Dragon (22 page)

I turn back from looking at the village, and watch my father and Ram carefully. I know Ram can communicate perfectly well without words, especially now that his face is uncovered, and I wouldn’t be surprised if my father shares his talent.

Ram lifts both eyebrows in a gesture like surrender, and my father looks surprised, then glances at me.

Just as I suspected, they’re talking without words. In spite of my exhaustion, I’m alert, watching them carefully, unconvinced they’ve shared all their secrets with me.

“How much does she know?” My father whispers. Perhaps he suspects I can read their faces as well as they can read each other. In the case of Ram, I very nearly can.

“Of the wedding? Everything.”

“And of Eudora’s plans?”

“She knows as much as I know—that Eudora intends to prevent our union. She’s bent on eliminating dragons from the earth—judging from the number of yagi we’ve slain on our way home, she’s quite determined.”

“Hmm.” My father’s lips twitch as he listens to Ram’s report. I realize now, looking at him, that he doesn’t look any older than the last time I saw him or the last time I was in the village, or ever. And yet, according to Ram’s claim, my father is more than 200 years old. I can almost see it in his eyes, which are a startling bright scarlet-orange.

“How much trouble did the yagi give you?” My father asks.

“We managed,” Ram says simply.

“The yagi weren’t as bad as Ion,” I offer. “He kept trying to drag me off.”

My father nods sharply. “That’s it. That’s her plan. The yagi were just a distraction. Not that they aren’t dangerous, of course. But they were mostly there to keep you busy so Ion could deliver Ilsa to Eudora.”

His explanation fits with what my instinct told me all along. “Why is Eudora so determined to get her hands on me?”

Ram and my father exchange worried looks.

“What’s the latest word?” Ram asks in hushed tones.

“My spies say it’s ready. She hasn’t been able to test it, of course. That’s why she’ll stop at nothing to capture a test subject.”

“Me?” I guess in a whisper. Maybe I’m picking up on their non-verbal cues, or maybe it’s just because of my limited knowledge of Eudora, but I suspect that whatever it is Eudora wants to test, it’s probably related to her experiments that ultimately killed my mother.

Whether it’s the thought of that, or simply the fact that I’ve been walking and standing for far too long in spite of my utter exhaustion, I slump against Ram unsteadily.

He props me up, half hugging me, half carrying me as he climbs the steps and guides me through the front door. We sit, exhausted, on a sofa, and I lean against Ram while my father runs to the kitchen, returning with coffee and the promise of meat.

I clasp the warm cup with both hands, letting the heat seep through my fingers as I sip.

“We should get you to bed,” Ram suggests. “You need to sleep.”

I shake my head. “The wedding—”

“Won’t be until this evening at the earliest,” my father finishes my sentence. “Until then, rest is the best thing for you.”

“I’ll rest after I’ve eaten. Until then, tell me what Eudora’s up to. Please. I’m tired of secrets.”

Something passes between Ram and my father. I’m too drowsy to catch it all—most of my attention is focused on raising my coffee cup to my lips without spilling any. But I think Ram communicated, in that effective wordless way of his, that my father does need to tell me everything.

I’m grateful he’s finally on my side on that issue.

My father clears his throat. “It’s a serum. For decades Eudora’s been working on a serum to change dragons into humans. She thought she had it figured out nineteen years ago when she sent word throughout the dragon world that she could transform anyone from dragon to human.”

“Wait—the dragon world, what is that?”

“Dragons and their supporters,” my father explains. “Everyone in my kingdom and Ram’s kingdom is part of the dragon world, even though only the three of us are dragons. The dragon community has traditionally been connected through messengers who travel from one village or island to the next, sharing news. It’s not known how many actual dragons there are left, because most of them live in hiding, their true identity kept secret for their safety. Your mother was one of those. Those closest to her were aware of what she truly was, but she didn’t let on to outsiders.”

“So, a messenger brought word to my mother that Eudora could transform dragons into humans, and…she went?”

Pain crosses my father’s face. “This is the cost, you know, of living in hiding, keeping the secret of who were really are. She felt so…alone. Her parents were long gone, killed in the battles against dragons centuries before. She had her kingdom, yes, and they loved her, but she had no hope for the future, no children, no reason to keep going. She believed—strange as it may sound—that dragons no longer have a place in this world. That we should have all died off long ago, buried with our legends and heroes of old. That she’d been passed over. And this was her chance to rectify that.”

I could have told him that I didn’t think it sounded strange, not strange at all, but I don’t want to interrupt his story.

“So, she went to Eudora, to her fortress deep in the wilderness of Siberia. But even before Eudora attempted to use the serum on her, Eudora shared with your mother her ideas and philosophies, about destroying all dragons, about ridding the kingdoms of the dragon world of their protectors. Your mother began to doubt whether she’d made the right choice. In fact, she started to think perhaps we dragons ought to try harder to work together—that we’ve feared one another far too long, but should instead band together, united by our common dragoness.

“But when she told Eudora she’d changed her mind, Eudora flew into a rage. They fought—your mother fought to escape, but she was alone and Eudora had all her yagi to help her. Eudora chained her in her dungeon. She would have used her serum on her, but your mother stayed in dragon form, and she couldn’t inject it, not past her scales. It wasn’t for lack of trying, though.

“Fortunately, I’d been keeping a close eye on Eudora ever since her announcement. I feared what she might do, and rightly so. When I learned what was happening, I traveled there personally to help your mother escape.

“She was in very rough shape—her wings torn, her body bruised. Eudora had been merciless. We managed to escape, but your mother was not strong enough to travel far. I kept your mother safe for as long as I could. We fell in love. She laid your egg. You were her every hope, her every dream for the future. She made me promise that I’d keep you safe—that even if she had to die,” pain cuts off my father’s words. He takes a shaky breath and concludes, “You’d be safe. She’d live on through you and your children.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

I’m dumbfounded by my father’s story. Not that there are too many surprises—Ram effectively told me the gist of it. But hearing it from my father, who lived it and loved her, something settles in the pit of my stomach—the determination to see her dreams fulfilled, to carry on her legacy, and all that.

My father brings in meat and we eat while he finishes his explanation. “Eudora still wants to use the serum. She still wants to defeat the last of the dragons, to purge the earth of us.”

“That’s why Ion was trying to capture me, instead of just killing me?”

“Precisely.”

“Why didn’t Ion insert the serum into me? He’s had plenty of opportunities.”

Ram clears his throat. “Eggs?”

My father looks thoughtful. “Faye told me everything she could recall about Eudora’s plans, about her philosophies. Eudora claimed she wanted to destroy all dragons, but she also tried very hard to convert Faye. It was almost as though she wanted a follower, more than she wanted to destroy her.”

“And look at Ion,” I point out between bites of meat. “She could try out her serum on him, if she really wanted to, but she hasn’t.”

“She always said the best weapon against a dragon is another dragon.” Ram reminds us.

“You know that old saying, ‘if you can’t beat them, join them?’ One of the girls at Saint Evangeline’s used to turn that around. She’d say, ‘if they won’t join you, beat them.’ Think maybe that’s Eudora’s philosophy, too? She wants us to be on her side, but failing that, she wants us dead?”

My father raises both eyebrows. “I think you’ve got it. But what’s her plan?”

“And how do we stop her?” Ram adds.

I don’t have an answer for that, and I’ve finished my meat. Ram helps me to my childhood bedroom—which, I realize now, is in the center of the house, not only the most secure location in the house, but arguably the most secure in the whole town. My father took seriously his promise to my mother, to keep me safe, didn’t he?

I barely make it to the bed before I fall into an exhausted sleep.

*

I awaken to wedding preparations in progress. Whatever Eudora’s up to, no one seems willing to let her potential plans get in the way of my future happiness, or my matrimony. I bathe and wash my hair properly for the first time in a week, and step into the gold and white lace gown that appeared in my room while I slept.

The face in the mirror is me but not me. I look older, or bonier, or something. Not skinny. Just more mature. My cheeks less round, more womanly. If that’s a thing. And most notably, my eyes have turned a jewel-toned amethyst color that fits me better than the ruddy brown before.

Mahira, a woman who helped take care of me when I was young, who was elderly then and who has visibly aged since I’ve been gone, arrives to braid my hair, weaving ribbons and jewels into the plaits. And then my father appears. He looks distinguished in a traditional embroidered suit.

“Is it time?” I ask.

“Not yet. I only came to see you because I couldn’t wait. I’ve missed you.” He gives me a hug. “They’re still setting up chairs in the village square. Ram’s tribe has been invited, and they’re trying to squeeze everyone in. It’s a very large crowd.”

“Any sign of Eudora?”

I expect my father to pat my hand and assure me that all will be fine, but instead he looks concerned. “Some villagers traveling from Ram’s tribe have reported seeing yagi in the mountains. No one has been attacked or hurt, that we know of, but it would seem she’s on the move.”

“What are we going to do?” I smooth down my dress, which is lovely, but I feel so exposed without my swords. “I need a weapon. Should I wear my daggers under my dress?”

My father might have laughed off the suggestion, but he doesn’t. “Good idea. The ceremonial swords will be on the table with the rest of the symbolic weapons, in front of the wedding bower. Ram will be wearing his swords. If it’s any help, I think Eudora would rather capture you than kill you. I don’t know if she’ll try to use the serum on you, except as a last resort.”

“You mentioned she couldn’t use it on mother when she was a dragon, because of her scales?”

“Yes. She used a needle-syringe. It won’t penetrate our scales. We’re armored, except for our eyes and inside our mouths. Keep your mouth shut and your eyes guarded, and you’ll be fine.”

“What about the villagers? Is it wise to let the crowd gather when there could be danger?”

“Our villagers are all drilled in evacuation plans. There are many exits to the caves accessible from the village square. We’re passing this information along to our guests. But I don’t think we need to worry about the people, except to get them out of the way of flames and swords and yagi. Eudora has never shown any inclination to hurt people. It’s only the dragons she’s concerned with.”

My father meets my eyes solemnly. For not the first time since I’ve been back, I notice his are a bright scarlet-orange, vividly jewel-toned, which is not how I remember them. “Your eyes used to be a reddish-brown,” I murmur, not intending to change the subject or even speak out loud.

“I covered them up with contacts when you were little—anything to keep us hidden. But there’s no point covering them now. You know where I am. So does Eudora. I don’t know where we’re going to hide you if she arrives while you’re still here.”

“What? Still here? Where am I going?”

“Back with Ram to his side of the mountain. It’s only a short flight from here, but he’s got a more secure fortress. I tried to hide in plain sight, you know, nothing too fortified—I didn’t want to attract suspicion. He took a slightly different approach. If Eudora knows you’re around, you’ll be safer there than here. But where to hide you if she shows up before then, I don’t know. I’d send you into the caves with the others, but what if she follows you?”

“I won’t endanger the people.”

“There’s the tower, I suppose,” my father continues thoughtfully.

“Why should I hide?”

“To keep you safe.”

“Why can’t I fight her?”

“No, no—”

“I’ve fought Ion and the yagi. I can defend myself.”

“Ilsa, please. Be sensible. You are the last hope of the dragon world. We can’t endanger you in any way.” He knits his face into an expression of resolve. “The tower, then. It’s the only secure place where you can be sure you won’t endanger innocent civilians. If Eudora attacks before you and Ram leave town, flee to the tower. Promise me?”

What is it with my dad and promises? I am not a coward who turns my back and runs. But he doesn’t know me, or doesn’t know the eighteen-year-old me. Only the eight-year-old me. I haven’t had a chance to show him I can defend myself.

And now is not the time. So I nod, the same nod I’ve seen Ion and Ram use, the deferential, almost-a-bow nod. “I may have to defend myself on the way to the tower,” I warn him.

“Yes, of course.” He’s smiling now. He wants me to be safe, and I’ve agreed to his plan, and now he’s happy. We step through the house toward the front windows, and he looks outside to see how the wedding preparations are coming along.

I look, too, but my thoughts are not on the hundreds, even thousands of chairs being set in rows in the square. I am thinking of how I might defend myself from Eudora without breaking my promise to my father.

It’s a tricky question to answer, because I don’t just want to chase her away. If I’m going to be laying eggs or bearing dragon babies, or whatever, I don’t want to have to worry about her swooping in now and then to try to kill them or carry them off. I don’t want to live in fear anymore, or fight this battle any longer than I have to.