Chapter 71
Maylie
DEAFENING SCREECHES SOUNDED from above, bloody, horrifying roars that ripped through the night and echoed across the mountainsides.
Just moments ago, Maylie had almost been trampled by a riderless horse, charging wildly through the undergrowth.
She had dragged the shaking animal to a halt and tethered it to a tree before tracing its trampled path to the foot of this ridge.
She threw her head back now, her frantic heartbeat drumming against her chest, and squinted into the gloom above just as a blast of searing red fire shot into the sky.
She whirled around to face the hamadryad behind her. I am too late! she cried.
The creature shuffled its thin, root-coiled feet. That is not one of the true dragons, it replied.
Maylie hissed in exasperation. She did not have time for the creature’s riddled speech. What do you mean?
It was one of the sacrificed. And it has been defeated.
From above came a rumble as though something large had fallen.
The dragon has been defeated? Maylie clung to this chink of hope.
The creature gave a small dip of its sharp, wooded chin, almost like a nod. Princess Tiannie has been freed, it replied. She has roamed these mountains, trapped, for three hundred winters, becoming more beast with each season. Finally, she is at peace.
Maylie shook her head, barely able to understand. Princess Tiannie became a dragon?
The hamadryad did not reply; its dark, wet eyes watched her closely.
Maylie asked another question, even though she knew it would not be answered. The maidens sent to the Great Dragon do not die? Then a shocking, choking realization almost toppled her to her knees.
‘Esmelie …’ she whispered aloud in her own tongue.
From above came a human cry that Maylie could not ignore.
She turned and began clambering up the ridge, scrambling over rocks, palms scraping against stones.
Jaw clenched, she thrust and heaved herself up, finally tumbling over the lip of the ridge to see a dying woman sprawled naked on the ground.
Maylie staggered upright just as the woman vanished, her body crumbling to nothing, fading with the last curls of smoke into the night’s sky. She was there; then she was gone.
‘Princess Tiannie?’ Maylie murmured.
The hamadryad had told her the truth.
Two other figures standing before the black, blood-stained ground turned at her voice.
The taller one had dark, cropped hair and wiry limbs knotted with muscle.
She looked like some kind of warrior or knight, and she glared at Maylie suspiciously, bending to snatch up the sword at her feet, before faltering with a groan, her wounded leg collapsing beneath her.
‘Alinore, stop!’ cried the other figure.
Maylie turned her attention to the bare-footed, black-haired maiden.
She realized with a jolt of shock that it must be the Princess.
Her child. It was the baby she had once held in her arms, now a young woman of eighteen winters.
She was here. She was real. And she was beautiful, but unexpectedly so.
If Maylie had ever allowed herself to imagine her daughter, she had envisioned a curly-haired, dark-eyed girl, much like herself.
The smooth, midnight-black locks and amber gaze of the Princess were surprising.
Maylie might even have thought that the woman before her was someone else, but there was a shadow of familiarity in the point of the Princess’s chin and the thin arch of her brow.
And more than that, Maylie knew it instinctively – this was her daughter.
‘Who are you?’ snapped the one called Alinore, glaring at Maylie. ‘What’re you doing here?’
Maylie forced herself to take a long, deep breath. ‘I was led to you,’ she replied. ‘I came to try and stop this.’
Alinore grimaced and clutched at her leg, leaning on the Princess for support. ‘What do you mean? Who led you?’
The hamadryad had not followed Maylie on to the ridge. She could sense it lingering in the shadows below, listening.
‘I saw a saddled horse running by without a rider so I stopped it and followed its trail here,’ she replied. ‘I heard the dragon attacking as I climbed the ridge and I thought perhaps I were too late, but you defeated it. Both of you.’
The Princess and Alinore glanced at one another.
‘You’re hurt,’ added Maylie. ‘You need those wounds tending to.’ She moved closer, never taking her eyes off the Princess, drinking in every detail.
‘And you need help too, Your Highness,’ she murmured, fingers fumbling to unclasp her cloak.
‘You must be cold.’ She draped the woollen material over the Princess’s shoulders, flinching when the back of her hand brushed the Princess’s neck.
She was real.
‘Thank you,’ replied the Princess, but her attention was focused on her friend and her gaze skimmed over Maylie.
‘That was Princess Tiannie, wasn’t it?’ said Alinore, her voice shaking. ‘Princess Tiannie – she – she was the dragon?’
Maylie nodded.
Alinore’s jaw clenched and she pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. ‘The dragon attacked us, and I …’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I … killed it. Her. I killed her.’
‘No, you freed her,’ replied Maylie, echoing the words of the hamadryad. ‘After three hundred winters she were more beast than human. She didn’t know herself any more.’
Alinore took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘How can you be sure?’ she asked.
‘Someone told me.’ Maylie glanced behind her at the shadowy edge of the ridge. ‘Someone I trust.’
The Princess’s back stiffened and she turned to look properly at Maylie for the first time, amber eyes narrowed.
‘I don’t understand,’ murmured Alinore.
‘I’ll explain it later,’ replied Maylie, frowning at Alinore’s injuries. ‘You need the wound on your leg sorting. ’Tis a deep cut. I can find you something for the pain, and the burns. You must be hurting.’
Alinore blinked. ‘Who are you?’
There was a pause.
Maylie gathered herself, pressing a hand to her chest as if to still the thud of her heart.
She had come so far, racing through the evening, driven by desperation.
And now that she stood face to face with the truth she had carried for so long, her mind was blank.
She had been so intent on getting here that she had not thought what she would say or how she would explain it all.
‘My name is Maylie,’ she began slowly. ‘I’m … ’ She glanced at the Princess. ‘I’m—’
A sudden roar interrupted her, ripping through the night.
All three women jumped as the air seemed to bend around them.
A huge, dark shape burst from the sky above, wings stretched wide, blocking the moon and scattering starlight. Talons gleamed as the creature plummeted towards them with terrifying speed.
Maylie’s heart lurched. She knew who this was.
She scrambled to her feet and raced forward as the creature descended.
It landed hard on the ridge with a thunderous crash that sent tremors through the earth.
Its claws gouged deep into the rocky slope, hurling stones, and a blast of wind, thick with soot and ash, fanned out from its enormous wings, flattening the nearby trees and ripping leaves from their branches.
The beast was immense – its scales were a deep coppery rust, and its body rippled with sheer power, muscles coiling beneath its armour-like hide.
The Great Dragon had arrived for its payment.
What have you done? it boomed.
The sound resonated in Maylie’s bones, deep and almost painful.
Her knees buckled and she dropped into a low bow, forehead nearly touching the scorched earth.
Her hands quivered where they pressed to the ground, and she fought to steady her breath, pushing down the surge of terror that clawed at her chest.
Great Dragon, she cried, pretending that every sense in her body was not screaming at her to escape. Most ancient of creatures. I ask that you might hear my plea.
The mighty beast seemed to pause, almost as if in surprise at being addressed in its own tongue. Its head whipped around and two yellow eyes bore down upon them as dry heat barrelled through the air.
Now she had its attention, Maylie knew she must convince the Great Dragon not to take the Princess.
Somehow. She swallowed. There has been a mistake, she said, as boldly as she could manage.
Please. This spring’s maiden cannot be your sacrifice because she is a relation of mine.
My own sister was sent to you nineteen winters ago and a maiden cannot be taken from the same family twice in two generations.
The Great Dragon snapped its huge, fanged jaws with a sound like splintering stone. That is not part of my treaty, it replied. I care not for your rules.
Maylie had not considered this. She scrambled back to her feet, trying to think of something else. Something that would keep the Princess safe. Then I am here to offer myself as the Maiden Sacrifice, she said. Take me instead.
It was the best she could think to do. If it were one of her sons in the Princess’s place, she would die for them without hesitation.
She would throw herself between them and death, again and again, without question or thought.
That was love. That was motherhood. And this would be no different.
She had failed the wailing baby that was first placed in her arms, but she would not make that same mistake again with the woman before her now.
One of my kin has been slain, snarled the Great Dragon, its yellow gaze looking down upon the blood-soaked earth. You have broken my treaty with the Mountain folk. I have no need of a sacrifice now.
Fear curdled in Maylie’s stomach. Without the treaty no one in the Kingdom of Calestra was safe from the Great Dragon’s wrath.
Her mind conjured visions of jagged peaks shrouded in smoke, the air split by screams and the roar of fire.
She saw cottages consumed by flames, and the sky glowing orange with ruin while ash fell like rain.
But it was Princess Tiannie who was slain, she replied desperately. Not one of your kin. She was once like us—
No! the Great Dragon screeched, and sparks flew from its nostrils, showering over the ground in burning embers. She belonged to me; once they come to the mountains, they all belong to me.
You can take my life as payment, cried Maylie again. The treaty can be remade.
The Great Dragon growled and swung its head as a hiss of steam sprayed from its lipless mouth. Your life is nothing to me.
Maylie was frantically trying to think of what she could do or say to appease this terrifying creature before it destroyed them all, when she became aware of someone appearing beside her.
She turned to see the Princess standing bare-footed with her face tilted up to the mighty ancient beast, moonlight falling over her fine features.
Greetings, Great Dragon, she said.
Maylie stumbled back in surprise. The Princess’s voice was the same as her own, half thought, half words.
The Princess drew herself up tall, the edges of the cloak slipping down her shoulders. Only Maylie could see the slight tremble of her fingers.
Greetings, Great Dragon, the Princess repeated. I have a proposition for you.