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CHAPTER TEN

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Cantrell stared at the seventeen elves that Vanador had identified as smelling funny. They had been sniffed and pulled aside for additional questions regarding their relationship with the former emperor or his extended family. The facial features of the ten males and seven females bore little resemblance to the ones Cantrell remembered from his adventures as a semi-professional assassin. One of them did look like an archer that he had hastily stabbed through the brain on a balcony. It had been a near thing. The bowman had almost managed to pivot into a firing position on him. The Ardwella/Zinariya entwining had created a skilled assassin with the ability to teleport. It had devastated the rebellion led by Argent’s daughters. Only two of them had avoided death from Ardwella’s sword. And that was only because they had left the Capital looking for dragon eggs.

“You!” Cantrell pointed at the elf in question.

The elf paled. ”M-me?”

“Do you have a brother?” Cantrell asked.

”Look, I surrendered. I don’t want any trouble.” The elf growled. He tried to catch the eyes of a couple of the other sixteen elves standing there facing Cantrell and Vanador in the small courtyard. The other’s eyes remained steadfastly pointed straight ahead as if at attention. One of the females coughed and pushed a long strand of her hair back behind her shapely ear.

Vanador struck like a snake. His long neck propelled his head forward, and he plucked the elven archer’s brother out of the lineup, biting down on the elf, but not fatally. He dropped him at Cantrell’s feet, screaming and swearing. Cantrell nodded to Telehalla.

“Put him in the secure part of the tower for now. I may have some follow-up questions for him.” Cantrell said.

”‘He’s bleeding quite a bit.” Said Telehalla

‘Cantrell shrugged. He nodded to Vanador. A white light began bathing the screaming elf. He stopped yelling but kept swearing. After a few seconds, Vanador shut off the flow of healing magic.

The elf was still bleeding slightly, but it no longer appeared that he might die. Pulling the elf’s arms behind his back, Telehalla snapped a pair of manacles on him and led the angry elf away.

”The rest of you can go. For now.” He said. “But stay in the Capitol. Except for you.” He pointed to the female elf with the unruly blonde hair. They both waited as the rest filed out.

“Did you desire any additional help I might provide, Regent Cantrell?” She asked with a cautious smile.

"That was subtle. The cough. The hair thing. You knew that he was part of the active resistance and tried to clue me in." Cantrell said.

"You had already called him out. I was trying to help."

"What's your name?" he asked. "And what was your connection to Argent's family? This dragon, my friend Vanador here," Cantrell pointed to him. "identified you and the others by a particular scent."

"It's Daisy." The blonde elf said. "If your dragon smelled something on me, it was probably because that jerk you just hauled away was my husband."

Cantrell narrowed his eyes. "So, not a happy relationship, I'm assuming," he said.

"I was a prize bride— a gift my father gave to Robert’s family for political favor. I was fifteen at the time. I had no choice in the matter whatsoever."

"I'm sorry," he said. “So Robert isn’t a very nice guy?”

”Not to me, he wasn’t.” She replied. “People like Robert are only nice when they want something from you or are afraid of you.”

”I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Cantrell said.

"Not your fault," she replied. "It was a corrupt political system of oppression and exploitation. Nothing new for Argent's cronies. Before we go any further, I have to confess something."

"What's that?"

"I used to hate your wife, Mavis. Her brother Mandel, too. I thought they were Argent's children and part of the corrupt system that ruined my life."

"I understand, If I had known Mavis was supposed to be Argent's daughter I would have run away as fast as I could from her."

Daisy smirked. "Fate is funny," she said. "Didn't she just leave you?"

"Mavis didn't run away," he said. "I sent her. She was cracking under the pressure. She, uh... Things weren't going well for her here. She was emotionally crumbling. I sent her away to protect her from some of that."

"I see. And how are you doing under all this pressure, Regent Cantrell?" she asked.

"I've taken some steps," he said, looking at Vanador. "I'm getting by. Vanador is my emotional support animal. He gives me hugs when I can't go on." Cantrell sniffed away an imaginary tear.

Daisy laughed.

The dragon snorted. "You need to bring Esmarilla back if you are hoping for that kind of support," he said. "I can barely tolerate the scent of regular elves right now, let alone finding Argent's foul-smelling relatives for you.

"I'm sorry, Vanador. I've asked your nose to do a lot of work on my behalf, and I've barely said thank you for your efforts." Cantrell said.

Daisy didn't seem intimidated by the fact that Vanador had just chewed on her husband. Now that he had spoken, She gazed at him with awe and amazement. She walked right up to him.

"May I?" she asked, reaching out her hand.

"What do you intend to do, little elf?" The white dragon asked.

"I just wanted to touch you. Perhaps I'm not sure you are real after all," she said.

The dragon chuckled. "I promise you that I am real," he said. "But you may touch me if you wish."

Daisy reached out a hesitant hand. She patted Vanador gently on the nose.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I'm not quite sure what you are thanking me for," Vanador said.

"That's because you have probably never been powerless," she said, grimacing and not meeting the dragon's eyes. "That elf you grabbed. His name is Robert. Nobody knows how badly he's treated me. I've fantasized about being able to resist him, even just a little. You plucked him out of that line effortlessly. He was screaming and shouting. I hate to admit this, but it made my heart glad to see it. I'm just sorry that you didn't bite him harder."

The white dragon seemed to be contemplating this.

"Feeling powerless is something that I, too, have experienced. I once had a bond that was tortured for years. I had to stand by and do nothing. Argent had my bond in his jail.

"OH! Daisy shouted excitedly. "You're the dragon that was on the roof! I used to wonder why you stayed there. That has always been a mystery to me. Thank you for telling me about that."

"It is not something I am proud of," said Vanador. "But love can bind you stronger than ropes."

"You loved her? The mysterious elf in the tower? And yet you are no longer with her?" Daisy asked.

Vanador thought about it for a few seconds.

"I did love her. I do. But she has moved on. In fact, all my loves have moved on, and it's all my fault."

"So what are you going to do about that?" asked Daisy. "Just sit here feeling sorry for yourself? It seems to me like you're still stuck up on that roof. If I had power like you, I would do something. My goodness, I think you should at least try!"

Vanador stared at her. He looked at Cantrell.

"Do I have permission to be excused, Regent?"

"Of course Vanador." said Cantrell. "Take as long as you need. Thanks for all you have done for us."

The white dragon nodded, walked to the center of the courtyard, and jumped into the air.

"Thanks for taking an interest in Vanador," said Cantrell. "I think he's been struggling with that. You gave him just the right push."

"I had ulterior motives," said Daisy. "I wanted to get you alone."

Cantrell shook his head. "Sorry, been there, done that. I love my wife too much."

"The good ones always do," she said. "At least buy me dinner. I hear the cafeteria has mung beans twenty different ways. I can tell you more about the insurgency. For example, who to pick up next. Does that sound more appealing?"

"That sounds like an offer I can't refuse," said Cantrell.

The two of them walked upstairs to the cafeteria. The mung beans were excellent. Daisy was charming, informative, and a relentless flirt. So much, in fact, that Cantrell had to turn back on his conscience to avoid falling for her charms.

To curtail possible reprisal for her turning over several more traitors, Cantrell assigned her to a safe room for her in the tower. He made sure that she retired there for the evening alone.

"You're really not coming in?" she asked.

"No, sorry. I thought I made that clear at the outset," he replied.

She nodded. "Yes, you did. But I can't say that I'm not disappointed."

"He took some damage, but your husband is still alive," Cantrell said seriously. "But you should be safe from him or any of the other troublemakers here. They will never bother you again. I'll have something drawn up to make it official. As of this afternoon, the kingdom recognizes you as officially divorced."

"Then there is nothing stopping me from doing this," she said, stepping up on toe-tip and pressing her soft lips to his.

He accepted the kiss for a second but soon stepped back. He smiled but shook his head.

"Have a nice night," he said, turning and walking down the stairs.

Standing alone in the doorway to her new room, she frowned. She closed the door. It had been a risky play trying to seduce Cantrell. It had failed, but at least now she was free from her husband, Robert. He had made her life miserable since she was fifteen years old. It seemed immensely strange not to have a man controlling her life for the very first time. Perhaps instead of feeling like she needed to replace him immediately, she should try to savor the experience. Yes, that would be a healthier path. She sighed wistfully, then locked the door.

————————-

Albarad looked over his shoulder at the line of single-file horses he had tethered together. At the end of the line, Heirwyn lifted her hand and signaled with an upraised thumb. She was ready to move out. Albarad gave his mount a little kick, and the horse train began to move. He took it relatively slowly through the old part of town, letting the beautiful animals get used to the structure of the formation before kicking Star into a trot. Dust clouds rose from the pounding hooves, and Heirwynn moved from the rear to ride slightly off to the side, avoiding most of it.

Tasumakoji was not a big town. It was an elven outpost created to support the secret and nefarious harvesting of Dragon eggs for the Emperor and his family’s private use. The eggs had been full of magical energy. Knowing full well that dragons were sentient creatures made this practice especially diabolical. Other than the warden's office, most of the structures were tiny homes that had been occupied by the wardens and the people who supported them with a simple infrastructure.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Since it had been constructed for Argent's brother and his wife, the house Albarad was headed towards was an outlier. It was extremely large for the area and situated well away from the nearest neighbors. It fell outside normal elven proclivities to endure the smell of bacon cooking at breakfast time. There was even a tall fence surrounding the property. Albarad hadn’t bothered to close the gate when he had rescued Ardwynn’s horses. Now he and his equine entourage rode right through. Approaching the house, Albarad wrinkled his nose at the smell of cooking beef.

Albarad pulled to a stop, and the well-trained horses in the line did as well. He waited as Heirwynn rode up alongside him. Handing her the end of the long lead, he swung his leg over Star’s back and nimbly dropped to the ground.

“Someone’s inside.” He said. “But I don’t see any dragons in the yard. I’d better go have a quick peek in the barn.”

He jogged over and pulled on the heavy doors. They swung silently open, revealing only straw and horse-sized stalls. There were no dragons. Albarad looked back at Heirwynn, who just shrugged.

“Perhaps you should try knocking on the door,” Heirwynn said as Albarad returned and looked up at her on horseback. “While I start leading the horses into the barn.”

He nodded and started up the stairs for the porch. The house had only been constructed in the last twenty years or so. The boards didn’t even squeak. He knocked on the door.

——————-

Zinariya looked at the elf that was kneeling in front of her. He had called her a queen. That had to be a serious misunderstanding. It was, however, one that she didn't want to immediately correct. She was in a strange place, all alone. A little deference from him might come in handy. Perhaps she could learn something before being exposed as a fraud.

"What is your name?" she asked the aged elf haughtily.

"My name is Xerxes, my lady," he whispered. He sounded afraid. "Please forgive my ignorance. I didn't mean to offend. Don't hurt me."

Zinariya couldn't carry it through. She let her bluster fade. Xerxes looked so weak and pitiful. It sounded like he was genuinely afraid that she would hurt him. Perhaps it was Lothinar's kindness that made her feel this way, but Zinariya just couldn't pretend to be angry at him. She gave him a genuine smile.

"It's fine," she said. "Get up. I'm not royalty, and I'm certainly not going to hurt you."

He cringed. "I've heard that before," he said meekly. "Other dragons have tried to lure me into a false sense of security just to punish me even more severely when I least expect it.”

"Well, not me." she insisted. "I promise that I'm not going to do that.”

"That's wonderful news," Winston said. He hopped to his feet and winked at her.

She jumped straight back. That feeling of fear returned along with surprise.

"Oh, pardon me. Don't be alarmed. It was just a little test." he said, smiling. "You passed!"

"What are. you talking about?" she almost shouted. Now she nearly did want to hurt him, a little bit at least, For scaring her.

"Where are you coming from?" he asked, still maintaining his grin. "I don't recall seeing you in the transport room before. Are you new? You look a bit new. You're eyes look like a shiny pennies. Wait a minute... He looked again. "You're not a copper! And you’re definitely not a brass. His eyes grew wide. “You're a gold dragon! That's impossible!"

It was at that moment that Zinariya felt Lothinar get quite concerned. It was strange to feel his emotions through the bond. It was even stranger that his worry and then, his anger were specifically on her behalf. She felt his resolve solidify into a forceful use of directed magic. Then communication was cut off. She had only been bonded for a little over an hour and a half, but now, being cut off from Lothinar, she had never felt more alone.

------------------------

"Where are you hiding the young platinum dragon Lothinar? You will turn her over to me for training and discipline. I won't ask again!"

Lothinar stood. He looked at Candasar before clearing his throat.

"Although I appreciate that you may have the best of intentions, I am not going to turn one of my bonds over to you. Not under any circumstances," he said cooly.

"YOU DARE!" Marg stood to her feet. Her body began to enlarge. She grew a full head taller than even Tundor. Although standing still at the table, the chair that she had been sitting in made a scraping noise on the floor as it slid backward to accommodate her increased bulk. Her eyes flamed into golden light, and her jaw extended. Her face took on a decidedly dragon shape and golden wings erupted out of her back. She stared down at Lothinar with fury.

Lothinar did something he had never done before. He took power. Zinariya's bond and subsequent teleport had stripped a large amount of his natural energy level away. At this point, he needed some help. He tapped into Candasar and Firestorm’s magic hard and without warning them. He felt their surprise as he instantly filled his magical reservoir with their power. To their credit, both of them masked their discomfort well. Candasar’s lustrous blue-black hair immediately changed to the color of a daytime sky. Firestorm, however, hadn’t stopped eating. She quickly took a large bite of steak, and swallowed, somehow managing to keep her hair from turning pink. Marg glanced at Candasar and if it was possible, glared at Lothinar even harder.

Focusing most of his now nearly restored power, he hit the golden dragon matriarch with a focused pulse of energy. It was not a measured magical transfer of energy like he had given Zinariya, but a high-powered blast, intending to completely disable her.

Marg rocked on her feet and winced. Her eyes grew wide and then began to roll back in her head. While she was still swaying, he hit her with another jolt, almost draining his magic dry. The dragon hybrid dropped to the floor with the sound of splintering, followed by a heavy thud, crashing through the chair that she had been sitting in.

Siophra jumped up from her seat and rushed to the fallen dragon.

"She's out!" she proclaimed. "No telling how long... whatever you’re going to do, you should hurry.”

"Get my mother!" Lothinar croaked. "Tell her to bring her sword! We need it to freeze her!."

”I hate to say this, but you should probably kill her now.” Said Michelle grimly. “While you still can.”

”We can’t.” Lothinar said, breathing as hard as if he had just run a sprint. We might need her to retrieve Zinariya. I would try and freeze her without the sword but the last trickle of my power is what’s keeping her down right now. She’s incredibly resilient!”

"Tundor!” Siophra said urgently. "Let's go! We need to help Lothinar by getting that sword!” The white-haired elf and Siophra ran towards the door, only to stop in surprise as a knock was heard. Siophra quickly opened it, peeking around the doorframe. On the porch was Lothinar's father Albarad.

"A bit of an emergency here, Albarad," said Siophra. "Is Ardwella with you?" she asked, looking around the yard."

"No, Just Heirwynn and a bunch of horses," he said. "I came to ask Ardwynn if I can use the barn for a while. Mine is full of dragons."

"We've got more than our share here in the house," she smirked. "One of them is pretty dangerous. Lothinar just had to knock her out. We were hoping to borrow Ardwella's blue sword to keep it that way. We were just going to rush over there and ask to borrow it."

"I've got a better idea," Albarad said. "My dragon Night-Sky will bring it over. A one-way trip is going to be a lot faster. I’ll tell him to hurry.”

"I've got the sword, Albarad, " said Night-Sky a minute or two later. "Ardwella is insisting on coming along, though. I'm going to try and give her a ride."

"Just don't let her slow you down. I think this is a matter of some urgency." Albarard said. "And don't tell Esmarilla that Lothinar had to subdue her mother. I don't know how she is going to react to that."

"I'm on my way, Albarad." But I'm sure that your wife Ardwella is not very happy with me. I just grabbed the sword and ran out the door!"

"Just get here as fast as you can. I'll deal with Ardwella later," he said. A scant few minutes later Night-Sky landed in the yard. A blue sword was clutched in his jaws. He was just in time. Albarad snatched the sword from him, pulled it from the sheath, and ran it into the house, handing it to his son. Marg had opened her eyes and was struggling under Tundor, who was sitting on her, trying to hold her down. She heaved, arching her back, and threw him off. His massive body tumbled like a giant rag-doll, crashing through chairs and breaking the top of the large dining room table. Lothinar pointed the sword at her and hit her with a blast of blue magic. She shrugged it off and stood up. He hit her again, this time jumping forward and touching the sword to her still strangely morphing body. The half-elf and half-rapidly expanding golden dragon glowed with a blue light and froze in place. She had a hideous, angry look on her face, but her body no longer moved. It stood in the dining room, a hulking twisted combination of elf and dragon. Her eyes, however, seemed to follow Lothinar as he stepped back and drew a ragged breath.

”That was close!” He said with immense relief. “Thank you everyone!”

“This is why we can’t have nice things, Lothinar.” Said Ardwynn. “Just look at my formal dining room set!”

”Take it out of what you owe me for our last trip to the Capital together,” said Tundor. “You remember that, don’t you?”

Ardwynn met his eyes and nodded grimly. “I do.” She said. Her eyes filled with tears. “Take the whole house, Tundor. I can never come close to repaying you for what the Argent taint made me do!”

The huge elf stepped over to her, reached down, and gave her a gentle hug.

“Somehow, it all worked out,” Tundor said sadly. “I think we can be friends again. You’re important to Lothinar and I’m not going to stop trusting him now. He just went toe to toe with an ancient golden dragon to save my daughter.”

”She’s not entirely saved yet.” Said Lothinar. “I still need to find a way to get to the moon. I don’t think Marg is going to be willing to cooperate.”

”Are you talking about Chelseben?” Asked Albarad. “There isn’t much up there to see anymore. Why would you want to go there?”

Lothinar stared at his father. His jaw was hanging slightly open. He closed it. “How do you even know about Chelseben?” He asked incredulously.

”My maternal grandmother took me there a few times when I was quite young,” his father answered. “There used to be a functional portal in the Capital. It may not even work anymore. I’m sure nobody’s used it in years. It’s probably out of power.”

” What kind of power are we talking about?” Asked Lothinar.

“Strange power,” said Albarad. “My grandmother used to call it ‘Legtricity’”

“YOU FOOLS!” Came the sharp jab of thought directly into Lothinar’s mind. Somehow it was Marg. Though physically immobilized, she was somehow still awake and conscious. “YOU'RE PLAYING WITH THINGS YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND!”

”What I do understand is that you came into our home and demanded that I surrender one of my bonds to you. That was never going to happen.” He said back telepathically.

This was not the instant communication of a shared bond, but rudimentary mind speaking like he had used on Tundor when they had first met. This form of communication took considerably more effort to transmit the words. With his dangerously low magic level, replying to Marg had made his low-grade headache get worse. He began rubbing his temples.

”Are you feeling alright, Lothinar?” Firestorm asked. “You have a strained and painful look on your face.”

"I think I'll be alright in a while," he said. "Somehow, Marg is still able to communicate with me, even with her body immobilized."

"That makes me very nervous," Michelle said, backing up a few more steps.

"Me too!" said Lothinar. "Watch her for me, Michelle; I've lost contact with Zinariya myself. My magic must finally be that low. I need to eat something. What Firestorm did by eating as I took her power reminded me that our bodies need nutritional sustenance to make magic."

"Hold on, Lothinar," Michelle said. "You're forgetting me. I can transfer power to you as well. Remember how I augmented Candasar during the fight with the Rocs?"

"Of course!" he said awkwardly. "It's just that you're not my bond, and our relationship is not quite the same." He suddenly looked embarrassed. "I guess I forgot to ask."

A cool invigorating energy began to flow into him from the Michelle/Vanquish entwined pair. Lothinar's headache faded, and he immediately felt better.

"Thanks," he said. "That felt surprisingly intimate."

"There's a lot more where that came from," said Michelle blushing a little. "Don't hesitate to ask."

Lothinar refocused his thoughts on Zinariya.

"Zinariya! Can you hear me? Are you all right?"

"Oh my! Lothinar! Thank goodness. I was so worried. I just got this horrible image of Marg growing larger, and then everything went silent from you!"

"We're fine here now." He said. "We managed to subdue Marg, But that certainly could have gone either way."

"Lothinar, this is important. I want to tell you this fast in case we lose communication again." Zinariya said. "Marg has been holding the people up here in Chelseben hostage for almost seven hundred years! Supposedly she was working with Argent. He would never have been able to stay in power if they could have returned to the planet. They are about to throw me a party! I'm going to be their way home!"

”That’s wonderful Zinariya.” Lothinar replied. “Did you tell them that we captured Marg?”

”No, hold on a second….”

Lothinar looked at the Golden. He knew the scowl on her face was made during the conflict. He had no way to judge her current mood. He strongly suspected that it had not improved.

“Kill her, Lothinar! They say that spell will never hold her, at least not for long!”

He took another quick glance at Marg. She was getting bigger. The blue sword’s power over Marg had begun to fail! Before he could act, Rose plunged an extremely long knife into the golden dragon’s right eye. It was one of the butchering knives they had used to disassemble the cow they had just eaten. Lothinar had seen her with it but had just assumed she was going to use it to get another steak. Marg stopped getting larger. There was no blood whatsoever when Rose yanked out the knife and stabbed the blade into the other eye. She let go of the knife and spun toward Lothinar. Behind her, Marg’s vertical body fell backward, crashing to the floor and destroying yet another chair. The room got silent as everyone stared at Rose.

“I think she was about to get loose! I’m sorry, Lothinar, I guess that means Zinariya is probably going to be stuck up in Chelseben for a long time.” She smiled apologetically, but Lothinar could tell she wasn’t too sad about that.

“You reacted very quickly, Rose. It’s almost like you were already contemplating how to kill Marg before she started to break free.” Said Lothinar. “Even though that would have permanently stranded Zinariya in Chelseben. Not that I shouldn’t thank you for taking decisive action. That was absolutely the right thing to do. You probably saved us all.”

”I think I told you that, Lothinar,” Michelle said. “An angry golden dragon is a true calamity!”

Siophra squatted by the body. “Dead. But it’s kind of hard to tell what with her body still under at least some of the sword immobilizing power.” She grimaced, then grabbed the knife handle and rotated her wrist in a circular motion to move the long blade around inside the skull. She glanced up to see everyone staring at her morbidly.

She chuckled grimly. “Just trying to make sure.” She said.

Lothinar walked over with the blue sword and touched the golden dragon’s body. The blue sheen disappeared, but Marg stayed down

“It looks like she actually is dead.” He said sadly.

“Better her than all of us.” Said Michelle. “If she had somehow realized we had access to a second golden dragon, she would have definitely killed both you and Candasar. Probably Tundor too. Somehow the three of you broke the rules and were able to create Zinariya. That’s supposed to be impossible.”

”I was thinking about how she helped me and Candasar restore all those dead humans in Delora. I appreciated that. I am sure we still have a lot to learn about magic. Marg could have provided many answers if she hadn’t been so self-serving.”

”Not everyone is so altruistically concerned about others, Lothinar.” His Mother, Ardwella, was standing in the entryway. Despite Night-Sky running off with her sword and leaving her behind, she had finally made it. She continued. “It took a few minutes, but I convinced Esmarilla to bring me over.” She looked at Marg, laid out on the floor. “Are you going to tell her that you killed her mother, or am I? She’s out in the yard.”

Lothinar sighed. “I’ll tell her. It will probably go better coming from me.”

Rose stepped up with him. He gave her a strange look.

”What? I’m not going to let you go out there alone.” She said.

Lothinar leaned over and kissed her tenderly. Then again, with more passion. Her lips were exceedingly warm. She blinked at him in surprise. Then she began grinning.

”That was nice. Thank you, Lothinar. Now, if Esmarilla kills me, I’ll die happy.”

”She’s not going to kill you. She’d have to get through me first.”

Rose reached up with her lips and pressed them to Lothinar’s yet again.

“I’m going back to using Firestorm as my name for both shapes,” she said. “So that you are never tempted to forget how my warm lips feel against yours.”

”I won’t forget.” He said. “But I think the best is yet to come.”

”You have no idea.” Said Firestorm. "But after I get back from seeing Michelle on her way, you're going to."

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