Crutch

 

Conner tapped his foot on the stone floor as the sound of water dripping nearby reverberated off the dungeon’s musty walls. If Conner had learned one thing about dragons, it was that they were, without a doubt, the most demanding creatures anywhere on Gaia. Conner knew his irritability was being fed by his bond’s own frustrations. His parents’ departure that morning was helping neither of their moods. And while Conner knew his position was untenable, he could not help but feel that the dragon shared some of the blame for Pattria’s decision to return home. “You’re not going to give up on this idea, are you?”

Skye’s eyes narrowed to glowing blue slits. Iridescent deep sparks flowed and pulsed blue across the black dragon’s scales. “Nope.”

For the past fortnight, Skye had suggested flying home to show off his recent transformation from wyvern to full dragon ... and to seek out a potential mate. But of late, Skye’s requests had reached a fevered pitch. Enduring the presence of “small, bipedal bores” made him ill-tempered even on his best days, to the point that his barrage of demands could neither be ignored nor diverted. After a long pause, Conner sighed in resignation. “Very well. However, the timing has to be right if this is going to happen. So, don’t get your scales in a knot while I figure out when you can fly home.”

“It is not possible for my scales to get knotted. Which reminds me of a revelation I had recently about your species.”

“I’m surprised you have had time for any revelations given all your sleeping of late.”

Skye ignored Conner’s rebuke. “Our emotional link has given me an opportunity to understand your species in ways other Cloudbenders have lacked when encountering your kind. It’s hard to understand a species when the only view you get is of their backsides as they are running away.” The dragon snort-sniffed a slight chuckle. “Since then, I have reflected on why you all are so dishonest, and now I understand why. Your species uses deception to compensate for your lack of a tough outer skin.”

“What in the name of Gaia are you talking about?”

Skye closed his brilliant blue eyes. When they opened again, they glowed with a new intensity. “Humans are deceptive as a means of protecting their egos. Dragons, on the other hand”—Skye scraped a steel-like claw across his forearm—“are physically well shielded, so we are not concerned about, nor do we have a need for such psychological armor.”

“I’m sorry, Skye, but I am not following you.”

“You should stop this pretense that everything is okay,” Skye stated with a huff.

“I’m not pretending.”

Skye grunted, then tilted his head, one eye an arm’s reach from Conner’s face. “You can pretend to be someone else if that is your desire. You can even continue to pretend with all of the bipedals around you. But you forget that I can sense your emotions, so do not pretend with me.” The dragon’s head wagged side to side. “It would help if we cleared the air about what you are feeling.”

“Yes!” Conner erupted at his bond’s persistent badgering. “I’m frustrated. I’m upset. I’m annoyed. This morning, Pattria ended our relationship and is returning home with my parents. I too would like to return home, Skye. But some of us don’t get what we want.” Conner sensed the flow of Skye’s sadness and concern.

“I can sense your envy for what I ask, Conner,” Skye said. “I am sorry. But you are ripping at the hide of your feelings when you should be gnawing on the bones of your emotions.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Conner said.

“Fear, Conner. I can sense you are frightened. No. Even worse, you are pretending not to be afraid.”

Conner had hoped Skye would not be so astute, especially given how much the creature slept. Like all dragons, Skye did not feel fear—that is, until he’d bonded with Conner. His shoulders sagging forward, Conner stared deep into a blazing blue eye. “Yes. I am afraid, Skye. And why shouldn’t I be? After all, it is the queen’s safety that’s at risk with my charade of being a powerful orderman ... and one of the great Dragonbonded.”

Grimmley and Layna had not been able to help him break through whatever was blocking access to his powers. And with each unsuccessful lesson, he doubted more that they ever would.

Conner took a deep breath to keep his next words from sounding like pleading. “That is why I need you here, Skye. Until I can work through my problem, I need you to help me protect the queen.”

Skye’s head bobbed with satisfaction, having finally broken through the crusty granite coating that surrounded Conner’s ego. Then the dragon shifted with an annoyed grunt and glanced away. “I refuse to be a part of your charade any longer.”

Conner growled at his bond, folding his arms across his chest while he revised his assessment of dragons. Even more than demanding, dragons were stubborn. Every step toward a reasonable compromise with the beast had to be fought for, leaving Conner in a perpetual state of exhaustion. “This is not a charade, Skye.”

Skye snorted, his glowing eyes studying the puddle of water that had collected on the dungeon floor. “If you are pretending to be something you are not, then it is a charade. Besides, I am tired of you using me as an expedient to patch up your problems. As long as you rely on me to be your queen’s protector, you will never break through this barrier you drag around with you. Which is yet another reason why I need to return home—so that you can work out your impediment without me.”

“I said yes already,” Conner huffed. “Besides, I could use a rest from your constant nagging. Surely there isn’t anything more you could ask of me.”

“There is,” Skye replied.

“What now?”

“For one, to tell the queen how you feel about her.”

Conner went cold with shock. “What?” he mumbled, mentally back-stepping.

“I have seen how the queen displays herself before you, Conner. It is clear to anyone attentive that she wants you to be her mate. It is time you tell her that you feel the same.”

Conner nearly choked. “That’s crazy. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Women don’t show their affections that way.”

“For many days now, I have been watching humans scurry about on this rock structure they built, and I can say with complete certainty that, besides being bores, humans are not that different from dragons.” Skye sized up his human bond, then added, “At least not the females of our two species. Let me suggest you consider doing what you humans do to show affection. What is the word? ... Kiss!” Skye bobbed his head enthusiastically. “You should kiss her.”

“What? Kiss the queen?” Conner shuffled back. “You’ve been spending too much time with Kriston. Clearly, I have not kept that lad busy enough with his studies. Let me suggest that you not rely on a twelve-year-old boy to be your only source of information when it comes to human behavior—unless it involves thieving or lying.”

“I heard that.” A thin voice echoed up the dungeon hall.

Conner spun to find Kriston stepping into the light of the dank room, coming to a halt with hands pressed firmly on his bony hips.

“I might be a thief, but at least I don’t talk unkindly about others behind their backs.”

“Obviously I wasn’t talking behind your back, since you were behind mine.” Under his breath, he added, “And quite capable of hearing every word I utter.” Kriston was a very quick study at picking up Dragon language and had already learned enough to catch the gist of conversations. Conner wondered how long Kriston had been there listening to the two of them argue. He shuddered at the notion Kriston might have understood him discussing his barrier to using elemental powers.

Kriston ignored Conner’s words, choosing instead to convey a message. “The captain of the royal guard is looking for you. The queen demands your presence.”

“See, Conner? She desires you. You should kiss her!” the dragon roared.

“Will you stop that?”

Kriston snickered.

Conner flashed the boy a scathing look. “No doubt, she wants to go for another ride to get out of the city—and away from that dreadful War Council. Nothing more.” He furrowed his brows at the dragon. “We’ll finish our conversation later. I’ll meet you outside the city gates,” he said slowly, not wanting the statement to sound like the request it was.

Skye grunted his assent before the boys started back up the hall.

“Kriston, what ideas have you been feeding my dragon?” Conner whispered as they neared the stairwell that led to the castle bailey above.

“I’ve only been answering his incessant questions. You want me to stop talking to him?”

Conner hesitated, imagining being the only one the dragon spent his waking hours conversing with. “No,” he said, though he wanted to say yes. “I honestly doubt anyone else is interested in talking to my bond.”

Kriston snickered again. “You could teach Pauli how to speak Dragon. Imagine the mischief he could teach Skye to get into.”

“Which is why I haven’t tried teaching Pauli. Besides, Skye’s scales would turn dull with age before Pauli uttered his first lucid sentence in Dragon tongue.”

“Now who’s talking behind someone’s back?” Skye bellowed up the long hall.

 

Conner and Kriston stepped from the dungeon stairs to find the captain of the royal guard waiting at the far end of the court. When the captain saw them, he waved and started forward. Conner cocked his head toward his young page.

Kriston rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. Back to my quarters and practice my calligraphy.” Still, the ex-thief tended to get anxious whenever anyone with “guard” in their title was about, so the boy was off before Ballett was within hailing distance.

“Your horse is ready, my lord,” Ballett announced as he approached. His gray possum, Scout, peered timidly at Conner from over the captain’s shoulder.

The captain matched his stride to Conner’s and the two started back toward the stables. In the little time Conner had been in Graystone, he had come to admire the captain, who prided himself on proper dress and the etiquette expected in a royal castle. He was a likable fellow, though he did not seem as confident as Conner had expected from someone commanding the royal guard. “Conner works fine, Ballett. Eastlanders don’t have much use for titles.”

“As you command. Conner it is.” Ballett wagged his head. “I’m afraid my knowledge of freeman lifestyle is a bit murky. I’ve spent my entire life at Graystone, so I have not had an opportunity to see what lies beyond the city streets.”

Conner surveyed the skies as the two marched toward the eastern castle gates. What remained of the morning had become all the drearier during his time in the dungeons arguing with Skye. Dark, brooding clouds were moving in, and a damp wind at his back made even the dungeon seem warm and dry.

“May I ask how long you have been in the service of the queen?” Conner asked.

“Eight years.”

“And now, Captain of the Royal Guard.” Conner shook his head. “I know as much of royal matters as you know of Eastlanders, but that seems like quite a rise.”

Ballett sighed. “A long story, I’m afraid.”

Conner was intrigued. He waved his hand at the long, narrow street leading back to the main entrance, eager to know more. “We have time, and there are but a few people about.”

Ballett nodded. “I joined the royal guard shortly after completing my guild’s apprenticeship. When Veressa was but a young princess, the king assigned me to watch over her. At first, it was an easy enough assignment. After all, she had a master Ranger charged with protecting her. But as the years progressed, the princess became quite a handful. The king was compelled to assign an ever-growing entourage of guards to watch over her—night as well as day.” Ballett leaned closer. “And, since I know you are aware, once Master Ranger Loris began training the princess in Ranger skills some months back, even a full battalion was unmatched for her prowess.” Ballett shook his head sadly. “I cannot count the number of times the princess has slipped past my watch, each time landing me before King Jonath to explain my failings—an especially challenging task given that I was sworn to secrecy regarding Veressa’s Ranger training.”

Conner laughed, envisioning Veressa handily doing whatever Rangers did to evade notice, even around well-trained guardsmen whose only job was to watch over her. “So, you got a promotion for your efforts?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. Veressa chose me as her captain after she was crowned. Normally, royal assignments are the king’s personal duties, but ...” Ballett’s face clouded, then shook it away. “I tried to explain to her that there were more qualified members of the royal guard, but she would have none of it. She can be quite demanding.”

Conner thought back to his first encounter with the queen in Pennington Point while she was on her bonding trek pretending to be a Ranger apprentice. “I see the queen hasn’t changed much since her coronation.”

“Actually ...” Ballett began, then fell silent.

“Yes?”

“I have been in the queen’s service for some time now. With you as her new protector, and not knowing her well before she became queen, I feel compelled to mention”—Ballett’s voice dropped to a whisper—“that she has changed of late, and I worry about her.”

When Conner’s eyes grew large, Ballett elaborated. “You must understand, this is not idle gossip. As captain of the guard, I get reports from my men—what they see and hear. Those close to the queen occasionally speak in the corners of secluded rooms when they think there are no ears about to catch their words. I know my guardsmen well enough to take what they report at face value, only I too have heard ordermen around the castle expressing their concerns for the new queen.”

Anxiety clawed at Conner’s chest. He swallowed hard. “And what do they say?”

“That the queen is inattentive, her eyes often lost amid the thick forest beyond the castle. And when she is not preoccupied with what is beyond these gray walls, she has the temperament of ... well, a feral cat. Many suspect it has to do with her new bond.” Ballett’s head drooped and he shook it slowly. “A powerful animal to be bonded to, for sure.”

Conner did not hold much faith in such theories. After all, he was bonded to a dragon and he had not suddenly become demanding or bullheaded. He blinked. Or had he? He shook the thought away. “But you think there is more?”

Ballett pressed a finger to his lips, as if struggling how best to answer Conner’s question. “I think that being so alone, especially at such a young age, thrust upon the throne and made responsible for so much must be a terrible burden. And not having a father there for proper guidance and support—well ...” He shrugged to fill in what he did not want to put into words.

Conner heard the tension in Ballett’s tone. The captain’s comments confirmed his own suspicions. Veressa had seemed more troubled of late. He had sensed her wrestling with some potent, dark force—one her aid and constant shadow Master Ranger Loris was especially attuned to. The rides she took away from the castle seemed to be the only remedy to quell the storm raging within her. But the rides were too infrequent.

“You care for her,” Conner said to Ballett.

“Just like I do my own two precious daughters. I suppose growing up in the Eastland fringes doesn’t give you this perspective, but those central to Griffinrock carry a special love for their queen. I would do anything necessary to protect Veressa.”

Conner thought about what Skye had said to him—about how he was using the dragon as a crutch for his own failures—and wondered if King Jonath’s presence would have been more hindrance than aid to Veressa. And if Conner stepped in as Champion and guardian, and tried to fill her father’s place? No. He shook his head. He couldn’t muster enough elemental power to heal a plant. Grimmley was fond of saying, “You can’t help another if you can’t first stand on your own.” Conner had his own problems to solve; Veressa would be better off not relying on him. Besides, he had made a promise to the king that he would not get too close to her, no matter how much he cared for her.

Conner clasped the captain on the shoulder with a firm grip. “As Veressa’s Champion, that is useful. Thank you, Ballett, for sharing it with me. It seems we have something in common. We both will do everything in our power to ensure that our new queen can weather this troubling storm.”

The two walked on in silence.

At the end of the street, they were flushed out onto a busy city causeway. Turning toward the bridge, they wove through the throngs of shoppers and merchants. Near the bridge, Conner caught sight of several dozen mounted royal guardsmen. The queen had not yet arrived.