The Dragon (Creasan #2)

The next few days passed by in relative peace for Ana. Though she hadn’t exactly grown much closer to the group, they stopped reacting to her with intense scorn, which she counted as positive progression. Last night, Brom had even invited her to eat with them, though their meals had shrunk considerably. It was much less than she was accustomed to eating in the palace, but she would die of starvation before she asked for more.

Now, she looked out at the horizon and spotted rocks. Her heart lifted and she hurried to the base of the crow’s nest, craning her head and shouting up to Peronell, “Have we reached it?”

He shook his head. Confusion colored his words as he responded, “It doesn’t look like land. I think it’s a…cave?”

Maerwynn brushed past Ana on her way to the steering wheel, which Janshai had been manning while she’d taken her lunch break. That was one relationship that had not improved, no matter how much Ana had tried. But if she was being quite honest, she hadn’t tried much. She had heard the pain in Maerwynn’s voice in that first interaction they’d had, and Ana had decided to give her the room she deserved.

Maerwynn spread her hands over the map. They all watched her curiously, waiting for a sign of how they should feel, frightened or relieved. She nodded and looked up. “We are approaching Dúdach Cave.”

Ana’s stomach dropped immediately. She had heard of that cave. And what she knew…

Thea stepped up beside her mother and glanced down at the map. In the time they’d been onboard, Maerwynn had taught her daughter a lot about navigation and steering, though Ana had noticed reading the map continued to pose a bit of a struggle to her. Still, there was some understanding in her eyes as she looked at the paper. “That’s good, isn’t it? That’s a landmark.”

“Yes,” Maerwynn answered.

Fendrel approached the map from Maerwynn’s other side. “What should we know about it? Any horrible beasts we can expect to encounter?”

Ana watched Maerwynn carefully as she glanced to Janshai for an answer. But when he just shrugged, it was clear that neither of them knew what Ana knew. Maerwynn spoke for the both of them. “I don’t know.”

Thea frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I have never read anything on Dúdach Cave,” her mother answered. “I have only ever heard mention of it in passing.”

“Me too,” Janshai agreed. “As far as I know, it is only a landmark by which sailors have tried to orient themselves. But as far as specifics…”

Thea and Fendrel exchanged a look of naive hope. Fendrel said, “That’s a good sign, isn’t it? Surely if there was some sort of Dúdach Serpent, you would have heard more about it.”

Maerwynn bit her lip as she straightened away from the map. “I suppose.”

From where he retied a rope in place, Carac called, “I don’t hear anything suspicious.”

“Okay,” Thea breathed. “Let’s keep going.”

Ana was tempted to keep her mouth shut. After all, she was nowhere near as skilled at sailing as Maerwynn or Janshai, and everything she did know she had learned from books in Favian’s study. Books she had read awhile ago. Her memory could be mistaken. They could easily dismiss her.

But she knew she wasn’t wrong.

So she cleared her throat and ventured, “I have heard of Dúdach Cave.”

All heads whipped in her direction. As she had often done in times of fear, she raised her chin and plunged on like she had every confidence in herself. “Nothing too concrete, but just as the rest of Leitham Sea, there are legends of those who have sailed through.”

“What is it you’ve heard?” Janshai asked.

She licked her lips. “Dúdach Cave is also known as the Cave of Madness.”

Thea threw up her hands. “Of course it is.”

“There are various tales,” she continued, “of ships purposefully being steered into its rocks. Sailors diving headfirst off their ships. Vessels vanishing altogether. The number of dead rumored to have been claimed by the Cave of Madness is in the thousands.”

“What drives them mad?” Brom wondered.

Ana glanced at Maerwynn as she said, “No one knows.”

“Wonderful,” said Thea’s mother. “So it appears we are back to square one.”

“No.” Thea shook her head as she disagreed. “We now know we must be on high alert. Perry,” she called up, “be on the lookout for anything…weird.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” He saluted and then trained his eyes back on the rocks ahead.

“I’ll let Merek know,” said Brom.

“Thank you,” replied Thea. Brom nodded and headed below deck. “I will take first watch tonight, just in case.”

Maerwynn shook her head. “Not alone. I will stay with you.”

She nodded. Then she glanced at Fendrel questioningly. Her face asked, Anything to add?

Ana’s eyes paused on Fendrel when she noticed him stiffen under Thea’s gaze. That was new. She wondered what Thea had said to him to make him react that way. She hoped she hadn’t given away their plan. Although, if she had, Ana wagered Fendrel would have done more than stiffen and glance away.

He cleared his throat and said, “It’ll be dark soon. Brom and I will wrangle the food for supper.”

“Excellent,” said Thea. And she turned back to the map, apparently dismissing him.

Fendrel turned and headed after Brom toward the lower decks, and Ana watched as Thea’s eyes subtly followed him. The queen internally cursed. What had her brother-in-law said to her? Had he tried to charm her? Was she no longer planning to take the crown?

She felt intense frustration and anger fill her. No Lance should be allowed on the throne ever again. Thea had agreed to that. And Ana most certainly would not allow the smooth-talking prince to jeopardize the whole of the kingdom and her livelihood.

She had to speak to Thea right away.

Merek’s eyes felt like they were filled with sand, they were so dry. The longer he sat beside Isolde’s bed, it appeared the less his body felt the need to blink. The only time he allowed his eyes to close was when Janshai came to check on his fiancée. Then Merek made a show of not looking at Isolde, and would even leave the room to offer Janshai some privacy.

But Janshai wasn’t there now, and it would take the Serpent’s return to pry him away from Isolde.

Brom poked his head in the room and explained their venturing into Dúdach Cave. Merek listened but didn’t really hear him as he nodded quickly.

The Guard looked between him and Isolde and offered solemnly, “Whatever happens, you did all you could.”

He glanced at him with furrowed brows. “What does that mean? What do you think will happen?”

“I don’t know. But it didn’t sound all that pleasant, did it?”

Merek breathed a laugh. “No, I suppose it didn’t.” He stared at Isolde’s sleeping form a beat before addressing Brom again. “Do you think she’s in pain?”

Brom considered that a moment, gazing at her and taking in her measured breaths. He finally answered, “She looks all right.”

Merek nodded. She did look all right. He hoped she was all right.

Brom stayed a moment longer, and Merek briefly wondered if he should offer him a seat. But Brom said, “Let me know if you ever need a break.”

“Break?”

“From your vigil.” Brom smiled at him knowingly. “You might love her but you won’t be any good to her if you’re too exhausted to keep her safe.”

Merek chuckled at that. “You know, for a bloke who doesn’t say much, you’re surprisingly insightful.”

Brom grinned. “If I could give one more piece of advice?”

“Please.”

“Talk to Janshai.”

That wasn’t what Merek was expecting. “What? Why?”

“I admit I’m no expert in etiquette, but I believe it is customary for a man who is in love with another man’s betrothed and keeping watch over her to speak with that man. Something to do with respect or some such thing.”

Merek shook his head with a laugh. “Right. Good point.”

Brom gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Brom, we’re on dinner,” came Fendrel’s voice a moment before he was in the doorway as well. He glanced in at Merek and gave him that sad, flat smile one gives when one isn’t sure if smiling is appropriate. “How is she?” the prince asked.

“The same.” Merek’s eyes returned to the sleeping healer. “If it’s all right with you,” he asked, “I’d like to take my supper in here tonight.”

“Of course.” Fendrel put his hands on Brom’s shoulders and steered him in the direction of the kitchen. Just before they left, he said, “She’s going to be okay, Merek.”

He gave him a half-smile, one more of politeness than actual reassurance. “Thanks, mate.”

Then the prince and Guard left, and it was just Merek and Isolde again. He let out a deep sigh and held her hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to her chilled fingers. “Come on, Izzy,” he urged in a whisper.

Thea was grateful for the alone time with her mother. She hadn’t really had any time to speak with her since the voyage began and it was nice to relax in her presence.

Dúdach Cave turned out to be quite a large sea cave. It reminded Thea of a sewer pipe that had been cut out of an enormous boulder, a boulder which did not float on the water but rather reached the ocean floor and sat cemented in place. It was nearly a mountain itself. It would surely have taken them more time to sail around it than to go through.

The opening of the cave stretched a good seventy-five feet wide, giving their ship plenty of room on either side to pass through. The rocks were slick with water and a thick, dark black. The water seemed to reflect off the stones, illuminating their way in an ocean blue. One could almost imagine they were beneath the waves.

Thea sat on the banister in front of the steering wheel and kept her eyes wide open, any thoughts of sleep completely forgotten as she searched for signs of possible sources of madness.

Maerwynn watched her with amusement. “Are you trying to frighten monsters away with your face?”

Thea rolled her eyes. “I’m looking for signs of danger.”

“You know, your brother used to look the same way when he was gearing up for a riot.”

She snapped her eyes in Maerwynn’s direction. Her mother hardly ever spoke about Lief, but now her gaze seemed far away. “I think you got that from your father.”

It was even more rare for her to speak of their father, and Thea tread carefully, lest she ruin this new desire to reminisce. “Will you tell me about Papa?” Thea wondered softly. Most of Thea’s memories of her father weren’t entirely happy ones, and she would love to know him as her mother had.

Maerwynn sighed. “I told you the story of how we first met?”

Thea shook her head.

“I suppose it isn’t anything but…” Maerwynn paused as she focused on steering. Tears started to bud in her eyes as she began, “My mama liked to rise before even the sun, and made me and your aunt do the same. She said early risers got more done. Of course, we despised waking up so early.”

Thea grinned as her mother talked, practically seeing the scene unfold before her.

“Not a single soul in Vuterra woke up as early as us.” Maerwynn laughed and shook her head. “Aestus, it was the worst.”

Thea chuckled.

“Mama asked me to wash and hang the clothes that morning. So there I was, just about your age, sitting out in the freezing cold with my hands in even colder water, trying to get clothes clean that hadn’t been clean in years.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“It was!” Maerwynn blinked tears from her eyes. “And that morning, more than any other morning, I was fuming to be up so early. I could hardly even see the clothes! And then out of nowhere, this—wanker comes flying out of an alley or something, I have no idea where he was, and crashes right into my washing basin.”

Thea gasped, covering her mouth. “Are you serious?”

Maerwynn gestured wildly. “Clothes and water everywhere! And then the fool steps on my favorite dress and slips. Falls right on his arse in front of me.”

“What did you do?”

“I yelled at him, of course. And let me tell you, I had something of a sailor’s mouth back then.”

“Back then?” Thea clarified with a smirk.

Maerwynn slapped her arm. “I do not speak like that anymore.”

Thea held her hands up in surrender, though she was still smiling.

Maerwynn rolled her eyes and continued, “Anyway. He told me there were blokes coming after him. They wanted some trinket or something that they thought he had.”

“So you hid him in your house?”

“No, I fu—bloody did not,” she corrected herself with a wry grin. “I called out to the boys chasing him and told them where to find him.”

“Mama!” Thea giggled and stared at her mother with wide eyes.

“What! He ruined my clothes.” Maerwynn waved her hand at a gnat or some sort of Dúdach insect that swirled around her head. She didn’t feel it land on her, and she certainly didn’t feel it sink its long mouth into her flesh. She continued, “The boys he was running from found us, and they were pretty scary looking lads. I felt bad.”

Thea prodded, “What happened?”

She shrugged and looked out at the stones around them. “I knew a hiding place so I kicked one of the boys in the leg, punched the other in the face, and ran away with your father.”

“I had no idea you and Dad were such troublemakers.”

“Where did you think you and Lief got it?”

Another one of the insects circled Thea, but it was smarter than its companion, and Thea didn’t even recognize its presence before it settled on her shoulder and dug its mouth into her skin, too.

Thea smiled obliviously and wandered to the side of the ship Maerwynn was looking out at. It was nice to hear a story about her father that didn’t include the anger and sorrow he had taken out on Thea and her mother after Lief’s death. “I miss them,” she murmured.

“Me too,” said Maerwynn sadly.

“Sometimes,” Thea said, closing her eyes, “I have dreams about Lief. About his birthday right before he went into the palace.”

She heard Maerwynn chuckle behind her at the memory. “He was so uncomfortable.”

“The whole time, he looked like he was going to be sick.” With her eyes still closed, Thea drew the image of Lief to her mind. That image of him sitting awkwardly in his chair as practically the whole village sang him happy birthday. He had specifically told Thea to keep his party to a small gathering and she had specifically chosen to do the opposite. After the song had finished, he had risen from his chair and wrestled Thea to the ground. She had laughed so hard, her stomach had cramped and her face ached.

Even now, when she thought about it, her lips pulled into a smile almost against her will. And in her dreams, he felt so real. Like if she opened her eyes, she would find him standing beside the table again, his scruffy reddish hair sticking up around his head, his eyebrow with a scar running through it cocked in amusement, his brown eyes gleaming with mischief.

Their father hadn’t been a very easy man to get on with, even before Lief’s death. It was one of the reasons Thea had been so close to her brother. But when she thought back on Lief, it never included fighting with their father. It was always something wonderful, like his birthday, or him playing his flute, or him teaching her how to fight.

She could practically hear his voice reminding her, “Three breaths, Thea. Clear your mind. In…out…”

Even there on the ship, she listened to him and slowed her breathing. Her eyelids drifted open—and then flew wide. Thea staggered backward, her jaw dropping to the floor and her heart breaking into a sprint in her chest.

Lief stood beside her on the deck, smiling wide, that scarred eyebrow raised. “You all right?”

Thea blinked hard several times, but still, Lief stared at her. Her throat went dry. She croaked, “Mama?”

“I see him,” Maerwynn breathed. She approached her son with eyes of wonder.

The sound of the sea echoed off the walls of the cave and the movement of the water reflecting on the rocks gave a mystical feel. Thea shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “This isn’t real,” she muttered.

Lief laughed. “When did you stop trusting your own eyes?”

“You’re not here.”

“Mama, would you tell her to open her eyes?”

Maerwynn drew in a sharp breath at being addressed. “How is this happening?” she whispered.

Thea reached blindly for her mother’s arm, wrapping her fingers in her sleeves. Thea suddenly felt very cold, and tears were building up behind her lids. “He’s not there, Mama.”

But Maerwynn wasn’t really listening. She stretched out her hand and brushed her fingers against Lief’s cheek. The second she made contact with his skin, she gasped loudly. Tears immediately cascaded down her cheeks. “Lief?”

He smiled. “Hi, Mama.”

She choked on a disbelieving laugh. She cupped his cheeks and then pulled him into a hug. “Oh, my Aestus, I missed you so much.” She began crying in earnest, hooking her arms tightly around his neck.

Thea still kept her eyes closed and she shook her head again. “It’s not him, Mama.”

“Yes, it is! I’m holding him.”

Thea swallowed hard and cracked an eye open cautiously. Maerwynn had pulled back from the hug but her hands were still on his shoulder and she was still gazing at him with wide eyes.

It had been eight years since Thea had seen her brother, but he hadn’t aged a day. Not a single new wrinkle around his eyes or a new age spot or a sharpening of features. He looked just the same as he did in her dreams.

Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she’d fallen asleep on the deck and this was all just a dream. Yes, that made much more sense. Thea pinched her arm. Hard. But all she accomplished was a red smudge and a twinge of pain. Lief still stood there.

“Stop hurting yourself,” he said. “It’s me.”

“No, it’s not,” she insisted. “You died. In the palace. We buried you—“

“Actually, you didn’t,” he reminded her. “You buried an empty grave because—according to the king—there was nothing left of me to bury.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “But you didn’t really believe that, did you, sister?”

A tear fell down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly. “Then where have you been? If you were alive this whole time, where were you?”

“I…” Lief glanced around like he feared someone was listening. Then he whispered, “Someone in the palace—I don’t know if he was a Guard or just a servant—he kept me alive. He helped me escape.”

“Thank Aestus,” Maerwynn breathed.

“Why?” Thea said, narrowing her eyes at Lief. Her vision had begun to blur along the edges and her tongue felt much too large in her mouth. Everything slowed, and the gentle rocking of the ship felt as if it was coaxing her to sleep. But she forced her mind to make sense of what she was seeing. “Why would someone do that for you? And that doesn’t explain how you found us?”

“I snuck onto the ship.” Lief’s voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Thea had to focus very hard to keep up with the conversation. “There’s a group that lives in this cave,” he was saying. “They are going to help us. But you have to come with me.”

Maerwynn didn’t even hesitate to put her hand in his. “Who are these people?”

“Rebels, like us.” Lief held his hand out to Thea. “Come with me.”

Thea blinked slowly. Her breathing echoed in her ears and it felt as if the strength was being sapped from her. She slurred, “We can’t just leave the ship. Someone has to steer…”

“The ship will be fine. Trust me, Thea.” He smiled, that smile that Thea had missed so much, and without even thinking, as if she was in a trance, she slid her hand into his.

Fendrel stared up at the wood-slatted ceiling, his mind refusing to let him sleep. The ship meandered gently through the sea and it should have been calming. But Fendrel was consumed with thoughts of Thea.

She had been nicer to him in the crow’s nest than she’d ever been to him since he’d met her. She had been surprisingly receptive to his proposal of an alliance between them, and she had continuously allowed him to take the lead on the ship. She was doing everything he had wanted. So why didn’t it feel right?

Probably precisely because she was doing everything he wanted. Thea Wyvern didn’t listen to anyone. She’d nearly gotten into a fight with an ogre because of her inability to stand down. Yet she seemed to have handed over her control seamlessly.

Perhaps she had a plan, too. Perhaps this whole time she had been playing Fendrel for a fool, allowing him to think he was in control when she was the one pulling the strings.

Fendrel groaned and ran his hands down his face. Is this what it was to be king? Full of paranoia and distrust? No wonder his brother had gone mad.

Which, of course, brought the prince to thoughts of his own eventual madness. One day, he’d be struck with the family affliction as well and he’d slowly spiral into insanity. Fendrel had nearly three decades before that happened, but it still plagued him with fear and foreboding.

He sighed and sat up, glancing across the space at Brom whom with he was sharing a room. The Guard slept easily and Fendrel felt a bit of sadness weigh his shoulders down. Unless it was in view of everyone, Brom had hardly spoken to him. The prince had decided to play dumb and plunge on as if everything was all right, but he knew the proposition he had forced Brom to accept must have been on the Guard’s mind constantly.

The room suddenly felt stuffy and claustrophobic. With his hands on the walls to keep balance, Fendrel lumbered down the hallway, peaking into each open-doored room as he did.

Ana had a room to herself, of course. She tossed and turned uncomfortably. Carac and Peronell slept in another room, Peronell’s arm slung over Carac’s waist. He glanced up at Fendrel as he passed by, his brows furrowing. Peronell whispered, “Is everything all right?”

“Fine,” Fendrel answered. “Just getting some air.”

He nodded and laid back down. Fendrel moved on.

Merek slept as restlessly as the queen in the room beside them. Janshai must have decided to stay the night with Isolde, and it was like Merek’s subconscious knew he wasn’t with her. His face was twisted in pain, and his head moved back and forth.

Fendrel frowned in sympathy and then ascended the steps to the top deck.

The door let him out beside the steering wheel, and Fendrel paused when he found no one manning the wheel. Luckily, it looked like the ship was managing to sail in a straight line through the cave but it was…strange.

Trepidation slowly flowed into his bloodstream. He cursed himself for leaving his sword in his room. He took a quick glance around the space, but there was nothing he could fashion into a weapon. It didn’t really matter because he raised his head and felt his stomach drop.

Thea stood on top of the banister, her clothes flowing around her in the calm breeze. She swayed unsteadily on the edge and her hand was raised out, as if she were reaching for someone. And there was no sign of Maerwynn.

“Thea,” Fendrel shouted, approaching her slowly, “what are you doing?”

She didn’t appear to even hear him. She lifted her foot and made as if to step off the ship. Fendrel’s eyes widened as she leaned forward…

“Thea!” He bolted across the deck and grabbed hold of the back of her shirt before she could jump.

She didn’t come down from the banister, but she put her foot back down to stop from falling. She still reached forward, her lids low. She looked drugged.

“Thea,” Fendrel said, using both hands now to hold her back, “are you mad? What are you doing?”

“He says it’s all right,” she murmured drunkenly, swaying forward again.

“What? Who? Who are you talking about?”

“He’s alive. He’s going to help us.” She reached more insistently in front of her.

Fendrel stilled. His gaze followed hers, but the air in front of her was empty. “Thea,” he said slowly, “where is your mother?”

“With him.”

“Are you…you’re not talking about your brother?”

A lazy smile stretched Thea’s lips and tears spilled out of her as she nodded. “He’s right there. And he wants me to go with him.”

Fendrel shook his head with confusion and bewilderment. “Thea, Lief is dead.”

She didn’t bother to respond. Her head cocked to the side and she stepped forward.

The cloth tore in Fendrel’s hands and Thea plummeted. Fendrel screamed, “No!” He lurched over the side of the banister and just barely managed to catch her wrist.

Thea’s momentum slammed her into the side of the ship. But her dazed smile never faltered. She continued to look out ahead, stretching out her hand.

Fendrel grunted with the effort to keep his hold, and then he frowned as he glanced down at where his fingers wrapped around her. Her skin felt ice cold and looked nearly translucent; he could see the veins in her face. “What happened to you?” he whispered.

“Let me go.” She started to buck against him.

Fendrel gritted his teeth and gripped her harder. She fought him hard as he used every bit of strength to reel her back onto the boat. By the time he got her back to the banister, it seemed all the fight had drained from her and she became dead weight.

The prince wrapped his arms around her waist and heaved her back onto the deck. But Thea didn’t stand like Fendrel assumed she would and they both fell, Fendrel landing hard on the wood with Thea on top of him, her back to his front.

The air was punched out of him and he lied on the floor for a moment, breathing hard. When he glanced up, he came face-to-face with a huge insect on Thea’s neck. He jerked back in disgust and instinctively pushed Thea away.

She fell limply to the side. Her eyes were closed and her breathing stuttered in her chest.

Fendrel got to his hands and knees and crawled to her. He pushed her hair out of the way and found the bug still at her neck. It looked like a boil on her skin, inflating wider and wider with each second. Its mouth was buried deep in her flesh, and Fendrel realized the redness of its body was Thea’s blood.

It was sucking her dry.

With a grimace, Fendrel used his pointer finger and thumb to pinch the insect and pulled hard. It didn’t budge. But its body continued to move as it drank more.

Fendrel shook Thea’s shoulder. “Thea? Can you hear me?”

She didn’t respond. His eyes widened when he saw how white her lips had become.

“Shit.” Fendrel pushed her forward again and tried to pull the bug off again. It had gotten even bigger, and its stomach squished in Fendrel’s fingers. But there was no way he was getting it off of her.

He rolled her onto her back and searched her pockets. Surely, she would have—

Got it! Fendrel pulled a dagger from her waistband victoriously. Then he rolled her over again and slashed through the insect’s stomach.

Blood burst from it like puss from a pimple and it fell dead to the floor.

Fendrel quickly laid her on her back again and stared down anxiously at her face. But her eyes didn’t open. He wished Isolde was there. She would know what to do, how to save her. Fendrel was useless. He tapped her cheek lightly. “Thea? Thea, wake up.”

But nothing happened.

He put his finger to her jaw and felt for a pulse. After a tense moment, he felt it. Weak, but there. He breathed a sigh of relief.

He patted her cheek again and then rested his hand there. She was cold. Freezing. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, buttoning it to her chin. Then he bundled her up and held her tightly to his chest, rubbing his hands up and down her arms as quickly as possible. “Come on, Thea. Wake up, wake up!”

As if she’d heard him, her lids drifted open.

Fendrel nearly laughed with relief and hugged her tighter to him. He breathed, “Oh, thank Aestus.”

“What happened?” she croaked.

“You were bit by…some bug. It made you hallucinate.”

She frowned in confusion for a moment, and then her forehead smoothed with remembrance. She closed her eyes with pain, and Fendrel knew she was thinking of her brother. Then her eyes opened again and she glanced around them. “Where’s my mother?”

“I don’t know.”

She struggled to get out of his grip, and he had utterly forgot he was holding her. He released her quickly. Her arms shook violently as they tried to push her up. “We have to find her.”

He put a hand to her shoulder and forced her to sit back down. “No, you’ve lost a lot of blo—”

She grabbed his hand and looked him dead in the eye. “She jumped.”