The Dragondain (6 page)

When someone behind them shouted out Darce’s name, she swore under her breath, and the moon coin offered no translation. Darce didn’t seek out the voice. If anything, she hastened on.

“Hey, Darce, I think someone just—”

“Shut up!”

Jasper turned to see two girls and a boy sprinting after them and catching up quickly.

Darce continued to ignore the youths, scanning the tents until her eyes locked onto one in particular.

“In here!” she said, towing Jasper along.

Inside the tent were long rows of bleachers. Darce ducked behind one and was running down the length of the tent when a voice said, “Darce, up here.” A helping hand appeared, and Darce clasped it, clambering up the back of the bleachers with ease. Once up and over, she reached down a hand to Jasper.

As Jasper clambered into place and took a seat, Darce stepped down a row and to his left, taking a seat next to two men who looked back just long enough to give him a quick nod. Darce didn’t bother with introductions. Her attention was on the exhibition going on in the center of the tent, where a man, wearing a dingy white uniform was holding a longsword in his hand. Presently, he held up the pommel for all to see, explaining something about the grip to a young girl in the front row.

“Is that your fa—” began Jasper.

“Shh!” said Darce, waving Jasper off.

“Would someone like to show me how it’s done?” Dubb asked the crowd.

A small girl, maybe eight years old, stepped out of the audience and walked over to a stand of wooden practice swords. She pulled out one that seemed long for her height. Dubb walked over to a different rack and exchanged his sword for a much smaller wooden one. He walked over to the child, smiled, and dropped to his knees, balancing on them as though they were short legs. He tucked his elbow close to his hip and kept it there, further limiting his reach. The audience chuckled at the sight.

“Did he teach you like that, Darce?” said one of one men, in a teasing way that, to Jasper, seemed unwise.

Darce blew air through her teeth.

Sizing up the two men, Jasper realized that, although large, they had the smooth chins of boys. After studying their profiles and mannerisms for a time, he guessed they were only a few years older than he was.

A hand suddenly appeared next to Jasper’s leg. The three youths who had been chasing them were now scaling the bleachers. When Jasper tried to signal Darce, she ignored him. Not wanting to be rude, he offered a hand to each in turn. The two girls were wearing full-length dresses beneath hooded cloaks, which didn’t slow them down at all. They gave a polite nod and sat two rows down. The young boy sat down on Jasper’s immediate right.

After a minute or two, one of the girls turned in her seat abruptly, throwing back her hood. Her eyes were dark and her shoulder-length hair black. She gave Darce a scathing look.

“Aren’t you
supposed
to be at the house?” she asked.

Instead of answering her, Darce turned to one of the boys. “Grimm,” she said, “has he sparred with anyone exciting?”

“This morning he took on three men from—”

“Darce!” interrupted the black-haired girl. “It’s your turn. Why aren’t you at Tavin’s house? Did you leave Teague there all alone? Or did you just—”

“I’m finished waiting!” barked Darce.

The black-haired girl didn’t register the tiniest bit of intimidation.

“So she’s here? Where is she? You were supposed to bring her with you.”

“Shut it, Annora, or I’ll shut it for you!”

Annora’s face flushed. “You’re not Dragondain yet,” she spat, and then she closed her palms together in front of herself and began to pull them apart, forming a peerin. Both the boys leapt out of their seats.

“Falin, take Darce!” commanded the one called Grimm. He inserted himself between Darce and Annora and cautiously urged Annora to lower her hands. Falin, with equal caution, placed himself before Darce, holding his hands open but taking great care not to actually touch her.

Jasper felt a tap on his knee. The other girl had pushed aside the young boy and slid up next to him.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Bree. That’s my sister Annora. She’s not usually so tense as all that.” Then she began wagging her head from side to side. “Well, sometimes she gets like that, but only around Darce. And Darce has
really
been pushing it lately.”

Bree rolled her eyes and placed her hand on Jasper’s knee. “But that’s Annora and Darce. They’ve been at it since they were this high.” She gestured, then stared at her hand for a second. “If they were standing on this bench, of course, not the ground. If they were standing on the ground and they were this tall, that would be, like, sometime last year. What I meant to say was when they were little kids. Like,
really
small. Pretty much as soon as they could talk.” Bree began nodding her head. Her eyes grew distant, and a big smile formed on her face, as though she were remembering some particular Darce/Annora incident.

Seizing the opening, the boy Bree had displaced leaned forward. “I think he’s got it, Bree.” He extended a hand. “Hi, I’m Ridley, Annora and Bree are my sisters. Have you by chance met my mother, Cora?” he said, fishing for information. Jasper didn’t answer. “Perhaps my father, then—Quib?”

“I don’t know that name. I mean, Quib.”

“Ah, I see. And your name is . . . ?”

“Oh, I’m Jasper.”

Ridley pressed his lips together and slowly nodded his head. “Jasperrrrr . . .”

“Jasper Winter. I’m Lily’s brother. You met her recently? My Uncle Ebb—”

Annora stopped bickering with Darce and turned to stare at Jasper. Bree’s eyes flashed.

“Uncle?” said Ridley, still shaking Jasper’s hand. “Uncle? . . . Lord Autumn is your uncle?”

“So you’re the one,” began Annora, “and you’re here—” Annora collapsed her peerin and sat down, making Falin and Grimm much less anxious. “Darce! Why didn’t you say something!”

“You didn’t ask,” Darce craned her neck to see what her father was up to in the center of the tent. Jasper was less surprised, now that Grimm and Falin were standing, that he had at first mistaken them for men. They were very broad in the shoulder, and stood tall in matching black cloaks. Jasper now imagined Grimm to be closer to his own age, with Falin a little older.

“Get out of the way, you barn!” hissed Darce, and she swatted at Grimm.

Falin and Grimm slowly moved out of the way, but not without glancing back and forth distrustfully at Darce and Annora.

“Come on, Darce, do you really think you’re going to learn something from that?” asked Grimm, and he nodded to the center of the tent. Dubb was taking on a small horde of what might have been four-year-olds. He was on his knees, and no matter how fiercely they attacked, he appeared to have no trouble in fending them off. As he met each mad little rush, he attempted to explain the tactics involved, but someone in the audience would invariably laugh at the small attackers’ antics, which would in turn get
him
started laughing, imperiling his ability to defend.

“In everything there is a lesson.” said Darce in a barely audible whisper. Later, Lily and Jasper would classify these as Darcisms.

Jasper pointed to Dubb. “Does he always do this?”

Darce smiled. It looked a little strange on her. “No!” she said, almost laughing. “Normally, he wouldn’t let you touch a weapon unless you’ve had at least eight years of solid footwork.”

“So . . .”

“It’s because of the Dragon Fair,” she explained. “This is the only time he does anything like this.”

“Jasper,” said Ridley, “where
is
your uncle?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to figure that out myself. You sound like you all know him?”

Their faces brightened, and everyone began talking at once. Jasper heard most of it as a jumble, but one sentence he caught complete was from Bree. She said, “He tells the
best
stories.”

Jasper turned to Bree. “That’s him! That’s my Uncle Ebb! When did you last see him?”

Ridley answered almost immediately. “It’s been nearly a year.”

Jasper filed this away. “So you’ve met my sister, Lily?”

Some shook their heads; some answered no. No one said yes.

“Well . . . then how do you know her?”

“We’ve all been taking shifts in Tavin’s house, waiting for her to come back. Dubb and Tavin described her to us, but really, who needs a description for someone appearing out of thin air?”

“So none of you have met her?” Jasper cursed himself for not listening to her better. Without even thinking about it, Jasper fingered the chain of the necklace and gave it a tug.

Instantly, they all leapt to their feet, opening their cloaks to shield him from prying eyes. Jasper and Darce were suddenly nose to nose, her blue eyes boring into him.

“What did I tell you?” she said slowly.

“Not . . . to let anyone . . . see the—”

“Shh! Don’t name it!”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Darce looked as him with disgust. “Not thinking?”

“I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“Twice? I should hope not!”

Jasper pulled up his collar around the necklace, and everyone sat back down.

“It’s getting on, Annora,” said Ridley.

Jasper gave Ridley a questioning look. “Annora and Bree will be taking on the Lintel boys in less than an hour,” the boy explained. “It’s going to be quite a show. You should come with us.”

Bree grinned, and her eyes danced mischievously. “Are we going to let them win again?” she asked Annora, sounding hopeful.

“No,” answered Annora testily. “We let them win last year.”

“But . . . have you seen Newlin’s eyelashes?”

“Yes.” Annora sighed heavily. “We’ve
all
seen Newlin’s eyelashes.”

Bree made a pouty face.

“There are few things better than an overconfident opponent,” said Darce.

“Very true,” said Annora, turning to Darce. “But we have something new that needs testing. And this will be our last chance to do it.”

“Is is legal?” asked Darce.

“Yes,” answered Annora a little too quickly.

“Oh, really?” said Darce, suddenly looking impressed.

“It’s . . . new,” said Annora, gathering her cloak.

“And I suppose by that you mean it won’t be illegal until next year?”

Annora pursed her lips and shot a sideways glance at Bree, who was nodding her head to some unheard beat, a smile blooming on her face.

“Mmm . . . could be,” Bree replied.

Chapter Four

Lunamancer’s Apprentice

W
e
should be going,” announced Bree.

Falin and Grimm stood. “Come on, Darce, let’s go watch Annora and Bree dust the Lintel boys,” offered Falin. “It’ll be fun.”

Darce shook her head. “Go,” she commanded.

“What about Jasper?” asked Falin.

“You take him. He’s safer with all of you than with just me.”

Falin, the taller one, stepped over to Jasper.

“Looks like you’re with us now. I’m Falin, and this is my brother Grimm.” Their pale complexions and pearly white grins stood out against their dark hair and black clothing. He shook their hands, which dwarfed his own.

“Lead the way,” said Jasper, and he wondered whether Darce would get into trouble with Cora for leaving him, but in the end, he decided that if anyone could take care of herself, it was Darce. So he said goodbye and left with the others.

The festival spread all the way from one side of the valley to the other. Down the wide thoroughfare in the center was a long strip of open arenas that ran from the main gates of the city for at least a mile. The people who had come to watch these contests were better dressed than the crowd outside The Singing Clam, and nearly all of them wore robes.

They walked past one arena after another, each with a small tent posted at either end. The crowd increased and people began shouting when they recognized Annora and Bree. The sisters waved at them, smiling. At one of the small tents Annora and Bree stopped. The company wished them well in their bout, with a bit of trash talking aimed at the Lintel brothers. Then the sisters disappeared through the tent flaps.

Walking shoulder to shoulder, Falin and Grimm cleared a wide path, leading the group to a long row of wooden benches up front. A small mob of youths who all seemed to know each other had saved them places. Ridley made the introductions.

First there was the pale-skinned Andra, Falin and Grimm’s younger sister. She was tall like Lily, but shared her brothers’ dark hair and powerful build. Like them, she was dressed all in black. She towered over Ridley, projecting a powerful presence.

Moving down the bench, Ridley introduced Byrne, Penryn, and Alasdair, all brothers. Byrne looked around Jasper’s age, while his brothers were about ten or eleven. Byrne had wiry hair and a slim form, except for his shoulders, which were broad and strong. He and his brothers were wearing the closest thing to normal clothing that Jasper had seen thus far.

“They’re archers,” whispered Ridley in Jasper’s ear. “You should see them shoot. Penryn has the same eye as Boots, his father, but don’t tell Byrne that, and you didn’t hear it from me, either.”

Next Ridley introduced Ren and Prin, sisters. Ren looked to be Lily’s age. She was slender, fair-haired and fair-skinned. Prin’s complexion was equally fair, but her dark eyes stood out. “They’re both lunamancers like their dad, Arric,” whispered Ridley, “but their mother is teaching them the bow, so it’s hard to say which they’ll choose.”

“These last two,” said Ridley, lowering his voice still further, “are Nye and Luna.”

Jasper ached for a notepad, a scrap of paper, anything. He didn’t want to face Lily having forgotten a single detail of all this genealogy—she would slay him.

“And whose kids are they?” Jasper asked Ridley quietly.

Ridley pressed his lips close to Jasper’s ear. “Marred and Raewyn’s. Nye’s a healer, like his mom, but his dad has been teaching them both the sword. Luna . . . Luna is still . . . deciding,” said Ridley kindly.

Nye pushed his hood back a few inches, revealing dark, freckled skin, dark lips, and a brooding face. He took Jasper’s hand in a strong grip, and gave a smile that was surprisingly boyish. Luna, who was much younger, waved. Her face was hidden by a festive mask, made to look like two fighting dragons, with the eye holes in the coils of their long and tangled bodies. Jasper had seen many masks at the fair, and dragons were a common theme.

They moved to an empty space on the bench, and Jasper sat down between Ridley and Falin. Ridley was certainly proving to be a font of information, and his young age made Jasper feel very comfortable asking him questions.

“What’s the deal with Nye and Luna?” asked Jasper, cupping a hand to Ridley’s ear.

“They aren’t allowed within the city. None of them are, though sometimes they sneak in.”

This struck Jasper as odd. He rifled his mind for all the bedtime tales he knew involving healers, but he couldn’t remember any that would explain why they would be living apart from everyone else.

“Why?” asked Jasper.

“Why what?”

“Why do they live outside the city? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“They’re not trusted. People say they helped Wrengfoul when Perianth fell.”

“Perianth fell?” A terrible chill fell over Jasper’s heart. “What happened?”

“Wrengfoul brought a great storm from the sea—and monsters. His serpents pulled down the great windmills and destroyed the locks, flooding the fens. Then he attacked from all sides, and Perianth was lost. This happened years ago, when our parents were young,” said Ridley matter-of-factly.

“But . . . Castle Fendragon?”

“The castle is still above water, as are the middle and upper city, but everything else is inundated by a black, foul water—full of awful things. No one goes there anymore.”

Jasper couldn’t believe it, and it showed on his face. In Ebb’s bedtime tales, Castle Fendragon was an eternally magical place, where people and dragons lived in harmony—the people in their houses, and the dragons in their high perch-towers. It was a city of beauty, art, magic, and skill. He found himself staring off into the distance.

Cora arrived. She took a seat on the bench behind theirs, promptly opening a small canvas bag and throwing herself into a piece of knitting. Jasper thought she seemed nervous.

“Mom doesn’t like to watch,” Ridley explained.

The three children Jasper had met in Tavin’s house crawled from underneath a bench and began to play in the grass nearby. Meeri held a green toy dragon, which looked suspiciously familiar.

“Ridley,” said Jasper, pointing to the three girls. “Those are Cora’s youngest, right? Your sisters?”

“Yes. The one with the dragon is Meeri, the one on the right is Min, and that one is Jin. They’re triplets.”

Jasper watched Jin crawl over and whisper something into Meeri’s ear. Meeri sneaked a look back at Jasper. A few minutes later, she held her dragon high in the air and pretended to make it fly over to Jasper, landing it in his lap. There was no mistaking it now, nor its maker. He had one that looked just like it in his bedroom.

“Ha!” said Jasper. “And what have we here?”

“Morgot!” squealed Meeri.

“Oh! So you know his name? In my house, his name has to be kept a secret.”

“Secrets!” echoed Meeri, holding one finger in front of her mouth in a shushing motion.

“Yes. Secrets. But you know all about those, don’t you?” Meeri smiled and released a belly laugh.

“May I?” Jasper motioned to the dragon sitting on his lap. Meeri launched the dragon off Jasper’s knee, spun around twice, and flapped it into his open hands.

There could be no doubt: he would know his Uncle Ebb’s handiwork anywhere. Jasper had his own Morgoroth, along with several other beings from the pantheon of Moon Realm mythology. They lived on the bookcase in his bedroom back home. “Morgoroth,” said Jasper slowly. “Morgoroth the Devourer, Keeper of the Magic Flame, and Faerathil’s greatest creation, greater than all the other dragons in the Moon Realm, greater then Nilgiri of Dik Dek, even greater than the mighty Fendragon of Dain.” Jasper paused to see what Meeri thought of this and to see if he had offended her by claiming Morgoroth’s superiority over Fendragon.

But Meeri just jumped up and down, nodding her head excitedly.

“Morgot!” she squealed.

Jasper held the toy up to Ridley as if to say,
do you see this?
But as he turned the dragon in his hand, he set off the workings of some lever or spring, and suddenly the tail coiled around his wrist in a very life-like way. With a vicious snap towards Ridley’s face, the dragon blew out a shot of red flame that singed his eyebrows.

Meeri let out another belly laugh and clapped her hands.

“Hey,” protested Ridley, “watch where you point that thing!” He quickly unwound the dragon’s tail from Jasper’s wrist and handed the toy back to Meeri.

“That’s your uncle’s work, all right,” Ridley said to Jasper. “He knows the mythology of Dain and
all
her moons better than anyone.” Ridley pointed up into the sky. “Look, there’s Morgoroth’s home, Rel’ Kah, hiding behind Taw.”

Meeri pushed the dragon into Jasper’s face.

“Good dragon!” she said.

Ridley lurched forward, as though he had been pricked, looking about quickly to see if anyone was listening.

“Shhhh!” he said to Meeri. “Easy on that, we’re not at home.”

“But Morgot’s real!” said Meeri.

Ridley laughed a little and patted Meeri on top of her head. “Right, dragons made of fairy dust and magic, conjured by a Faerie Queen,” and he laughed some more.

Meeri’s face soured. “Morgot
is
real,” she said to Ridley. “You’ll see.”

Meeri turned her attention to Jasper, suddenly looking at him in that oddly grown-up way, which made him shift uncomfortably on the bench. “And you’ll see, too,” she said slowly, “right before the
very
end.”

A shiver shot up Jasper’s spine, and then Meeri’s face turned childlike again, and she ran off happily, flying her dragon, to play with Min and Jin.

“Are all the dragons of Dain bad?” Jasper asked Ridley, keeping his voice low. “When I talked to Darce—”

“Whoa! You asked Darce if all dragons were bad?” Ridley made a quick inspection of Jasper’s face. “Do you not bruise, or something?”

“What do you mean?”

“Seriously, where’d she hit you?”

Then the crowds roared. The tent nearer them had opened. Annora was striding purposefully onto the turf; Bree was smiling, waving, working the crowd. A moment later, the tent at the other end of the field opened, and out walked the Lintel boys. After a lot of waving and bowing, the contestants met in the middle of the arena, where a purple-robed lunamancer briefed them. Annora listened attentively while Bree twisted her fingers in her hair and smiled vacantly at Newlin.

Ridley leaned over to Jasper. “They’re declaring who’ll be the defender and who’ll be the attacker.”

“They’re going to attack each other?”

“Lunamancers aren’t very effective at attacking other lunamancers, but if they’re good, they can deconstruct another’s work into something more harmless. In a contest like this, each side has a defender and an attacker. Today, Bree will defend, her job being to dissipate, or render harmless anything Beck creates. Annora, on the other hand, will be creating things for Newlin to deal with. They’ll continue to do this until one side or the other fails.”

“And neither side will get hurt?”

“Right. Magic works the best on the non-magical, except for the Dragondain. The
real
Dragondain, that is,” he added.

“There are unreal Dragondain?”

“Yes. About half the King’s guard. You see, since Wrengfoul attacked, no King has been able to consecrate new Dragondain who are resistant to magic. Only the old bloodlines hold true, and many of those have been lost to . . . royal favoritism, my dad says.”

Jasper wanted to ask more about the Dragondain, but he didn’t want to lose track of what was going on here and now.

“How long does a contest like this go on?”

“That’s up to them.”

Annora, Bree, and the Lintel brothers walked back to opposite ends of the field.

“Is Annora good at this?” asked Jasper.

Ridley smiled. “You could say that.”

“Who goes first?” asked Jasper.

“Normally, it would be decided by luck, but these four face off a lot. And since Annora and Bree lost last time, they’ll get to go first.”

“So this is like an ongoing tournament?”

“Yes. There’s supposed to be one every year, but with the dragons about, they mostly just meet after one’s been dealt with. Most years at least one’s been terrorizing us. Lots of rivalries get formed. Not many people move
away
from Bairne, although I remember once a caravan came from the coastal city of Warsh. That was a big deal, and more people left with them than came to stay.”

“How far away is Warsh?”

“I don’t really know. The roads between us can only be used during the really dry years, when the river is easier to ford. No one expects to see another caravan anytime soon.”

Jasper wanted to know more about Warsh. He couldn’t remember any bedtime tales concerning it, but something tugged at his mind nonetheless.

“Anyway,” Ridley went on, “the lunamancers who have risen to the top all know each other’s moves very well.”

“Are Bree and Annora near the top?”

“Well, the better you are, the closer you get to the center arena.”

Jasper scanned left and right. “We, um, appear to be pretty close to the center.”

“Yes. Actually, this
is
the center. If you look about, you’ll see some of the greatest lunamancers ever to form a peerin. Over there, for example, that tall man in the bright blue, that’s Dyre Fellbard. He’s from the royal court. And there, standing in the yellow dress, just to the right of Dyre, is Jaelin Swarl, and over there, wearing the green dress, is Minna Warewax. Ember is certain to be here somewhere—”

“Ember! You know Ember?”

“Yes, all my life.” Ridley gestured toward Bree. “Watch.”

“If you see Ember, would you point her out to me?” asked Jasper.

“Yes, yes. Now be quiet.”

Bree took a step forward and placed her palms together before her face. She swiveled her hands so that her fingers pointed in opposite directions, and her elbows jutted out. Slowly, she drew apart her hands until just the tips of her index fingers and thumbs touched. Staring down Beck though the rectangular opening in her peerin, she looked ready for anything.

On the other side of the arena, Beck did the same, although he kept his hands lower.

“These two won’t fool around. Beck will do his best to knock Bree out first thing.”

“How?”

“Good question. At this level, originality is the real advantage. Lunamancers aren’t known for sharing their secrets, and the academies were closed by the Royals before any of us were born, shortly after Perianth fled to Bairne. Even so, there won’t be many moves the high-level lunamancers around this ring haven’t done or seen, but they’ll be new to most everyone else, and if the brothers are lucky, they’ll even be able to show a surprise or two to Annora and Bree.”

Beck lifted his peerin to his chest and a flame erupted from his hands. It quickly grew pointed, and then cracked open like a pair of glowing jaws. As its body grew, wings sprouted from its sides. The heat it generated was powerful, and many of the spectators circling the arena raised their arms to shield themselves. About halfway across the arena, it met with an unseen resistance, growing brighter as it struggled to make forward progress. Its bright tail wavered and collapsed into its head, tumbling ineffectually and bouncing on the turf twice before coming to rest, looking like nothing more than a glowing lump of blue sea glass.

The crowd went completely silent.

Bree closed her peerin and let her arms fall to her sides and then turned to face Annora. The second her back was turned to the Lintel brothers, she made an excited
can-you-believe-it face to her sister. Annora kept her game face on, but when Bree got very close she said something that made Annora’s eyebrows lift.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. The lunamancer in the purple robe hurried over to the glowing lump, which still burned brightly where it lay. She knelt, drew out what looked like a small wand, and probed. Her taps produced a loud tinkling sound, like glass wind chimes.

Ridley’s mouth was half open.

“What is that?” asked Jasper.

“I . . . don’t . . . know.”