Draka

When we figured that sunrise was not far off we stopped for another rest and a short nap. We’d been going for a good seven or eight hours at that point, everyone was pretty beat, and we still had another two hours to go by my estimate.

Ardek was having the worst of it. Not only was this his first time in this or any forest, with every sound making him jump, but he had also never ridden a horse before, and the saddle soreness was very real. Add to that the fact that he’d been sitting behind Mak and doing his best not to touch her, likely for fear that she would shank him, and the kid was a mess.

When I informed him that it was time to saddle up and move on he faced it with grim determination. The second time he almost fell out of the saddle Mak told him to “Just fucking hold on to me,” and I’d never seen a man so frightened of putting his arms around a woman’s waist. A few restrained titters from Herald soon turned into a wave of laughter that tore through everyone except Mak and Ardek, ebbing and then picking up again whenever anyone looked at the two, Ardek bright red and Mak giving death glares to anyone who wasn’t me. For all the weirdness of the situation it still felt almost normal. A little mean, maybe, but that’s been half of humour since the beginning of time. Besides, it was good to hear Herald laugh properly.

It was a few hours into the morning when we arrived at the scholars’ abandoned campsite, and the relief that washed through the group when I informed them all that we’d arrived was a beautiful thing to see. Ardek fell out of the saddle like he’d been pardoned on the steps to the gallows, while the others dropped their packs and started pampering the animals before sitting down on the logs that still ringed the firepit.

“Hey, Herald,” I said as I stretched out on the ground, sticking to the common language for the sake of the others. “Remember the scholars I told you about? This was their camp.”

“The scholars?” she said, sitting down near me. Then her eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh! So that is where you are planning to hide us!”

“Can you think of anywhere safer?”

“If you give me time, perhaps. But I doubt I will think of anywhere you could come with us, so practically, no.”

The others looked at us quizzically until Mak decided to be the one to ask, “What exactly are you talking about?”

I pointed lazily towards the excavation. “Walk for about a minute in that direction and you’ll understand.”

She looked like she was about to argue, but got heavily to her feet.

Herald spoke up quickly. “There is a gate here. We are going inside.”

Mak’s face went carefully neutral. “I see,” she said, and looked at me. I shrugged, and she sat back down with a grateful nod. If anyone noticed the exchange, they didn’t comment.

“Is that safe?” Lalia asked.

“I’ve checked it out. If you roam for a long, long time you might come across some gremlins, but otherwise it’s all clear.”

“Excuse me,” Ardek piped in, “what’s this gate you’re talking about?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mak said flatly. “You’ll see soon enough.”

“And you’re both alright with this?” Lalia asked, looking between Herald and Mak.

“If Draka says that it is safe, then I believe her,” Herald said. Mak just shrugged glumly.

Right. Mak’s last time in one of these places had ended with her being a few days from starvation when Herald and I rescued her. I hadn’t exactly considered that when coming up with the idea. Part of me felt like I should have, but I stood by my decision.

“Look, Lalia. This mountain is my mountain. I have my home, or nest, or lair or whatever you want to call it literally minutes from here by flight. If you want to come check on Herald and Mak, just come here and set up camp. I’ll check regularly and let you in if I see you. Alright?”

“Yeah,” Lalia said doubtfully, then more confidently, “Yeah. Alright.”

We ended up spending the rest of the day and the next night there. The horses needed to be properly rested for the return, Garal and Lalia didn’t want to ride at night if they could avoid it, and everybody wanted to spend some more time together before parting, anyway. I could have easily returned to my nest, but as much as I wanted to sleep and recover properly on my hoard I didn’t want to leave my humans until I was sure that they were safely tucked away in the mountain. I slept with the others and took a watch like everyone else. The nights were getting colder, but we had a fire going and the weather was fine, so it was quite nice, really.

“Will Rallon not be upset that you were away a whole extra day?” Herald asked as they were saddling up, with Stalwart’s lead tied to Melon’s saddle. It wasn’t like we could bring the poor thing into the tunnels with us.

“We’ll have to explain ourselves, for sure,” Garal said. “But he can be quite understanding. We’ll be fine.”

“Well, if he kicks you out of the company I am sure that we will have more than enough room here. Right, Draka?”

I snorted. “Sure. The more, the merrier.”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that, but I’ll keep it in mind,” Garal said and leapt into the saddle.

With a few goodbyes and well wishes they were gone. We’d already moved everything down to the gate, so there was no point in delaying. I brought the three remaining humans with me down the slope, shooed them back a bit, then put my hand on the stone and willed it open. I heard a muttered “Mercies and Sorrows…” from Ardek, who was suitably impressed by the display.

“Come on, get in,” I told them. “If you can’t carry everything, just leave the least important stuff inside the door. I can guarantee that nothing will touch it.”

“So it just… goes into the mountain?” Ardek said, stopping at the entrance to the tunnel. “What’s in there?”

“Miles and miles of empty tunnels, and lots of empty chambers. That’s the whole point. Now get in there!” I said, a little more harshly than necessary perhaps, and lashed my tail at him. I couldn’t actually do any damage with it, but a swat on the back of his legs got him moving.

They left most of the dry goods at the entrance, taking two or three days' worth with them and prioritising waterskins and other necessities.

I guessed Mak didn’t want to reveal too much to Ardek, because I hadn’t seen her cast her spell. I approved. I didn’t trust him either. Instead Herald had taken out a light-ball and they all walked in a tight group, with Ardek nervously asking questions about anything and everything.

When she reached the remains of the scholar’s camp in the hub, Mak knelt down and curiously touched the remains of the campfire, rubbing the ashes between her fingers.

“I had some unwanted guests,” I said, coming up behind her, and she froze, then turned to look at me.

“Herald told me. Something about scholars digging out the gate. I’m guessing it was them?”

“Right.”

“So, here?” Herald asked.

“Here,” I agreed. “There’s plenty of ways out from here, but it will be long before you reach another chamber.”

“Good to be somewhat close to the exit, too,” Ardek said. I hadn’t expected him to give his opinion. He was probably nervous. For a city boy, even the forest must have been preferable to these dark tunnels.

As they all started to unpack and set up a simple camp Herald approached me. “Can we talk, once we have set up here?” she asked in a low voice.

“Yes,” I said. “I think that would be good.”

When they’d finished making some kind of order Mak discreetly cast her darkvision spell on Herald, which suited me fine. It just meant that I didn’t need to tell her to do it. I still approached them.

“Let’s take a walk,” I told Herald, then looked to Mak and switched to Tekereteki. “Kill the boy if you have to. We cannot afford to keep someone untrustworthy here.”

I didn’t feel great about it, but I meant it. The look Herald gave me didn’t make things any better.

“I understand,” she answered but, no matter how annoyed she had been at him, she looked so miserable that I wasn’t sure if she’d manage it. Still, she was smart, and she wouldn’t let it go that far. I was sure of it.

Just to be on the safe side, I turned to Ardek. “Herald and I are going for a walk,” I told him. “Make yourself useful to Mak, and be smart.”

“I will, boss,” he said earnestly.

I took Herald with me away from the camp. There was only one place to go, really, and the whole way there Herald didn’t say a word. The air was thick with the tension between us, until I brought her into the middle of the throne room, sat down, and said, “Well?”

“I am very angry with you, Draka.”

Right. We were having this conversation, for real this time.

Her eyes bored into me, but there was only pain there, and it hit me so hard, all of me, that if I had not been sitting I might have stumbled. “Or rather, I am not. And I am very angry with myself because I am not angry with you. I have tried. I have tried so hard. And nothing.”

“I know,” I told her. “In the cellar, back with the Wolves, I could smell the anger coming off you. I thought that you would actually hit me. Yet you did not.”

“What would you have done?”

“I do not know. With anyone else I would have killed them, probably. With you… I do not think I could hurt you.”

“You know what this is about?”

“Mak. And you.”

She broke the stare, then nodded and turned away from me. “I have trusted you, Draka. I have defended you, and helped you. And now this. Whatever this is. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Did you talk to Mak?”

“I tried. She still will not say. All she will tell me is that she betrayed you, and that she deserves it, but she will not tell me what ‘it’ is. She will not tell me what she did to you, or what you did to her, or why. I am left to guess, and imagine, and every possibility I think of is worse than the last. Please, if my own sister will not tell me, will my friend? Will you?”

I sighed, and laid down. “Come here, would you? Sit down?”

She was slouched on her feet and looked close to tears, but after a while she slowly came and sat down. Even though she looked down at me, sitting there, hugging her knees, she looked so small.

“What I told you was true,” I said. The voice, my conscience, the human in me, whatever it was… it wanted me to shut up. But Herald should know. She had done nothing to deserve being lied to, even through silence. “I was going to kill her. I was looking forward to it. I wanted her to tell you why, but if she will not, well… Like you said in the cellar, you deserve to know.

“Mak betrayed me, if that is a strong enough word. She brought me to the tree. Our tree. Then she used you to lure me into an ambush, where I was beaten, poisoned, and chained. She walked with them as they brought me back to the city and locked me in a cell. I know why, of course. Now I know, and I admit that I have some regrets. But at the time… once we were alone I killed the guard, and I went into her cell, and I was going to kill her.”

“But you did not,” Herald said.

“No. But not out of mercy, or even out of love for you. It was because at some point, something in her broke, and I knew that there was no point in killing her. You know. Do you think she could betray me again?”

“No,” she said sadly. “She is different. But it is more than fear or repentance. I have watched her, when you speak to her. It is not just that she does not dare to disobey you. I do not think that she can, even when she wants to.” She swallowed. “Draka, you told her to tear a man’s throat out with her teeth, and it was killing her, but she was going to do it. That is far beyond normal, and it is not her. You must have done something to her. And to me, for that matter. Because no matter how justified you might have felt in the moment, I know that I should hate you for what you have done to Mak. I have tried to hate you. Do you know what that is like, to try to hate your friend? Yet while I pity my sister, with you all I can do is sympathise with you for having to make the choice.

“We talked about this. You were worried that I was too focused, even obsessed with you. I… brushed it off. But I think that you were right. I know that I love you. I have no doubt about that. But there is more to it, and it is not natural. I deserve to know what you are doing to us, do I not?”

“You do,” I said. My throat was tight, but I forced the words out. “You deserve to know everything. The truth is that I am not doing anything knowingly. But I do not know if my dragon is.”

Herald’s face scrunched slightly with confusion, as though she wondered if she’d misheard. “I do not understand. Your dragon?”

I paused to think, looking around this room and gathering my thoughts. “This chamber is impressive, is it not? I often wonder who made it, and the tunnels and all.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she asked softly.

“There is a lingering scent of gold and silver here. I think of it as the throne room, but I think it was a lair. The lair of my father.”

“Now I am truly confused. You told me about your father. He is human, is he not?”

“One of my fathers is, as is my mother. My human side’s parents. But my dragon had a father, and a mother, presumably, unless I have misunderstood gender in dragons.” I caught her gaze. “Herald, there is something I have not told you, out of fear of how you would react. But it is too late for that now, and you deserve to know everything. Telling you is the least I can do after what I have done to you.

“This was my father’s lair. At least I think so. The memories are not clear. Perhaps because they are not mine. Even being able to see them is new to me, anyway. They belong to my other half.

“Herald, what I told you about how I came here was mostly true. I had an accident, and I woke up in this body. But I am not alone here. I share this body with its original owner. Or that is what I thought. Perhaps it is more correct to say that I am joined with her. And she… I believe that you were right. Remember how you said that I was too small? That I should be in a nest somewhere being fed by my mother? Well… I remember my father bringing food into the lair. I am quite sure that it was there for me to ‘steal’. Then it is all a blur. I believe that I was caged, then brought up there,” I pointed to the hole in the ceiling, “for some purpose that I do not know. And then my dragon lay there, asleep and untouched by time, for centuries. Until I came along and woke her.”

As I spoke, and in the silence that followed, Herald’s face went from surprise and confusion to scepticism, until it became carefully neutral and she stated, quite flatly, “You are telling me that you are two people.”

“Yes, and no. The last few days have been confusing. The way I see myself, and think of myself. The way I hear the other part of me. It has been a mess. I will think something that is perfectly reasonable at the moment, and then be horrified when I think of it later. I used to think of my dragon as just a voice in my head that gave me its opinions and sometimes told me something useful. A remnant of what this body had been. But it is more than that. It can affect my emotions, I know that for sure. And now I believe that it is not so much a separate entity as a part of me, which becomes stronger in times of stress. Like when I’m fighting. Or most of these last few days. And I do not know if there are things she can do… or that I can do unconsciously when she is stronger, that I do not know of.”

“Well,” Herald said slowly. “That explains things somewhat. The problem is not that you are slipping into arrogance and cruelty after your success.”

“That is what you thought?”

“That is what I feared. But if what you say is true, then I see that the problem is that there is a part of you that is human, and it is so worried and ashamed of what she is doing that she can barely speak of it, while the rest of you is a tyrannical toddler throwing a tantrum because its world was turned upside down and someone took its favourite toy away.”

“What?” I said, not sure what I was hearing.

“You say your dragon is basically a baby. And I have spoken to the others. Are you aware that when you speak to them of me, half the time you call me ‘the Herald,’ rather than Herald? And it is no wonder if it is as you say. Dragons do not make relationships with humans the way humans do with each other, I am sure. To the human part of you I am a friend, but to the dragon part of you I am a possession.” She smiled wryly. “I cannot say that I am pleased about that, and it makes me worry about why you brought us here, specifically. But I also cannot blame you, either part of you. It sounds as though the human Draka has not been making the decisions lately, and the dragon, well… she is just a baby. She does not know better. You cannot blame a baby for its actions, can you?”

Perhaps I should have just taken the win. Herald was taking all of this very calmly, though already knowing that I was a human shoved into a dragon’s body must have helped. She was giving me what was pretty much a free pass, but I felt… unsatisfied. Defensive, almost. I had done her wrong. I had been cruel to Mak, much harsher than she deserved, even once I knew her motivations. Her acceptance was almost worse than any condemnation I’d expected.

Maybe I felt guilt. Maybe I wanted her to blame me. To hate me for what I had done.

“You cannot be serious!" I told her. “My dragon may be young but she is totally rational. She is more eloquent than I am. You cannot just say, ‘Oh, that is children for you, what can you do?’ She is responsible! I am responsible!”

“Perhaps you are. But if you are two halves of one mind, as you seem to think, could she not simply be using your adult faculties, while her own emotions and motivations control what she does with that? Those of a selfish child?”

All the dragon wanted was to fulfil its base desires. Food, gold, comfort, and to punish those who frustrated that fulfilment. She didn’t really make long-term plans. Our shared desire for revenge on the Blossom was the closest she came, and her – My? Our? – plan there had been ‘Find her immediately, and tear her apart in front of a crowd.’

“Perhaps,” I said hesitantly, and Herald smiled, sighed, and laid down against me.

I was not satisfied, but she was, and that would have to do.