Jade Page 11

  “I told you he wasn't obedient.”

  “But--how could he--I didn't hear a thing!”

  “He's rather stealthy when he wants to be. Can you walk? Do you need help? I'd like to get you back to the tower and fix the stitches on your leg before you stain my robe too badly.”

  He made his way unsteadily to his feet, relying more than he cared to admit on the steady arm of his host as he did. The pair then made their way slowly back to the tower, Halfax following ominously behind.

  #

  “Here, drink this, it will help with the pain,” Jade said when they reached her home.

  “That is not necessary,” he assured her.

  “It isn't necessary because the one I poured down your throat while you were unconscious hasn't quite worn off yet. It will soon, and I'm about to run this through your leg a few times,” she said, holding up a needle.

  With what little dignity he could salvage, the prince took the cup and drained its contents. Almost as soon as the last drop was swallowed, the pain from his many wounds faded to little more than a dull ache. When she went to work with her needle, he was aware of it as a distant prickling sensation.

  “Your magical skill is remarkable, sorceress,” the prince said, “I am glad to know that your talents can be used for good as well as evil.”

  Jade stopped and narrowed her eyes at him briefly before resuming her task.

  “First, I haven't cast any spells on you, and I don't intend to,” she said as she worked. “That is a potion, so I wouldn't be a sorceress, I'd be an alchemist. Second, I've only cast perhaps five spells in my life. I would hardly call that a mastery of sorcery.”

  “But you control the dragon! Do not dare suggest that you trained this beast to behave as it does.”

  “Well, you're right about the training. The only things I ever taught him were how to cook and how to tend a garden. Most of the training went in the other direction.”

  “I don't understand.”

  “He raised me, Terry. Right here in this very tower, ever since I was six years old. Which reminds me. If you really thought he and I were so dangerous, why did you wait until three years ago to put a stop to all of the hunting?”

  “Do not try to fool me. It was three years ago that you came to this place. Hundreds of my people witnessed you soaring overhead on the back of your beast, and you brought with you a storm impossibly brief and impossibly potent.”

  “Listen, I am telling you, I have lived here for twelve years! You can ask the people of Rook, they know me there. And besides, the last storm was--oh. Oh, I understand.”

  “What?”

  “You'll see in a bit. Feet!” she said, sitting in a chair before him and patting her lap.

  He automatically raised his feet and put them on her lap. It wasn't until she was halfway through unlacing his boots that he paused to question why she had asked for his feet--or, for that matter, why he had given them. It was something in the way she spoke, the way she seemed to assume she would have cooperation when she asked for it. Or perhaps it was the way she seemed to be so comfortable, so at ease in what she was doing. One simply felt obliged to obey. Terrilius told himself that it must be magic, but somehow it felt . . . natural.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You were running around in a frozen forest with your bare feet while under the effects of a pain-dulling potion. Between frostbite and jagged ice, I would like to make sure you still have all of your toes,” she explained.

  His feet were indeed a sorry sight, but a few dabs of medicine and a few bandages set them right again.

  “Good, now get dressed. I'll show you what you came here to find,” Jade said, handing to the still robe-clad prince the stained clothing he had been wearing beneath his armor.

  “I--you--well, turn around, please,” the prince replied.

  With a grin, Jade turned until the prince was finished.

  “All done? Follow me, and walk gently. I'm not sewing that leg up again.”

  Jade walked with the prince in tow for several minutes. There were a dozen things that should have been occupying the mind of the young nobleman. He should have been thinking about what she was bringing him to see, or perhaps what other things she might have done to him in the course of healing him.

  Terrilius's mind, though, was firmly and unshakably focused on the woman before him. She was gorgeous, certainly, but there was no shortage of beauty in the castle. Likewise she was intelligent, and indeed there was not nearly enough of that. To the prince, the most impressive facet of Jade was her attitude. She had an honesty and confidence that he simply had never encountered before. The other nobles, the servants, the diplomats . . . they all behaved the same way. They spoke to the title, not to the man. A veneer of respect over a sea of contempt was the attitude he had come to expect from others. This woman, regardless of everything else, spoke to him as an individual. He wasn't Prince Terrilius. He was Terry. It was unsettling, disorienting, and fascinating.

  They approached a clearing that resembled the remains of a dismantled lumber camp. The jagged, half-rotten stumps of trees that looked like they had been snapped off jutted from the ground. A mound of snow-covered rubble lay at one end of the clearing. For the most part, the place was dominated by a shallow black crater of charred earth. The air carried a vague but stinging odor, like burnt flesh and strong acid. There was a different quality to the cold as well. Something about it cut deeper here, creeping its icy fingers up the spine and into the mind.

  “This is where it happened. Three years ago. A woman came. I don't know where she came from or what sent her, but she was certainly a sorceress. It must have been she who your people had seen,” Jade said, with a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold, “That was a terrible day. I remember it so well. It was all Halfax could do to defeat her, and it almost cost him his life. That's what gave him the scar. That's what ruined his wings.”

  Terrilius looked into the crater as she continued.

  “Three years . . . and snow still refuses to fall where she died. She rode in on this . . . thing,” the young woman continued, walking over to the pile of rubble and brushing aside enough snow to reveal a skull-like head. “Halfax calls it a dragoyle. Nasty thing, but not nearly as nasty as her.”

  The prince looked over the decayed creature. The thought crossed his mind that she could be lying, but . . . the evil in this place was unmistakable. It hung in the air, pressing in on the mind like an oppressive heat. He didn't feel so much as a hint of the same from Jade. If this was what remained of a true evil sorceress, and it could be nothing else, then the woman beside him was nothing of the sort.

  “If you came to defeat her, your job was done for you long ago.”

  “So it would seem . . .”

  “You honestly came here hoping to defeat those two just to prove yourself worthy for the throne?”

  “I did, and to restore the use of the forest to my people. Now it isn't to be.”

  “Well, the woods are yours. Ravenwood is massive. I didn't run into any hunters or the like in the years prior to your father's denial of access. I see no reason why anything would change.”

  “That is a blessing for my people, but it will do nothing for my standing among my peers,” Terrilius said woefully.

  Jade looked to the prince's down-turned mouth. He didn't seem angry or disappointed. Not once had he even lashed out about Halfax attacking him. There was nothing in his expression but regret and failure. He wanted glory, but not for any of the reasons that men normally sought it. To him it was a currency, a means to achieve what he felt he must.

  “I am sorry to have disturbed you in this place. And I am sorry to have accused you. I will leave you to your tower, and I thank you on behalf of my kingdom for your aid.”

  “You aren't going anywhere just yet,” Jade replied.

  “I don't understand. I feel well enough.”

  “Again, only so long as the painkiller lasts, and I'm afraid you won't be getting ano
ther. It helps during treatment, but it slows the healing. When it wears off, I've got to administer something to speed the healing or I guarantee that one of those open wounds is going to take a turn for the worse, and in your state I doubt you'd survive it. In a few hours, you are going to become keenly aware of how many of your ribs Halfax managed to break, and how close he came to doing the same to your right arm.”

  “I must return to the castle.”

  “You will, but even with the help of healing potions, it is going to be at least another day before I feel you are ready to be bopping along on the back of a horse without rattling your bones apart again,” she said.

  “Men will come looking for me.”

  “Good. It will save us the trouble of tracking down your horse. Come on, back to the tower,” she said, placing a hand upon his shoulder.

  The short journey back to the tower was a quiet one. Terrilius had a look of despair that tugged at Jade's heart.

  “Look, for three years everyone took it for granted that there was an evil sorceress in the forest. No one, not even the others vying for the crown, tried to confront her until you did. That has to be worth something,” she offered.

  “Spare me your sympathy, Miss Jade. I appreciate the kindness, but it simply isn't necessary. Is there anything I can do to aid my recovery?”

  “As little as possible. When we get back to the tower, you should just lie down and rest. The treatments are going to be taxing your body's resources fairly heavily, and you'll be feeling it soon. You are in for a rough few days.”

  When they reached the tower once more, she laid him down on the cot and began issuing orders.

  “Sleep if you can. There's broth in the pot and a bowl on the table. Eat if you're hungry. In fact, eat even if you aren't hungry. Healing up those breaks and tears in days instead of weeks is going to take every drop of raw material you can muster, so try to keep your belly full. I'll be tending to the garden and some other chores. Yell if you need me . . . and don't touch anything.”

  Terrilius lay upon the cot and gazed out the window at the snowy forest. As thoughts of failure and sorrow swirled in his mind, he squinted at the shadows between the trees. Just visible was the form of Halfax. Watching. With that chilling reality sitting heavily among the churning thoughts, he tried to get to sleep.

  #

  It was hours before Jade offered more than a glimpse indoors to check on her patient. She was unaccustomed to company, and thus left something to be desired as a hostess. The sun was setting when she was through for the day. Her first stop was the pot of broth. Nearly empty.

  “At least he follows orders,” she muttered to herself.

  She turned to the cot. He was lying where she had left him, but one look was all it took to know that sleep was not in his future. Sweat dripped from his forehead and drenched his clothes. His fists were clenched so tight they trembled, and his face bore a look of iron-hard concentration. The pain had returned, and it was clearly all he could do to bear it. She placed a hand upon his forehead. It was burning again. This was to be expected. His injuries had been severe, and while the things she had learned allowed her to work wonders, those wonders came at a cost.

  “I'd like to tell you the worst is over, but . . . there is more on the way. Much more. Try to imagine it as all of the pain and suffering you would have felt over the normal healing process, but compressed into just a few hours. It is going to be an ordeal.”

  His only reply was the quick, short hiss of his breathing.

  “Listen, you need to try to focus on something else. If you don't distract yourself, it will seem a thousand times worse.”

  He turned his bloodshot eyes to her before shutting them again.

  “Here,” she said, taking his hand and holding it tightly, “I'm right here. Talk to me. Was it worth it? Knowing how you feel now, and knowing that the sorceress and her beast would have left you in an even worse state, do you still feel like you needed to do this?”

  “Yes, it was worth it! Even to try!” he growled through the pain.

  “Really? Why?”

  “Because a king needs to be more than a general! A king needs to care about more than borders. He . . . he sees Tressor and . . . they have an army. A massive one. They are not threatening, not moving, but . . . he sees an army, and he thinks the only way he can be safe is to have a bigger one. But we can't! We don't have the population for that! They will always have a bigger army. And when we begin massing troops, Kenvard and Ulvard start building up troops. It is dangerous! Unnecessary! There are better ways!”

  His words were wild, passionate. They flew forth, propelled by pain and frustration and by the pressure of being held back for so long. Once spoken, though, the intensity quickly began to drain from his eyes and his mind began to wrap itself tightly about the pain again.

  “Keep going. You have a better way? You would do it differently if you were king?”

  “I . . . I . . . of course!” he said, grasping her hand in his. “Kingdoms don't go to war for no reason. They need things! Tressor has plenty of food, but barely any mines and very few forests. Vulcrest straddles the Rachis Mountains. We . . . everything you pull out of a mountain, we have to spare! But we have so little farmland.”

  “And?”

  “We should give them copper, iron, coal. In return . . . they give us grain. Now . . . we need them. They need us. We don't need to try to match their army, because they can't afford to attack us and lose the trade!”

  “That's . . . that's brilliant. Keep going! What else?”

  For hours, through the worst of the pain, Terrilius spoke of the woes of his land and the solutions he envisioned. Some were flawed, others were inspired. Many were sweeping, revolutionary changes. They surely would require the full power of the throne to apply--but, in light of the troubles he described, they seemed nothing short of necessary. Widespread hunger, devastating disease outbreaks . . . all manner of problems plagued his people.

  Jade had lived in this paradise for so long, and with her skills had helped to ease the suffering of the town of Rook so much, that she had forgotten the sorry state of the world that she had left behind. She'd managed to convince herself that things could not be as bad as she remembered. But to hear him speak of it, they were far worse.

  Finally the pain crested and began to recede. Jade sat beside him and continued to hold his hand for more than an hour after exhaustion finally claimed him. He spoke with such dedication, such drive. It was unlike anyone she'd met, except perhaps Halfax. There was a spirit, a life to him when he spoke of those things he truly cared about. It made her care, too. For the first time since had she begged Halfax to take her to this place, Jade cared about the world outside of the niche she'd carved for herself. She wished he was awake again, so that he could hear him speak more of his kingdom and beyond . . . or simply just to hear him speak . . .

  Throughout the night, Halfax had watched. Just because the boy was of a protected bloodline did not mean that the dragon trusted him. The prince had been planning to kill her, after all. His change of heart upon learning the truth could be an act. It was for this reason, the beast told himself, that he must watch. Deep inside though, far closer to his heart than he would ever allow himself to admit, there was another reason. He'd watched many generations of humans from afar. He knew the signs, the patterns. The way that she was looking at him, and he at her even through the pain, was familiar. He had seen many families begin with the same look. It was something that had been a long time coming. Something well past due. It was a sign that Jade would soon be ready to return to her own kind, to live the life that she deserved. It should have been what he was waiting for, what he wanted . . .

  But he didn't want it now. Not now. In his heart, he wasn't ready.

  For a dragon, everything is fleeting. Decades of memories blur together in the same way that days blur into each other for humans. Anything that takes less than a hundred years may as well be a blink of the eye. These twelve years . . .
twelve short years . . . He never would have chosen this life for himself. He'd resisted it, planned constantly for the time when it would mercifully come to an end. But it had become comfortable. He had felt things he had never expected. Pride at watching her grow and learn. Fulfillment in teaching and protecting her. Happiness . . .

  He dug his claws deeper into the ground. No. This was right. This was good. She would move on, as she should have years ago. It was as it should be. The rest didn't matter.

  #

  Terrilius woke the next afternoon to a ravenous hunger, a dull ache over his entire body, and the desire to sleep for another day. In a chair beside the cot was Jade. She was fast asleep, a book open upon her chest. He rose from the cot slowly, every joint in his body clicking and popping from lack of use. He managed to make it to his feet, but dizziness forced him to the cot again. Beside him was a pitcher of cool water and some coarse bread and dry meat. Hardly the courtly breakfast he was accustomed to, but at the moment his stomach assured him that it would do. He was stuffing his mouth in a distinctly unregal manner when his host awoke.

  “Oh, oh, you're awake,” she said, the residue of sleep slurring her words somewhat.

  She closed the book and placed it on the table before standing and leaning over him. Rather than interrupting him, or even asking him, she began to test this part of his body and that, nodding thoughtfully as she did. A poke at the ribs, a squeeze at a shoulder and knee, and various gentle tests later, she spoke.

  “No more bleeding, that's good. Still a bit swollen. Still a bit bruised. The breaks are almost finished knitting. That rapid healing treatment is really something, isn't it? How do you feel?” she asked. "Besides hungry."

  “Tired. And sore.”

  “Your fingers look to be working just fine. I was a bit worried about your jaw, but if you can chew that stuff, you're fine. Move your feet a bit, would you? Yes. Yes, it looks like the potions did their work. A few aches when the weather is bad will be your only reminder of this little adventure.”