Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen (46 page)

BOOK: Isle of Wysteria: The Reluctant Queen
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Privet tried to get up, but a jolt of pain shot through his body. A tendril of dragonfire had licked his ankle. The sensation of the skin melting away was indescribably bitter. The edges of his vision began to cloud. He could feel himself passing out. He tried to move, but Setsuna clung fast. He tried to move her, but when his hand touched her back it encountered something wet and bubbling. As she whimpered, he brought his hand up, and found it covered in green blood.

Privet tried to pick her up and come to his feet, but the pain in his leg made his vision go dark. Vaguely, he heard gunshots and screaming, but he could not guess where they were coming from.

Then all was dark.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Bubbles, rising around. Crushing weight. Relentless, constant, exhausting. Privet opened his eyes, but they were not his eyes. Or were they? All around him was a graveyard. Decayed buildings, ready to topple over. Carts and wagons stopped in the middle of decrepit roads. Spoiled food, the bones of children, and chains.

Glowing with a dark light, they held him fast. His wrists chafed and bled where they touched his ruined skin, but never to numbness. He opened his mouth, his lungs were filled with stinging seawater, but he did not drown. His feet and shoulders were anchored by the weight of the chains.

In vain, he looked up for relief, salvation, mercy, but he found none. Only the broiling and frothing surface of the ocean, far far above.

And yet, he was not completely helpless. Not completely defeated. Privet had been saving it, little by little, building it up over time, like winding string into a ball. Slowly, almost imperceptibly it had grown over time, until now it was ready.

He looked up and saw something. Just above the surface of his watery prison, a tiny ship was passing by. On it was a Nallorn tree, and a young couple caring for it. Privet could not believe his luck. Reaching inside himself, he took the gift and reached out. The chains had been lulled into complacency over time; they were slow to react. By the time they realized what he was doing, it was already too late. Privet handed the gift to the young couple, and all his hopes and dreams along with it. The chains clamped down on him, angry at his defiance. They pinned him down against the sea floor, cutting into his wrists and ankles, strangling his neck and waist. Privet took it all and more with a smile, absorbing every wound in the knowledge that he had beaten them. They were not his arms, but he could feel them ache, they were not his legs, but he could feel them cramp. But somehow, it was his dream.

His gift had been planted.

Through the fog in his mind, Privet had the nebulous sensation that he was being carried. He opened his eyes, but all he could see were the sweaty folds in Hanner’s neck.

“In here,” came a voice, and Privet felt himself change directions. The level of light went down, and he was flipped onto his back, laid down on something cold and rocky.

His eyes trying to focus, he moved to speak, but a calloused hand was forced over his mouth, bidding him to silence. As his vision cleared, Privet realized they were in a shallow cave beneath one of the stone outcroppings. From the shadows outside, he could see that the sun was now at its midday peak. Hours must have passed.

After several breathless minutes, Athel worked her way to the opening of the cave and peered out. “I think we lost it,” she whispered. Everyone sighed in relief.

“Tenacious soul-sucking lizard,” Captain Evere swore as Mina checked the blood-soaked bandages around his neck.

“He’s still bleeding,” Mina said, worriedly. Dr. Griffin checked Setsuna’s bandages, which were also soaked all the way through.

“Something is preventing their blood from clotting,” he announced worriedly. “I've only seen a curse like this once before.”

Ryin shifted his weight from side to side. “That weird void barrier back on Thesda, the one that stripped all the skin off my feet.”

Dr. Griffin nodded.

Alder put down his pack and pulled out some fresh bandages. “Are we to understand, then, that dragons also use void magic?” he asked as he passed the bandages to Dr. Griffin.

“It certainly seems that way.”

“No, that was not void magic,” Privet groaned as he carefully pulled his blood-filled boot off. “When I was looking into it, I saw what it was made of.”

“Yeah, when you stood there waiting to be roasted like a brainless swamp grub,” Setsuna coughed, looking very pale. “Which basic principal of swordfighting was that one?”

“I...I couldn’t move. Privet admitted. “But it wasn’t from fear. It felt like...”

“Like what lad?”

“I dunno, like being born, I guess. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Regardless of what it is,” Dr. Griffin interrupted as he laid a new layer of bandages over Setsuna’s back. “If we don’t do something fast, they will all die.”

“But you were able to fix my feet,” Ryin said.

“Yes, but none of my healing potions and spells will work here,” Dr. Griffin explained, rather lucidly for him. “If we don’t get them off the island they will bleed to death.”

“How are we going to do that?” Ryin exclaimed. “That ‘neutral’ thing fried our transport, and it’s probably still out there. This moss-eater led us right into a trap.”

“No, I didn’t,” Setsuna coughed. “I've come here for years and it’s always been the same. They leave us alone, we leave them alone. Something must have happened to make them act this way.”

“We don’t even know which way the ship is,” Captain Evere pointed out. “We've been running in circles for hours, and by the time the sun moves far enough it might be too late.”

“What about your compass?” Mina asked.

“It was in the longboat, along with all of our emergency supplies.”

“And my locator spells won’t work here either.”

Athel reached out and touched a small tuft of grass growing near the entrance. “This is so weird,” she said, “I can’t speak to them at all.”

Alder perked up and took out a sewing needle from his kit. “Mr. Tamarack, may I borrow your edging stone for a moment?”

“Um, yeah, sure,” Privet said, pulling it out of his pocket and tossing it over. Alder tested it by holding it over the needle. The needle jumped up and stuck to it. Satisfied, Alder began running the sewing needle over the stone over and over again in the same direction.

“What are you doing, lad?”

Tossing the stone back to Privet, Alder pulled out a teacup and filled it with some water from his pouch.

“Holy anvils, he’s making tea,” Ryin complained.

Tearing a little piece of paper from his bag, Alder gently lowered the sewing needle onto the surface of the water. The paper flattened out, allowing the needle to float. Despite protests from the others, Alder kept his gaze fixed as the needle slowly oriented itself. “That is magnetic-north,” Alder said, pointing in the direction of the needle. “At this latitude, true north is thirteen degrees to the west of it.” Alder moved his finger correspondingly. “We approached the Isles from the south-west, so the airship is this way,” he said pointing with his other finger.

Everyone looked at Alder in amazement.

“When did you become so darn useful?” Ryin said, clucking his tongue.

“He’s always been useful,” Athel praised, slapping him on the back.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” Dr. Griffin asked, examining the teacup.

Alder blinked. “If I couldn’t do at least this much, what kind of house-husband would I be?”

Privet chuckled as he wrapped up his ankle. “In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.”

“What does that mean?” Margaret asked as she looked up from her notebook.

“It means that Alder has had his whole life to learn to live without magic. Now that it’s gone, he’s the most useful person here.”

“Yeah, well knowing where the ship is only solves half the problem,” Captain Evere grunted as he sat down. “The ship is quite a ways off shore. Even if we hike there, there’s no way to get up to it without the longboat.”

“Maybe we could find a way to signal Odger,” Alder suggested.

Captain Evere snickered, a trickle of blood running down his chest. “Even an experienced sailor would have trouble guiding in the Dreadnaught in her current configuration. The winds have to be just right. Besides, Odger is crazier than an outhouse rat.”

Athel took Alder’s pack and pulled out several blankets.

“What are you doing, lass.”

“Time is against us,” Athel said. “Debating this only makes it worse. If we stay here we die, so our only choice is to move.”

“Those are long odds, lass.”

“Then we move and we also pray!” Athel snapped. “But we move nonetheless.”

Athel looked around to see if anyone objected. When no one did, she turned to Dr. Griffin. “What can we do to improve their chances?”

Dr. Griffin took off his multi-lensed glasses and rubbed his eyes. “The cold is the biggest concern. The more blood they lose, the more their body heat drops. If we strip them down and wrap them up tight they can share body heat. That should give them the most time.”

“Wait, strip them what?” Privet asked.

Setsuna raised up her hand and wiggled it around like a little kid. “I volunteer to be wrapped up with Pwivet.”

Dr. Griffin nodded. “Okay, so I'll wrap up Privet and Setsuna together...”

Athel smacked him on the back of the head. “You can’t wrap them up together!”

“Well, why not?”

Athel’s face blushed a bright red. “Well, because he’s a...I mean, she’s a...they're...”

“Because it wouldn’t be proper,” Alder clarified.

“Yeah, what he said.”

Dr. Griffin shrugged and put his glasses back on. “Fine, then I'll wrap up Captain Evere with Setsuna.”

“Awww,” Setsuna pouted, putting her arm back down.

Mina smacked Dr. Griffin on the back of the head, this time knocking his glasses off. “You are not wrapping up my husband with her.”

“Don’t trust him, eh?” Setsuna teased. “I don’t blame you. I am pretty cute, after all.”

Mina bent over, her lavender eyes gleaming cruelly. “I just don’t want him to get any diseases.”

Setsuna cackled. “Of the two of us, only one needs a flea bath.”

Mina growled, revealing sharp fangs.

“Hey, she does not have fleas,” Captain Evere protested, scratching the back of his head.

Dr. Griffin put his glasses back on. “Well, I suppose I could wrap Evere and Privet together...”

“Hey!” Privet and Captain Evere protested in unison.

“...but we would need someone to stay behind and be wrapped up with Setsuna. Preferably someone who doesn’t bring much to the table, so we'd be losing as little utility as possible. Normally I’d suggest Alder, but in this case...”

Everyone turned to look at Margaret, who was scribbling away in her notebook. She slowly looked up, and noticed everyone looking at her. “What?” she squeaked.

A few minutes later, Athel, Alder, Hanner, Strenner, Ryin, and Mina ran out from underneath the outcropping and began making their way towards the airship, while Dr. Griffin stayed behind with the wounded. At first, they darted quickly from rock to rock, their eyes constantly searching the skies for any sign of the dragon, but they did not see any. Either it was too high to discern in the mists, or it had moved on. Either way, they moved as quickly and softly as shadows, hoping to avoid drawing any attention to themselves.

After an hour or so, with no sign of their attacker, their guard came down and they focused on the task of walking. Athel couldn’t help but notice how slow Alder was moving. He seemed drained, paler than usual. Every time she offered to take his pack he'd politely refuse. Whenever she brought it up, he'd change the subject. He rarely complained about anything; it was one of the things that drew her to him. His inner strength. But, it also made it impossible to help him when he needed it, and right now he really seemed to need it.

Athel’s thoughts were cut short when something grabbed her foot and she toppled to the ground.

“My Lady, are you all right?” Alder asked, kneeling down to help her up.

“Yeah, I think so,” Athel said, rolling over and looking down. Her foot had snagged on something curling up out of the ground like a root. When she pulled her foot, it came free.

“Do you know what this is?” Ryin gasped, picking it up. “This is a piece of dragon bone!”

Athel snatched it away from him and felt the weight in her hand. “It’s so light,” she commented. Mina sniffed it, her long white tail waving suspiciously.

“Light, but incredibly strong,” Ryin said, his eyes alight. “My ohma used to say that in ancient times the greatest Ferran weaponsmiths would be allowed to craft using dragon bone. She said that in the hands of a master it could be worked like steel, that it could hold an edge so sharp it could cut the very air. A blade that would never dull, even if you cut stone with it.”

“Why would you cut stone with a sword?” Alder asked.

“That’s not the point,” Ryin said. “The point is that even alchemic steel is nothing but junk compared to this.” Ryin jammed it into his pack.

“You can’t take that,” Mina warned.

“Why the forge not?” Ryin asked.

“Yeah, it’s just a husk,” Athel put in. “It’s not like the dragon it came from needs it anymore.”

Mina’s fox-like ears twitched. “You think you're the first person to realize that dragonbone has legendary properties? So, let me ask you this, Colenat. Why don’t people come here all the time and bring some back with them?”

Ryin looked at her stupidly.

“You get that thing’s scent on you, and those dragons will chase you to the ends of the world to kill you for it. I know, because some guys from the Arnaud Guild tried it a while back and the dragons hunted them down and dragged their whole ship into the sea with them.”

“So, you talked to the guy who was there?” Ryin asked.

“Well...no, but his cousin’s friend was part of the convoy.”

“See, that’s how it always is with rumors,” Ryin criticized sharply. “It’s never anyone you actually met, it’s always the cousin of a friend. Until you actually go talk to them, and then you find out that it was actually their uncle’s roommate or something. No matter how far back you go, you can never actually find the person who was supposedly there...”

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