The Royals

Chapter 51

Around that corner, down a flight of stairs, left at the

bottom.' She stopped. This is silly. May I?' Tom smiled. This was not the Ginni who had led them into madness attempting to rescue the prince, nor the one

who retired to a cave and singed Grosik's tail. This was

the practical, clear-headed daughter he knew and adored beyond reason. He mock bowed. "Please do, m'lady." Without another word, his daughter tiptoed quietly down the hall and Tom slid after in his stockinged feet.

Maarcus already knew he was dying. The dream unsettled

him all the more because of it. He hadn't dreamed of Zera

in a generation.

He had spoken with her and worked by her side at times. He had grieved at her passing, but he had not dreamed of her since their mutual decision to end their liaison.

He'd sometimes wondered whether they had both agreed. He thought he must have chosen on his own to let Zera go, because he'd never been susceptible to magic of any sort. Still, she was female, and women could always find ways to influence men. It was born into the make-up of all animals, not the least elf, dwarf, and human.

In the dream Zera was a young woman, younger than she had been when he met her. In truth, he was a small boy when she reached adulthood, but she befriended him nonetheless. She chatted with him as he skipped shells on the beach protected by the cliff-side and castle walls above it.

In those days, elves and humans were merely different sides of a coin, their conversations no cause for comment. But she sought him out, just as she had later when he was a middle-aged human and his son newly dead.

In the dream he wondered if he knew her from some

where - a reception for the king perhaps, a celebration

of their triumph in joining the realms of the One Land. Her eyes changed color with the ocean, grey to green to deep blue when the storms rolled in. She spoke softly.

of preparing for the future, of aiding the Great King in all his endeavors, and of sometimes seeing just a bit farther than the king in order to convince him of the proper action. She spoke as if she knew the king personally, though this seemed unlikely to the young Maarcus for she herself appeared barely of age. In the end, he didn't understand what she required of him. Frustrated unto tears, he would have granted her anything if only he'd known what she asked.

Maarcus the Sixth woke an old man who felt every battle wound ever inflicted. He thought of Zera, who should have lived much longer than he if not for a daughter who was as evil as her mother was good.

As a young man, he had not put much store in dreams; he had believed in the observable sciences. He had learned better, but the learning gave no comfort. His king had still died and the kingdom had still fallen to ruin and war. The physician had done all he could, but it was not

enough to save his king or his country. With tears running

down his cheeks, Maarcus let out a long sigh and did not

breathe in again.

Maarcus the Seventh began to mend quickly once they left the prince's dungeon. Kate told herself that the new healthy pink skin replacing the lash-marks on his back was a sign she had chosen well.

No amount of lying to herself could convince her of the truth. The tunnel led them somewhere other than where they wished to go. They had traded a stationary dungeon for a mobile one. She kept her thoughts to herself, so as not to worry Maarcus - even while she continued to brood over the nature of his cure.

The ground and walls were as uneven and formless as smoke. So far, her fingers and feet met firmness; and

when she stumbled, bottom and sides always met her as any cave floor would. But she kept expecting to poke through to nothing if she pushed just a little harder. The longer they walked, the more Kate felt the elfwitch permeating the air, the dirt, her thoughts. No one else

could maintain such powerful magic. With growing

certainty came growing dread that they should have

confronted death at her half-brother's hand, rather than accept life under Alvaria's. She grabbed Maarcus' arm and attempted to pull him back the way they'd come.

He looked at her wearily. "There is no return, Kate."

'What?'

'Look behind you. There is simply nothing there." She spun about. The world was as black as the depths of a bottomless pit. She reached out and met frozen nothing ness, as if the world ceased one step behind them. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

In the grey half-light, she saw him shrug. 'You could

not have changed it. I thought you deserved a few calm

moments.'

Kate choked down panicked laughter. 'And I didn't voice my fears to you for the same reason. See where our restraint's got us.'

'Exactly where we would have been regardless.' He took a step closer and folded his arms around her. 'Kate, I would have died there. The elfwitch might have us, but as long as we're alive we can fight her. If we die, she wins.'

The darkness closed in tight around them. Cold wound through their bodies until their bones ached.

Kate's dragon coin, all but forgotten, grew warm against her chest. Alvaria was calling to her. The princess nodded, as much to herself as to Maarcus. All right, let's go.'

Maarcus and Kate linked hands and resumed their trudge into the strange wilderness.

The cave was smaller than Grosik remembered, though he'd seen it only a moment ago as a dragon registers time. Maybe he wasn't giving enough credit to how quickly four dragons can overflow a space formerly occupied by one

dragon and two average-sized humans.

'This place is ghastly,' his son Nadik said. 'You notice it now because you are young. Never forget that such places mean us no good. We do this because we must,' said Barik.

'Your mother and I will go first. Nadik, watch after your sister.'

'I can take care of myself,' Ezrek strutted. Barik glared at the children until they quietly fell in behind her. "We are agreed,' she said, in a voice that left

no room for argument. Grosik led the way to the back of the cave. His skin prickled with magic run rabid. The cave narrowed quickly and the two adult dragons could no longer walk side by side. Grosik started to pull in front and thought better of it. Likely his bulk in such crowded confines would keep Barik from seeing the bones. He stepped back. 'You can feel it's only a length or so ahead.'

'Yes, I know.' She let out something like a sigh.

'Cousins warned me against days like this when I took

up flying with you.' Grosik stifled a laugh to keep from vibrating the ceiling down onto their heads. 'It sounds like you've spent your

share of days among humans.' Barik looked up. Her ear-flaps were flat against her head in alarm. You will never repeat that.'

You're right. I will never repeat that," Grosik agreed readily. He needed her help. He would have enjoyed the companionship of knowing he wasn't the only admitted p*****t who enjoyed the company of the lesser races; but there was no gain here in forcing her to confess something she preferred to hide.

She waited, measuring his sincerity. Very well, Grosik. To our purpose here.' She moved forward, slowly and deliberately. The cave echoed with her steps.

Grosik could no longer hear his son and daughter at the cave mouth. He hoped it was because they had fallen silent of their own accord.

Barik hissed and her tail slapped the ground hard enough to send stray rocks a-tumbling. You bring me all this way to observe dust?"

"They were bones when we first saw them. The girl

mage disturbed them.'

Then she has seen to it that no one can know their

intent.'

'It was a transformation spell. Elf and human.' 'Why am I here? Why did you not tell me this before?'

Grosik didn't answer. His motivations were compli cated... and not. He wanted to rescue friends, human friends. He thought these bones would help. I was compelled to return,' he said finally. "Though I warned the humans away from them, I knew I would return."

'And you drag us into your compulsion?'

'You came of your own accord.'

'Did I?'

Grosik fought to return to the subject. 'What of the bones?'

'There's nothing left to observe. I take your word for it that they were ever more than they are now.' She bordered on calling him a liar.

Grosik chose to ignore the insult. 'I would see the dust before we leave.'

'Let me by then."

Grosik backed up until there was space for her to pass. Once she'd given him more than enough room, he moved forward to where he'd stood the day Tom and Ginni had first found the bones. He gritted his teeth and ran his forepaw through the pile. As Barik had said, there was nothing but a very fine dust now. It had not deteriorated naturally. Had the dragon prince done this? Did the dragon prince even know of it?

At the cave mouth one of the three raised its voice in deadly challenge. Grosik hurried to the front. The youngsters were scuffling despite all common

to the contrary. "Mother, he did it.'

'No, she did it.'

'Ezresensek, Nadik! Quiet, the both of you!' Grosik roared. 'Hatchlings have more sense than this.'

'It's the bones,' Barik said. 'Or what's left of them.'

'I agree,' said Grosik. 'Let's get some fresh Barik and their children were airborne before he could finish the thought.

'I admit you've got my curiosity up.' She paused. With something like affection in her voice, she added, 'You always could.'

Grosik knew better than to push his luck this time and kept his teasing to himself. Having Barik around was like carrying Tom and Ginni. After a while, he'd got used to the way they irked him and he missed the irritation. From things Ginni said before she ran off to the Forty-nine Hags-'

'Stop now, Grosik. Do not tell me we are headed for the Witches' Tower.' She hovered in mid-air, plainly not moving forward a single wing-span until he answered

her.

I've been there once. It wasn't so bad. 'We're going to see the Ha-ags. We're going to see the Ha-ags,' sang the children.

'We are not going to see the Hags,' hissed Barik. 'Grosik, how could you put me in such danger? And your own offspring?'"

Definitely not the usual dragon family, he thought. But then he'd known that the minute he'd discovered Barik shared her name with one of the manling's Great Sisters. They hadn't been able to resist naming their hatchlings after the other two. It never would have occurred to Grosik's mother to notice such things, any more than she or most dragon parents would worry over what perils their offspring might fly into. If they couldn't learn to face danger as hatchlings, they'd never survive to engender their own.

'I'm sorry," he told Barik, genuinely contrite. There's something about that girl and her father that matters. To me and to their whole world. I couldn't ignore it. I wouldn't ask any of you to attack them. I was hoping you might just back me up if I get caught again.' And now

'Again! You've already been there and failed. you want reinforcements.'

"Yes, I've been there. But Barik, I lived and I'm none the worse for wear. I've had less pleasant days digging for food in the aftermath of a border skirmish.'

'I don't want to know about it,' she said primly. 'From what Ginni-'

"The girl-mage?' asked Ezrek.

'Yes, the girl-mage,' answered Barik impatiently. She seemed eager to hear the story in spite of herself. Without commenting, she resumed flying forward.

“Ginni believed the bones were meant for the Dragon Prince - the one transformed from a furry beast his sister unknowingly called a dragon."

'Told you that story was true,' Ezrek nagged her brother. She flapped a gust of wind at him.

Grosik ignored the bickering. 'Perhaps the bones crumbled to dust once the spell was unraveled.' 'Makes sense,' Barik said, thoughtfully.

'So are we going, Mother? Are we?' asked Ezrek

and Nadik.

"Yes, I think we are."

Brother and sister spun delightedly in circles, cawing their joy to the skies.

'But first, some rules. You stay behind us.'

'Ah, we want to see the witches."

'I want to see you stay alive." Grosik had known he'd done the right thing in coming

to Barik. For all the world, she sounded like Tom pro tecting Ginni. He chuckled despite himself and turned it into a cough before the younger ones caught on.

Willam had ditch detail when the elves snatched him away from the trolls. He was coming to like the poor beasts they reminded him of a sweet-natured dimwit he'd once befriended and he hated to disappoint them by abandoning his duty.

The elves laughed at him as he tried to explain. Maybe

he wasn't speaking clearly? His second attempt got him whacked on the head with a shovel. When he rose from the ground, he didn't chance a third.