Chosen: Book 1 in the Dragon Queen series

“Are you all right?” The voice bounced around my skull. The tone changed, worry replacing shock. “You aren’t dead, are you?”

I forced my eyes open to see a blurry figure bending to peer into my face. She gasped and started back at the sign of life. “No,” I managed. “Not dead.”

“I was so worried!” Our rescuer pressed a hand to her chest. I took stock of my surroundings. I was propped against a wall, legs outstretched. My boots were in a puddle of ... I elected not to look too closely. And Brunna was leaning against me as though we’d both drowned our sorrows and fallen, drunk, into a stupor against the nearest available wall. My head thumped as though someone was dancing inside my skull. Clumsily.

“Did you get a look at them?” I asked the woman. I wasn’t stupid. There was a lightness to my shoulders that wasn’t just the absence of Dragon. Both our packs were gone. I touched a hand to my neck. I half-dreaded, half-hoped the necklace would be gone, but the thieves had left that. Perhaps they’d known it was cursed, and laughed at the stupidity of people who came to the capital in search of help and found robbers instead.

“I didn’t really see them.” Our helper came into better focus slowly. A slender woman in plain but clean clothes, a braid shot through with grey falling forward over her shoulder as she leaned to inspect me and Brunna. She wrung her hands. “They ran when I approached.”

“We must thank you for that else maybe you might have found us dead.”

She gasped and pressed her chest again. “And just outside my home.” She shook her head. “You need a healer. That’s a nasty gash.”

I hadn’t noticed it until she pointed, then I touched my forehead and winced at the spear of hot pain that flooded through me. My fingers came away smeared with blood. The back of my head throbbed in echo. Clobbered from the back and pushed into a wall at the front, perhaps. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

The woman leaning over me looked doubtful. “We’re steps away from Mother Adlyn’s house. She’ll look you over. I’ll take you to her – if you can both walk.”

“Brun?” Despite my addled head, I remembered to use her boy’s name. No reply. I nudged her shoulder with my own, all the movement I could manage. “Brun, are you hurt?” This on top of the gash I’d already delivered. Brunna would soon regret offering to accompany me to Muirland City.

She groaned and opened her eyes. “What happened?”

“Thieves.” Pa would have my hide for being such an easy target. He hadn’t raised me to be an idiot.

“Have they taken—”

“Everything. Pretty much. Our packs.” We still had the cursed necklace. A shame the robbers hadn’t taken that – it would have served them right.

Brunna staggered to her feet and leaned against the wall. Her fingers quested at a particular spot on her scalp and she hissed a breath, but when she took her hand away there was no blood on her fingers. “Your cap must have protected you,” I said.

“I’ve a lump the size of an egg,” she grumbled.

“The bad news is that we probably both need the attentions of a healer, but the good news is that this lady will take us to Mother Adlyn who is one.”

Brunna nodded, then halted the movement abruptly and put her hand to her head as though it needed steadying. I knew how she felt.

I straightened and dabbed at my forehead with my sleeve to clear the worst of it. “Lead on, please,” I offered, hoping our saviour was as harmless as she seemed and not part of a further scheme to capture robbed visitors and, perhaps, sell them into slavery. The way our day was going, that would make the perfect twist. And it wasn’t even lunchtime.

~

Our rescuer led us down two more streets, then stopped and rapped at a blue door.

“Who’s there?” called a voice from inside.

“Adlyn, dear, we need your help. These poor people were set upon by ruffians.”

By thieves, actually, but I didn’t correct the woman. Mother Adlyn didn’t need the details of our sad story.

“How dreadful. Come in, then!” The door was wrenched open from the inside.

A girl only a few years older than myself stood within. It was difficult to make her out properly. The city had grown darker as we’d left the wide, dazzling square behind and entered small streets where the houses nudged together and leaned close on each side, blocking out much of the light. And I was still having trouble focusing on details.

“Come in, come in,” she urged. I stepped inside, Brunna at my elbow. Once inside, everything dimmed further, the only light coming from a fire in the grate and a smaller, mobile brazier set on a wide table that took up most of the room.

“I’ll leave them with you,” our saviour said. The door snapped shut. I looked surprised, because there was only the girl inside the room. Maybe Mother Adlyn was in a back room somewhere.

“Sit down. I see the wound at your brow. Are there any other injuries you’re aware of?”

I glanced around, expecting Mother Adlyn to walk in. The girl saw the roaming of my eyes and smiled. “My neighbour didn’t introduce us. I’m Mother Adlyn.”

I focused on her with an effort. “You are?” The young woman who faced us looked scarcely older than me, well-scrubbed and wearing a neat cap that kept her hair off her face, sleeves rolled up ready for work. She barely looked old enough to be anyone’s mother. I’d taken her for an apprentice, or perhaps the daughter of the woman we sought.

She laughed. “You’re not the first to make that mistake. I know my business well enough.”

Heat rose in my face. I didn’t like to be judged for my age, so I shouldn’t do it to another. “Of course. I didn’t mean ... anything.”

“We’re grateful for your help. We’ll find a way to pay you,” Brunna promised optimistically.

She waved Brunna’s statement away, pale fingers flitting across the air like fireflies. “We’re not without compassion. Let’s see what I can do for the two of you, first.” She waved us on and we sank onto a settle before the fire.

Mother Adlyn did something at the table and then crossed the room to us. She set two tankards by the fire and poured hot water onto them from a kettle steaming over the flames. Taking a taper from the fire, she lit a lantern, snagging it over a hook set into the ceiling above the settle where it cast light on the pair of us. “Now, let me have a look at you. Just arrived from the countryside, hmm?”

I grimaced as she tilted Brunna’s head, confident fingers prying through her hair to find the lump. “Does it show?” I asked.

Mother Adlyn shrugged. “Your fashions are different, and your accent marks you out. It’s a simple deduction to make.” She moved around Brunna, checking her ears and eyes and bidding her to open her mouth so she could see inside.

“My father would skin me alive for being caught out so easily. I’m too old to be so stupid.”

She paused to meet my eyes, sympathy filling her expression. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s an unpleasant lesson, but you’ve learned it now.” She turned back to Brunna. “There’s little wrong with you that won’t be cured by rest.” She ducked to the fire and fetched one of the tankards. “This will help build your strength.”

“Thank you.” She cupped the mug with both hands and took a sip.

“Now.” Mother Adlyn turned to me with a smile. “Let’s have a look at you, young lady.”

“A blow to the back of the head, and a scrape to the front. I think a headache is the worst of it.”

Her smile widened. “Are you trying to do my job for me?”

“I just don’t want to waste your time, not when we have nothing...” I swallowed. “Nothing to offer in thanks.” We’d lost our money, the dragon shell; everything. Any chance of a cure for Pa was slipping out of my reach, and that mattered more than a bump on my head.

She set a hand on my shoulder. “And I said you shouldn’t trouble yourself over that. Let me have a look at your head.” She washed the wound on my forehead, her gentle touch tickling, expression intent as she assessed the damage. She smiled and met my eyes. “You were right – just a scrape. I’ll clean it, then it needs only air.” She moved to stand behind me. “Now, let’s see if your bump is bigger or smaller than your friend’s, shall we?”

Her fingers pried unerringly at the spot. I hissed and jerked away. “Sorry. I see it.” The pressure lightened. “Just a lump. A little smaller than your friend’s I think,” she judged. “You’ll likely have a headache for a day or two, but the pair of you need nothing more than rest.” Her fingers slid to the back of my neck, pushing firmly as they looked for more damage, sliding down the first few inches of my spine.

I stiffened and grabbed at my scarf to tighten it, but I was too late. Her fingers halted when they reached the necklace, the silence growing thicker.

Her hands fell away and I tightened my scarf, pushing the necklace out of sight. “I’m sorry, I won’t be able to do anything about that,” she told me quietly.

“Nor do I ask you to,” I said, with what dignity I could manage.

I sensed rather than saw her nod. Then she returned to business, mixing powders and adding them to the tankard of hot water. “Here.” She offered me the drink. “It will help you heal.”

“Thank you.” I breathed in the steam. Just the scent of it made me feel better. I took a deep drink; it was a perfect temperature. I closed my eyes at the taste and relaxed, the tension in my limbs ebbing away as though my body finally understood the danger was past.

Mother Adlyn took the comfortable seat beside the fire where she could see both of us. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “You’ve come a long way. What brought you to Muirland City?”

“My father is sick. I hoped to find a cure.”

“Sick? Perhaps I can help. What ails him?”

I squirmed. I didn’t want to speak the word. But perhaps Mother Adlyn could help, and then we wouldn’t need to ask the mages to give a cure when we had no Dragon to exchange. “I think it’s a magical illness.” I shook my head, shaking away the languor the drink had placed in my tired body. I swallowed and picked my words carefully. “He doesn’t wake, but nor does he waste away.” I swallowed. “He’s been like that for six months now. I’ve tried local healers, and even a doctor, but they can’t help.”

Mother Adlyn’s eyes watched me. I had the uncomfortable feeling that she could read the thoughts I was choosing not to say aloud. She shook her head. “To sleep for so long without meeting death... I fear that’s beyond my ability to heal. If your father has been enchanted, you’ll need a spell from the mages.”

“We have nothing to pay them with,” Brunna mumbled from my other side. “The thieves took everything.”

“Worldly possessions wouldn’t help you,” Mother Adlyn said. “The mages have no need for jewels or money; they’re rich enough already.” She looked squarely at me. “Drink up. You’ll feel better soon.”

I took another sip. My tankard was half-empty. Brunna was sagging against me as though she was too relaxed to even sit straight. Her tankard hung empty from her fingertips.

“There are other things mages might be interested in. Your friend could offer his service. A healthy young man. They always need servants. Sign up for a year and they might help you.”

Hope sparked anew. I nudged Brunna. “I could do that, if you would take the cure back to Pa.”

Mother Adlyn smiled. “It’s only your friend they would take. They only allow male servants inside the mages’ tower.”

Just like that, hope was wiped out. Brunna’s disguise was doing better than I’d hoped if she’d fooled Mother Adlyn, but we couldn’t hope to keep her sex hidden for a year. I shivered. And they threw women off cliffs...

“We’ll consider that. Thank you for your time, and your wisdom, Mother.”

“No need for thanks. Drink up.”

I looked down at the tankard in my hand. “I’m in danger of falling asleep if I stay any longer,” I protested. Brunna had gone silent. I thought she might be asleep.

“Sleep is the best thing for you right now.” Her voice was hypnotic. “It’ll help you heal.”

I lifted the tankard to my lips again and drained the mixture. Mother Adlyn’s eyes remained on me the whole time. She seemed to relax when I’d drunk the dregs.

Brunna let out a snore and her tankard clattered onto the wooden floor. The sudden noise jolted the remains of my addled brains into action. I stared, aghast, at Mother Adlyn’s smiling face. I tried to stand but my limbs wouldn’t co-operate. “Drugged,” I managed, fury coursing through me. To lurch from one stupidity to another was unforgivable.

Mother Adlyn rose and plucked the tankard from my unresisting fingers. She gathered Brunna’s from the floor and paused in front of us. She looked sad, but that was no help. “Sleep will help you gather your strength.” She sighed. “I fear you’ll need it once the mages get their hands on you.”

Dread slid through me, fighting the fatigue dragging at my limbs. Fighting – and losing.

She set a hand on my shoulder. “Sleep. I’m sorry, but there was nothing for it when you landed in my lap like that. You might think the king rules the land, but it’s the mages who wield true power.”