Cold Hearted Son of a Witch (Dragoneers Saga) (4 page)

BOOK: Cold Hearted Son of a Witch (Dragoneers Saga)
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“My father is the king, or weren’t you paying attention?” Jenka’s words silenced the old ranger. Jenka shooed the other men out of the little kitchen. His expression made clear that they were not to speak of what they’d just heard.

“Jericho De Swasso wasn’t my father, Herald,” Jenka went on after they’d gone. Jenka didn’t mean to be so harsh with him. Herald was a good man, and didn’t deserve to be talked to in such a manner, but it was done. “If Prince Richard doesn’t recover, then I am the Crown Prince. I don’t want anything to do with it. I am a Dragoneer.”

Jenka took another deep breath and exhaled some of his frustration. With a sarcastic smile he added, “Keep my lineage in mind as you order me about, old friend.” With that he whirled off to find Jade so they could go escort the King’s Ranger caravan across the frontier to Kingsmen’s Keep.

 

 

 

Part II

Moonlit Serpent Shit

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

 

Rikky learned how to relieve himself on a long journey when Silva landed them in the sea late the second day of their flight. The dragons dove on a school of fish, while he and Zahrellion floated helplessly in swells as tall as mountains. Crystal’s chilly scales made vaporous steam where they met the warm water and Silva paddled around them like a huge duck. It wasn’t hard for Rikky to absolve himself in the ocean. He’d been holding it in for two whole days. Now he had to take a piss, and the sun was getting low. He was glad he could see Fisherman’s Island up ahead. He was determined to hold it. The Island was just minutes away.

“Look,” Zahrellion pointed. Rikky saw the flash, flash, flash of a mirrored lantern shuttering open and closed.

“The birds made it, then,” he observed the obvious. Had the message-bearing swifter hawks not arrived, there would be no welcome for the dragons. If the seamen followed the king’s commands the Dragoneers would be able to land, rest, and resupply completely unmolested. If not, Zahrellion warned that it could get messy.

It had gotten messy on Gull’s Reach. The overpopulated islanders all wanted to see the dragons and Dragoneers who had saved Mainsted from the Goblin King. To them it was a story told about another place. The Mainland, to most of them, was mysterious, fraught with terror and wonders. About half the people they saw on the islands had dark kaffee-colored skin, reminding Rikky of Stick, who hadn’t been seen since they all fled Three Forks in the middle of a troll attack.

Rikky had never been off of the Mainland until now, but Zahrellion had delivered a few messages to Gull’s Reach for the Crown. She kept Rikky from wondering too much by answering his myriad questions as best she could. He didn’t understand why there were so few of the darker-skinned people on the Mainland.

They adjusted well to the island life,
she told him.
They didn’t want to move on. They say that very few people in the realm are true ebon, but the ones that are live on Gull’s Reach and Freeman’s Reach. A lot of the Outlanders are ebon, as were most of the folk we saw.
 
True ebons are as dark as pitch and as fit as stallions
.

Ranger Bushlong might have been a real ebon,
Rikky said, remembering meeting the man once in Crag.
He was as dark as coal and could run with the deer.

Herald had told them that the Kingsman who supervised the Fisherman’s Island Settlement was a timid, unfavorite cousin of King Blanchard’s. He said that Commander De Flean might try to lick their boots, but doubted he or his men would interfere with them otherwise.

Rikky decided that he wouldn’t mind some intrusion into their business. The thought of eating a fresh, hot meal was almost enough to take his mind off his discomfort. Thankfully, Silva shot forth on a burst of reserved energy and was soon back-flapping them down on a stretch of beach near a stack of crates and a water keg. Rikky slid off of his dragon and nearly broke his wooden peg-leg when it jammed into the sand. He struggled for a moment, but then unlaced his britches and answered nature’s dire urging, leaning over sideways, with his leg still stuck.

The relief allowed him to relax enough to pull his peg loose, but didn’t make moving around on the soft surface any easier. “Did you see any people?” he asked his dragon. He spoke out loud, even though he didn’t have to.

Silva responded into his mind,
Yesss, they are watching us from the ridge. Shall I scare them away?

Rikky scanned the dusky hillside, but saw nothing.

Do not pay them any mind
, Zahrellion commanded into the ethereal.
There should be good, fresh food in those crates, and fresh water in the keg. We sleep on the beach tonight and tomorrow, but that’s it. We have to beat the moon cycle.

I want to wash this film of itchy salt from my skin,
Rikky said. Crystal came thumping down then, her huge wings blowing gusts of frigid sand across the beach.

Zahrellion slid from her dragon and hit the sand smoothly in mid stride.
After we fill our skins we can take turns washing in the barrel.

This satisfied Rikky and he quickly found some fruit and bread in the crates that made him feel even better about things. He felt so good that it didn’t bother him at all when Zahrellion buried her face in her hands and confessed keeping information from him. After hearing about the leaping unicorn-serpent and its venomous spike, he was more curious than anything. If it attacked them, he decided he would, at the very least, put an arrow in its eye.

You could have told me, Zah,
Rikky said.
I can keep a secret.

Not from Jenka you can’t,
she retorted.

He didn’t bother to argue.

They and the dragons slept soundly. Rikky woke once, to Silva’s mental urging, early in the morning. He found a filthy young woman with a basket fidgeting nervously at the edge of the windblown trees that lined the backside of the beach.
 
He had to use his bow case to get standing, but once he was up he hobbled over to her, hoping beyond hope that there was meat in the basket.

“So you’re a Dragoneer?” she asked. She sounded disappointed. She tipped her toes and looked over him at the dark mounds of scale-covered wyrm behind.

“I am,” he took the basket and was pleased by the weight of it. A peek under the napkin revealed a savory-smelling sausage loaf.

“Go on,” she urged him. “Eat it up.”

Rikky shouldered the handle and tore into the food.

The girl waited until he swallowed. “What are you after way out here?”

“We’re on a quest of great importance,” Rikky said.

“You
be
getting back to where you came from,” Zahrellion told the girl sharply.

The sight of Zah’s sleep-wild white hair, lavender eyes, and tattoo-covered scowl sent the young woman scrambling back into the trees. “Save me some of that, and don’t bother with the islanders anymore, Rikky. I’m going back to sleep.”

“Yes, mother,” Rikky smarted back. He wondered how his mother was doing. Unlike many people, she’d made it to the keep from Crag.

“If I was your mother I would scrub behind your ears with grit,” Zah replied slowly, her words dying into a long yawn. Within minutes she was back in her roll, asleep again. Rikky satisfied his hunger from the well-cooked fare in the basket and curled up next to Silva.

It was later that evening when they woke and took turns washing in the barrel. Then they loaded all they could from the crates and started east toward the serpent’s island.

They flew for two days and nights.

***

 
Zahrellion was pleased to see that they were almost two days to the fore of the coming full moon. The island they were seeking was ahead and below, looking just like Linux had drawn it on the map she’d studied. Her one-time mentor might be a buffoon for soul-stepping the king, but he was meticulous down to the shoreline details he’d made. According to the explorers, there were caves along the outer rim. Linux had marked them. The problem was, a storm was brewing, and it was coming slowly toward them. Zah hoped to examine the caves before darkness or the weather overtook them. They had time, she decided, a long evening at least, to try to find shelter.

They searched for a good while, finding that most of the caves were full of fat, chirping sea monkeys or large, long-beaked dactyls. They finally noticed a low-opening cave, just as the storm hit. They learned that it wasn’t empty either. When lightning exploded outside the cave mouth it illuminated the score of black-eyed, saber-fanged wallowers that were crowded on the rocks. Luckily, the man-sized blubbery beasts were terrified of the dragons and kept huddled together.

Can I
eats
one of them?
Crystal asked Zahrellion.

Not now,
Zah answered.
I don’t want to watch you feed.

The cavern was formed of dark, pocked stone and was perpetually wet from all the mist and spray that came in when the waves crashed outside. It wasn’t an apartment at the castle in Mainsted, but they made the most of it.

“What if it doesn’t stop raining?” Rikky asked. Zah helped him down from Silva’s back and then started a hot, sizzling blue fire with her druidic magic. The dragons curled into separate resting positions, both with a hungry eye on the frightened wallowers.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean, what if it’s raining the night the moon is full.
 
What if the moon’s light doesn’t reach the mushrooms?” He shrugged. “How will we know if they are potent enough?”

“The rain will stop, Rikky,” Zah said, hoping she was right. “Quit worrying about what we can’t control. What we have to do is clear. If the moonlight doesn’t touch the mushrooms, we have to wait for the next full moon.” She tossed him a thick, rectangular envelope wrapped neatly in waxy paper. “It’s fudge. You can have it all.” She held up an identical package. “I have my own.”

“Thank you,” Rikky wasted no time savoring the sweet, chocolaty taste of the candy. It was delicious.

“Rest, Rikky,” Zah told him. “I’ll watch.” She had slept well on Crystal’s back and was now feeling anxious. The dragons were exhausted after so many days of continuous flight with only minimal rest in between. Rikky looked tired too, and filthy, even though he had just bathed two days before.

Zahrellion chided herself for not making sure he had everything he needed for the journey. He’d brought it all, save for a change of clothes. Boys never think of that kind of thing.

Surprisingly, the equipment harness Linux had made and fitted to Silva worked well enough. Rikky did have an extra peg-leg, and a narrow version of his wheeled chair, and even a few books, in case they had to stay an extra month, but no extra clothes, save for a wool cloak.

After seeing the lay of the land they both knew the only place the chair could be used was on the wet, packed sand that created a wide beach inside the sheltering island’s bay -- the beach where the mushrooms would be. Rikky said he wasn’t going to use it.

The outer-facing terrain was rocky and inhospitable, even before the storm came. It was all steep black crags, with random clumps of stark green vegetation clinging desperately to them. They hadn’t had time to search all of it yet. That left enough room for Zahrellion to hope that they would be able to find a suitable place to hole up if they had to stay a while.

She woke to find Rikky’s peg-leg tapping on her shoulder. Bright sunlight streamed around him. “The dragons have gone hunting. We slept for a whole night and day.” He was excited and speaking quickly. He’d strung his bow and thrown a quiver over his shoulder. “Tonight is the full moon, Zah. We need to eat and prepare our things.”

BOOK: Cold Hearted Son of a Witch (Dragoneers Saga)
9.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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