Shadows of the Realm (The Circle of Talia) (36 page)

“
Why didn’t you tell me that before we bonded?”

That was your teacher
’s job. I would have thought Avruellen was a better teacher than that.

“
Well, she probably mentioned something, but it didn’t sound that bad.”

Another thing. If we get caught, which is likely, don
’t say who sent us, or why. Secrecy is our biggest weapon at this point
.

A shuffling noise echoed in the distance. The panther led them toward it. They walked past their arrival point and further, to where the boat would have taken them, had they followed the path of the humans before them. There was a little more light in the direction they travelled, outlines emerging around them, as they had before entering the grotto.

Sinjenasta halted behind a large rock. Bronwyn heard his voice in her mind.
You can let go of my tail. Stay here and watch. Don’t make a sound
.

She obeyed. When he padded out from behind the relative safety of the rock, Bronwyn
’s heart skipped nervously. She dared to peek after him. He was sneaking toward the biggest creature she had ever seen. Instinctively Bronwyn knew it was a dragon. He, or she, appeared to be examining a boat. It may have been the one that had brought them here.

Was that the creature Drakon wanted dead? Bronwyn puzzled as to why he would want one of his own slaughtered. Better still, why didn
’t he just smite him down? He was a god, after all. The closer Sinjenasta was to the dragon, the more apparent it became that the dragon had a huge size advantage. Bronwyn thought of the panther as being a large, strong creature, but compared to the dragon he looked like a kitten. She was seized with fear for her creatura—he could not possibly defeat that monster; Bronwyn gripped the edge of the rock so hard her fingers hurt. Was it too late to make him come back? This could only end in disaster.

Sinjenasta crouched low as he skulked into the more illuminated region in which the dragon was standing, bronze lamp at his feet. His panther heart thumped loudly in his chest. He was within leaping distance. Adrenalin raced through his body as he drew back, then launched himself out of the shadows and toward the dragon
’s throat. Bronwyn could barely look. Would the dragon see him in time to defend itself? Apparently not. The panther landed on the creature’s back, between large, leathery wings. He dug razor claws in, to keep his grip, and without hesitating, clamped his jaws on the unsuspecting animal’s neck. The dragon let out a wild squeal. The noise shot through Bronwyn’s ears, leaving them ringing. Surely other dragons would hear and come down to help their comrade.

Bronwyn didn
’t want to see such a magnificent creature die. Avruellen had always told her what a great friend they were to humans. On the other hand, she definitely didn’t want to see Sinje die. The dragon was doing its best to dislodge the panther, but its short arms couldn’t reach behind that far. What the cat was doing was not going to kill the dragon, although he was obviously in a lot of pain. What was Sinje trying to do, wear it down?

Bronwyn heard the dragon speak in mind voice to her creatura.
Who are you? Why are you doing this? Let go before I’m forced to kill you
. Sinje didn’t answer; he just clamped his jaws down tighter. The dragon stopped dancing around and jumped in the river. He placed his back under the freezing water, totally submerging Sinje. Bronwyn couldn’t see what was happening any more, and forgetting all reason, ran to where they had commenced the melee.

She looked down and saw the dragon thrashing about in an effort to keep Sinje under water. Bronwyn wasn
’t sure how long panthers could hold their breath, however the dragon seemed as if he could stay there all day. The dragon tilted his large, scaly head up, locking eyes with Bronwyn. Vicious black orbs threatened her. She didn’t know what to do and was practically paralysed with fear. Jumping in to help didn’t appear to be a sensible option; maybe she should plead with the beast. It was probably too late for that and they did, still, have to try to kill him. What was she going to say, “Please, sir dragon, leave my friend alone so we can kill you?” She didn’t think so.

Time passed. Sinjenasta couldn’t hold out for much longer, but if he released his grip, the dragon would turn and kill him with his giant maw. Bronwyn shut her eyes to break the chain of fear the dragon created with his stare. Realmistry was almost useless against dragons; they had practically invented it. She drew her sword and jumped in, eyes still shut. She opened them underwater. She assumed she had one attempt at putting the blade in the creature
’s belly. She could see a darker mass in front of her. Hoping the dragon hadn’t turned Sinje toward her, she gathered force from the roiling water and used it to push her body toward the thrashing pair. Sword held out in front, she braced for the impact.

The blade, given to her by Avruellen, struck the dragon. Dense scales resisted for a moment, then gave way as Bronwyn released the rest of the water
’s energy. She could hear the death squeal from underwater. The sword lodged in the beast’s belly. She released her hold on it and returned to the surface, frantically swimming around to find Sinje. A red hue sullied the water. She hoped none of it belonged to her creatura.

Sinjenasta, realising the dragon had ceased thrashing, even moving, unlocked his jaws. He was almost out of breath; it was all he could do to push his nose into the sweet air. He wasn
’t sure what had happened, but when he saw Bronwyn, he was relieved she had decided to get involved. His relief was short-lived. Standing above them, at the edge of the stained water, taking in the whole scene, were two murderous-looking dragons.

Bronwyn followed Sinje
’s gaze and when she saw the massive creatures she knew they were in trouble. The young realmist’s heart pounded even harder at the realisation they had been caught. The brief belief they would exit the river alive disappeared, sinking heavily to rest as a great weight on the bottom of her mind.

“
I am Jazmonilly Accorterroza, Queen of Vellonia, and I want to know why you have killed my nephew.” Bronwyn groaned. Out of all the dragons in the world, they had to murder royalty. The fact she had murdered at all should have been a shock to her. The realmist had never killed before. She turned her head and saw the carcass floating on the water face down. What had she done? She had spilled blood, lots of it, to end another’s existence. Guilt and horror forced her to see herself in a different way. By the time the dragons fished her from the river to face the wrath of the Dragon Queen, she didn’t care what might happen.

23

Blayke sat quietly beside the neatly made bed. Agmunsten had managed to stabilise Arcon, and they had moved him to his own room. The young man sat and waited. The leader of The Circle had exhausted himself trying to save his patient. Zim had sent food in to Agmunsten after he had been shut away for more than a day and night. The servant conveying the meal had found him lying on the ground. Unable to wake him, she had called Zim, who had performed some basic healing and carried him to his room; Agmunsten would be okay, he was just exhausted. Arcon, on the other hand, remained frighteningly close to death. Agmunsten had only half-done the job.

As each minute passed with no change, Blayke worried more. Phantom had taken his place on the window-side table. The owl had not moved since Arcon’s arrival. Blayke knew Phantom would almost certainly die of grief if the old realmist died, and was almost sure he would too. The man lying in the bed was practically his father; he had been the one who had comforted him when he was sad, played with him as a young child, nursed him through every illness, and he was the person he clung to at night when he had woken from every dragon-spawned nightmare. He couldn’t see how he could live through the grief of losing Arcon and sobbed every time he thought about it.

Fang was a comfort. The rat stayed with him and tried to cheer him up, every now and then recounting some funny story or other about Arcon. Blayke also talked to the unmoving patient, hoping he heard. Blayke could hear muffled commotion outside the closed door. It sounded as if dragons were running past, some shouting as they went.

“
Fang, could you go and see what’s happening?” The rat nimbly climbed down the young man’s trouser leg and squeezed under the door.

Fang stayed close to the wall to avoid being trodden on by any passing dragons. People were small enough to notice him, but he doubted dragons were. It seemed as if the procession had passed, so the small creatura continued down the hallway following the noise. He wondered if any other rats dwelled within Vellonia, caves being an ideal hiding place, although there was probably not much food. A rat would be safe here, a dragon would not waste the energy to catch one for the pathetic amount of food it provided, and Fang had never heard of dragons being afraid of rodents. Many a poor rat had been unfairly killed by a terrorized house-wife.

His search took him down two flights of stairs—hard work. Scurrying along the hallway, he passed a familiar open door: the one that gave access to the caves below. Voices filtered up the stairway, angry dragons arguing. Fang started down. At the bottom he saw light coming from down the hall. Following it, he discovered a dungeon. He could see five dragons, their bulk filling the foyer, no room for even a creature as small as he to pass.

He crept as close as he could. Looking up to see the dragons’ faces so far away, yet so frighteningly large, was dizzying. Queen Jazmonilly was one of those arguing.
“They should be put to death.”

Then Zim.
“We can’t just kill them.”

“
They
just
killed Symbothial Accorterroza, may Drakon protect his soul.”

“
We don’t have the full story.”

“
There is no full story, son. He must have discovered them trespassing. God knows how they got in in the first place. Symbothial probably confronted them and was attacked.”

“
Mother, I’m at least saying we should consult Agmunsten first. We don’t even know who these two are. I sense she’s a realmist. The panther, as we all know, is of a particular breed that has been extinct for a very long time.” Zim said no more. All the dragons present knew what the panther symbolized, but none wanted to confront it. In addition, Zim recognised Bronwyn’s symbol. He could not yet tell his mother, it may throw distrust over any decision Agmunsten would make, if he woke up.

A third voice dared place itself between the arguing royals.
“You are upset, my Highness, and rightly so, however we must exercise patience. If we kill them without at least an explanation, we are no better than the humans think we are. As one is a human, Agmunsten must be consulted. In any case they cannot escape our cells, realmist or not. Let them stew awhile, and think about what may happen, whilst we discuss the issue.” Queen Jazmonilly bared her teeth.

“
I would see them put to death as soon as you have your information, Bertholimous. There can be no other way. Murder of a dragon in Vellonia itself? I need to inform my husband of the situation. Since you’re so willing to keep them alive, you can stand watch.” The queen pushed through the group, heading for the upper levels of Vellonia. Fang flattened himself against the wall.

Three other dragons followed her out, one almost squashing Fang with a swinging tail. Fang waited until Bertholimous made himself comfortable on a dusty bench seat; these cells had obviously lain vacant for some time. Blayke
’s creatura pushed through cobwebs as he made his way toward the row of cells. He found the first two stored foodstuffs, while the two opposite had closed doors.

The gap under the doors was tall enough to fit a plate underneath. Fang crawled under the first one. Sitting in the corner, barely illuminated by light filtering under the door, was a human, face resting on bent knees. Fang could barely make out the figure. The silhouette was smaller than Blayke
’s would have been; that was enough to tell Fang it was a woman. He couldn’t believe this woman, or any woman, could kill a dragon. She must be a special person—or extremely lucky.

There was nothing else he could find out about her, so he moved on to the next cell. The cell seemed empty until a pair of yellow-green eyes opened to stare straight at Fang. The creature must be very large if its eyes were anything to go by. The rat turned around and scampering as fast as he could back under the door. He took a few deep breaths. He didn
’t know who they were but he was sure Blayke would be very interested to hear the news. It might even take his mind off Arcon for a few minutes.

The next few hours within Vellonia were tense. Zim contemplated how much worse things could get, and it was a depressing trail of thought. Everything had been going as smoothly as could be hoped, except for the knowledge that the Gormons had begun arriving on Talia. Within the space of a few days, two of The Circle had taken gravely ill, and a third, potential and necessary member, had been imprisoned for slaying a dragon.

Zim thought about Symbothial. They had grown up together, cousins who were as brothers. Zim found it hard to control his own grief and anger at the sight of Symbothial being dragged out of the lake with Bronwyn’s sword protruding from his belly. He couldn’t fathom why she had done it. Could leaving Avruellen have had such an effect on the young girl, or had the panther poisoned her mind? He had called out to Drakon but had received no answer. Even more puzzling was figuring out what the Dragon God had to do with it all.

The dragon city would have five days of mourning in which all would be called to return and none could leave. Zim dreaded the time. He knew from past experience that with every dragon venting their sorrow, he would be drained. Watching his immediate family come to grips with the death of a young dragon whom they all loved, would be difficult. Vellonia could ill-afford to lose any of her population. A female dragon had the possibility of having a total of four children in her extended lifetime. There was celebration if she managed to produce one. Zim suspected Drakon had taken a hand increasing the population in the past two-hundred years, knowing the threat they would eventually face.

Zim’s ruminations were interrupted by a summons to Agmunsten’s room. Zimapholous arrived to see the realmist sitting up in bed, consuming chicken soup. His voice was quieter than usual, however he was finally recovering. “Agmunsten, my dear friend, glad you decided to wake up.”

“
I’ve been catching up on all the sleep I’ve had to forego since this damn crusade began. How’s Arcon?”

“
Not great, but he’s still alive.”

“
Well that’s something. I should be up and about tomorrow morning. I’ll have to continue with him then. I’m hoping it won’t be as draining as last time. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Zim stood for a while and sized up whether or not his friend was strong enough to take some more bad news.
“There’s been a … development.”

“
I was wondering when you’d get to that. I’ve been hearing you dragons thunder about the city all afternoon. Are we under attack?”

“
Sort of. Symbothial has been slain.” Agmunsten choked on a mouthful of soup, spluttering some back into his bowl. Zim continued without waiting for any prompt. “It appears one of the slayers is Bronwyn, Avruellen’s apprentice.”

“
But why would she?” The Head Realmist drifted into his own world for a few moments. Thinking time over, he leaned down and placed his bowl on the floor. Tired legs slowly followed, and he gingerly stood. After assuring himself he was not about to fall over, he dressed.

“So much for tomorrow morning.
Take me to her now. I need to find out what’s going on.” Zim did as he was asked. He knew Agmunsten needed rest, however the situation required his intervention as soon as possible, as his mother was likely to lose patience and have Bronwyn put to death whilst no one was looking. The old realmist had no choice but to take his time, a shuffle the most energetic pace he could manage.

Bertholimous stood and greeted the duo.
“Has the queen sent you?”

“
No Bertholimous. I thought Agmunsten should question the girl. Someone should have her side of the story.”

“
I agree Zimapholous. I was afraid your mother, our beloved queen, had sent you to finish them off.” Agmunsten was not pleased at the assumption that Bronwyn’s fate was already decided.

“
Let’s just see what she can tell me. Please open the door.” Bertholimous lit another lamp and handed it to the realmist. Zim waited outside whilst Agmunsten performed the interrogation; as weak as he was, he was still strong enough to defend himself against an inexperienced realmist.

Bronwyn looked up as the door opened. So this was it, they were coming to execute her. She knew she deserved it.  Why had she listened to Sinjenasta? Had Drakon really ordered him to kill the dragon? Probably not, or they would not be in this much trouble.

The man they had sent looked relatively old. Bronwyn could tell he was a realmist, and he seemed familiar somehow. The short white hair and long white beard accentuated a kindly face. That’s who he was. She remembered Agmunsten from the meeting of The Circle that night, which seemed like a lifetime ago. “I see you know who I am, child. Please tell me what happened, Bronwyn.” She couldn’t lie to this man, however she had promised her creatura she would say nothing.

“
I can‘t tell you.”

“
If you don’t tell me I can’t help you.”

Bronwyn
’s eyes held little hope. She kept her answer as brief as she could. “It’s true, I did kill that dragon. That’s all there is to tell.”

“
You know if I don’t get a satisfactory answer there’s nothing I can do to stop Queen Jazmonilly from ordering your death, and that of your accomplice.”

“
I know.” Bronwyn shrugged as nonchalantly as she could. “Can I at least see Sinjenasta before we die?” Agmunsten’s frustration at her lack of openness ceased at the mention of her companion’s name.

“
I’m sure we can arrange something. Well, it was nice to meet you in person, Bronwyn. We may get you out of this yet.” Agmunsten turned his back on the forlorn young woman.

“
It was an honour to meet you sir. Sorry it had to be in these circumstances.” She let out a hopeless breath as the door shut behind the visitor.

Agmunsten carried his lamp into the next cell. Speaking to Bronwyn had been more enlightening than he could have hoped. What the hell was Sinjenasta doing caught up in all of this? He would get to the bottom of this if it killed him. He shone the lamp toward the huge panther lying quietly against the back wall of the small room. Agmunsten didn
’t recognise the animal lying there. “Sinjenasta?” 

The creature opened his eyes, blinking in unaccustomed illumination.

“Is it really you?”

Yes
, Agmunsten. How’s Bronwyn?

“
She’s OK, all things considered. What have you done, getting her caught up in all of this? And why is Drakon interfering?”

I can
’t tell you. You’ll have to ask him yourself
. Agmunsten twirled his beard between thumb and forefinger. This was interesting.

He had to find some way to talk the queen out of her vendetta. They needed Bronwyn, and Drakon obviously thought they needed Sinjenasta. His incarnation into a panther was also surprising.
“You’ve left me with many questions, my friend. Be patient. I’ll sort this out as best as I can.”

Don
’t put yourself out or anything
.

“
That’s ungrateful coming from a creature in your current position. I’m trying to be on your side, as hard as you’re making it.” The panther had the good sense to lower his eyes. “Give me some time. There are other things going on here that are jeopardising everything.”