Damsel Knight (5 page)

She jumps, coming back to her senses with a jolt. Snatching up the sword she backs up until she's away from the dragon, next to the pillar Neven stands by. The dragon doesn't move, still staring at her.

Neven's eyes widen when he sees the blood, but Bonnie shakes her head. "It's a nick at best."

Neven has the stone pillar between him and the dragon, his shield gripped in one hand. He glances between her and the dragon, face pale. "Why didn't you kill it?" He gestures a hand toward the crouching dragon. "You're never going to get a better chance than this. It's under some kind of spell or something."

"I can't Neven. I…" Her heart hammers in her chest, tongue searching for some explanation that won't make her sound as weak as she feels. "I want to earn my knighthood, not get it on some kind of fluke because a spell stopped it fighting back. It wouldn't be honourable to kill him when he's like this."

Neven presses his lips together, looking unconvinced. "I don't think you need to worry about it having a fair fight when it's the size of a castle!"

Bonnie shakes her head, eyes locked on the beautiful, horrible creature that towers over them both. She should hate him. Why can't she bring herself to hate him? She's been planning this day for years, and now he's right where she needs him, she can't do it. She can't bring herself to kill him while he's helpless. "We take him back to the King," she says. "We get him to break the spell, then I avenge my parents in an honourable fight. My father would expect no less."

"Brilliant," Neven says, staying his side of the pillar. "I'll just scoot over in the boat to fit it in. I'm sure Jack won't mind."

"We'll find a way," Bonnie says. She keeps the sword handle clenched tightly in a fist, and one eye on the dragon. Whatever magic is affecting the beast, she knows it could break at any moment. She wonders if she'll still feel the same way about wanting it to fight back when it's drowning them with fire. She wonders if whatever sentimentality stalled her hand before will show up again, even when she's defending her life. "We have to."

Chapter 6

"Do you get the feeling we're forgetting something?" Bonnie asks as they skirt around the field of bones. The dragon stands between them and the castle, its black eyes wide and curious.

"Your senses," Neven says without hesitation. He leans back, putting all his weedy strength into tugging at the makeshift halter around the zombie cow's head. It stares at him vacantly, chewing its cud. "But I think you lost those a long time ago."

Bonnie uses the flat of her sword to tap the cow's hind end, and it finally walks forward again. However magic brought it into the world, it didn't include any wits. It manages a shambling monotonous walk once it gets the momentum, but all it takes is a stone in the wrong place, or dips and humps in the terrain and it freezes.

She thinks of the long path of hills and slopes she'd traversed to get here and sighs. This wouldn't be an easy journey, but she could think of no other way to get the dragon to follow them.

"It's not working," Neven says, frustration burning in his voice. "How are we going to get back to the boat in time, if your stupid dragon won't come?"

She can hear the answer he wants behind the words. We can't, so leave him here. Anger may have pushed away most of his fear, but that doesn't mean he wants the dragon to come with them. He knows just the same as she does, that whatever is stopping the dragon from harming them is a spell, and spells can be broken.

"Here dragon, dragon, dragon," she says instead, fighting against the heat that rushes to her cheeks. At least it's only Neven she's making a fool of herself in front of. "Come get the nice zombie cow."

"Nice side of beef!" Neven calls out in the kind of voice sellers use at the market. "As fresh as you can get it!"

The dragon moves a giant foot, making the pile of charred bones clatter with the impact. For a moment she thinks that's it, then he makes another step, closing the distance between them. The footsteps are giant, but still manage to look shuffling compared to its size. Every time a clawed foot comes down the cow is the only one not to jump.

One moment he is far away, the next he towers over them, blocking out the sunlight. Her heart skitters in her chest like a frightened animal as his giant head descends toward them, its lethal smile spread wide.

She scrabbles for her sword at the same time Neven squeaks, dropping the cow's halter. Then the head is flying upward again, the cow gazing nonchalantly from between its jaws.

"My rope!" Neven says in a voice somewhere between hysterical and indignant.

A moment later there's a stomach turning crunch of bone, along with the wet ripping of tissue. A splash of blood and stringy tissue sprays all around them. The cow's severed head falls to the ground, bounces twice, then rolls to rest at Neven's feet. The halter is still attached.

"Thanks. I think." Neven stares down at the cow's head with its roughly torn neck. His tanned skin takes on a shade of grey, then decides to add a splash of green.

The cow's dull eye rolls toward him and blinks.

Neven screams at the same time Bonnie jumps. Both move back several hasty steps.

"That's it!" Neven shouts, a spray of red exiting his mouth with the words. His face and clothes are covered with it, and several chunks of flesh stick to the folds of his tunic. "I'm done! You've done some pretty stupid things Bonnie, but this one takes the biscuit. What made you think you can kill it? It's as big as a castle, and even if it weren't, you're a maid and I'm a farmer's son. You should be home with your new husband, and I should be training to be a soldier. Neither of us is right for this kind of thing."

Bonnie shakes her head stubbornly. "Ness said-"

"Ness is as pigheaded as they come, but he wouldn't actually try to kill a dragon. Or if he did come, he'd turn right around once his feet hit the shore and be happier for it. I never thought I'd say this, but he's got more sense than you. This is knight's work, and the work of royal sorts who have hours to waste learning how. The ones with great big manly beards and armour with enough shine to blind their enemies. Not an orphan girl and some boy like me."

"My father was a knight," Bonnie says, her blood starting to boil. "The greatest dragon slayer the circle ever saw. They recruited him from beyond the barrier itself because he was so good at it. I'm his blood."

"You're a girl!" Neven shouts. "It should be me protecting you. Instead you run off and try to kill dragons, then end up bringing them back as pets! Which is beyond stupid because by all rights you should be dead now. It's a dragon, Bonnie. You know the tales. You heard Jack. Dragons kill. That's all they do. I don't know what spell caused it to stop, but the moment it ends we're both dead. You know that."

He's right. That's the worst thing. She knows he's right. Tears choke at her throat. She blinks, and takes a deep breath to chase them away before she speaks. "What would you have me do?"

"Leave it," Neven says firmly. "Knighthood, riches, even the kingdom isn't worth your life. If we hurry we might still make the boat. Leave it here with its castle, and its-"

He breaks off, mouth gaping open and closed like a fish.

"Neven. What is it?" She glances at the dragon, but the massive beast is doing nothing more than crouching on the grass, lapping blood from its claws like a giant cat.

He turns back to her, eyes sparkling. "I think we're the only people to storm a castle to kill a dragon, and forget to rescue the princess."

***

The tower seems to go on forever. The rough stones rub her fingers raw before she's halfway up. It could be worse, she tells herself. The tower was made for a difficult climb, but not an impossible one. The walls could be smooth as silk. Instead they jut out at odd angles from each other, providing handholds.

Still, by the time she reaches the top her skin is covered in sweat.

She levers herself onto the ledge, gasping. She might have been the best climber in their village, excepting for Mr Moore whose job it was to fix the roofs, but climbing a tower is a lot different than climbing a tree. Her arms and legs feel like jelly. How did the King expect anyone to slay a dragon the size of a castle, then climb this thing? Who would go through that much effort for a wife?

Metal bars stand firm behind the ledge, surrounding a small balcony. Flowers of a dozen different sizes and colours decorate the dark metal and rise up to climb the walls. Pretty wooden boxes border the edges in such numbers that there remains only a small patch of smooth marble right in the middle of the floor. Each one has a different plant. She recognises carrots and strawberries, but most are foreign to her.

Gingerly she steps over the balcony onto the patch of marble. Behind the balcony is a giant pair of ornate doors, bordered in gold, and filled almost completely up by coloured glass so dark that she can see the merest of shapes behind them. She ignores them for now, turning back to the railing to tie one end of the rope hung over her shoulder around the bars.

It's a good thing Neven brought so much rope. She drops the other end and it falls just short of where tiny far away Neven waits on the ground. They’d decided only one of them should make the climb, and both of them knew it had to be her. Neven’s a lot stronger than he looks, but she beats him hands down at climbing - or any physical activity for that matter.

The dragon sits watching them both with curiosity in his black eyes, but makes no move toward either of them. The spell may wear off, but for now it’s holding. Bonnie takes a deep breath, turning away as Neven clambers up the wall to grab the rope.

The glass of the doors is cool under her hand. They open at the lightest touch of her fingers, as if waiting for her to come. What’s behind the door takes her breath away.

The room is gigantic. The curved walls are a soft cream with the same gold edging as the doors. Shining staircases wind around the walls, reaching up to door upon door. The furniture in the main room is beyond beautiful. One circle shaped bed sits in the centre of the room, big enough to hold six grown men without danger of anyone of them touching the other. A gold encrusted vanity table holds a mirror taller than Bonnie herself. Various elegant tables dot around the room, each one groaning under the weight of plants. Plant pots cover the floor as well, and a pretty climbing plant that looks like a bright blue coloured ivy spirals all the way up the giant winding staircase.

And right there in the middle of it all stands a girl, frozen mid step with her hands around a plant pot nearly as big as herself. She’s as beautiful as the room. Tightly bound ringlets, as dark as Gelert’s eyes, tumble over the shoulders of a blue gown. Bright green eyes stare wide in shock from a heart shaped face, their colour as vivid as the most polished of emeralds.

Slowly the girl puts the plant pot down.

“My apologies,” the girl says in a voice as finely tuned as the rest of her. Everything about her, from the elegant way she holds herself, to her rosy pink cheeks reminds Bonnie more of some fanciful painting than a real girl. The only tarnish to this perfect image are the smudges of soil on her face and hands, but as she watches, even those fade as if they’d never been there. “I am Princess Alice. I wasn’t expecting company. I fear my stomach is too delicate for blood, or I would have watched your courageous battle and known to expect you. Please enter my brave champion.”

Bonnie squints at the flowery words, but understands enough to know she’s been invited in. She steps into the room, taking in all the sights she hadn’t of yet. Over in a corner a watering can was hanging in mid-air, drifting from pot to pot to feed the plants. Perched on the corner of a table not completely taken over by plants, a silver spoon circles around and around in a small china cup. Up on the staircase, a sheet is hanging itself up to dry on a banister.

A sudden warmth covers her skin, almost painful. She glances down to see Neven’s clothes are spotless and well mended for the first time she can remember. The murky grey trousers are now a pale brown, and the top a gleaming white. She raises her hands to her face. The skin is pink and burns like someone has come along and scrubbed all the dirt off, then a couple layers of skin for good measure. Her nails are trimmed, buffed to a shine, and have not a spot of dirt under them.

It’s weird. If this is what magic does, she wants as far away from it as possible.

“This isn’t right,” the princess says, frowning. She turns to glance at a mop hopping past with a bucket. “My father said that when my true love passes over that threshold all the magic would cease.”

True love. Gross. “Look. None of that matters now,” Bonnie says. “I need to get the dragon to the City, and whatever spell you have going on here means he won’t leave without you. So pack your things and let’s go.”

Panting comes from behind her as Neven clambers his way onto the balcony. The scraping sound of wood on marble tells her he’s knocked one of the plant beds.

Princess Alice blinks rapidly. “You did not slay the dragon?”

“Long story,” Bonnie says. “Now, could you hurry-”

Neven steps into the room beside her, breathing heavily while taking in his surroundings with wide eyes. His mouth drops open as he stares at his newly cleaned clothes and skin. Then the mop falls over, along with the bucket, splashing water toward them. On the other side of the room the watering can clatters to the floor in mid pour, then all around the room objects held together by magic fall to the ground.

The tower shakes, trembling under her newly mended shoes. Crashes resound left and right as plant pots fall off tables and smash into pieces. Shudders hammer the room until her very bones quake. An ugly cracking sound like thunder echoes off the curved walls, and just like that the walls are tearing apart, and chunks of ceiling rain down around them.

“What is that?” Neven shouts as he hurries to grab the princess’s hand and pull her toward the balcony. Even in the chaos, he still finds time to blush at the contact.

“True love,” Bonnie says, dodging a chunk of ceiling as big as her and rushing to the rope.