Chapter Forty-One – First Blood

Tara followed Acalon out of the Grim Syr. She wanted to be out in the open, free of the shadows and still air. The claustrophobia that she had felt after facing the Prime Dragon was almost intolerable.

Outside, Wenrik and Fell were nowhere in sight. Tara doubted that they would have remained here, so close to where dragons came and went from the mountain. She closed her eyes, letting the sun’s warm rays soak through her eyelids.

“She did not mean to hurt you,” said Acalon quietly. “But I know that the first time she links her mind with yours is often difficult.”

Tara’s eyes remained closed. She needed a moment to breathe. “Was it like that for you?”

“Yes,” said Acalon. “I resisted, as you did. It did not seem right that anyone other than Fenryx should be sensitive to my thoughts. I did not recognize then as I do now, that nothing can be hidden from Veraxyn.”

“And you’re alright with that?” Tara couldn’t keep the sharpness out of her voice. She was giddy with feelings of indignation and shock.

Acalon’s black eyes glinted. “What choice do I have? No dragon rider is recognized if they themselves do not first recognize the Prime Dragon. When Fenryx befriended me, an audience with the Prime Dragon was required. We are her eyes in the world, her ears, her wings. And it is only in the Grim Syr that we are questioned. Otherwise, we are free. During her three hundred years of reigning, Veraxyn has proved a clever and wise ruler. She has kept our mountain safe.”

Tara’s voice was barely controlled. “She hurt you.”

Acalon’s glance sharpened. “What do you mean?”

“I saw it,” said Tara. She chose her words with care, knowing that she couldn't let Acalon know what she had overheard. She still didn't understand herself. By some mysterious ability she did not understand, she had suddenly been given access to Veraxyn and Acalon’s private, telepathic conversation. “When Veraxyn was talking to you, I saw your face, how you acted. Why would she torture you?”

Acalon sought briefly for an answer. It seemed incredible to Tara that he had expected her not to notice even the physical manifestation of his discomfort. Or did he think she wouldn't care?

“Torture is an exaggeration,” he said at last. “Dragons do not think of pain as we do. They do not even feel it as we do. They are not gentle beasts, Tara. Perhaps that is why gentleness in humans intrigues them so.”

“You’re making excuses,” said Tara.

“I am trying to make you understand what has been our way for centuries,” said Acalon slowly. “I make excuses for no one. After the years I have served our people, I would certainly prefer that the Prime Dragon not threaten me…” He stopped all at once, so sharply that Tara knew he had said more than he meant to.

“She threatened you,” repeated Tara, seizing on his error. “Why? Because of me?”

She already knew, of course. She had heard the Prime Dragon’s frustration over a ‘magic’ Tara possessed that had made it impossible for her to access the young woman’s mind. She had heard Acalon’s attempts to reassure the dragon, as well as his resistance to the Prime Dragon’s command that he should somehow make Tara trust and serve Veraxyn—because the dragon knew, somehow, of Tara’s weakness for Acalon.

Just thinking about what she had heard made Tara shaky all over again. She hadn’t specifically said Tara had a “weakness." She had described Tara’s feelings for Acalon as “love.” And if the Prime Dragon was aware, the fact that Acalon knew too suddenly made his deliberate distance from Tara all the more understandable. Whatever the Prime Dragon had been saying to him about her, Tara couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be told she was loved by a complete stranger who spoke and acted like an alien in her world, and that it was her job to use this love as a way of getting information.

Acalon was watching her. He was less pale than he had been in the Prime Dragon’s presence.

“Why do you think Veraxyn would threaten me because of you?” he asked.

This wasn’t going to be easy. But Tara wasn’t about to let Acalon’s refusal to give her a direct answer slow her down.

“Because you said she wanted to see me,” said Tara. “That’s why you brought me here, to the Grim Syr. That’s why you came looking for me when you would rather never have seen my face again. Because of the Prime Dragon.”

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To her surprise, Acalon’s shadowed eyes showed appreciation. “You are a keen listener,” he said. “Yes, that is what I said. Remember that I also said she believes you are the Last Hero of Allerion. That is the power she wants to understand.”

“And how are you supposed to help her understand it?” asked Tara.

This time, Acalon couldn’t hold her gaze. He turned aside abruptly. “Veraxyn is right,” he said. “It has been a long journey. Let me show you where you can refresh yourself and rest.”

Tara wasn't finished. “You said that you’re not afraid of me,” she said. “Are you afraid of the Prime Dragon?”

“I am not a fool." Acalon’s displeasure was obvious. "Yes, I fear her. You would fear her yourself if you know her as I do. Or do you believe that because you slew a necromancer in the darkness of Wanderer’s Bane, there is no one who can resist you?”

“Is that how she leads you?” threw back Tara. “Like a necromancer, enchanting souls in the darkness and threatening them with punishment if they disobey her?”

The dragon rider’s eyes flashed. “You think you know everything about us,” he said, his voice turning low and poisonous. “And you know nothing. You know nothing of dragons, nothing of my people. Your understanding is the understanding of a child listening to tales around the fire or dreaming under the stars. What you imagine about us is nothing more than exactly that—imagination. What smoke has blinded your eyes, Tara MacQueen, to the truths of our world?”

“What truth is that?” said Tara. She couldn’t help rising to his temper. “What are you not telling me? What role do you play in this ‘truth’ the Prime Dragon has said you must follow? And what ‘just’ punishment will you face if you fail?”

Tara wasn’t sure what happened then. The furious light went out of Acalon’s gaze as quickly as if someone had snuffed out a candle. He stood looking at her, strangely empty.

“I will die,” he said after a moment. “There is no room in the Grim Syr for a dragon rider who does not honor the commands of the mountain.”

Tara didn’t know what to say. She had expected him to resist again, as always. He would refuse to tell her as he always did. But the brute honesty in that one statement was jarring.

“She can’t do that,” said Tara after a moment. “That isn’t—that can’t be what happens. You’re an essential character.”

“And what does that mean?” asked Acalon, still archly venomous. “What is this ‘essential’ you speak of? Is that something else from one of your visions? Something else you will hold back from Veraxyn when she speaks to you next?”

This time, Tara was numb to his assault. She spoke with the same frankness he had. “I didn’t resist her,” she said. “I didn’t hold anything back. She just—she couldn’t access my mind. And I couldn’t let her. I wanted her to. I really did. Except it hurt so badly and then everything went wrong.”

It was Acalon’s turn to be still. “That cannot be true. No one alive can resist the Prime Dragon.”

“Is this what you know?” Tara pushed back. There was no real force behind her question, only a wry kind of pain. “You know as little as I do, from a different side. If I could change that, I would. But I can’t. Everything’s gone wrong, and I don’t understand why.”

“How was it supposed to go?” asked Acalon. “What did you expect to happen, if you are the Last Hero of Allerion?”

It was a fair question. And once again, Tara had no answer. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I just—I never wanted this.” She looked around with a kind of regret. “You know for two minutes, maybe five, I think I was actually happy here,” she murmured. “This place is amazing. And dragons! Wow.” She shook her head. “Maybe it is just a dream.”

They stood for a moment, watching the movement of dragons overhead and hearing their deep, strange calls.

“This is not a dream,” said Acalon, more softly. “The rest of what you have ‘seen’ I cannot speak for. But this—it is real. Both the horror and beauty of it.”

Tara didn’t answer. She stood looking out towards the sea. Looking at her, Acalon saw suddenly how vulnerable she truly was. She looked smaller than usual, her arms folded across her chest against the constant wind, gray eyes fixed. And he was suddenly ashamed of the words he had said to her, even if he could not take them back.

“Will you come?” he said.

Tara turned to him once more. Her voice was steady. “Where are we going?”

“Your companions have probably been quartered where riders refresh themselves,” said Acalon. “There will be food and space for you to rest.”

“I don’t need to rest,” said Tara. “But I am hungry.”

Acalon was brisk. “Follow me.”

“Acalon? Will you tell me something?”

He was wary, deliberate. “What?”

“Why do you keep your face covered when you are not flying?”

The emotion in the dragon rider’s eyes was instant. Tara had wondered what he might look like if she posed the question. Knowing the answer, she had expected anger or hurt. But this cold shock was deep.

“Why do you ask?” said Acalon. The hoarse edge in his voice was a warning.

Tara could tell him the truth, and destroy the fragile, already strained alliance between them. She could lie and pretend ignorance, although Acalon clearly suspected. At this point, Tara realized, she really had no choice.

“I always wanted to tell you,” Tara said after a moment, “that there is nor reason for you to hide yourself. No reason, for you to be ashamed. You are no worse, no more flawed than the rest of us. And you are not to blame for what happened to your uncle or anyone else.”

She saw the frozen glass crack over the dragon rider’s black eyes. No, he wasn’t afraid of her, not in the usual sense. He was horrified.

Tara didn’t recognize the shriek of noise above them for an alarm. The ground shook when Fenryx landed not far from them, staggering Tara.

“What is it?” she cried over the sound.

“It is the call for defense,” Acalon said. “Bandits are raiding the hamlet below. Any available rider must go.”

“I’ll come with you,” said Tara.

She didn’t think he would let her. The shock of their conversation was still too new.

“You need all the help you can get,” Tara insisted. “Let me do something."

Acalon didn’t answer. But when he climbed the rope to Fenryx’s back, he didn’t stop her from following.