| |
“WE’VE DONE WHAT WE could,” the Keeper said, having avoided the flames of King Barin’s boats. They circled over them in search of survivors, saving men from certain death. “I see no more men alive in these waters.”
“Look, a storm comes, Keeper,” Maurice cried.
It had started as a black spot on the enemy’s ship, and the Keeper had been watching it. Now it had grown so large that it encompassed the entire deck. Water splashed over the topmost part.
“The ship is sinking.”
“But the storm. It’s our magic,” Maurice yelled. “I can tell. I can hear chants but it’s not our people chanting even though it sounds like them.”
“Hang on tight, Maurice,” The dragon said. The Keeper soared toward the stars, cold wind blew on his face and tickled his eyes. When he was above the cloud, he regarded the strange storm that was now inching away from the Enchantress, leaving in its wake wind-torn remains, a broken mast, a crushed bow, and what he thought was lighting. But how could it be lightning? It didn’t flash but instead it remained as a brilliant white light on the deck of the ship. It must be a wizard’s lasso. He had seen those before. As he swooped lower, behind the storm, Maurice screamed.
“Father! It’s my father!”
The boy leaned over, wiggled, and squirmed so fiercely that the Keeper thought Maurice would jump.
“Sit down, Maurice! I see him.” The Keeper leveled until the lad got his balance. “Now pull out your sword. This is your hour of courage, Maurice. We’re going to help him.”
It took a moment for the boy to regain his senses, and another moment for him to draw the sword from its sheath. It was a long sword, and heavy, probably too heavy for Maurice to lift very high. The Keeper would have to fly to the deck if the young man was going to use it.
“What do I do?” Maurice asked, his voice trembling.
“Just point it at your father when we fly by and ask the sword to free him and to shield him.” The dragon’s voice was barely audible, drowned by the sound of the gale and a rumble coming from the ship.
“Did you hear me?”
The Keeper couldn’t hear the answer there was so much wind, but there was no time to spare. As the dragon plummeted toward earth, the light of the sword flashed into the sky, giving him the sign that Maurice held the sword.
“Be strong, Maurice. That sword will dissolve the fire your father is wrapped in and protect him and the men he’s with. He’s going to be all right. Hold on tight, though. Don’t fall! The ride will be rocky!”
He stretched his wings, plunged toward the sea, and swept swiftly alongside the Enchantress. Maurice clung to the dragon’s mane; his face pressed up against the Keeper’s scales. Once the dragon leveled and glided toward the deck, Maurice sat up.
“Hold the sword with two hands,” the Keeper commanded. “If you drop it in the ocean we’ll all be in trouble!” The wind whistled around the blade as the dragon soared over the ship.
“Father!” Maurice called when Arell came into view. “Sword, I command you to free my father and protect him!”
The fire that had been wrapped around them sizzled, transforming to ash and embers. Arell and the other men dropped to the flooded deck.
“Maurice!” Arell called after them.
“He’s hurt,” Maurice cried.
“And who wouldn’t be, having been tied up by a rope of fire?” The dragon circled again, higher this time.
The sea swelled around the ship, swallowing the bow in intervals. The Keeper dove, faster than he had ever flown, with his talons out. He scooped Arell up with one and the two men with the other. Waves crashed on him. The dragon’s scales sizzled, and steam rose from his body as he ascended and flew toward King Barin’s fleet.
He circled slowly downward until the men on board Barin’s vessel made a landing place for him. He gently released Geraldo, Hawk, and Arell, and then circled again. He landed amid men who stared in awe. It was odd having so many strangers gawk at him. The Keeper rarely let himself be known to anyone. Never did he intend to be a spectacle.
Hawk was the first to gain his balance. “If that ship sinks, the magic will go down with it. We need to go back.”
“There are still wizards aboard,” Geraldo said, not bothering to stand. He sat cross- legged on the deck, panting. “They’ll turn anyone who goes back into cinders.”
Arell raced to the Keeper’s side and helped his son down.
“You saved us,” he said both to Maurice and the dragon.
“I’m afraid none of us are saved yet,” the Keeper said. He hadn’t expected the embrace that Maurice gave him at that moment. Affection wasn’t something a dragon often received, but when the young man wrapped an arm over his neck, his plates heated with a new kind of warmth. It lasted for only a moment, but gave him a desire to finish what had begun. He lifted his head and regarded the people on deck.
“There’s more work to be done,” he said.
“Wizards I can handle,” Kairos came to the forefront. “King Barin, if you’d give me permission to fight this battle?”
Everyone looked at the king. Barin, still wet from his swim, held the Lady Anna in his arms. The Keeper smiled to himself seeing the two together. He nodded approval though no one was looking at him. It was as it should be.
These two are destined to be together. Now I am confident that we will win.
“Only if you come out of it alive,” Barin answered.
“You know I’m not a brave man,” Kairos grinned. “I won’t take chances.”
“And I can show you how to operate the Machine. The Enchantress isn’t going down too quickly. Not if my brother is there. They aren’t going to let the magic sink and I don’t think they’ll allow that Machine to either. If I could have my belt back, sir?” Hawk turned to Barin.
“It’s over there,” the king said.
Hawk picked it up. It’d been submerged, but the vials were intact and the potions in them glowing and alive.
“We should leave immediately,” Kairos said. “Before the storm hits.”
Indeed, the clouds had congregated and even in the dark, the Keeper detected the green in its mist.
The dragon turned to Kairos. “Best hurry. I will have to fly above that storm to reach the Enchantress.”
“Go on, Kairos, it’s better than riding horseback,” Maurice said. The wizard grumbled under his breath while Hawk helped him onto the back of the dragon,
“What do I hang on to?” Kairos asked.
“The mane,” Maurice said.
“Do not put all your hope in me,” the Keeper told his riders. We must fight, and we might lose.” The Keeper would be a fool to think that every dragon won his battles, and that his ancestors had all achieved their Bon Liga without incident. Some of his forefathers had died trying.
“Just make sure I don’t fall off your back. I’m not a good swimmer,” Kairos replied.
“Nor am I a brave man,” Hawk said. “But we’ve come this far.”
“Maurice,” the Keeper turned to the young man. “Touch the point of that sword to these ships and ask for protection against that hurricane.”
“Yes, sir.” Maurice lifted the sword with both hands and walked in a circle, speaking in Cho Nisi. Though the Keeper couldn’t understand the words, he sensed the passion the boy spoke with. When he had finished, Maurice brought the sword to Barin, took a knee, and handed it to him.
“Ready?” the Keeper asked his riders. There was no more time to waste, and his patience was fading. His scales rattled and burned exceptionally hot. Two wizards against six or seven sorcerers and a powerful storm were not good odds, even with the assistance of a dragon.
The Keeper’s strong legs took one leap into the air, and with his wings, he lifted himself into the dark.