No longer frightened by the dead creature, Clara was actually becoming bored.
“How much further should we go?” asked Gannon. “And what are we looking for?”
“I don’t know, and … I don’t know.”
“Wonderful.” Muttered Gannon. Suddenly, behind them, they heard the thundercry of the beast itself.
“Gods!” cried Clara. “It’s back!”
“It?” he shouted. “I thought you said “it” was Klardir.”
“I never said any such thing!” she hissed back. “I wanted to know if it was Klardir!”
Panicking, they broke into an all out run.
“We’ll be trapped!” she yelled.
“No, we won’t. The cave opens up on the other side!” He yelled back.
“How do you know that?”
“I admit,” he said, looking behind him, “I’ve been here before.”
She didn’t have it in her to ask how. He grabbed her arm, pulling her faster ahead of them. She screamed as she realized the cave opened up into a completely lush jungle. Below them was water, and Gannon hugged her as they fell over, a waterfall spewing lower down the canyon wall.
She had squeezed her eyes shut when they were falling, but somehow, they weren’t dead. Floating in the middle of a lake, they were hidden by the frothy waters of the falls. She looked up as the red dragon, Klardir or not, barreled from the mouth of the cave, headed towards the jungle.
She watched, giddy, as Gannon breathed as easily as she did under water. He smiled at her, motioning for her to swim with him. As she did, she stared in amazement – he had a tail.
She struggled to keep up with him, and was envious. The tail most certainly helped him maneuver better. Aaeden hadn’t lied to her, he had been telling the truth. Was he telling the truth about her royalty as well?
When they finally breached the water, Gannon’s tail disappeared. He laughed at the look on her face.
“I suppose that’s another question answered.” She nodded silently. “Come on, then. You wanted proof. Let’s find your proof.”
There was no sun, but a hole in the top of the mountain allowed the moon to illuminate the entire jungle. She supposed the outside of the island was just a façade, meant to keep explorers away. Pontus included. Gannon travelled the land as if it was familiar to him, and Clara was burning to ask.
“I’ll have my one question. And you will answer me truthfully. How is it you knew of this place?”
He grinned.
“I was wondering when you were going to ask me. Can’t you feel it?” he asked.
“Feel what?” she replied.
“This is where we come from. Not inside the mountain, per say, but… here. This is where our race was born.”
She looked at him, astonished. Everything was so rich with life. Birds she’d never seen before flitted about. They were small and glowing. Perhaps, she thought, it was a side effect of never having seen the sun.
“Is my mother here?”
“One question.”
“Gannon!” she yelled, startling a creature with that reminded her of an elk. It bounded away from them, making noise the entire time. Birds also took flight, and he looked at her, terrified. She was about to ask him again when she felt it.
The overwhelming presence of a dragon.
She turned around slowly, the large gold eyes peering down at them. The dragon’s teeth were as red as it’s scales, and Clara paled as she realized it was blood.
“Talk to it.” She moaned.
“You talk to it!” he hissed. “You’re the one that beseeched it!”
Its snout came closer to them, dropping blood like rain. Clara cringed.
“Are you Klardir?” she yelled in Sumoian. The dragon only growled, and the entire ground shook.
“Gannon, do something!” she whimpered. “He’s angry!”
He pushed her aside, and let out an astonishing roar. Everything was silent.
“Why didn’t you say so?” she heard, in a deep, almost elderly voice. She looked over at Gannon, who shook his head. The dragon smiled, as best a dragon could.
Pontus, Octavious and Raven had all headed into the cave. It wasn’t long before they found the dead, decaying creature as Gannon and Clara had.
“Disgusting.” Voiced Pontus.
“But handy.” Replied Octavious, picking up a part of the tooth Gannon had left behind.
“And just how do you expect to stop them from being consumed, eh old man?”
Octavious glowered.
“I don’t know. And I’m not old.” Raven laughed. “Quiet, you.”
They eventually came upon the canyon, and realized they could go no further.
“Do you see them?” asked Pontus.
“No,” replied Raven, “but look there, it’s him.”
They saw the dragon standing out clearly against the greenery, on all fours, hunched over.
“How do we get down there? In fact, how do we even know they are down there?” growled Pontus.
“We don’t.” said Octavious. “Come on, let’s retrace our steps and see if we missed a hidden path.”
“So,” said Klardir, “you’ve come in search of the egg. And my cousin, Moyra, she is not dead?”
“No, sir.” Replied Clara. It turned out he was, in fact, Klardir. And he could speak Sumoian quite fluently.
He adjusted his glasses and shook his head.
“I should have known not to trust an outsider.” Clara laughed nervously. Klardir raised a brow.
“Lord Gannon, why is she so jumpy?”
He was then the one to laugh nervously.
“She… grew up outside of the Edge.”
“‘Lord Gannon’?” she whispered.
“One question.” He hissed. He cleared his throat.
“So you were visited by an outsider?” Gannon asked. “What did he look like?”
“He was a giant.” Replied Klardir, letting out a small burp. The wind smelled of flesh, and Clara made a face.
“He had black hair, didn’t he? And red eyes.” Klardir nodded. Clara tried her best to keep her composure. “The egg, do you have it?”
“Of course I do. I was asked to keep it safe. I always keep my word.”
“That’s wonderful,” replied Clara, “where are you keeping it?”
He pointed with a large claw to his stomach, and she blanched.
“I haven’t eaten it, if that’s what you think.” He said indignantly. “Dragons often keep their young in a special pouch that’s like a second stomach.”
“It’s usually after the dragons are hatched, but I suppose this is a … special case.” Gannon explained.
“Wait,” said Clara, “if you have only one egg… where is the other?” Klardir blinked.
“There is a second egg?” His eyes narrowed. “Morgana.” He said.
“Who?” asked Clara, and Gannon frowned.
“She’s insane. How could the giant have possibly asked her? Perhaps that’s what she wanted. He said he would be back to check on the young after it had hatched. Said he was interested in taking care of it back home. But I told him that would be foolish, no one in Sumoia knew of the existence of dragons.”
“But… he was from Valeur.” Clara said, puzzled.
Klardir shook his head.
“I was inclined to believe him. He said he wasn’t from Sumoia at all.”
Clara was infuriated. He had lied about everything, and convinced a kindly dragon to sire the youngling for himself.
“Anything to offer, Gannon?” He shook his head.
“I suppose it was stupid of me to trust an outsider. But he had the egg with him. I couldn’t say no.”
“What if Morgana has?” Clara was worried there was an abandoned egg out there, all alone and vulnerable…
Klardir looked grave.
“No, my child, she would never give up the chance for offspring. You see, that’s all my sister ever longed for.”
“Your sister?” Clara was surprised.
Klardir nodded.
“She lost everything in the Great War. The Sumoians took our land from us, gave it their name, and we came here in exile. We share a special treaty with the Sirens, who felt pity for us. Princess Cora begged her mother to agree. We are lucky to have her.”
Clara stood up, her mouth open, stunned.
“Princess Cora?”
“Yes, child. In fact, you remind me very much of her.” So it was true. She was royalty. She was instantly giddy, wanting to celebrate. But Gannon brought her back down to reality.
“We will have to get the egg back from Morgana.”
“That will not be an easy task. The dragon council is no more. Most of our kind has died out since the Great War. I’m sorry to say my sister and I are the last dragons here. All others chose exile after the dragon council fell apart.”
“Can you help us?” asked Clara.
“I’m afraid not.” Klardir let out a sigh. “The dragon council may be dissolved, but my sister and I have an understanding. We do not dabble in each other’s affairs.”
Clara wanted to throw something. She was so angry. They were up against a giant and an insane dragon. Their only chance now was a miracle.
“Will you give us the egg back?”
“Of course,” replied Klardir, “you have my word. Come to see me if you’re still living after confronting my sister.”
Clara made a face, and Gannon chuckled.
“Come on, Clara, let’s go.”
“How will we get back? Or did you not notice there are no stairs?”
“We’ll get back.” He growled, grasping her arm and practically dragging her away from Klardir.
“It’s rude to leave without saying goodbye. And who said I was finished, anyway?”
“There’s more then?” asked Gannon.
“The giant,” Klardir said, “he seems to be proficient in controlling fire.”
“What?” cried Clara, grasping Gannon’s arm. “How do you know that?”
“He had asked for something to eat. I offered to cook it for him, but he refused and did it himself. I thought this might be valuable information to you.”
It was then that Clara knew things would be impossible.
Gannon didn’t seem to be anywhere near as worried as Clara. He pushed her away from Klardir impatiently.
“We’ll be going now. Thanks for all your help.”
“My pleasure.” He replied, turning to eye his fresh kill.
They walked away, Clara still left to ponder how they would get back.
Sterling could see the entire northwest Edge from the sky. Torrin was nearly exhausted, but with the last bit of strength he had, managed to fly speedily towards Morgana's cave. It was high upon a mountain in the center of the Day. Its peaks glistened in the sun, twinkling like diamonds. The cold would be a welcome change to the scorching heat and Endless Sea.
Torrin spiraled through the sharpness and gracefully landed on a flattened peak. Sterling could hear running water and realized, despite the solidity of the mountain, cold water flowed freely over the back of the mountain to which he had not been before.
He and Torrin both drank greedily, not stopping until they'd had their fill. A loud grumbling made Sterling’s hair stand on end. When he turned round he realized the sound was coming from Torrin. It was directed at Morgana, who, despite being insane, was smart enough to be silent about her ways.
“What are you doing back here?” She hissed, her large white eyes narrowed. “I thought we agreed...”
“I have come to warn you, mistress Morgana. There are bandits on their way to steal the egg back from you.” She didn't seem phased in the least.
“How many?” she asked. Sterling shook his head.
“Could be ten, could be a hundred. I'm not certain.” He eyed the water again, his thirst returning.
“Drink up,” said Morgana, “and rest.”
“I will ask my favor in return.” Replied Sterling. “As of now you are my bodyguard and you will defend me with your life if need be.” Sterling grinned a sickly grin.
“I take great pleasure in accepting.” Hissed Morgana.
“What an honorable partnership this will be.” Chuckled Sterling. “It will be satisfying to feel Sumoian blood on my sword.”
Pontus, Octavious and Raven had all but given up in their search for Clara and Gannon.
“We’ve retraced every step of the way. They must be down there.”
Suddenly, they heard footsteps, and there were Clara and Gannon, safe and sound.
“The bloody fiat nerve you two have! Where in the six pits o’ hell were you?” Spat Pontus. Clara laughed, and Gannon’s hand found the back of his head.
“Long story. We’ll tell you on the way.” Gannon explained everything as they walked away from the cave unharmed. Clara’s body followed, but her mind was elsewhere. Klardir had proven it to her. She was royalty. She smiled, feeling relieved that even after the curse was broken, she and Mallach could continue to be together. It was like the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders.
“So you’re saying the reason we’re here in the first place is because of dragons?” Pontus asked, stopping to turn and look at Clara. Her face turned a bright shade of crimson as she finally tuned into the conversation at hand.
“I’m afraid so. I’m sorry, Pontus, I should have told you right away.”
“You’re damn straight you should have!”
She bit the inside of her cheek, breathing without moving her chest to feel calm.
“Might I?” asked Octavious, and Clara nodded. He cleared his throat.
“Mallach, or “Tresham” as you like to call him, is under the curse of the Siren. Clara’s first word was spoken to him. We need the scale of a dragon to break the curse.”
“And,” Gannon said, as Octavious looked annoyed for being interrupted, “dragons treasure their scales very much. There aren’t many of them left. So, getting them to give up one up… it takes a fiat of a lot.”
“So you asked me to bring you here to get a scale from the dragon? And?” Pontus said, flinging his hands wide. “You’re empty handed.”
“Not from that dragon.” Said Raven. “From Moyra—”
“Lady Moyra.” Interjected Clara.
“Whatever!” snapped Raven. “Something here has her eggs. We need to get them back for her to give us a scale.”
Pontus seemed to be getting angrier and angrier every minute. And it seemed that his anger was directed at Clara. He suggested they move on, and Clara hung back as far away from the men as possible.
When they reached the camp, they found Mallach searching for something, half mad.
“Damn you woman!” he yelled. “Where the hell have you been?” Frustrated, tired, and angry, Clara yelled something unintelligible and stormed into her tent. Mallach moved past all of them, Octavious not daring to stop him. The argument was between Clara and Mallach. Perhaps, he thought, it would knock some sense into the boy to be angry at her.
Reginald, the first mate, appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
“Cap’n. You had us worried ta death. Where were ye?”
He took Reginald by the arm, and Octavious watched, far more concerned that Pontus was going to leave them all on the bloody island by themselves.
Once inside the tent, Mallach exploded.
“Where were you? I searched far and wide on this bloody beach for you, and you return with not one, or two men, but four.”
“Why is it any of your concern where I was?” Clara retorted angrily, sitting down on her bedroll.
“Because I am the bloody well Prince of Sumoia, and it is my right to be told where my woman is!”
She shook her head. It seemed that every time she thought he was becoming less obsessed with royalty, he spouted something stupid because he didn’t get his way.
“You wanted to know in Valeur where it is we mate.” She shot back, changing the subject. “This is the place.”
Mallach blinked. It took him a moment to remember his almost insane tirade back in the war room shortly before leaving for Vaarin. He grinned at her then, stuffing his hands in his pockets and moving the corner of her bedroll about with his boot.
“What?”
“Well, if it is the place where you mate…”
“Mallach, now isn’t the time.”
He gave her a look of frustration, as she crossed her arms and glared at him very seriously.
“Fine.” He spat, cursing her under his breath. Little did they know, the curse was so far gone that every moment she did not shower him with affection, it grew easier for insanity to eat away at his mind.