Chapter 73
Alinore
ALINORE SAT AGAINST a rock. Her body trembled, her bones seeming to rattle with the last shattering roar of that beast. The sound had torn through the mountains, as though Calestra itself had been ripped open and stitched shut again in a single, terrifying breath.
Though the creature had gone now, Alinore could still feel its disturbing, magnificent presence, and her gaze remained fixed upon the darkness below where it had disappeared, every nerve fizzing with fear that it might return.
‘Cress?’ she called, her voice hoarse.
Alinore had just watched stunned as her friend had approached the Great Dragon, a small, fragile figure against the enormous strength of that ancient creature.
Cressyda had stood squarely before it, bare-footed, unarmed and seemingly unafraid.
With tendrils of her black hair rippling around her face, she had fluttered her hands and tilted her head, and it was only when the Great Dragon had snorted and growled in response that Alinore had realized her friend must be speaking with the creature.
She had watched the silent, incomprehensible back and forth of their conversation, her heart hammering in her chest, her throat choking with terror, fearing that at any moment the Princess would be destroyed.
‘Cress?’ she called again.
She made to rise, but her leg throbbed and she collapsed back to the ground with a cry.
Pain lanced through her, and her hand instinctively went to the wound, blood warm beneath her fingertips.
The earth under her was scorched and hot, still radiating the Great Dragon’s heat like the sun-baked stones of the castle courtyards in midsummer.
The Princess turned. ‘Alinore!’ she shouted, hurrying over. She ran, half stumbling along the ridge, and threw herself on to her knees beside her friend. ‘Why did you come after me?’ she cried. ‘You could’ve been killed!’
Of all the things Cressyda might have said, that was not what Alinore had expected.
‘That’s … that’s some thanks!’ she spluttered back, raising her head with a scowl. ‘You could’ve been killed too!’
Cressyda pursed her lips. ‘I had a plan—’
‘It didn’t seem to be working out for you!’
‘Well, I just needed a bit more time—’
‘You were about to be eaten by that other dragon! The first one.’
Alinore sucked in a breath as another slice of pain shot through her leg. Her fingers trembled as she pressed them against the bloody gash.
‘You’re hurt,’ said Cressyda, the fight draining from her voice. She reached out, brushing away Alinore’s hand to see the wound. ‘You need help.’
Alinore tried to ignore the pounding agony of her leg. ‘Cress, what just happened?’ she asked. ‘The Great Dragon was here and it almost looked like you were … talking to it?’
Cressyda did not reply at first. She dropped her chin, then wiped the back of her hand across her cheek, and Alinore saw tear tracks shimmering in the moonlight.
‘I can speak in another language,’ she replied, her voice shaking.
‘I have the Sight, or something like it. I don’t really understand it. ’
Alinore blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend what she had just heard. ‘What do you mean? What’re you talking about?’
‘It’s too much to explain it all now.’ Cressyda shrugged and looked away. ‘I should have told you about it a long time ago. I suppose I didn’t know how.’
Before Alinore could respond, a shadow moved behind them. A hand reached out and gently curled around Cressyda’s arm. The Mountain woman called Maylie had followed them, and her dark, solemn eyes looked down at the two young women with pride.
‘The Princess has just made a new treaty with the Great Dragon,’ she explained. ‘She’s saved us all.’
Alinore stared at her friend, astonished.
She could not reconcile the girl of their childhood with the woman who had stood before the Great Dragon like a figure out of myth.
She had always known Cressyda was strong – stronger than Cressyda herself thought she was – but Alinore had not realized her friend was so brave.
‘You both defeated dragons,’ added Maylie, turning from one to the other, a reverence in her voice. ‘You’re what the early Mountain folk would’ve called Dragonslayers.’
The word hung in the air, full and heavy.
‘Dragonslayer,’ Alinore breathed, as though she had never heard anything so wonderful in her life. Then she added quietly, ‘Like my father.’
Maylie rose, brushing off her skirts. ‘I think there’s some wild swoul over there,’ she muttered, drifting away to a patch of scorched grass near by. ‘It’ll help with the pain.’
Cressyda leant forward and grasped her friend’s hand. ‘Alinore,’ she said when they were alone. ‘I’m sorry for … for everything.’
There was a long pause. Alinore looked at her, at the smudges of ash and dried tears on her face, the exhaustion etched into every line of her expression. ‘I know,’ she replied. ‘I’m sorry too.’
‘You were right about me. I’ve spent all my life trying to live up to a lie. I just couldn’t see it. I’ve never been as brave as you.’
‘I think you’ve just proved that’s not true!’
The corners of Cressyda’s lips lifted in a smile, but then faltered. ‘What I said about your father … it’s just cruel hearsay.’ Her amber eyes were brimming with tears once more. ‘I should never have said it. I’m so sorry. It doesn’t mean that it’s true.’
Alinore paused. She remembered the sting of those words thrown when they were both lashing out and hurting for reasons they did not yet know how to explain. Back when their friendship had started to fray.
‘I knew my father,’ she replied, her voice thick but steady. ‘It doesn’t matter what anyone else says. He died on the battlefield in a war protecting our people. I’ll always remember him for the hero that he was.’
A silence passed between them and something unspoken settled into place.
‘You mean so much to me,’ Cressyda whispered. ‘You’re my best friend, Alinore.’
‘I’m your only friend,’ she corrected. ‘Your brother doesn’t count.’
A feverish, hysterical bubble of laughter escaped Cressyda’s mouth.
‘What?’ said Alinore. ‘It’s true.’ But before she knew it, she was chuckling too: wheezing, shocked gasps that were almost like sobs.
Cressyda rocked back on her heels, tears slipping from her eyes. ‘Alinore,’ she cried between giggles. ‘You killed a dragon.’
‘I know. Can you believe it? I actually did it.’
They clutched at each other, shaking and sick.
Around them the night was cold and eerily still. As if the mountainside were listening and waiting.
‘You need to chew this,’ called Maylie, striding back towards them, holding out two sprigs of a spindly purplish plant to Alinore.
‘’Tis swoul. Some call it dragon’s teeth.
’Tis good for numbing pain and it’ll help us get back to my cottage where I need to clean you up properly.
’ She looked at the sky with a frown. ‘We’d best be off this mountain before anything else finds us.
I tethered that horse I found to a tree at the bottom of this ridge. You can ride it.’
Alinore obediently pushed the herb into her mouth, grimacing at the taste. ‘I can’t go with you yet,’ she said between mouthfuls. ‘I need to find Prince Ottone. He was stopped by King Samsel and the guards on my way here. I need to help him.’
Cressyda froze, her amber eyes widening. ‘Ottone’s with Samsel?’ she gasped.
‘Yes …’ replied Alinore. ‘Why?’
An image of the Great Dragon launching off into the darkness below the ridge, talons glinting, flitted into her mind and sickening understanding dawned.
‘Where has the Great Dragon gone?’ she added, almost afraid of the answer.
Maylie and Cressyda exchanged glances.
‘I need to go,’ said Cressyda. ‘Now.’