I told you to speak freely and you did. I admire that about you, Elenn. You speak your mind.”

“Thank you.” She gazed on her handiwork and then nodded. “There,” she said, sounding satisfied.

He pulled his tunic back into place and took a long drink from the jug of wine. She replaced the needle and all the other items to his sewing kit.

“Elenn,” said Aedin. “You still owe me a question.”

She froze in the middle of wrapping the kit up in its leather bundle. “I don’t think—” She cut herself off. “One question,” she said, looking up at him and holding up her right index finger.

“What are you doing with the Spear of the Gods?” he asked.

Elenn turned away from him, clearly discomfited by the question. After a long pause, she turned back and said, “I am taking it to the Fortress of the Leode.”

“But what for?” asked Aedin. “What are you going to do with it at the Leode? Why’s that horn so confounded important?”

“One question, one answer.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“It’s all the answer you are going to get,” she said. “You agreed to take me to the Leode, and all I ask is that you keep your pledge.”

“You weren’t honest with me when I gave you my pledge,” he said. “So why should I honor it? Tell me why I shouldn’t just leave you here?”

“Because this is important,” said Elenn. “I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t.”

“If it’s so important,” said Aedin, “you can give me a hint.”

Elenn took a deep breath. “You know that my aunt was one of the Leodrine. And you know that the Falarica has been used in coronation ceremonies.”

“Politics!” cried Aedin. “Should have known. There were crows cackling in the trees when I met you. Why didn’t I see it was a bad omen?” He took another swig from the wine jug. “Who are the Sisters going to crown?”

“I told you,” she said, “I can’t say any more.”

“Garrick?”

Elenn turned away. “I’ve said too much already.”

“King Garrick,” he said bitterly. “A Kilkarrin, of course.”

“They are a great family,” said Elenn, turning to face him, “and well loved.”

“Thank you, my Lady Adair,” said Aedin with a glare, “for telling me how I feel about the miserable stinking Kilkarrins. You’re right, of course. I do love the Kilkarrins. Can’t remember why. Let me think…” he said, tapping on his lips thoughtfully, “do I love them for making a pact with the Vitalion after the rest of us were scorched to death in the mud? Or for wiping out half the clans in the Riverlands?”

“All right,” said Elenn, “The Kilkarrins are no saints. But Garrick has the strongest claim to the crown. He’s a Barethon, on his mother’s side.” She halted, looking sorrowful. Something about this struck Aedin as odd, and he made a mental note of it.

“He’s also the best hope of uniting Deira,” said Elenn. “And we’ll never drive the Vitalion and their horrors out until we’re united.” She walked away from the fire, towards the curtain of the waterfall that hid the cave from the outside world.

“My aunt said the rebels call him the Dragon,” said Elenn. “Because of his might in battle. Did you know that?”

“I had heard that,” said Aedin. He had also heard numerous reasons given for the epithet. Aedin thought it was because the man was a menace, a scourge, and devoured everything around him.

“The prophecies of Enid say that we must crown the dragon,” said Elenn. “And Aunt Ethelind believed that this meant Garrick. She was—” Elenn paused. “She was going to administer the coronation herself.” Her voice was thick with emotion.

Aedin walked up and stood beside her. The two of them stood there silently for a minute. Then Aedin put one arm around her and gave her a quick squeeze.

“Sorry,” he said.

Elenn nodded.

“Come on,” said Aedin. “Plenty more wine.” He lifted the jug and swished it around. “It’s Vitalion. Ruthless, cold-blooded snakes, but they do make good wine.” He smiled.

To his surprise, Elenn accepted it took a long swig of wine. “Let’s not talk politics anymore,” she said, handing the clay jug back to him.

“Agreed,” he said, and he lifted the jug to his lips.

***