The Dragonslayer's Fate Read online

  All I have to do is leave. No one can stop me. I’ll find someplace where I can work. I’ll build a new life, and I’ll be happy at last.

  Mandulane walked out of the house and chose a direction in which to walk.

  He had no way of knowing that it would lead him to an opportunity that would be the catalyst for him to become the most powerful man in the world.

  CHAPTER 16

  Drageen Scalding grew up with the weight of the entire Scalding clan on his shoulders. He hadn’t asked for it, and he didn’t want it. More than anything, he wanted to leave this island with Astrid so they could both become dragonslayers and work for the greater good.

  He wished his grandparents had lived so Grandpapa Sven could have continued ruling Tower Island. Drageen’s memory of the deaths of his grandparents was vague, and he wished he could remember more.

  He felt sorry for his sister Astrid, who had been an infant when their parents and then their grandparents died. Now, several years later, she didn’t remember any of them.

  This morning he ducked into the one place on Tower Island he considered his sanctuary: the alchemist Bee’s quarters up inside the tower. She allowed few to enter, and every Scalding knew to leave her alone because the concoction of potions required her full attention.

  Drageen took a pillow from a pile in one corner of the room. He stretched out on a bench and tucked the pillow under his head.

  Bee sat at a table with a dozen jars and bottles laid out in order. At the moment, she used a pair of tweezers to coax the tiny spines from a bumble-branch pod. Every time she succeeded, a foul odor burst from the hole left in the pod.

  “My cousins are complaining again,” Drageen said. Flat on his back, he stared at the ceiling. “All they want is gold and what they think it can buy. They keep insisting that we start cutting off the gold covering this tower, and they won’t listen when I say we must keep all that gold intact for the sake of our future as well as our present. How many times do I have to tell them that if they chip away at the tower, it’s going to fall apart?”

  Bee made a noncommittal sound in response.

  Drageen suspected she rarely listened to him, but he appreciated the way she allowed him inside her work space and let him unload his troubled thoughts. He didn’t know what he would do without her.

  “Why can’t any of the Scaldings be happy with what they’ve got?” Drageen continued. “We have all the food and servants we need. Everyone has a fine home. And yet all of my uncles insist on telling their stories of the old days when the Scaldings raided the Northlands. My cousins think we should do that again. When I try to reason with them, no one listens.”

  The air stank more by the moment. Drageen coughed and waved the stink away from his nose.

  “You know the rules,” Bee said. She kept her gaze on the bumble-branch pod and continued removing its spines with a steady hand. “When anything I’m doing offends you, you are welcome to leave.”

  Drageen coughed again. “I don’t mind. I’d rather be in here with the stink than outside with the stinkers.”

  The closed door to Bee’s chambers creaked open. Astrid, now a little girl, poked her head inside. “Alchemist Bee?”

  “If you enter, there will be no complaining,” Bee said.

  Astrid yelped with delight and slipped inside the alchemist’s chambers. Upon inhaling her first breath of the stinky air, Astrid wrinkled her nose in disgust but kept any comments she might have about it to herself. She ran and threw her body across Drageen’s stomach.

  Drageen caught her with both arms and lifted her in the air. He then lifted his knees and placed her on his lower legs, now parallel to the ground. “Look! I’ve caught a whale!”

  Astrid giggled and reached toward his face, but her arms were too short. “I’m not a whale.”

  “You’re big as one,” Drageen said. He swayed his knees slightly from side to side, knowing how to keep Astrid safe from falling. “And you keep getting bigger every day.”

  She squealed but grinned. Astrid held her arms out to her side as if she were flying. “Come swim with me and the mermaids.”

  “Mermaids,” Drageen scoffed. “I’ve told you there’s no such thing.”

  “The merchants say mermaids are real. They’ve seen them.”

  “The merchants have terrible eyesight. They think a seabird sitting on top of the water is a mermaid. Besides, they just repeat what the sailors say. And all the sailors I’ve ever met have bad sight, too.”

  “But I’ve seen mermaids with my own eyes!” Astrid insisted. “And I’ve got better eyes than anybody else on this island.”

  “That you do. But you also have the biggest imagination on this island.” Feeling the pressure of her weight tire his legs, Drageen lowered his ankles and let his sister slide down his calves.

  Astrid plopped on the bench at his feet. “Then just come swimming with me and see for yourself. Nobody else will.”

  Her request tugged at Drageen’s heart. He enjoyed being in the water as much as his sister, but no beaches existed on the rocky island. Astrid knew she had to persuade an adult—or a young adult like Drageen—to go with her to one of the few spots on the island with a navigable pathway to water that didn’t crash hard against the shore.

  “Maybe I could in a short while,” Drageen said. “I promised to meet with Uncle Gloomer after breakfast.”

  “Gloomy Uncle Gloomer!” Astrid said. “He’s not even our uncle. He’s way too old.”

  Drageen sat up next to Astrid and did his best to look stern even though he wanted to laugh. “Don’t call him that. Gloomer is someone’s uncle. He’s related to us somehow. You know it’s easier to call him our uncle than something like ‘our cousin’s grandfather.’”

  Astrid kicked her heels against the bench. “Let’s go swimming now. Gloomy can wait.”

  A commotion of yelling men echoed in the tower outside the walls of Bee’s chambers.

  Drageen placed a warning hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Stay here with Bee.”

  Bee quickly gathered her bottles and hid them away.

  Drageen slipped outside Bee’s chamber door, walked up several steps, and looked over the railing of the short walkway that led to the tower stairs. Down below, he saw several members of the Scalding clan shove a petite woman with dark hair and foreign dress onto the center of the tower floor. “Who is that?”

  The petite woman tilted her head back and stared up. “Drageen! Are you well?”

  Baffled by the stranger’s question, Drageen darted to the stairs and ran down them. He found his clansmen with daggers drawn and pointed at the woman. “Put your weapons away,” Drageen said to his cousins and uncles.

  The woman offered a small bow. “Do you not remember me?” She spoke with a funny accent that Drageen couldn’t place.

  One of his cousins jabbed an accusing finger at her. “That’s someone from the Far East. She’s a brigand here to rob us!”

  Drageen laughed at his cousin. “No one is here to rob us.” He took a careful look at the woman. “You say I know you?”

  Her eyes softened, and she reached forward as if to touch his face. A few Scaldings stepped in front of her to make sure she didn’t. “You do. As did your parents and your grandparents.”

  “She lies,” another cousin said. “I never saw her before.”

  Drageen searched his memory, but her face didn’t strike him as one he’d seen before.

  A Scalding man with long white hair squinted. “You been to Tower Island before?” he asked the stranger.

  She nodded but kept her gaze fixed on Drageen. “A lifetime ago. I came when Benzel of the Wolf was here. I am Madam Po. I was his friend.”

  A chill ran down Drageen’s arms. He knew the stories about Benzel of the Wolf and how he killed a monster that once threatened Tower Island.

  He’d once overheard some of his cousins tell stories that made it sound like Benzel of the Wolf was Drageen’s true grandfather, instead of Grandpapa Sven. But whe
never he asked Gloomer or any of the other elders, they all denied it.

  If this woman knew Benzel, maybe she knows the truth.

  “Leave us,” Drageen said to his kinsmen. “And close the tower door on your way out.”

  The cousins protested until Drageen shouted above them and repeated his words.

  The white-haired Scalding ushered the other men out of the tower, saying, “Gloomer will know what to do.”

  “Tell me quickly,” Madam Po said. “Is your sister Astrid safe?”

  Although unsure if he should answer, Drageen couldn’t help but glance up at the alchemist’s quarters where he’d told Astrid to hide.

  Madam Po followed his gaze and then dashed to the tower staircase and climbed it.

  From the top of the staircase, Astrid called out. “Drageen, hurry! You can see the mermaids from up here!”

  Drageen chased after Madam Po, but she increased her pace up the stairs. When he reached the last step, he walked out on top of the tower where he found Madam Po pleading with Astrid. The alchemist Bee stood behind his sister and held onto her shoulders with protective hands.

  “You are in grave danger,” Madam Po said to Astrid. “Please. Come with me now.”

  Astrid crossed her arms and took a defiant stance. “I go nowhere without my brother.”

  Out of breath from climbing the tower stairs, Drageen drew in a deep breath of the fresh sea air that buffeted gently around them. To Madam Po he said, “You say you knew Benzel of the Wolf. Who was he to Tower Island?” Drageen steadied himself, not sure if he wanted an answer to his next question. “Who was Benzel of the Wolf?”

  “Answering that question will take time,” Madam Po said. “I will tell you his story once we reach safety.”

  “Safety?” Astrid said in a huff. “There’s no safer place than Tower Island.”

  Drageen took slow steps toward Astrid, ready to move quickly and protect her from the Far Eastern woman if need be. “Astrid is right. Why do you keep saying we’re in danger? What do you think threatens us?”

  “Not what,” Madam Po said. “But who. As long as you’re among the Scaldings, you’re in danger.”

  Astrid raised her voice. “That’s ridiculous. We’re Scaldings!”

  “You’re not Scaldings,” Madam Po said. “It’s what you’ve been told, but it’s not true. If you stay on Tower Island, the Scaldings will destroy you just as they destroyed the rest of your family.”

  Drageen reached Astrid’s side and took her hand. “It’s not true. Don’t listen to her.”

  A strange sound of slapping water interrupted them.

  Astrid ran to the side of the tower wall that faced the sea and looked over it. “The mermaids!” she cried. “They’re here!”

  The ocean air swirled around the tower and formed a forceful wind.

  “Time has run out!” Madam Po shouted. “Come with me before it’s too late!” She held her hands out to Astrid and Drageen.

  “We’re not leaving our home,” Drageen said. He saw no weapon on Madam Po’s person, but he decided that if she drew a hidden one that he would run at her and push her off the tower.

  Maybe my cousin was right. Maybe this Far Easterner is a brigand who’s come here to rob us.

  The forceful wind around them turned into a gale.

  Madam Po raised her arms to shoulder height, and the gale picked her up. Carried by the wind, Madam Po flew up into the clouds and out of sight.

  Astonished by the sight, Drageen took a step back.

  She didn’t seem surprised. She let the wind lift her. Like something that she planned.

  He stared up at the clouds until convinced the gale would leave the rest of them alone.

  Awash with relief, Drageen ran to Astrid’s side. “Are you alright?” he asked her.

  Astrid stared at the sea below. She pointed. “Look. There are the mermaids. Just like I told you.”

  Drageen placed a trembling arm around Astrid’s shoulders and pulled her close.

  He hated the way the memories of his mother faded. Drageen knew he’d been there the day she’d died, but he couldn’t remember how it happened.

  The only memory that remained was when Mama asked him to take care of Astrid. He remembered the trust in his mother’s eyes and the faith she had in him.

  Now, more than ever, Drageen’s deepest desire was to protect his sister and keep her safe.

  He looked down, chilled by what he saw.

  “Those aren’t mermaids,” Drageen said. “They’re dragons.”

  CHAPTER 17

  When Drageen saw the dragons swimming in the sea below the tower and climbing up on shore, he looked toward the sky with the hope that Madam Po would reappear and take them away.

  But Madam Po had vanished.

  Drageen paused and considered her warning.

  Did she know dragons were coming? Why didn’t she say so? Why did she warn us about our own family?

  For a moment, Drageen wondered if Madam Po was right to warn them. Instead of telling Drageen what Benzel of the Wolf meant to the Scalding clan, Madam Po had promised to tell the story of Benzel.

  If there were a simple answer about Benzel, wouldn’t Madam Po have given one? She said there’s a story about Benzel. Does that mean the answer is complicated?

  Drageen hovered between the desire to protect his immediate family—Astrid—and the nagging obligation toward his extended family—the Scaldings.

  He thought there might be a way to accomplish both.

  Drageen ran to the opposite side of the tower wall, which faced the courtyard below. Spotting several of his relatives, he shouted, “Dragons! They’re invading from the sea side of the tower!”

  When a few of his kin gazed up at him with confused faces, he shouted again. “Dragons!”

  Drageen turned to the alchemist Bee. “Take Astrid inside your chambers. Lock yourselves inside and don’t open the door for anyone except me.”

  He followed Bee and Astrid down the tower stairs and watched them traverse the narrow walkway and stairs to Bee’s quarters. Once sure they were sequestered inside, Drageen continued down the main tower stairs. When he reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped onto the tower floor, the door flew open and all of his Scalding relatives poured inside, everyone shouting at once.

  Gloomer brought up the rear and shut the tower door. “All Scaldings!” he shouted at the clan. “Place your short swords on the floor!”

  Although the Scaldings stopped shouting, they turned and stared at Gloomer in disbelief.

  Gloomer bounded toward the tower stairway and walked up a few steps. He faced his clan, withdrew his own short sword from its scabbard at his waist, and tossed the weapon down onto the floor, where the polished iron blade clattered against the stones. “Unless you want to become food for dragons, do as I say!”

  Shaken out of their stupor, his clansmen followed orders. One by one, swords clanged against the floor.

  Drageen owned no such weapon. His memories of his mother and father had faded over the years, and he knew the same had been happening to what he used to be able to recall about his grandparents.

  One thing he couldn’t forget was that no weapon had been passed down to him from anyone in his direct family. Drageen thought he had a memory of his father’s dragonslayer sword, which Bee claimed Gloomer had stolen and hidden away—or traded away—after the day Drageen’s grandparents died.

  Drageen approached Gloomer and said, “What are you doing? And why?”

  Gloomer ignored the question and directed the Scaldings as if he were their leader, not Drageen. “There are three doors to this tower: the front entrance, the door to the caves below, and the door at the top of the tower. Take five swords for each door. Except for the door to the caves, drive each sword through like a nail. Hilt inside the tower. Blade on the other side of the door. Wait to put the swords through the door to the caves until I tell you. Leave whatever swords are left on the floor.”

  Gloomer walked a few st
eps higher on the staircase.

  Drageen followed him. “What good will our swords do if they’re driven through doors?”

  Finally, Gloomer acknowledged Drageen’s presence. With a stern look, Gloomer said, “What are swords made from?”

  Such a simple question startled Drageen into silence. He collected his thoughts and said, “Iron. Except for the leather wrapped around the grip, swords are made of iron.”

  “And what is the one thing that will stop a dragon in its tracks?”

  Drageen blinked in surprise at the question. “A sword, of course. It’s why we have dragonslayers.”

  “Wrong.” Gloomer shook his head. Disappointment filled his eyes. “Dragons become weak in the presence of iron. It isn’t the sword that kills dragons. It’s the iron. It’s the iron that weakens them to the point where they can be killed by mortals.”

  Gloomer pointed at each door. “Driving blades through each door creates a barrier stronger than the door itself. It isn’t the door that will keep the dragons from entering the tower. It’s the swords we drive through the doors that will keep them out.”

  Drageen considered his uncle with amazement. “How do you know this?” Drageen said.

  Gloomer shifted his attention to his kinsmen as they gathered the swords from the floor and split into groups to address each door. “It’s remarkable what you can learn when you’re out in the world, which is what the Scaldings used to do. Meeting all types of people and learning all types of things from them.” Gloomer cast a brief look toward Drageen. “It’s equally remarkable how little knowledge one can acquire by doing nothing but staying on this island.”

  Drageen bristled. In recent years Gloomer had lobbied for the Scaldings to plan expeditions that would take them around the world with the intent of looting and bringing the riches back to Tower Island. Although many Scaldings liked the idea, Drageen had the final word, and his word was no. He knew Gloomer’s resentment for him grew by the day.

  Gloomer climbed up the tower stairs to oversee the work on the door at the top. Drageen shadowed him.

  Why didn’t I know about iron and dragons? Why didn’t anyone ever tell me?