Chapter 22 #2
“There are whispers of a plague creeping along the border towns,” Gunther said. “Apparently, people are becoming quite ill.”
“What kind of plague?” I asked. “What are the symptoms?”
“The kingsguard were tight-lipped about that.”
“Is it fatal?” Seraphine asked.
“I don’t know,” Gunther said. “It was mainly just whispers, and you know how whispers shift from person to person. But there’s talk of magic being involved.”
A chill dripped down my spine, the hairs on my body standing straight. Talani hissed.
“Something cursed,” Gunther continued. “Something we’ve never seen in these parts before.”
“It’s traveled across,” Nisse said. “From another land?”
“If the rumors are true,” Gunther mused. “All I know is that the soldiers seemed… afraid.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Frowned down at the table. Was this the reason the king was so set on hunting down the Wretch? Was he filling out his army because word of a magical illness had reached his ears?
“It could be nothing,” Gunther said.
“They don’t send in the kingsguard for nothing,” I murmured. “They don’t invest that many resources for whispers.”
Silence ate through the group.
“We’re a long way from the border,” Talani said. “Do you suppose we’re safe here?”
“We don’t even know what it is we’re dealing with,” Matty said. “What to look for.”
Gunther nodded. “For now, we’re fine. I have contacts closer to the border. I’ll send some letters out. But until I hear otherwise, nothing has changed.” He managed a small smile. “Our focus, as always, is keeping the town safe during the migration.”
We all nodded, but it didn’t shift the feeling of unease.
Poppy burst through the front door of the infirmary, pine needles scattering. “Nisse! Everyone! Come quickly!”
“What is it, child?” Gunther asked.
“The Wretch!” she cried, her arm stretched out in the direction of the square. She’d gone as white as linen, her pale pink lips trembling. “They found it!”
* * *
A terrible rumble echoed across the cobblestones and up my legs, making my knees shake as we tore down the path to the square. It felt like it was coming from some deep chasm beneath the ground. Like an old god had been awoken from slumber, determined to crawl up through the earth to freedom.
Talani stumbled, crashing into me as we ran. “Sorry,” she muttered.
I righted her and pressed on, only slowing when we found the way blocked by townsfolk. Some wore looks of bright curiosity, others wide-eyed, drawing back in fear.
“Let me through!” Gunther called, commanding a measure of respect. “I must pass!”
The townsfolk parted for him, creating a narrow lane, and we surged after him. As we drew toward the front of the crowd, that’s when the iron cage came into view, thick bars stretching into the sky, metal wheels squeaking as it lumbered over cobbles.
It was dragged toward the square by five massive draught horses, each one more muscled than the last. And inside, wrapped in chains and pinned to the bed of the cage, lay the Wretch.
I gaped at it in awe.
It was even more massive than I could have imagined, teardrop scales glinting like black pearls.
A muzzle as tall as Matty had been fitted over its mouth to hold the fire at bay.
Each of its four legs ended in claws the size of scythes.
A pair of leathery wings had been bound along its back to prevent the beast from taking flight.
My eyes lingered on the pair of curved horns that jutted off from its hooded brow.
One of those could have easily impaled a group of soldiers five men deep.
Down its back were parallel columns of sharp ridges that stood like sword tips.
Even its tail looked like something out of a nightmare, forked at the end, each side covered in barbs.
This was a creature that had the potential to raze entire cities to the ground, and they’d brought it into tiny Ember Ridge.
“How did they even get it in there?” Nisse whispered, her lips curling back in horror.
Reo raised his hand, pointing to a smaller cart drawn by two of the black steeds that had first marched into town all those weeks ago. It was filled with injured soldiers, each one of them bandaged and bruised. “Not without sacrifice,” he said.
A sick feeling roiled in my gut at the sight. Regardless of what whispers the king had heard, I’d never hated the man more for the lives he’d put at risk. There was movement to my left, and I spotted Vaela surging through the crowd, a look of panic in her eyes.
Her brother. Of course!
She wanted to know if he was one of the injured on that cart. Bile climbed my throat as I went after her.
“Vaela!” I shouted, forcing my way between bony shoulders. I latched onto her hand, yanking her back.
She turned to me, looking frenzied. “I have to know!”
“He’s there,” I said, pointing Trystan out among the arrivals, spotting his blond hair poking out from beneath one of the helmets. “He’s okay.” I rubbed circles into her palm, calling her back from her panic.
Her chest heaved at my words, looking to see for herself. “He made it?”
She sounded on the verge of tears.
“He survived,” I whispered, squeezing her hand once more. Then I released her before it could all mean too much.
“Behold!” one of the soldiers declared to the townsfolk. “The mighty Wretch! The fiercest of all the dragons in the land. Soon to be the dragon of your king.”
Murmurs whipped through the crowd. A child darted out for a better look at the beast only to be dragged back by his father.
“I didn’t think they’d actually manage it,” Vaela said, almost to herself. “I told my brother a dragon like that wasn’t meant to be ridden. Not even by the king.”
“They can’t really think keeping the Wretch this close to town is safe?” I said. “You can’t.”
Another of those deep rumbles shook the ground. Was that just from it breathing?
I stared between the bars, watching as the Wretch curled its lips back, sharp teeth visible behind the muzzle. Each was as long as Vaela herself.
A soldier drew too near, and the Wretch slammed its head into the bars. The metal groaned, growing disfigured against the pressure.
The crowd gasped, surging back as a group.
It wasn’t enough to snap the bars, but clearly the Wretch wasn’t as contained as the kingsguard would have us believe. It was like trying to hold water in your hands for any length of time. No matter how tightly you pressed your fingers together, it always managed to slip free… eventually.
“I’ll talk to my brother,” Vaela said, touching my arm to get my attention. Heat prickled beneath my skin. “I will keep you safe.”
“I’m not worried about me,” I said. Which was mostly true.
I worried about the children who stared at the dragon with curious eyes, thinking this was nothing more than another fascinating festival decoration.
And I worried for the shopkeepers whose livelihoods were inside buildings with thatch roofs.
I even worried for Vaela, who seemed so tiny and vulnerable set against the backdrop of the largest dragon known to this land. There would be no tending the kind of burns the Wretch might cause. There would be nothing left.