Chapter II

  Drake spent the rest of the morning being instructed by a rather dull and stiff boy who never seemed to laugh. Dolmont, who had dark hair and light gray eyes, seemed so uncomfortable around Drake that he gave up trying to win the older boy over. Again, his time and patience were too short to bother with friendships, so when noon came, Drake thanked him and bid him a polite and formal farewell. At the high table, he sat in moody silence beside an equally moody Rhey and kept his head down over his plate. Archery lessons were something Drake was looking forward to and this stiff and cold boy put a damper on the only thing he ever really loved to do: weapons training. He risked a glance at the table where he knew Dolmont sat with his friends and saw them laughing and pounding the table, glancing in his direction. He didn’t need all his smarts to know who they were joking about. Drake took a calming breath and resisted the urge to give them all a good thrashing right here in front of everyone.

  “What has you so upset?” Rhey asked.

  “Nothing of importance,” he shrugged off moodily.

  “I see,” she said looking daggers at the laughing boys.

  “What has you so upset?” he asked in return.

  “Mother caught Lord David dragging me back to my room,” she sighed theatrically. “She’ll have me reading scrolls from sunup to sundown for the next moon at this rate. If I finish one, she comes bouncing in with three more.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lady Nelver bounce,” he said thoughtfully.

  “It’s horrifying,” she shuddered.

  They both laughed and were careful to avoid looking at the glares of Lady Nelver. Drake thought he heard, though he must have been mistaken, his mother suppress a laugh on his left. It was no secret that Lady Nelver was a woman who took herself seriously and tried, aggressively, to make everyone around her act accordingly. Lady Rosoline could be heard, only by troublesome little children that found their way into secret places they didn’t belong, telling her best friend to loosen up. It was hard to imagine the tight-lipped, stern looking woman bouncing anywhere, yet it made Drake smile after his disappointing morning. Just then, he was grateful for the little monster at his side. His shoulders squared, just a little, and his head was not quite so bent over his plate.

  “Would you like some help with your reading?” he offered, feeling he owed her for the help she just gave him.

  “When wouldn’t I?” she asked brightly, “yet knowing mother, I doubt she’ll allow it.”

  Drake turned and pushed his head out further over the table. “Lady Nelver, would you mind if I helped Rhey with her studies?”

  He knew immediately it was a mistake to ask such an innocent question. Lord David dropped his fork halfway to his mouth, Lady Rosoline stared at him curiously and Master Mathew looked dumbfounded. Lady Nelver’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “You’re offering to help her?” Master Mathew asked shocked. “David, did you hit him on the head?”

  “No, I swear,” he said quickly. “It was the other way around, and I have the lump to prove it. Since when do you offer to help her, boy?”

  “Since now,” Drake said looking at his father dangerously, “and if you continue to tease me, I’ll give you another lump.”

  David and Mathew laughed, yet Lady Nelver was not satisfied.

  “I don’t trust you,” she said cautiously. “You have something in mind.”

  “Like what?” Drake asked hotly. “Since when am I not to be trusted?”

  Lord David reached around his wife and smacked him in the back of the head. Drake let him, even though he could have avoided it, because he knew he deserved it for his lapse in manners.

  “Since the two of you take to curling up together on the eastern wall,” she said sternly. “Next think I know, you’ll be wanting to find ways to be alone together.”

  “They have been alone together more times than you and I have,” Master Mathew said sensibly. “More than that, you know Rhey as well as I do; if she wants to be alone with him, she will find her way.”

  “They’re children,” Lady Rosoline said trying to reason with her friend. “Besides, Drake was born knowing where to draw the line. I think it will be a few more years before I’m worried about them being alone.”

  “And I’m not so sure you will ever be worried about it,” Lady Nelver said darkly.

  “Enough,” Lord David cut them all off. “I say if it will make you happy Nelver, post a guard and leave the door open, yet I want you to know that you’ve already piqued your daughter’s interest and I would be very surprised if Drake ends his birthday without the just rewards of knighthood from his fair maiden.”

  “Very well put my husband,” Lady Rosoline smiled, “yet I think you should allow your fair maiden to bestow the best of rewards on her knight before you go off discussing others’ rewards.”

  Lord David pretended temporary deafness and blushed, shifting his eyes around as if searching for an excuse to change the subject. Lady Nelver heard none of this; she was wrapped up in an argument with her husband about whether they should be allowed to be alone together anymore. Rhey used the distraction to grab Drake’s wrist and sneak out of the hall unnoticed. For all his might, he was powerless against the twelve-year-old girl that dragged him down the hall and into the seldom-occupied library. There she pulled him into the back where all the religious scrolls were kept—where few people would ever be found—and sat him down forcibly in one of the wooden chairs at the table.

  “I’ve been looking for an opportunity to get you alone since this morning,” she said rolling her eyes. “I wanted to give you something.”

  She pulled a locket from her dress and slipped it over his head. It was nothing special or ostentatious, just a simple silver locket.

  “I put a lock of my hair in there so you could always have a piece of me close to your heart,” she said blushing furiously.

  Drake looked at the locket curiously for a moment, set it against his chest, and patted it fondly. Rhey was mischievous, troublesome, and always required his attention, yet she was never exactly mean to him. Suddenly, he realized how much he cared for her. Here he had a friend that he could always talk to as an equal, and just then that was more important than any trinket she or his father could have ever given him. He looked up at her and smiled appreciatively. She bent forward and kissed him on the cheek. It was a quick, affectionate kiss, yet a kiss nonetheless. They both blushed before he gave her an equally quick kiss on the forehead, which was no less affectionate. Their embarrassment only lasted a moment before they both realized there was nothing special about all the kissing the adults had been talking about.

  “That was rather anticlimactic, wasn’t it?” he asked dubiously.

  “I don’t think we did what they were talking about,” she replied thoughtfully. “I think they’re talking about kissing on the lips like they do.”

  She shuddered.

  “I hope you don’t mind if I forgo that particular act at the moment,” she said wrinkling her nose.

  “Not at all,” he said relieved. “I think all that kissing they do is just a little disgusting.”

  “Me too,” she agreed.

  They both felt much better after that, yet didn’t have long to enjoy it. Not a moment later, Lady Nelver was there roughly pulling Rhey away from Drake and their quiet spot, yelling like she hadn’t done since the forge incident. Drake carefully hid the locket under his tunic in the confusion. He was sure Rhey didn’t get it honestly. Lady Nelver tried taking Rhey over her knee there in the library, yet Drake felt oddly protective of his newly realized friend.

  “Don’t do that Lady Nelver,” he said as politely as he could manage at seeing someone attempting to cause Rhey pain. “It was my idea, punish me.”

  “You’ll get yours too,” she snapped. “Don’t you worry about that.”

  Her wrist was caught in Drake’s hand before she could manage the first slap. Taught all his life that women were never to be harmed, he held her wrist firmly, even threateningly, yet easily enough that he would not cause her harm.

  “As I said,” he told her firmly. “Punish me; she was innocent in this. If you really feel it necessary to punish her as well, punish me twice as much and make her watch, yet don’t lay a finger on my charge. Especially when I say she’s innocent.”

  “The more you interfere now, the worse it will be for her later when she doesn’t have you around to protect her,” Nelver growled.

  “If you do that, you’ll never be able to separate us again,” he said sensibly. “Please calm down Lady Nelver, it’s not worth the fight.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down, little boy,” she spat. “I will teach you both to not go sneaking around kissing and such.”

  “Mother,” Rhey said trying to sound reasonable from Lady Nelver’s lap, “I don’t have any interest in the adult things you’re talking about. That’s not what we were doing here. I just wanted to give Drake his birthday gift without all the embarrassing comments from the four of you.”

  Lady Nelver looked like she was thinking about it past her anger. As a sign of trust, Drake let go of her wrist which seemed to help the situation a little. She looked at them appraisingly before deciding to be sensible.

  “I’m sorry children,” she said reluctantly. “I suppose I may be overreacting just a little. It’s easy to forget you’re still so young.”

  She let Rhey up and left, shaking her head as she went.

  “That was close,” Rhey sighed with relief. “I really thought you were going to hit her.”

  “You should know better than that,” he chided her gently.

  Taking Lady Nelver’s disappearance as a sign that Rhey was no longer confined to her room, which they both knew was not the case, they walked into town to find something more interesting than the lessons they should have gone to.

  The town of Borom was an exceptionally clean place in Drake’s eyes. On some of his trips with his father, they had come to some rather unsavory places where the townsfolk could care less, and the lords or barons had been very heavy handed in their taxes. The working class, as it was known in Curew, worked their lives away to pay their taxes to the lords and meek out some sort of comfort. The lords then gave their taxes to the barons, who gave their taxes to the king. Lord David, along with receiving this land, was not required to give taxes to the king except in wartime. Because of that freedom, Lord David didn’t require much in the way of taxes from the people here and instead instituted a law that time spent working off taxes was instead time to keep the town clean. As his father had said, it took time to get such an idea working properly because people were confused, yet once people understood what he meant, it worked as easily as anything else.

  The main road, which winded down the hill Borom was build upon, was designated to be for merchants. The buildings along the road housed shops for permanent merchants and citizens while in the street were stalls for those who traveled about the kingdom. While all the buildings within the city had red roofs and whitewashed walls, banners of every color lined the street, each attempting to grab a potential customer’s attention. The merchants called out to people to tempt them with this pretty trinket, or that delicious food; smells, sounds, and sights each trying to outshine their neighbors. Drake bought a bag full of sweetmeats for he and Rhey to share as they wandered the main street.

  They spent the afternoon walking the streets of the town, watching the entertainers, and looking at the new things brought in for sale. When the streetlamps started to be lit, they decided to head back to the castle for dinner and their chastisement for not going to lessons.

  “Where have you two been?” Lady Nelver demanded when they reached the head table and took their seats.

  “In town,” Rhey shrugged innocently.

  “When you should have been in lessons?”

  “I just wanted a day off,” Drake lied easily.

  The truth was, he just wanted time alone with his only friend. It had been a rather nice afternoon; Rhey didn’t tease him much and they both seemed to be contented with just being together.

  “He has been working rather hard lately,” Lord David admitted. “Would you like to come to the capital with me?”

  “Why are you going there?” Drake asked.

  “The Mondallians are getting restless,” he said.

  “A war is coming, isn’t it?”

  Drake was not keen to see a war start when he was so young. Maybe when he was old enough to join, yet to go to war now wasn’t any fun. No king in his right mind would send a twelve-year-old into battle, no matter how strong he was.

  “It looks to be,” Lord David said regretfully. “Luckily, I won’t go unless things get out of hand. King George just needs to gather his generals for planning. I’ll be back in a moon at most.”

  “It’s all right,” Drake decided. “I think I’ll just take a day or two and go to the forest. I didn’t like Tarmin all that much and I think Prince Eric is growing to be an arrogant ass.”

  Lord David laughed.

  “As is his father,” David added. “It’s the way of the high court to be arrogant asses. That’s why we don’t live there.”

  “Take Rhey with you when you go to the forest,” Mathew told him. “I think she’s getting restless being stuck in the castle all the time.”

  “Yes, Master,” Drake said trying to sound reluctant. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure she would like the forest as much as he did, yet he was glad for the time alone with her. He suddenly felt eyes on him and when he glanced, he saw that his mother was staring at him curiously.

  Lady Rosoline was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt, yet she was as intelligent as she was beautiful. The appraising look she gave him, then Rhey, made him a little nervous. She seemed to be gauging them for something. She said nothing, yet when she looked away, Drake could have sworn she was smiling in a self-satisfied way. He tried not to be too anxious about it; Lady Rosoline always followed the beat to a different drum than the rest of the adults and could be found twisting events around her to meet her own inconceivable ends. Drake had found her doing so often. He thought, surely someone of her time and position must have done things like that as their profession. Lady Rosoline had twisted and manipulated couples into love rather than lust without them ever being aware she knew of the relationship, which would in turn strengthen family ties, and more than once, settled disputes between townspeople. Men and women sought her advice on many different things, from relationship advice, to business, and even law. All of Borom bowed to her wisdom. That was why Drake was often afraid of what his mother thought. She had a plan up her gown’s sleeve, and it could only mean the something was afoot, and it involved Drake and Rhey.

  He went to sleep that night wondering what she had planned, yet the thought of unraveling Lady Rosoline’s mind was beyond his mental skill.

  He woke the next day and belted on his sword and, smiling at the addition of his daily routine, the dagger he received from his father. The table was subdued considering Lord David and Master Mathew were leaving for Tarmin. The prospect of another war was not to the liking of the adults, even though Drake thought it would be nice for his father to remind the Mondallians of his greatness. Sometimes people had to be reminded of their betters, and who better to succeed at that than his own father. He ate quietly and left them to their grim discussions for the practice field and his new instructor. The boy Dolmont was already waiting for him before the straw, human-like targets.

  “Are you ready, Lord Drake?” he asked trying without much success to conceal his dislike.

  Drake sighed reluctantly and nodded. He took up his bow and practiced while Dolmont gave him vague instructions. Drake tried to be on his best behavior, yet his annoyance got the better of him before long.

  “What’s your problem?” Drake snapped irritably.

  “My lord?” he asked quizzically. Apparently, this boy thought Drake some brainless child, which increased Drake’s agitation.

  “Why do you think so little of me?” Drake demanded. “Be honest; I don’t have the patience for delicacies.”

  “I don’t understand my lord’s question,” he said bowing his head in false apology.

  “Yes, you do, you just don’t want to admit it,” Drake accused angrily. “And stop calling me ‘my lord.’ I hate that.”

  “That is your title, Lord Drake,” he pointed out.

  “I wouldn’t care if I were a prince, stop using my title. It grates on my nerves when people go around bowing and saying ‘my lord’ like I’m some demanding little brat. When was the last time I demanded someone bow to me?”

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  “It does?” Dolmont asked obviously not believing a word of it.

  “Yes, it does,” Drake assured him. “If there is one thing I can’t stand, its people thinking they must be formal because I’m part of the noble’s family. My father is lord, not me. I still get to afford to be a boy and damn the titles.”

  “You’re just trying to trick me so I get into trouble,” Dolmont accused after a moment of thought.

  Drake wanted to punch him for his ignorance.

  “If I wanted to get you into trouble, why would I be standing here trying to reason with you?” he snapped.

  “But you spend so much time getting those philosophers into trouble and arguing about what they’re saying,” Dolmont said.

  “That’s just a game I play with Rhey to keep her distracted. She can be irritating otherwise,” Drake admitted, “though I wouldn’t say anything to her about it if I were you,” he added quickly. “I don’t think I would take too kindly to a betrayal of trust, and they deserve every bit of it. Besides, do you have any idea how much fun it is to fight those arrogant old men on their own ground?”

  “I can barely understand what they’re saying,” Dolmont snorted. “How should I know what it’s like to fight with them?”

  “It’s not all that difficult to understand,” Drake said shooting an arrow. It missed the head by three inches. He frowned at the target as though it offended him. “If you think too much about what they say, you’ll miss the point entirely.”

  “How so?”

  “Philosophers are not all that smart,” Drake told him. “What they’re doing is speaking on concepts and ideas of the world as they see them. The problem is they act like just because the philosophers had those ideas, they’re the only ones who could be right. The only thing a good philosopher can teach is to think freely, which these ones couldn’t do if it saved their lives. Take this for example: Women are not trained to fight, are they?”

  “Of course not,” Dolmont scoffed. “Women are too delicate to fight.”

  “Yet they are the ones that give birth.”

  “That’s not so hard,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

  “Have you ever seen the birth of a child?” Drake asked. “I doubt it if you’re saying it’s not difficult. Imagine I stabbed you in the gut with a quiver of arrows and instead of dying, you had to endure the pain until it passed naturally.”

  Dolmont shuddered, eyeing the arrows he had stuck in the ground. Drake shot again and missed.

  “So, you’re saying women should be allowed to fight?” he asked doubtfully.

  “No, I’m saying its foolishness to deny them the chance. Women are no less able than men, yet we, as men do not allow them the opportunity to try if they so wished. Why do you think that is?”

  “Because men are more powerful?” he chanced.

  “Not so,” Drake disagreed. “Women might have more delicate forms than we do, yet their muscles can be trained as ours, the proof of that is in some of the older female servants, yet they aren’t as vicious as we are, or so they would have us believe. That, so far as I can see, is the reason men think women are less able than we, yet the difference is so slim that it matters not. Honestly, I would prefer a woman beside me in battle, protecting her children to the death, than I would a man. Men have a code of honor when fighting each other that comes naturally to us because our fathers have taught us that honor all our lives. Women, on the other hand, do not have that sense of honor to be bound to. How many times have you seen a woman beat up on a daughter’s suitor that took too many liberties?”

  Dolmont laughed in reply.

  “That is an opinion I’ve come up with by watching others. Philosophers would have told you the same thing, if that were their opinion, yet they would have said it in a more roundabout way. Their job is to make you come up with your own opinions on the matter, yet instead, the ones we have here like to dictate their opinions as if they were law. That is why I don’t like them, and that is why I will argue to the whipping post.”

  “So, what you’re trying to say is that philosophy is just people trying to argue their opinions?” Dolmont asked trying to understand something new and almost otherworldly to his way of thinking.

  “Basically,” Drake agreed. “It gets more complicated as you go along, but you get the general idea.”

  He notched another arrow and prepared to shoot. Dolmont, in a sign of friendship, corrected Drake’s form. When he released the string, Drake’s arrow struck true for the first time. He almost leapt in exultation.

  “When you aim,” Dolmont instructed. “Bring the target to your arrow, instead of sending the arrow to the target.”

  Drake looked at him quizzically, then shrugged. He picked up an arrow and walked up to the straw target, sticking it in the heart. As he returned, Dolmont was given over to fits of laughter, and it took several long moments before he calmed, yet it was far more comfortable between them from then on. Drake happily realized he made another friend that morning.

  Lord David and Master Mathew left at noon that day. Drake and Rhey weren’t happy about seeing their fathers go, yet they both understood why. It was necessary for Lord David to be there to help put a stop to the war before it began, and Master Mathew was with David whenever there was a need for show. Having spent most of his life beside David, Mathew had earned his place in the legends of David the Mighty. Many of the stories from their time abroad had Mathew saving David from situations he couldn’t get out of himself.

  After they had gone, Drake and Rhey escaped to the top of the north tower, looking over the forest in the distance. They stood close together as they leaned against the battlements, taking comfort in the other’s presence. Drake often was found at the top of this tower when he had things to think about. It was quiet and restful, away from the hustle and bustle below.

  “What’s the king like?” Rhey asked in a subdued voice. She was no happier about her father leaving with such danger abroad than Drake was, though he was sure they were for different reasons.

  “He’s a good man,” Drake sighed his answer. “He was never mean to me, yet he also never allowed me to be with father when they talked politics or war strategies. I always played the part of a curious little boy and played with the prince when they were talking seriously. King George has no idea how strong I am.”

  “Do you think he’ll send some men here to protect us?” she asked worried.

  “He never has before,” Drake shrugged. “Yet even if he were to take every able-bodied man here, we still wouldn’t be defenseless. Father took this castle for its strategic placement and its ability to be defended. We’re probably safer here than at the king’s own palace.”

  That made her feel better, yet she still laid her head on his shoulder anyway. Drake pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders as a cool wind blew over the wall.

  “It’s not that cold,” Rhey said taking notice. “Does it really bother you so much?”

  “I don’t like the cold,” he admitted. “I find it harder to move and my muscles get stiff. To me, there is nothing better than a hot summer day.”

  “Do you think it has something to do with not being human?” she asked thoughtfully.

  “What do you mean?” he asked confused. “I am human.”

  She shook her head. “No, you’re not,” she said looking into his eyes. “I don’t know what you are, but you’re not human. Even if my heart didn’t say so, everyone knows you’re stronger than most men. Take your fight with your father: you won fairly and were just warming up as he got tired. Lord David is the best and strongest here, yet you overpowered him easily. He struggled to take your hits like you were the adult and he was the twelve-year-old child.”

  Drake thought about that seriously for the first time. It was true he could have gone much longer than his father in that fight and he did have stronger strikes. He had to admit that it was entirely possible Drake was the strongest in Borom, maybe even Curew.

  “It’s about time you two started talking about that,” Lady Rosoline said startling them. “Don’t worry, I won’t punish you two for skipping out on your lessons this time,” she added seeing the guilty looks on their faces.

  “What do you think I am?” Drake asked.

  “I have no better idea than you,” she admitted. “May I see that dagger at your belt?”

  The request confused Drake yet he handed it to her with only a questioning look.

  “The great family heirloom,” she said fingering the silver symbol on the hilt. “There is a story that goes with this dagger. Since I’m sure your father’s forgotten it even exists, would you like to hear it from me?”

  Normally, Drake would groan and complain about having to listen to another story about history, yet he was profoundly interested in the blade. He had taken it to the Master Blacksmith to find out what exactly it was made of, because there was none better in all Curew to identify the kind of steel, or even make, yet the blacksmith, who ensured Drake he had worked with every known kind of steel there was, was at a loss. After that, Drake became very keen in finding out whatever he could about the mysterious blade. He and Rhey both nodded enthusiastically. Of course, he had told Rhey about it immediately after he rejoined her outside the forgery, Rhey having been especially banned ever since Drake burned his back.

  “It all starts with a little girl, of about eight years. She was the sweetest, most clever girl to have ever existed, much like our little Rhey," Lady Rosoline said with a fond little nudge. Rhey smiled innocently in return. "She lived in a time long ago when the world was still young and there was as yet no evil in the world.

  "This little girl was betrothed to a very handsome man that she alone believed was not to be trusted in a time that to not trust seemed to be the heresy that magic is believed to be now. She argued with her father constantly, yet he seemed to be under the spell of this young, beautiful suitor.

  “Well, on this particular time, she had fought with her father again, and in her anger stormed out for a walk in the woods to cool her temper. She crashed through the forest, lost in her own thoughts as rain began to lightly fall through the high canopy of green leaves. On and on she walked unaware of walking on trails or through underbrush deep into the afternoon and didn’t come out of her mind until twilight began settling on the forest. She stamped and cursed after noticing she was in a part of the forest she had never seen before. Apparently, to the little girl, she had no manner of fortune at all.

  “This little girl,” Lady Rosoline said gently, “didn’t have Drake's ability to find her way out of the woods or take care of herself as he has been taught, yet she was not without sense, even though her mind desperately wished to cloud with panic. No, she took a deep, steadying breath and continued along the path she was walking, hoping against hope that if she just walked straight, she might find her way out. In the breaks of trees, she could see dark clouds rolling in, carrying with them a feeling of foreboding and wicked pleasure. Something about the storm coming was not natural.”

  “You know you could be burned at the stake for talking of something being unnatural,” Drake said, trying to keep his awe out of his voice, for his mother was speaking of forbidden things as if discussing the weather.

  “As you get older,” she said in a lightly amused tone, “you will come to understand that forbidden topics are for those who fear truth and that which they do not understand.”

  “Never fear the unknown,” Drake said in the bored tone of someone who heard it too many times. “You can’t know if it’s something to fear if it’s unknown.”

  “Very good,” Lady Rosoline approved. “That was something given to the world by this very girl, yet this storm was something to be feared, as she already knew what it was. The evil suitor was coming to collect her. Instantly she panicked, all personal strength and capability forgotten. Such a brave little girl was reduced to fearful tears, she ran heedless of all but the danger pursuing her, tripping over rotting trees and fallen branches in her escape. The little girl raced down into a gully and splashed though a stream, knowing her flight was for naught.”

  Drake and Rhey stared at Rosoline breathlessly, eyes wide and mouths agape. “You see, this was no ordinary man, even by the standards of a world where magic was abundant as life itself. He had a perverse control over all aspects of life, including magic and nature. No matter where she would run, no matter where she would hide, each tree was cursed to tell the man where she was, and the storm that began lashing at those cursed trees could see from overhead. Still, she ran, hoping she could somehow escape the forest and return to the safety of her father who held power of his own.

  “She continued to run, knowing she had no chance as the hanging branches smacked her painfully as they blew in the wind, with the evil man following almost lazily behind her. Then, as she was climbing laboriously up the other side of the gully, something called to her. Not being unfamiliar with magic herself, it was more of a feeling than a call, yet she didn’t hesitate to turn and run along the deeply sloping hill towards a large rock outcropping that the feeling seemed to come from. Midway along the rock bed, it leveled out into a cliff before forming a cave mouth. Whatever it was that called her towards this place, that she hadn’t seen from the other side of the gully, was in here. The wet rocks were slippery under her soft leather boots and she almost slipped to tumble over the cliff as she tried to check for the man before receding into the cave.

  “The failing light from outside seemed to be unable to enter this cave, pitch black so one couldn’t see their hand before their face. In the moment she entered the cave, a feeling of safety and protection washed over her, as though somehow the cave was telling her she would find peace so long as she remained there. Using the wall to guide her further back into the cave, she walked slowly so she wouldn’t slip again. Looking back once, she no longer saw the opening and risked a bit of magic. The little girl opened her palm and a gentle ball of white flame erupted in her hand, illuminating the twisting hall of the cave. Deeper she walked, now more curious about the feeling that called her than the fear of her suitor.

  “It was not a long walk, yet seemed to take her deep into the earth, the path steeply sloping, until she came to a small cavern. Inside she could feel the call so overpoweringly, there was little doubt this was its origin. She looked around and saw it would be more than suitable to keep her sustained while she hid from the man. Off to one side, there was a tiny spring filled with cool, clear water. In the center was a ring of stones obviously for a fire pit, and over on the other side, next to a healthy stack of firewood, was a rock so black it seemed to absorb the light from her ball of fire. Even to her somewhat trained understanding of magic, the power that drew her across the cavern to the rock, sitting on a cozy pile of hay, was beyond anything she knew of.

  “She never remembered actually walking over to the rock or kneeling down before it, all she could remember was staring at the rock before her with wonder deep in her soul.

  “She didn’t wonder as to why a rock, big as her torso and shaped like an oval, would be set in such a peculiar manner, nor did she wonder who the cavern might have belonged to. Her worry as to her future husband had vanished, and now she simply stared, transfixed, at the rock. For a long time she stared, mind blank of all thought, simply wondering at it. Eventually, she grew thirsty, and so she drank deeply from the spring only to realize she was also hungry and in her anger, didn’t bring any food. As if her thought had commanded it, a fire erupted in the pit and she could see a fresh rabbit happily sizzling in the flames. Thanking the gods, she carefully cooked the rabbit and ate her fill.

  “After being satisfied, she turned back to the rock. The mind-numbing wonder had seemed to wear off, yet her curiosity seemed stronger than ever. Once again kneeling before the rock, she stared at it intently, not in the wondrous way she had before, yet just as intently. She thought hard about what it might be or the reason for her very soul to resonate with this rock, for, it may have been a fascinating rock, yet it was still just a rock. The little girl reached her hand forward and touched the curious thing. It was warm under her finger and it was not coarse like she expected it to be. Extremely hard, even for a rock, it also had a glassy surface and seemed to twitch at her touch. Gently, she slid her fingers underneath and tried to lift it, yet it was far too heavy for her. Understanding then, though she knew not how, it refused to move from where it was and she would simply need to be patient, so she curled herself around it on the cozy straw and slowly faded into a gentle sleep.”

  Drake stared at his mother, now intently listening to her story yet not knowing why. It seemed to speak to him in ways nothing else ever had. He couldn’t understand how, yet this story was especially important to him. A quick glance at Rhey’s face showed she was rapt with attention.

  “When the little girl woke again sometime later, it was to the rock pulsating from within, in time with the calm beat of her heart. Well rested, her eyes opened to see the oval rock absorbing more light from the cave’s glowing fire, seeming to glow from within. She sat up to put some wood on the dancing flames, yet a strong gust of wind came from the cavern entrance and blew it out entirely. Without any light to absorb and reflect, the rock was so black that she could still see it clearly. Her hand reached out involuntarily, touching the black rock, and burned her fingers from the heat it was giving off. On the stone where her fingers touched seemed to glow silver then slowly fade into the stone. It shuddered and began to rock back and forth. Breathless, she stared as faint silver glowing cracks formed around the rock like a spider’s web starting from where she touched it. The cracks glowed brighter and brighter as she stared in wonder, and it shook violently now. Without a moment to spare, she jumped up and ran to the other side of the cavern as the rock burst apart into thousands of pieces.

  “Pointing her hand at the center of the cavern where the fire pit was, silver flames shot up to illuminate the cavern again. She walked cautiously back to the straw bed and stared for the first time at a creature new to the world.”

  Drake and Rhey stared intently and hung on to his mother’s every word breathlessly. She smiled and continued.

  “A creature so black it could be seen in complete darkness just like its egg, with great wings, a slender body, long tail, and a triangular shaped head sitting on a long neck. Its eyes glowed silver like the cracks in its egg and had long, sharp teeth and claws. That little girl had witnessed the birth of the first dragon to exist. She was instantly besotted by it as it stumbled from the nest to eat three rabbits miraculously provided by the cavern before turning to look at the girl for the first time. As their eyes met, something strange and unfamiliar to the world happened. Deep within their souls, something clicked into place, as if making them whole and connected for the first time in their lives. Feelings of love that were not her own filled her heart and her own love seemed to fill the heart of the dragon. She kneeled with open arms and the black beast walked lovingly into them to lay his head on her shoulder in embrace. His skin was soft under her fingertips and wet with the mucus of his egg. She gave him a gentle rub just over his eye which he quivered with pleasure for. Meaning to get some water to wash him off with, her hand reaching for the spring, hit a bucket of sand next to a bottle of oil and some rags. Felling this was indeed the better choice, she began rubbing the sand on his soft skin to clean him well, which he enjoyed, then began rubbing the oil in until his skin seemed to glisten with health.

  “Time stopped for the dragon and the little girl as they lived contentedly in the cave, eating when they hungered, drinking when they thirst, and bathing when they felt dirty. They played, they slept, and they loved, until the dragon grew to be larger than the girl and making the cavern cramped. By this point, the dragon had grown strong scales that appeared to be more like natural armor than skin and shone like jewels under the girl’s constant care and his mind formed intelligence, and so they learned how to speak mentally.

  “Deciding it was finally time for them to leave the safety of the cave, they made their way up and out reluctantly, almost wishing they could forever stay in that blissful cavern. After all that time, the walk back to the surface seemed unfamiliar to the little girl, yet the scene that met them and the entrance to the cave was horribly familiar.”

  “Surely after all that time the evil man stopped searching?” Rhey asked incredulously.

  “Quite the contrary,” Lady Rosoline smiled. “It was as if she never entered the cave at all. Suddenly, she was back outside and slipping on the wet rocks again. She looked up and saw the evil man as he slammed her against the wall of rocks. He grabbed her wrist and smacked hard across the face. Raising his hand to smack her again, the black dragon came barreling out and head butted the man off the cliff. Running full tilt and great wings spread wide, the little girl glimpsed hate filled, glowing red eyes before it jumped off the cliff after the man. Again and again the man screamed in pain, something she clearly remembered never hearing before, as the dragon attacked with those sharp talons and fangs. Looking out over the edge, she saw the man running away screaming in pain and fright, cursing them both, a bloody mess. The dragon was climbing the rocks with loving silver eyes. She climbed on his back and took off in their first glorious flight.

  “High over the trees they soared back to her home and father where she begged, pleaded, and demanded that the dragon stay. For many years they lived happily together, eventually finding other dragons and those they were bonded to, until they took an island for their own. The kingdom of dragons prospered under the girl and the dragon, which were, in fact, gods of a newborn race. Though they were feared by many, and understandably so as there were no better warriors in the world, just as many loved them. After years and years, the evil man returned with armies to battle against the two loving gods. You see, he himself was a god; a very arrogant god who believed the goddess was the only worthy of him.

  “The dragons and their allies battled against the evil god for a thousand years until the son of the loving gods, tricked into hating his parents, killed his father after the dragon built the Forbidden Lands to stop the war from killing the world, with this dagger, said to be made from the Dragon God’s own blood. When the son of the dragon god killed his father, the entire race of dragons, and their riders along with them, died. Realizing what he had done, the son ran back across the boundary to his allies where they celebrated him for his foul deed. It’s said that when he crossed the barrier to return, he hid himself in the very woods his beloved father had been born. It’s also said that the wood is our very own Borom Forest. Of course, every patch of trees on Top Side has been searched many times for the son of the dragon god, yet not a shred of evidence has ever been found.”

  “Is that what you and Father went looking for when he returned from the war?” Drake asked.

  Lady Rosoline laughed fondly.

  “No, we spent most of our childhood searching that forest for him,” she told her son. “When we left Borom it was to experience the world, see what was out there besides Curew and Mondall. You know those stories well enough.”

  “How did we get the dagger Avolate used to kill his father?” Rhey asked confused.

  “Drake is a descendant of Avolate, and he passed this dagger on to his son the day he was wed and gave the story to his wife. From then on, it has been passed down, father to son, and the story has been passed down through the wives of those men. We tell each son when he receives this heirloom in hopes that he doesn’t make the same mistake Avolate made.”

  “Where is he now?” Rhey asked. Drake could almost feel her desire to find the God of Mischief and the place where the Dragon God was born.

  “No one knows for certain,” Lady Rosoline told her. “Every wood on Top Side has been searched by men seeking adventure yet the god has never been found. It’s said that he lives in Borom Forest, living out his existence in misery, wishing for death.”

  She pointed out across the open plain to the forest Drake often looked at when he needed comfort. Is it really possible a god lives in those woods? he wondered to himself. He had been through those woods more times than he could count, and he knew nothing of the cave in the story or some higher power living there. It was entirely plausible, of course. He might not have been a human, if Rhey was right, yet he was no god. How could he tell if there was a higher power about if it didn’t want to be found? Drake and Rhey looked out across that plain between them and the forest, both awed by the story and curious as to its truth.