Sir Callie and the Dragon's Roost, page 18
My eyes fly open and I jump into a combat stance, my hand automatically searching for Satin. She isn’t there.
“Good evening, Callie,” says Kensa, xir eyes a glow in the darkness. “I’m so glad you have finally found your way to us.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I remember the fire. I remember the fear. I remember my hair burning and my blood boiling as Kensa opened xir jaws wide, teeth longer than Satin. I remember being certain Neal and El were dead. I remember being helpless as Edwyn and I struck the dragon with our useless blades.
I raise my fists, knowing it isn’t enough. I am unarmed and alone. If Kensa decides to finish what xe started, I don’t stand a chance. “Stay back.”
Kensa puts up xir own hands. Human hands, free of claws or scales. Xir skin is reddish brown, xir hair scorched black, and xir eyes…like Teo’s in shape, with narrow pupils, but instead of the warm sunshine yellow, the irises are every shade of fire. This is xir true form.
“I mean you no harm,” says the dragon, voice low and sincere through the rasp in xir throat. “I heard you were here. I heard what you did—”
“We didn’t do anything,” I say shakily. “And we’re not staying. We’re not here to make trouble—”
“And I needed to thank you.”
My fists drop just fractionally. “You want to…thank me?”
“For Teo,” xe says. “For bringing xem home. For saving xir life. When news came that Helston had captured xem…I was certain xe was lost forever. A dragon of my years is not surprised easily. I know men. I know Helston. And I know the way the world treats us. But you, little knight, you surprised me. So, thank you.”
And Kensa bows. To me.
“I am indebted to you, little knight. You succeeded where I failed. Whatever you need, it is yours. You have my solemn promise.”
“I don’t need anything,” I make myself say. “And I didn’t do anything. Teo’s the one who saved us. If anyone owes a debt, it’s me.”
“Do not be so quick to undersell yourself.”
I shut my mouth.
“You have come far and have far to go,” Kensa continues. “There are many dangers ahead of you. You must arm yourself any way you can.”
“Why does that feel like a threat?”
“Because you have been hunted and you are still being hunted, and every breath signals danger now.”
That hits the mark so sharp and true, I grit my teeth. “You don’t know me.”
Kensa smiles. It’s not like the smiles that haunt my dreams, full of fire and threat, but instead is one of warmth and reassurance. A little like Teo in the fangs poking out one side of xir mouth, and a lot like Neal.
Kensa and Neal, they were close as anything.
“I know that real honesty is hard for you. You are fighting a war inside yourself, and it’s a battle for your life. But I know, too, that you will win.”
I flush. “How d’you know that?”
“Because you are a fighter. You have trained your whole life. You know who you are and you know what is right. Even in your darkest moments, you have never lost sight of those two elements, and they will arm you better than any blade. We may not be friends, Callie, but we are allies.”
“Yeah? How’d you figure?” I growl. “Far as I know, allies don’t try to kill each other.”
“I regret the way our previous interaction concluded,” says Kensa. “I allowed my personal feelings to overtake me, and that made for poor judgment. I apologize.”
I don’t say it’s fine, because it’s not. I fold my arms tight across my chest and study the dragon carefully. “Actions speak louder than words, and I’m not gonna trust you just ’cause you tell me I can. It doesn’t work like that. You wanna apologize, you can do it by showing us you’re on our side. You can prove it. Got it?”
Kensa inclines xir horned head. “I do.”
I keep going. “And I don’t speak for everyone, just for me. You want to make amends with the others, you gotta talk to them yourself. We’re four separate people.”
“Of course you are.”
“And…” I suck in my lip, not sure if even I have the daring required to make my next demand. “You gotta swear it. Oaths are binding in Dumoor, right? That’s what Teo said. So, make an oath saying everything you just said. ’Cause else it’s just words.”
Kensa hesitates, and xir eyes flash. “You are a sharp one, little knight.” Then xe holds out xir hand, palm up. Xir nails are somewhere between claws and fingernails. They could slit my throat easy as anything.
But faith goes both ways, fragile as it is.
Pushing back the fear prickling through me, I place my hand in the dragon’s palm. Xir long fingers curl around to grip me tight.
Xir hand is warm to the touch and not rough like I was expecting, though. The scales are soft like skin. Like my skin.
Warm turns hot so fast I only have time to flinch as our joined hands burst into flame. Real fire, full of red and orange and yellow snapping and crackling on my skin. Except it doesn’t hurt, and I didn’t think my head could get any more twisted around.
Kensa’s face remains placid as the flames curl and lick around our wrists like chains binding us together.
“You have my oath,” Kensa tells me over the rush of air being sucked into the furnace. “My word, my life.” Bright magic flows from the dragon’s hands into mine, strange and cool, and ties us together. “By the moors which bind us, it is done.”
Kensa releases me and I inspect my hand, my wrist, my sleeve. No burns. No scorch marks. Just the lingering tingle of magic. Of a dragon’s promise.
“Anything you need, little knight,” says Kensa. “It is yours.”
A dragon’s favor…There’re a million things I could use it for, and I can’t think of a single one.
“Why?” I call after xem as xe turns away. “After everything that happened…Don’t tell me it’s just about Teo.”
The dragon pauses, moonlight glinting off xir horns. “No,” xe says, “it is not just about Teo.”
“Then what—”
But Kensa is already gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The moment the sun rises, I call an emergency meeting of the Helston contingency.
We sit on the floor in Elowen’s room, which is the biggest, with a slightly-but-not-really-stolen plate of biscuits between us. And, yes, they are the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of putting in my mouth. I eat and talk and ignore the disapproving looks Elowen sends my way.
“You talked with Kensa?” Willow breathes in horror. “Callie…you could’ve been killed!”
I wave off his concerns with a casual, “Nah,” ignoring the fact that I had very much feared that exact thing the whole way through the conversation. “It was fine. It was weird, but it was…fine. Xe’s not like Teo, obviously, but xe’s not not like Teo either. Really, what I’m saying is—” I take a deep breath. Even with all the certainty in the world, it’s still hard to say. “I’ve been wrong about a lot of things. And I’ve known that for a while, even before we ran away, but talking to Teo’s brood last night, then Kensa…I can’t pretend anymore. Even for the sake of my pride. Shut up, El.”
She raises her hands innocently. “I said nothing.”
“You didn’t need to. Your face says it all.”
“There is nothing I can do about my face.”
“Moving on,” says Edwyn wearily.
“Yeah, moving on. What I’m trying to say is, these are the things we know as facts.” I start counting them off on my fingers. “Dumoor has been kind to us, against everything we thought we knew. Two, Teo is our friend. We are friends with a dragon.”
Willow frowns at his own fingers. “Is that three?”
“No, still two. They’re joined.”
“All right.”
“Three, Adan holds a grudge and he’s gonna come after us, somehow, sometime. And it’s personal. Four, Helston is bringing a war against Dumoor. That’s not personal, but we’re mixed well into it. Helston’s army is going to attack, even if we don’t know exactly when. We know, too, that everything is kept in separate boxes here, and The Roost has nothing to do with the fighting and the killing and such. But Helston’s not gonna care. They see magic, they see the enemy. Each one of us is proof enough of that.”
Elowen nods, her face somber, while Edwyn hugs his knees.
Willow’s fingers dance a fretful beat in his lap, midnight-blue skirt pulled over his knees. “If she…If Mother knew what it was really like—what they’re really like—I know she would understand. At least, I think she would. I believe she would. If she could understand that they are just like us—”
“Helston and Dumoor are not alike,” says Elowen. “I’m sorry, but they’re not. If they were, do you think we would be welcomed here? Do you think we would have stayed one moment? There are not two people farther apart, and comparing The Roost to Helston—” She gives a contemptuous hiss. “I know you are homesick and guilty, Willow, but you cannot let your personal feelings cloud your senses.”
“Hey,” I say when Willow flinches. “That’s a bit much, El.”
Her sharp gaze flashes to me. “No it isn’t. It’s true. And I am glad you’ve caught up, Callie, because I feared you were going the same way. It’s easy for both of you to sit comfortably in the middle when you still have people you love back in Helston. But it’s not fair or right to diminish the damage Helston has done or the role it plays in this war.” Elowen looks from me, to Willow, to Edwyn, holding us each steadily in her gaze for a long moment as she speaks: “In a world of black and white, Helston is the villain, and each of us needs to decide where we stand.”
I take in Willow, wilting and miserable. “You really think it’s that simple, El?”
She nods, once, firmly. “I do.”
Silence sits among us, unbroken except for the soft patter of Willow’s anxious fingers. I get it. His mind is with mine, back in Helston, in the warmest, safest places in the palace. Islands surrounded by tempestuous storms, the violent sea slowly eroding the land inch by inch.
Maybe we would’ve been safe for a while longer, but not forever. We would’ve crumbled and fallen eventually.
“So, what?” Willow asks in a wobbly voice. “We fight against Helston? Is that what you’re saying, Callie?”
I say “no” just as El gives an emphatic “yes.”
“I’m saying that my goal”—I thump my chest—“has always been to protect my friends. You’re my friends. But The Roost are my friends too. I think I have a duty to protect them. Or at least to help however I can. We’re in a unique position, right? We have information all the way from the inside that might do some good. I’m not saying fight your mum, Willow. And I’m not saying burn the palace to the ground. I’m saying we follow the knight’s code. The real one. The true one. To help and defend those weaker than ourselves. Whatever is going on up in Pioden, it isn’t The Roost’s fight. Right?”
Willow and Elowen both nod slowly.
“What about you?” I ask Edwyn, who has neither spoken nor moved nor breathed since we gathered. “You’re an equal part of this. What do you think?”
“I think…” Edwyn’s eyes flick between Willow and his sister, then drop. “I think there is nothing we can do to stop Helston once they ride. It isn’t just about magic and fear. It’s about Prince Jowan, His Majesty, and you, Willow. It’s revenge. It has always been revenge.” He takes a deep breath. “Father says—said—all of Helston’s problems stem from a single source. To solve those problems means to eradicate that source. Dumoor. That includes The Roost, Teo, and everyone here. Helston won’t rest until the job is complete.”
“We have to tell them,” says Elowen, standing up. “Callie’s right. We have a duty to these people. We have to warn them. We have to help them. We have to…” A flash of something that almost looks like guilt crosses her face. “We have to speak with Alis.”
Her name sends a prickle all the way from my scalp to my bare toes. Edwyn sucks in a breath, and Willow says, “No.”
When we look at him, his jaw is rigid with anger. He avoids our stares, glaring at the space between us. His chest heaves. “I know it’s complicated,” he starts. “I agree that this is a good place and these are good people. But she…she killed my brother, and I can’t—” But just the mention of Jowan is enough to break him. He smothers his face in his hands. “I can be here so long as it’s separate,” he mumbles, wobbly with tears. “So long as I can pretend that she isn’t…But it’s too much to ask. It’s more than I can manage—”
“We’re not going to make friends,” I murmur, shuffling to wrap the prince up in a tight hug. “We’re not even going to be allies. This isn’t about her. It’s about Teo and Dolan and Inis and everyone who’s been kind to us. Who have nothing to do with Helston and don’t deserve to die because of someone else’s fight. Look, you don’t even need to come if you don’t want to. No one’ll think badly of you if you wanna sit this out. Right?”
“Of course,” says Elowen, and Edwyn nods his agreement. But Willow shakes his head, sitting up with a snuffle.
“No, if you’re going, I’m going. And I’m…I—I want to look her in the eyes and ask her why. She took away my brother and then she took away my father. I want her to know what’s left. I want her to see me and know what she’s done.”
“Okay,” I say, squeezing him tighter. “Then that’s exactly what we’ll do.”
* * *
Teo is somehow even bouncier when xe greets us in The Roost. If xir wings were through yet, I’m sure xe’d be on the ceiling!
I don’t beat around the bush. “We need to talk to Alis. Do you know how we can make that happen?”
Teo stops short, yellow eyes wide and puzzled. “You want to talk to Alis? Why? I thought you were determined not to talk to her.”
“Yeah, well…” I rub the back of my head. “I guess some things have changed.”
“Does that mean you’re staying?”
“We’re not sure what it means yet,” says El before Teo can get too excited. “That’ll depend on what the Witch Queen says. Are you able to get us an audience?”
“I can’t,” says Teo. “But I know someone who can.” Xe looks at me, nose wrinkled in apology. “I…don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind on Kensa, too, have you? Because xe’s back. Xe came home last night.”
“Well, actually—”
I fill Teo in as fast as I can on my weird conversation with the older dragon and our even weirder truce. “I might not understand it, but I’m gonna take it. So you think Kensa can get us in?”
“I’m certain,” says Teo. “There’s no one closer to Alis than Kensa, and I’m sure she’s interested in seeing you. I’ll go now. Better to catch xem quickly before xe gets sent off on another mission. It could be weeks before xe’s back again.” Teo’s already skipping backward before xe’s done talking. “I’m sure you’ll get an answer fast. I think she’s keen to talk to you.”
If Teo’s trying to make us feel better, it is not working.
* * *
We wait anxiously for Teo to return with a reply from Pioden. Bundled up in the corner we’ve claimed as our own, we don’t talk to each other; the magnitude of what we’re doing sucks up all the oxygen around us.
I try to focus and remember everything anyone’s ever told me about Alis, Witch Queen of the Moors, Helston’s banished princess. Papa told me the story that night I first met Kensa. An evil witch who preys on lost children to feed her growing army. Queen Ewella told me about her jealous rage, which flared and exploded and nearly brought the palace crumbling to dust. Neal said that Alis is not to be trusted, that she’ll catch you and keep you, easy as anything. Even Elowen had her stories, court rumors of the king’s sister, whose power grew too big to contain.
She is the excuse the council gave over and over for keeping us small and contained. She is the justification Peran gave for cruelty. She is the very reason we were chased out of Helston.
She is why we are here now.
I don’t like that. I don’t like feeling like a piece in other people’s games.
I wish I had Satin, though I dunno how good a sword would be against a witch queen. Probably about as effective as it was against a dragon. Nope, we’re gonna have to rely wholly on tact and diplomacy and—I grimace—manners.
I give a little prayer of thanks for Elowen. If it was left up to me on my own, we’d be dead in a heartbeat. It is Willow, however, whom we are most worried about. I’ve seen him sad to the point of miserable. Depressed. Despondent. But I’ve never seen him brooding before. He doesn’t speak or look at us, just stares at a point in the middle distance, his expression one I can only describe as stormy.
I know he’s thinking about Jowan.
“Hey.” I shuffle right up next to him. “You really don’t have to do this, you know. We can tell you all about it. If you’re not up to it—”
“I am up to it,” he replies stiffly. “I want to be. And I want…to make sense of it. For myself. Because she isn’t just some fairy-tale villain. She’s my aunt. Father’s sister. And I don’t remember her, but…I want to know if she’s like him. Even just a little bit. Mother and Father never mentioned her, but Lord Peran did. Whenever I couldn’t control my magic, he’d tell me I would end up just like my aunt. He said she was corrupted. Cursed. That her magic was poison, and she was the reason I was…the way that I am.”
“Father’s a liar,” Elowen reminds him from the chair farthest from the fire. Today she has picked a tunic of aggressive magenta, paired with soft fawn-colored breeches, while Willow chose a dress that looks like it was stitched from fresh leaves. Edwyn wears the closest brown to black he could find, and I’m back in my favorite shade of green. We are all dressed for battle.
