Would avoiding entering Mercia help us? Again, we were all in agreement that the clue had been accidental. She said it had never helped before but was that true?
My sister was going to wake the last dragon. The Dragon Queen was also involved, although I believed that might be the name they used for Kendra. The Blue Woman had also said that, and I believed her on that point. There didn’t seem to be any reason why. The Blue Woman didn’t want the dragon awoken, and that made me more determined to do it. The only problem with that line of thinking was that dragons didn’t exist.
How, when, why, or a hundred other questions needed answers we didn’t have. Hell, we didn’t know the questions, so how could we have the answers?
Elizabeth turned to look at Tater, who was still sleeping soundly. “Is he still under a spell?”
“No, he’s just sleeping,” I said.
Elizabeth said, “Tell me what is most important for me to know in a sentence or two.”
I turned to my sister. She shook her head, refusing to speak, so I plunged ahead, “She said Kendra is the Dragon Queen.”
“That’s an old, old story. What else?” Elizabeth sounded more impatient than angry.
My voice rose, as did I. “No matter how old the story is, that creature who was here said Kendra is going to raise a full-sized dragon to life. That seems to be the central issue with her.”
Elizabeth shrugged, and with a sly smile asked, “Kendra, what do you intend to do with your very own dragon?”
Even Kendra had to smile. The Blue Woman hadn’t actually said she would wake one, but help it break free of its bonds. Why that distinction was so important, I didn’t know, unless Kendra had plans to join with the dragon in a nefarious venture and escape from somewhere. I couldn’t get a mental picture of her wearing black leather, a raised sword in her hand, as she took on vile creatures to save the world while riding on the back of a dragon. No, Kendra was more likely to bake them a cake and discuss the matter until they saw things her way.
I said to Elizabeth, “Maybe you should tell us the old story. I’ve never heard it.”
“The short version is that not all dragons were killed a thousand years ago. Some are hibernating under spells cast by powerful rogue mages who draw on the dragon’s life-power so the mages will live longer and cast more powerful spells. They siphon the life forces off the dragon and use it on themselves and selected friends, a few friendly kings, and fellow mages.”
“They can do that because dragons live a long time,” I said, beginning to understand, if not believe.
“You don’t grow to the size of a mature dragon in a few years. I’ve heard that it takes at least fifty, and even then, they were still considered young,” Elizabeth retorted as if that somehow settled the matter.
Kendra nodded as the implications made themselves known to her. She mused, “What is the most valuable thing in the world? Some might say gold or jewels, others the ability to walk or bear children. A few want greater power. But to some who already have most of those, I can see why living a few hundred years is more valuable than any of those other things.”
Elizabeth said, “The story says it takes mages to keep the dragons alive while under spells, and rogue mages use their abilities to keep those people who are favored by them healthy. They live long and healthy lives.”
I snorted in disbelief. “Tell me what children’s book you read for this story, and I’ll take a peek at it when there is nothing to do.”
“No book,” she said sharply.
“Bedtime story?” I countered.
Hands on her hips, she took an aggressive step in my direction. “No, smart-ass. I’ll tell you when and where it came from. At about six years old, while playing a hiding game with my nurse-maid, I hid behind the curtains in the throne room. I knew better than to play there, but it was a good hiding place, where nobody would look. A royal mage and my father, the king, entered. It scared me to expose myself and get into trouble, so I stood still and listened as the mage told the story. The questions my father asked went on and on, but it was told as fact.”
“You’re saying you believe it?” I almost stammered in disbelief.
She leaned in closer. “And my father believed it. He still does.”
Not to be put aside, I leaned closer to her too, until our noses almost touched. “Are you seriously telling me that you think my sister can somehow wake a dragon from its sleep? If there is such a thing? You’re saying she is a Dragon Queen, whatever that is? You believe that?”
Elizabeth snarled right back at me, “I believe in your magical abilities, and it is not much of a stretch for me to believe Kendra has her own sort of magic. Maybe hers is that she can disrupt the magic of mages? I have no idea, I’m talking as I’m thinking. What if she can break the spell that keeps one dragon comatose?”
Elizabeth was right. Kendra had occasionally disrupted my magic, especially when she didn’t approve of what I was up to. I’d always thought that but had no proof. She didn’t like what my magic could do. My spells sometimes went wrong, even though I’d cast the same spell many times before. But what if she had ruined them?
My small-magic was no more believable than her ability to disturb the spells of others. If all Elizabeth had said was true, and Kendra went to Mercia and messed up a mage’s spell, the dragon might wake. Then what? Would it bond in some manner with Kendra?
Why were wyverns attracted to her? Out loud, I said, “The answers lie in Mercia.”
As if to discourage our journey, the patter of the rain increased until it pounded the barn boards. Rivulets flowed, and water came inside in a hundred places. The wind increased. Elizabeth said, “And those answers will have to wait another day. While we have use of this barn, there is no reason to leave in this weather.”
“I’m right there with you on that,” Tater drawled.
None of us had known he was awake, or when he woke. He may have heard the entire conversation. If my powers were stronger, I might make him forget it all. My poor excuse for magic might be enough to encourage him to forget the last few sentences if that.
Springer was at his side. Tater carried the dog to the ladder, however from what I saw, the dog had healed and was ready to resume his watchdog duties. Elizabeth shrugged and said, “Does it matter what he heard—or thought he heard? He is one of us.”
Kendra said, “It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. Tater is going to support us in whatever we do, and he won’t talk about it.”
Elizabeth said, “I agree with you, but wonder why you feel that way?”
“Did you see how he tended the dog? He knows he can pay his brother for it. That can’t be much. But he gave his word that he would look out for it.”
Their observations were beyond my scope to recognize. What was easy to determine was that they were right. The rain slowed, and the air smelled of freshly baked bread. My stomach growled.
The young farmer called from below, “Anybody hungry?”
The three of us wrestled good-naturedly over who would be the first on the ladder. Kendra shoved me aside as she grabbed the railing—an instant behind Elizabeth. Kendra ducked under her arm and managed to get her body ahead, but from the floor of the loft, I got hold of Kendra’s ankle. She twisted to free herself, and that was all Elizabeth needed to get a foot on the top rung and slip ahead in laughter ringing like bells on a holiday.
The farmer had a pot of endless stew sitting on a workbench, and beside it, six small loaves of bread still steaming. His eyes bulged, his face was red. Refined ladies do not act like he’d witnessed, and they’d ganged up to make sure I was the last to be fed.