I Will Not Surrender - Part VIII. Escape (8/11)
Title: I Will Not Surrender - Part VIII. Escape (8/11)
Author: burning_arrow
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: R/NC-17 (varies by chapter and I’m not going to rate each one)
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: My life would be so much more interesting if I owned Cara and Kahlan, but, alas, I don’t. However, thanks to Terry Goodkind and ABC for creating such wonderful playthings.
Word Count: 5,728
Summary: Takes place several years after Tears. Kahlan rules over D’Hara and the Midlands, with Cara at her side, but behind the tentative peace lies a new threat. Part VIII.: Free of the Stone of Surrender, Cara finally gets her shot to escape, but first she’s got a little something up her sleeve.
A/N: If this first time you’re reading this, I suggest going back to Part I - or else you will be confused.
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII
Part VIII. Escape
By Cara’s best reckoning, she’d seethed alone in her cell for a little over a day, with no one but the Night Wisps for company. She had asked them how they had come to be travelling with Kahlan, and they told her of Caelencia and the Confessor’s travels there. They had explained about the guardian and the Stones of Surrender and the Circle of Hands. They had spoken of Kahlan being chosen as a protector of the magic, and what an honor that was. Cara had snorted her displeasure at this - as far as she was concerned Kahlan should be nowhere near Prentax and his schemes - but even as she had voiced this opinion she knew that the Mother Confessor would never shy away from such an important mission.
After Cara had tried, and failed, to destroy the Stone of Surrender, she had discarded it, banishing it to a dark corner. She had seen guards just twice, and then only for the briefest moments as they shoved food through the door. Of the wizard Prentax there had been no sign. Whenever she thought of the wizard her rage boiled up. Prentax owed her a debt of blood for the torture of the last two weeks, and every minute that she was denied retribution her mood grew fouler.
Something darker and bleaker than her anger had also crept into her mind, barely hidden below her fury. Despite her strong final words to the magical apparition of Kahlan, doubt ate away at her heart. She had tortured Kahlan. The logic of her choice and the fact that it was all an enchanted illusion did little to assuage her conscience. Oh, it was true that she loved Kahlan, and Kahlan her, but what kind of twisted love must dwell in her own heart to make her capable of such a vicious act. She had replayed the days over and over again, searching for something she should have or could have done differently, until her skin crawled. Then she had shoved the thoughts from her mind, until they had slithered back, uninvited, through some hidden weakness in her mental armor. She had refused to share any of the weeks’ events with the wisps. She could not face the shame. Taking her brooding silences as longing for Kahlan, the wisps had offered placating words, but she could find no peace.
By the time she heard heavy thumping outside her cell, Cara was wound tighter than a loaded crossbow. At the sound of muffled impacts, Cara stood swiftly, her back and shoulders rigid with tension, her fists bunched at her sides. She heard a key twisting in the lock. Whoever, whatever came through that door, she was going straight through them. She was tired of waiting. Black anger rolled through her like thunderclouds.
The lock clicked and the door swung inward. Cara sprang forward with a snarl. Her fist came up, starting forward in a sharp jab designed to break a nose or crush a throat. Terrified brown eyes widened as they met her own. Cara flailed, trying to shift her momentum in mid-swing, and tumbled shoulder-first into a very stunned Belle. They both nearly toppled over, but Cara caught herself on the door-frame. The blacksmith stumbled backwards into the corridor, only kept from falling by a petite, curly-haired red-head that propped her up. The Night Wisps came spilling out of the cell, chirruping excitedly.
As Cara straightened herself up, she viewed the two women through narrowed eyes. Covering up her momentary embarrassment with an air of agitated impatience, she barked unceremoniously, “It’s about damn time you got me out of that cell. And who is she?”
The red-head glared at Cara, but Belle grinned at the Mord’Sith. “You’re welcome, by the way. This is Merrilyn Fletcher. She’s a clerk for the Councilor of Galea, and she’s the one who got me the key to your cell, as well as the Weatherwax root that drugged more than half the guards on the way down here. It seems very few of Prentax’s men can avoid the allure of Mistress Sanderholt’s spiced rum cider.”
The woman named Merrilyn, arms across her chest, cast Cara a haughty stare, as if daring the Mord’Sith to speak another unkind word to either Belle or herself. Cara almost laughed at the woman’s audacity - very few of the Councilors would dare challenge Cara directly, let alone any of the common folk in Aydindril. It would have been refreshing, if Cara weren’t so concerned about what lay ahead. They weren’t out of Aydindril yet. She gave the woman a brief nod, acknowledging the clerk’s part in her freedom, before turning back to Belle.
“And what happened to those guards not interested in the cider?”
Belle patted her belt, where her hammer hung in its strap. “They’re sleeping too. Are those Night Wisps?”
Cara glanced at the hovering wisps and motioned at them with her head. “That’s Mayla, Rhion, and Aster. And don’t ask me which one is which, because I can’t keep them straight.”
“I never thought I’d see one,” said Belle, a note of awe in her voice as she stared open mouthed at the tiny blue-white balls of light. “They’re so…so beautiful. What are they saying?”
“Right now they’re saying thank you for your compliments and-“ Cara stopped abruptly and grimaced. She was not going to convey how the wisps felt about Belle freeing the ‘Hero of the Night Wisps’. She opted for the short version. “- for freeing me. So what’s your plan for getting us out of here?”
Belle forced her attention away from the wisps. “In a few minutes, there should be a diversion that will occupy Prentax and his men. There should be horses waiting for us by the eastern side gate. From there it should be a short ride to the Merchant’s Gate, which hopefully the resistance will have open for us.”
“There are a lot of should’s in that plan, blacksmith. I hope you know what you’re doing. What kind of diversion are we waiting for?” Cara asked warily.
“Oh, just a little surprise I mixed up in the powder shop -“
Suddenly there was a great whump followed by a sound like the roaring of a dozen dragons at once. The walls of the palace shook around them and the floor bucked, causing Cara’s footing to falter for a moment. Merrilyn braced herself on the wall of the corridor, and Belle stumbled slightly. Rock dust and debris rained down on them from the ceiling.
“What in the Keeper’s name was that?!” demanded Cara. Voices rose in shouts of terror and confusion on the floor above the dungeons, the sound filtering down to them despite the thick stone overhead.
A smile twitching at the corners of her mouth, Merrilyn answered, “That was one hundred barrels of Belle’s powder going up in smoke.”
Belle was wide-eyed again, but this time as if she were a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I guess I made a slight miscalculation in how long it would take the fuse to burn.”
Merrilyn’s expression turned grim as she said, ”We need to get out of here. It won’t be long before someone realizes we’re gone.”
Cara plunged back into the cell, returning a moment later with the Stone and its chain tied to her belt.
“Lead the way,” said Cara smirking, motioning with one hand.
Merrilyn took a few steps down the corridor, but Belle rummaged in a satchel slung over her shoulder. She pulled out a leather package and held it out to Cara. “Before we go, I took these out of the jailer’s office. I figured they would be useful.”
Cara threw the wrappings aside. As she felt the familiar pain seep into her fingers she gave a satisfied sniff. She finally had her agiels back. Now all she needed was a wizard to use them on.
***
Between Belle’s diversion and Cara’s knowledge of the palace’s secret passages and hidden corners, the three women moved unhindered. The turmoil in the main courtyard drew Prentax’s men, making it easy to slip past them. Through the occasional window, Cara saw a thick, black column of smoke billowing from the courtyard, the sharp stench of sulfur wafting in on the late morning breeze. The powder still burned and she idly wondered if the other shops in the courtyard had caught fire as well. Prentax and his men would be busy fighting the flames for a while.
The Night Wisps stayed close, almost riding Cara’s shoulders at times. Their voices tinkled in her ear, encouraging her flight and chattering incessantly about reuniting with Kahlan. Cara ground her teeth, biting back a reproach that in truth they did not deserve, her irritation notwithstanding. She’d learned long ago it did not do well to chastise the little creatures - it only ended with hurt feelings and Cara having to waste time soothing the offended wisp.
To Cara’s greater frustration, she realized that attacking Prentax now was not only impractical but would probably get them all killed. As much as she wanted vengeance on the wizard, it was more important that she rejoin Kahlan and Zedd. So instead of finding the yellow-eyed wizard, their small troop hastened along. The blacksmith conveyed as much as she knew of Prentax’s activities in hurried, clipped words, punctuated by the occasional pause to smash an unwitting soldier over the head.
“He does not seem to have a very sophisticated plan,” said Cara, frowning. “I don’t see how he intends to hold all of the Midlands and D’Hara with only a few thousand men. Darken Rahl had the armies of all D’Hara at his command, and still he never achieved full control over the Midlands. Prentax has no more than a few battalions.”
“Yet he took Aydindril nonetheless,” muttered Merrilyn, scowling.
“That is only temporary,” rebuked Cara sharply, throwing the clerk a scathing look.
“I don’t doubt that the Mother Confessor will return victorious. I’m no fool. I just wonder how many more Midlanders will have to die in these pointless struggles for power,” said Merrilyn bluntly, once again refusing to avert her hazel eyes from Cara’s gaze. Cara’s begrudging respect for the woman grew a little more, even as she felt herself bristle at the challenge.
Breaking in between the two women as if she was afraid they would come to blows, Belle quickly pointed out Prentax’s other advantages. “There are the dragons. And the Stones of Surrender.”
Cara reluctantly shifted her attention back to the blacksmith. “We were taken by surprise once, but now we know what we are up against. Even dragons will die if you know where to strike. As for the Stones, I’ll admit they’re a useful bit of magic, but I don’t see them helping Prentax rule a kingdom.”
“From what we can tell, he was counting on being able to use the Stones on the Mother Confessor and Zedd. Prentax’s legitimacy would be almost assured with them at his side. I think he believes he can capture them still, though his men have been after them for two weeks without a sign of either of them. Prentax is skilled and powerful, but he’s prideful too,” Belle said. “He seems to think that between his magic and the dragons, no one can challenge him.”
“Clearly he doesn’t know the Mother Confessor,” responded Cara darkly, “or me.”
A wayward guard rounded the corner at the next intersection and before he could cry out, Cara wrapped an arm around his throat while slamming the tip of an agiel hard into the base of his skull. He dropped soundlessly to the floor, his still form a testament to the cold fury in her words.
“We’re here,” she stated, stepping over the guard’s body without a glance down.
Blinking in the sunlight, Cara surveyed their surroundings. Just as Belle had promised, three horses waited for them, with no signs of guards anywhere. It seemed that most of Prentax’s men had abandoned their posts to fight the fire that was raging in the main courtyard. One horse, a brown gelding, stamped the ground in agitation. Two of the horses, the gelding and a white mare, had saddlebags that bulged from the items within, and blanket rolls strapped behind the saddles. Cara noted with satisfaction the bow and quiver tied across the bedding on the gelding. Clearly Belle and Merrilyn had been preparing very carefully for the journey. The last horse had no supplies, however. Cara glanced questioningly at the blacksmith, raising one eyebrow.
Belle acted as if she had not seen Cara’s look, saying instead, “We’ll take you as far as the Merchant’s Gate.”
This time both of Cara’s eyebrows rose. “You’re not coming?”
“The resistance is just getting started in Aydindril. I can help them,” Belle said firmly.
“Belle, no! That is not part of the plan. I’m supposed to stay, not you. It’s too risky,” protested Merrilyn.
Cara surveyed the blacksmith with a cool eye. “Aydindril will be a very dangerous place for you after today. You would be better off riding with me.”
Belle shook her head vigorously. “I’m staying. The resistance has safe-houses where I can hide. Merry already has arrangements for herself. Besides, you’ll need someone to prepare for the Mother Confessor’s return.”
“You’ll probably get yourself killed. Come with me. I won’t offer again,” said Cara, but she could tell by the set in the blacksmith’s square jaw that it was a pointless battle.
“I have my reasons,” said Belle stubbornly.
Merrilyn’s face turned a deep shade of scarlet and her eyes blazed. “You mutton-headed daughter of a donkey! What in the Keeper’s name do you think-“
Belle caught the clerk’s small hand in her own, nearly covering it completely with stout fingers. The blacksmith stared deeply into Merrilyn’s eyes as she said gently, “Merry, I have my reasons.”
The redhead gaped at Belle, her tirade all but forgotten. Cara rolled her eyes.
“The Spirits save us from new lovers,” she muttered to herself, though the words were half-hearted at best. Even when focused on the task at hand, a certain dark-haired Confessor was never far from her thoughts. She coughed loudly to cover her own discomfort. “If we have any hope of getting me out of the city in the next century, I suggest we leave now.”
They mounted quickly and Cara circled her horse around to face the route to the Merchant’s Gate. The Night Wisps burrowed their way under Cara’s hair, taking refuge inside her collar. She shrugged uncomfortably at the ticklish sensation of tiny wings fluttering against her neck. Then she snapped the reins sharply and the gelding surged forward. Soon, her only thought was avoiding detection by Prentax’s mounted squads throughout the city. The three of them took a circuitous route through the city, sticking to narrow alleyways and little used backstreets. With growing unease, Cara realized that they saw no one as they rode. Aydindril seemed abandoned. Normally at this time of day, even the less travelled roads would have at least some sign of life - a housewife emptying out a chamberpot, a peddler hawking his wares - not this eerie desertion.
Belle must have noticed Cara’s eyes darting around more than usual, for the blacksmith called out to Cara just loud enough to be heard, “It’s the curfew. The citizen’s are only allowed out on certain market days. Otherwise they’ve been ordered to stay inside until Prentax has time to issue new edicts. Anyone caught out can be whipped for disobeying.”
Anger flared in Cara’s gut, and she knew the Mother Confessor would be even less pleased by the treatment of her people. Cara urged her horse to move even faster. It felt as if she could not get to the Lady Rahl soon enough.
Even with their winding path, the women soon arrived at the Merchant’s Gate, which the resistance temporarily held. Cara slowed her horse to a walk as they passed through the gate. Four of Prentax’s guards and two of the Aydindril fighters had been slain in order to purchase her this passage. Cara recognized a few of the faces in the crowd of men as Home Guard and they saluted smartly when her eyes passed over them. She gave them a sharp nod. Satisfaction helped abate a bit of her anger, as she realized how many of Aydindril’s protectors still remained alive and loyal.
Once they passed under the gate’s portcullis, Cara drew the gelding to a halt. Belle and Merrilyn stopped beside her. A thought had just occurred to Cara.
“Where are the dragons being kept?” asked Cara.
Merrilyn responded, “They’re being kept about a league southeast of the city, near the river. They were too big to keep anywhere else. Prentax’s men feed them twice a day, using cattle they’ve stolen from the farmers.”
“And they let Prentax’s men that close without cooking their hides?” Cara was still incredulous that any dragon would suffer such an indignity, let alone six.
“It’s the Stones of Surrender,” replied the clerk.
“How many of the blasted things are there?” growled Cara. She absent-mindedly stroked the one that she had retrieved from her cell, the one that now hung from her belt.
“Too many, if you ask me, but as to the actual number, I don’t know.” The redhead sighed and shook her head.
A plan took shape in Cara’s mind. She would find Kahlan soon enough, but first she would see if she could strip Prentax of one of his advantages. A grim smile spread across her face.
“You two should get back inside. Prentax will send more guards soon and the rest of you should be gone when he does. Where can I find you when Kahlan, Zedd, and I return?”
“The resistance has been using the Honking Goose for a meeting place. Best start there,” replied Belle. The blacksmith opened her mouth as if she would say more, but Cara cut her off.
“Stay alive, blacksmith. You too, Merrilyn. The Mother Confessor will need people loyal to her when she returns, “ she paused, then added, “…and I would find it unfortunate if something happened to you.”
Cara’s eyes were already fixed on the horizon as if she could see her target from where they stood. Without a glance to either of her companions, she nudged her horse forward and he broke into quick trot that soon became a canter. As the distance between her and the city walls grew, Cara soaked in the freedom. For far too long she had been at the whim of Prentax and his magic. Now, the feeling of power finally began to surge through her again, and she relished the sensation. She was alive, she was free, and she had a plan.
***
Hidden in the speckled shadows of a thick burrberry bush, Cara silently drew an arrow from the quiver on her back and nocked her bow. She could see her quarry through the limbs of the bush, six enormous, hulking red forms, each with a thick collar around its neck. The dragons were scattered haphazardly around a large clearing, some lying on their bellies with their tails wrapped around them, others sitting on their back haunches. One sniffed the air lazily, thin wisps of smoke rising from its nostrils. From each collar, a single chain as big around as her waist ran to a nearby tree. The chains did not concern her, however, nor did the collars themselves. It was the blue stones, so tiny in their setting against the cold mass of the collars, that captured her interest. When she had seen the dragons in the air during the battle she had not been able to see the stones, but now she could make out the blue glow emanating from each collar.
Hoping that she had left her horse far enough away not to be noticed, but close enough to escape easily, the Mord’Sith took a deep breath as she drew the bowstring back. A deep calm filled her as her attention narrowed until there was nothing but the target. She let out half a breath. Then she loosed her arrow.
The arrow flew to its mark. With a tiny pop, the stone on the collar of the furthest dragon broke loose from its setting and fell sparkling to the ground. At first nothing seemed to happen. None of the dragons even seemed to notice that an arrow had just passed through the air in front of them. Then a thunderclap rent the air. The dragon shook its head as if waking from a deep sleep and bellowed at the sky. Its roar agitated its neighbor, which snapped its jaws in irritation. The dragon roared again and began to yank on the chain binding it to a tree. Its wicked, steel-hard claws dug at the links, leaving deep gouges in their wake. The chain would not hold long. Cara smiled as she nocked another arrow.
Another stone, and then a third were knocked from the collars of two more dragons. Two thunderclaps, one right after the other, rang out. The concussive sound nearly deafened Cara. Soon the clearing echoed with the fierce roars and snarls of dragons writhing against their bonds and lashing out at each other. The first dragon had ripped through its chain and was furiously scrabbling at the collar around its neck. The second freed dragon viciously attacked its neighbor, which retaliated with equally stunning force. The ground trembled as the massive bodies slammed into the ground. The other dragons bellowed in confusion and anger as the two wrestling dragons tore huge clods of earth from the clearing floor and flung them carelessly about.
Cara reached for another arrow, but her hand stopped midway to the quiver. The last dragon that had been freed from its stone was not roaring like the others. It was not trying to bite or claw its way through its chain or collar. It was staring at her, and its yellow eyes were filled with a deep, unrelenting hatred. The dragon’s lips curled back in a silent snarl, baring fangs that were as long as her arm. Heavy jaws opened and Cara heard the rumbling intake of breath that could only mean that fiery death was sure to follow. She began to back out of the bush as fast as she could, unable to peel her eyes from the dragon. The tangled branches of the burrberry bush resisted her efforts to scramble backwards. Part of her knew that it was already too late. She frowned. She felt no fear, only a sense of disappointment for failing to return to Kahlan.
Suddenly, as the dragon was about to exhale, another dragon snatched it by the snout and drove its head into the ground. Both dragons sounded their fury as claws and teeth scraped along tough, scaly hides. Enormous red bodies collided and tumbled. Cara had just enough time to see that it was the unchained dragon, now collarless as well, that had come to her timely rescue. Then, nearly falling out the backside of the bush, she staggered to her feet and ran without looking back.
***
The gelding’s hooves pounded over the sodden earth, churning up the grass and dirt beneath them. Though the day was bright and the sky a vibrant blue, the signs that it had rained heavily not too long ago were all around Cara. She wondered what else she had missed while trapped in her windowless cell. She rode hard, still trying to put more leagues between her and the dragon’s clearing. Her horse was young and strong, but she knew he could not sustain this pace much longer if she expected to ride him the rest of the day. Yet she pushed him. Just a little further.
With the wind whipping past her ears, the Mord’Sith never heard the low whoosh of wings overhead. It wasn’t until the dark shadow passed over her that she was aware that anything was wrong at all. Her heart pounding a little faster, she looked up to see a black, winged silhouette blot out the sun overhead. The gelding let out a high pitched whinny and galloped faster, as if he could outrun the dragon. His eyes rolled in fear, whites showing. Then the dragon glided past them. Cara watched with unease as the giant creature banked and descended quickly, landing only fifty paces from her. As its four great feet touched the ground, it folded its wing behind its back, leathery membranes sliding with a swish over scaly hide.
The horse reared up underneath her, nearly dumping her from the saddle, but Cara hung on with determination and no small amount of luck. In her struggle to remain seated she nearly forgot the dragon, who seemed to be standing idly by, watching her. With reins and words, Cara brought the gelding back under control. There was a line of trees to the west. Though she doubted she could make it before the dragon was on her, it was her best chance. She twitched the reins, and the horse pivoted, changing directions.
“STOP!”
The shock of the dragon speaking to her was enough to bring Cara and her horse to an abrupt halt.
“TURN AROUND SO I CAN SEE YOU,” commanded the dragon, its voice booming.
Cara was speechless. Did the dragon want to see its prey before it ate her? Somehow Cara doubted it, but she had no idea what to make of the request. She reasoned that it would probably not do her much good to argue though. She swung the horse around so that they were both facing the dragon again.
“YOU ARE PUNY. I THOUGHT YOU LOOKED BIGGER IN THE BUSHES.” The dragon, if it was possible, sounded disappointed.
“You don’t need to be very big to shoot an arrow,” replied Cara caustically. The words were out of her mouth before she caught herself. She held her breath as the dragon lowered its bulky head to gain a better view of Cara.
“THAT IS SO.” The dragon nodded ever so slightly, conceding Cara’s point. “WHAT IS YOUR NAME, HUMAN?”
“Cara Mason,” responded the Mord’Sith. “And what is yours, assuming dragons even have names?”
“OH, WE HAVE MANY NAMES, CARA MASON, BUT FEW YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND. SOME YOU WOULD NOT ENJOY. HOWEVER, YOU MAY CALL ME SCARLET.” Cara got the distinct impression that the dragon believed she was bestowing a great honor on Cara by sharing her name.
For a long moment, the dragon and the Mord’Sith stared at each other. Cara was baffled by the dragon’s odd behavior. Why wasn’t it doing anything? Or saying something? The moment stretched, Cara’s agitation increasing. Even the Night Wisps, still hidden in her collar, were silent. Finally, Cara’s patience broke.
“Am I free to be on my way, or do you need something from me?” she asked.
Scarlet cocked her head to one side and continued staring at Cara. It reminded Cara of a dog - a giant, hungry, predatory dog.
“What are you staring at?” demanded Cara in exasperation.
“I’M TRYING TO DECIDE WHETHER I SHOULD HELP YOU OR EAT YOU,” rumbled the dragon.
“Well, one way or the other, I do wish you’d make up your mind. I’ve got somewhere to be,” the Mord’Sith drawled. While she sincerely hoped that Scarlet did not eat her, Cara was convinced that her input mattered very little in the decision.
A sound like a hiccupping growl emanated from Scarlet’s throat, and as it continued for a minute, Cara realized the dragon was laughing at her. Cara waited in stony silence. A short while later the odd growl ceased, and the dragon leaned all the way down until her eyes were nearly level with Cara’s. Cara could feel the dragon’s hot breath blowing around her. Her horse whickered and tried to shy away. Cara held him steady, matching the dragon’s fierce stare.
“I THINK I MIGHT LIKE YOU, HUMAN. YOU DID FREE ME FROM THAT VILE STONE AND YOU GAVE ME A CHANCE FOR VENGEANCE ON THORN. PERHAPS I WILL HELP YOU.”
“Thorn?” Cara was perplexed.
“THE MONSTER WHO DARED CALL HIMSELF DRAGON.”
“The one that nearly char-broiled me?”
“THE SAME. THAT WRETCHED LIZARD TRIED TO TAKE MY TERRITORY SEVERAL YEARS AGO. I DEFENDED IT, BUT NOT WELL ENOUGH. BEFORE I FORCED HIM TO LEAVE, HE KILLED MY FLEDGLING SON. I WOULD HAVE KILLED HIM, BUT MY WING WAS WOUNDED AND I COULD NOT FLY. WE DRAGONS MAY LIVE A LONG TIME, BUT WE DO NOT LAY MANY EGGS. OUR YOUNG ARE SACRED, BUT THORN DID NOT RESPECT THAT. HE RESPECTED NOTHING. NOW HE WILL NEVER HARM ANOTHER FLEDGLING AGAIN.”
Cara viewed the dragon with a new light. Upon closer inspection, she could see the scars running across Scarlet’s snout and neck. The tip of one ear was torn and her left wing hung a little lower on her back, as if her injury still bothered her. Yet the dragon exuded power. Thick, ropy muscles, longer than a man, bulged in her legs, shoulders and haunches. Her yellow eyes were clear and sharp, and her teeth glinted, intact and unbroken, in the sunlight. Wickedly pointed spikes fringed the back of the dragon’s head and jaw. The Mord’Sith almost pitied any dragon foolish enough to challenge Scarlet.
“I AM VERY HAPPY TO HAVE KILLED THORN, BUT I AM ALSO VERY HUNGRY AFTER MY BATTLE WITH HIM. EATING YOU MIGHT NOT BE SUCH A BAD CHOICE AFTER ALL.”
Without warning, the Night Wisps sheltering in Cara’s clothes exploded from their hiding place. Before she could stop even one, they raced straight for Scarlet. The dragon yanked her head back in surprise, as the wisps swirled like mad hornets around her head. With her neck drawn up to its full length, the dragon was so tall it was hard to hear what the wisps were saying, but it sounded like the diminutive creatures were scolding Scarlet. Even more incredible, the dragon seemed to shrink under their onslaught. Then, the wisps ceased as suddenly as they had begun, and they floated gently back down to hover around Cara. Scarlet eyed her even more intently than before, but the nature of the look had changed. Though it was hard to discern emotions on the reptilian face, the dragon wore an expression that bore a close resemblance to curiosity.
“I DID NOT REALIZE THAT YOU WERE A SISTER TO THE NIGHT WISPS. FOR THAT I WILL NOT EAT YOU. THEY ALSO TELL ME THAT YOU ARE THE MATE OF A PROTECTOR AND THAT SHE IS MEANT TO DESTROY THE ONE WHO IMPRISONED ME. FOR THAT I WILL HELP YOU.”
Scarlet settled herself onto her belly and extended a wing in Cara’s direction.
“WE SHOULD GO. THERE IS LITTLE TIME TO LOSE.”
Cara gaped at the dragon. “You don’t seriously mean that I should ride you?”
“IT IS NOT WHAT I WOULD PREFER, EITHER. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF MEN ON MY BACK TO LAST A HUNDRED LIFETIMES. BUT I CAN TRAVEL MUCH FASTER THAN THAT PONY OF YOURS. NOW BE SWIFT, BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND.”
Cara was flabbergasted, but she scrambled from her horse nonetheless. This was not how she had anticipated finding Kahlan. She unlaced the saddlebags and blanket roll and slung her quiver and bow over her shoulder. Making sure she had everything she needed first, she undid the gelding’s saddle and pulled off his bridle. No reason to burden the poor fellow if he was going to be left behind.
“MAY I EAT THE HORSE?” asked Scarlet hopefully.
“No!” rebuked Cara sourly.
The dragon grumbled, smoke pouring from her nostrils. Cara gave the horse a hard smack on the rump. He needed no further encouragement and raced for the tree-line. Scarlet’s eyes followed the horse until he disappeared into the forest, her face seeming almost forlorn. Picking up her things, Cara climbed the leathery expanse of the dragon’s wing and took an uneasy seat between the beast’s shoulder blades. The scales were slick and she could find no purchase. She fervently hoped that Scarlet would remember that on their flight.
“TRY NOT TO FALL OFF, CARA MASON.”
Without waiting for a reply, Scarlet launched herself into the sky with one smooth push from her powerful hind legs. The dragon’s wings caught an updraft and soon they were soaring high over the Midlands. Behind Cara, Aydindril appeared in the distance, as if a child’s toy model, and the Kern River was no more than a trickle beneath her boot. Farm animals and the people who tended them looked as tiny as ants.
Despite her initial misgivings, Cara was caught up in the exhilaration as the wind raced through her hair and the leagues below fell away. Never in her life had she dreamed of such a thing - to fly like a bird, to almost touch the clouds. Her heart swelled in her chest with an exuberance that she had not felt in years. For just a moment it didn’t matter that her lover was leagues away and possibly in serious danger, that Aydindril was held captive, that the last two weeks had convinced her that she was still as broken as she ever had been. For just the briefest of instances, those worries melted away and the thrill and splendor of what lay below her and all around her made her blood sing. She grinned, despite herself.
The dragon cast Cara a glance. “DO NOT GET TOO COMFORTABLE, HUMAN. I MAY STILL DECIDE TO EAT YOU ONCE THIS IS ALL OVER.”
Cara could do nothing but laugh at this. Right now she was enjoying herself too much. The Mord’Sith noticed that the Night Wisps had taken places up near Scarlet’s head. She presumed that they were guiding the dragon to Kahlan, but with the air rushing past she could hear nothing but her own heartbeat and the dragon’s booming voice. The beast’s ears twitched and Scarlet gave a hard shake of her head, as if to dislodge the luminous creatures.
“WE DRAGONS HONOR ALL THOSE WHO SERVE THE GUARDIAN, BUT DO THESE NIGHT WISPS NEVER CEASE TALKING? I HAVE YET TO MEET SUCH ANNOYING CREATURES AS THESE.”
Cara’s grin widened. “You have no idea.”
Part IX
Author: burning_arrow
Pairing: Cara/Kahlan
Rating: R/NC-17 (varies by chapter and I’m not going to rate each one)
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: My life would be so much more interesting if I owned Cara and Kahlan, but, alas, I don’t. However, thanks to Terry Goodkind and ABC for creating such wonderful playthings.
Word Count: 5,728
Summary: Takes place several years after Tears. Kahlan rules over D’Hara and the Midlands, with Cara at her side, but behind the tentative peace lies a new threat. Part VIII.: Free of the Stone of Surrender, Cara finally gets her shot to escape, but first she’s got a little something up her sleeve.
A/N: If this first time you’re reading this, I suggest going back to Part I - or else you will be confused.
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII
Part VIII. Escape
By Cara’s best reckoning, she’d seethed alone in her cell for a little over a day, with no one but the Night Wisps for company. She had asked them how they had come to be travelling with Kahlan, and they told her of Caelencia and the Confessor’s travels there. They had explained about the guardian and the Stones of Surrender and the Circle of Hands. They had spoken of Kahlan being chosen as a protector of the magic, and what an honor that was. Cara had snorted her displeasure at this - as far as she was concerned Kahlan should be nowhere near Prentax and his schemes - but even as she had voiced this opinion she knew that the Mother Confessor would never shy away from such an important mission.
After Cara had tried, and failed, to destroy the Stone of Surrender, she had discarded it, banishing it to a dark corner. She had seen guards just twice, and then only for the briefest moments as they shoved food through the door. Of the wizard Prentax there had been no sign. Whenever she thought of the wizard her rage boiled up. Prentax owed her a debt of blood for the torture of the last two weeks, and every minute that she was denied retribution her mood grew fouler.
Something darker and bleaker than her anger had also crept into her mind, barely hidden below her fury. Despite her strong final words to the magical apparition of Kahlan, doubt ate away at her heart. She had tortured Kahlan. The logic of her choice and the fact that it was all an enchanted illusion did little to assuage her conscience. Oh, it was true that she loved Kahlan, and Kahlan her, but what kind of twisted love must dwell in her own heart to make her capable of such a vicious act. She had replayed the days over and over again, searching for something she should have or could have done differently, until her skin crawled. Then she had shoved the thoughts from her mind, until they had slithered back, uninvited, through some hidden weakness in her mental armor. She had refused to share any of the weeks’ events with the wisps. She could not face the shame. Taking her brooding silences as longing for Kahlan, the wisps had offered placating words, but she could find no peace.
By the time she heard heavy thumping outside her cell, Cara was wound tighter than a loaded crossbow. At the sound of muffled impacts, Cara stood swiftly, her back and shoulders rigid with tension, her fists bunched at her sides. She heard a key twisting in the lock. Whoever, whatever came through that door, she was going straight through them. She was tired of waiting. Black anger rolled through her like thunderclouds.
The lock clicked and the door swung inward. Cara sprang forward with a snarl. Her fist came up, starting forward in a sharp jab designed to break a nose or crush a throat. Terrified brown eyes widened as they met her own. Cara flailed, trying to shift her momentum in mid-swing, and tumbled shoulder-first into a very stunned Belle. They both nearly toppled over, but Cara caught herself on the door-frame. The blacksmith stumbled backwards into the corridor, only kept from falling by a petite, curly-haired red-head that propped her up. The Night Wisps came spilling out of the cell, chirruping excitedly.
As Cara straightened herself up, she viewed the two women through narrowed eyes. Covering up her momentary embarrassment with an air of agitated impatience, she barked unceremoniously, “It’s about damn time you got me out of that cell. And who is she?”
The red-head glared at Cara, but Belle grinned at the Mord’Sith. “You’re welcome, by the way. This is Merrilyn Fletcher. She’s a clerk for the Councilor of Galea, and she’s the one who got me the key to your cell, as well as the Weatherwax root that drugged more than half the guards on the way down here. It seems very few of Prentax’s men can avoid the allure of Mistress Sanderholt’s spiced rum cider.”
The woman named Merrilyn, arms across her chest, cast Cara a haughty stare, as if daring the Mord’Sith to speak another unkind word to either Belle or herself. Cara almost laughed at the woman’s audacity - very few of the Councilors would dare challenge Cara directly, let alone any of the common folk in Aydindril. It would have been refreshing, if Cara weren’t so concerned about what lay ahead. They weren’t out of Aydindril yet. She gave the woman a brief nod, acknowledging the clerk’s part in her freedom, before turning back to Belle.
“And what happened to those guards not interested in the cider?”
Belle patted her belt, where her hammer hung in its strap. “They’re sleeping too. Are those Night Wisps?”
Cara glanced at the hovering wisps and motioned at them with her head. “That’s Mayla, Rhion, and Aster. And don’t ask me which one is which, because I can’t keep them straight.”
“I never thought I’d see one,” said Belle, a note of awe in her voice as she stared open mouthed at the tiny blue-white balls of light. “They’re so…so beautiful. What are they saying?”
“Right now they’re saying thank you for your compliments and-“ Cara stopped abruptly and grimaced. She was not going to convey how the wisps felt about Belle freeing the ‘Hero of the Night Wisps’. She opted for the short version. “- for freeing me. So what’s your plan for getting us out of here?”
Belle forced her attention away from the wisps. “In a few minutes, there should be a diversion that will occupy Prentax and his men. There should be horses waiting for us by the eastern side gate. From there it should be a short ride to the Merchant’s Gate, which hopefully the resistance will have open for us.”
“There are a lot of should’s in that plan, blacksmith. I hope you know what you’re doing. What kind of diversion are we waiting for?” Cara asked warily.
“Oh, just a little surprise I mixed up in the powder shop -“
Suddenly there was a great whump followed by a sound like the roaring of a dozen dragons at once. The walls of the palace shook around them and the floor bucked, causing Cara’s footing to falter for a moment. Merrilyn braced herself on the wall of the corridor, and Belle stumbled slightly. Rock dust and debris rained down on them from the ceiling.
“What in the Keeper’s name was that?!” demanded Cara. Voices rose in shouts of terror and confusion on the floor above the dungeons, the sound filtering down to them despite the thick stone overhead.
A smile twitching at the corners of her mouth, Merrilyn answered, “That was one hundred barrels of Belle’s powder going up in smoke.”
Belle was wide-eyed again, but this time as if she were a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “I guess I made a slight miscalculation in how long it would take the fuse to burn.”
Merrilyn’s expression turned grim as she said, ”We need to get out of here. It won’t be long before someone realizes we’re gone.”
Cara plunged back into the cell, returning a moment later with the Stone and its chain tied to her belt.
“Lead the way,” said Cara smirking, motioning with one hand.
Merrilyn took a few steps down the corridor, but Belle rummaged in a satchel slung over her shoulder. She pulled out a leather package and held it out to Cara. “Before we go, I took these out of the jailer’s office. I figured they would be useful.”
Cara threw the wrappings aside. As she felt the familiar pain seep into her fingers she gave a satisfied sniff. She finally had her agiels back. Now all she needed was a wizard to use them on.
***
Between Belle’s diversion and Cara’s knowledge of the palace’s secret passages and hidden corners, the three women moved unhindered. The turmoil in the main courtyard drew Prentax’s men, making it easy to slip past them. Through the occasional window, Cara saw a thick, black column of smoke billowing from the courtyard, the sharp stench of sulfur wafting in on the late morning breeze. The powder still burned and she idly wondered if the other shops in the courtyard had caught fire as well. Prentax and his men would be busy fighting the flames for a while.
The Night Wisps stayed close, almost riding Cara’s shoulders at times. Their voices tinkled in her ear, encouraging her flight and chattering incessantly about reuniting with Kahlan. Cara ground her teeth, biting back a reproach that in truth they did not deserve, her irritation notwithstanding. She’d learned long ago it did not do well to chastise the little creatures - it only ended with hurt feelings and Cara having to waste time soothing the offended wisp.
To Cara’s greater frustration, she realized that attacking Prentax now was not only impractical but would probably get them all killed. As much as she wanted vengeance on the wizard, it was more important that she rejoin Kahlan and Zedd. So instead of finding the yellow-eyed wizard, their small troop hastened along. The blacksmith conveyed as much as she knew of Prentax’s activities in hurried, clipped words, punctuated by the occasional pause to smash an unwitting soldier over the head.
“He does not seem to have a very sophisticated plan,” said Cara, frowning. “I don’t see how he intends to hold all of the Midlands and D’Hara with only a few thousand men. Darken Rahl had the armies of all D’Hara at his command, and still he never achieved full control over the Midlands. Prentax has no more than a few battalions.”
“Yet he took Aydindril nonetheless,” muttered Merrilyn, scowling.
“That is only temporary,” rebuked Cara sharply, throwing the clerk a scathing look.
“I don’t doubt that the Mother Confessor will return victorious. I’m no fool. I just wonder how many more Midlanders will have to die in these pointless struggles for power,” said Merrilyn bluntly, once again refusing to avert her hazel eyes from Cara’s gaze. Cara’s begrudging respect for the woman grew a little more, even as she felt herself bristle at the challenge.
Breaking in between the two women as if she was afraid they would come to blows, Belle quickly pointed out Prentax’s other advantages. “There are the dragons. And the Stones of Surrender.”
Cara reluctantly shifted her attention back to the blacksmith. “We were taken by surprise once, but now we know what we are up against. Even dragons will die if you know where to strike. As for the Stones, I’ll admit they’re a useful bit of magic, but I don’t see them helping Prentax rule a kingdom.”
“From what we can tell, he was counting on being able to use the Stones on the Mother Confessor and Zedd. Prentax’s legitimacy would be almost assured with them at his side. I think he believes he can capture them still, though his men have been after them for two weeks without a sign of either of them. Prentax is skilled and powerful, but he’s prideful too,” Belle said. “He seems to think that between his magic and the dragons, no one can challenge him.”
“Clearly he doesn’t know the Mother Confessor,” responded Cara darkly, “or me.”
A wayward guard rounded the corner at the next intersection and before he could cry out, Cara wrapped an arm around his throat while slamming the tip of an agiel hard into the base of his skull. He dropped soundlessly to the floor, his still form a testament to the cold fury in her words.
“We’re here,” she stated, stepping over the guard’s body without a glance down.
Blinking in the sunlight, Cara surveyed their surroundings. Just as Belle had promised, three horses waited for them, with no signs of guards anywhere. It seemed that most of Prentax’s men had abandoned their posts to fight the fire that was raging in the main courtyard. One horse, a brown gelding, stamped the ground in agitation. Two of the horses, the gelding and a white mare, had saddlebags that bulged from the items within, and blanket rolls strapped behind the saddles. Cara noted with satisfaction the bow and quiver tied across the bedding on the gelding. Clearly Belle and Merrilyn had been preparing very carefully for the journey. The last horse had no supplies, however. Cara glanced questioningly at the blacksmith, raising one eyebrow.
Belle acted as if she had not seen Cara’s look, saying instead, “We’ll take you as far as the Merchant’s Gate.”
This time both of Cara’s eyebrows rose. “You’re not coming?”
“The resistance is just getting started in Aydindril. I can help them,” Belle said firmly.
“Belle, no! That is not part of the plan. I’m supposed to stay, not you. It’s too risky,” protested Merrilyn.
Cara surveyed the blacksmith with a cool eye. “Aydindril will be a very dangerous place for you after today. You would be better off riding with me.”
Belle shook her head vigorously. “I’m staying. The resistance has safe-houses where I can hide. Merry already has arrangements for herself. Besides, you’ll need someone to prepare for the Mother Confessor’s return.”
“You’ll probably get yourself killed. Come with me. I won’t offer again,” said Cara, but she could tell by the set in the blacksmith’s square jaw that it was a pointless battle.
“I have my reasons,” said Belle stubbornly.
Merrilyn’s face turned a deep shade of scarlet and her eyes blazed. “You mutton-headed daughter of a donkey! What in the Keeper’s name do you think-“
Belle caught the clerk’s small hand in her own, nearly covering it completely with stout fingers. The blacksmith stared deeply into Merrilyn’s eyes as she said gently, “Merry, I have my reasons.”
The redhead gaped at Belle, her tirade all but forgotten. Cara rolled her eyes.
“The Spirits save us from new lovers,” she muttered to herself, though the words were half-hearted at best. Even when focused on the task at hand, a certain dark-haired Confessor was never far from her thoughts. She coughed loudly to cover her own discomfort. “If we have any hope of getting me out of the city in the next century, I suggest we leave now.”
They mounted quickly and Cara circled her horse around to face the route to the Merchant’s Gate. The Night Wisps burrowed their way under Cara’s hair, taking refuge inside her collar. She shrugged uncomfortably at the ticklish sensation of tiny wings fluttering against her neck. Then she snapped the reins sharply and the gelding surged forward. Soon, her only thought was avoiding detection by Prentax’s mounted squads throughout the city. The three of them took a circuitous route through the city, sticking to narrow alleyways and little used backstreets. With growing unease, Cara realized that they saw no one as they rode. Aydindril seemed abandoned. Normally at this time of day, even the less travelled roads would have at least some sign of life - a housewife emptying out a chamberpot, a peddler hawking his wares - not this eerie desertion.
Belle must have noticed Cara’s eyes darting around more than usual, for the blacksmith called out to Cara just loud enough to be heard, “It’s the curfew. The citizen’s are only allowed out on certain market days. Otherwise they’ve been ordered to stay inside until Prentax has time to issue new edicts. Anyone caught out can be whipped for disobeying.”
Anger flared in Cara’s gut, and she knew the Mother Confessor would be even less pleased by the treatment of her people. Cara urged her horse to move even faster. It felt as if she could not get to the Lady Rahl soon enough.
Even with their winding path, the women soon arrived at the Merchant’s Gate, which the resistance temporarily held. Cara slowed her horse to a walk as they passed through the gate. Four of Prentax’s guards and two of the Aydindril fighters had been slain in order to purchase her this passage. Cara recognized a few of the faces in the crowd of men as Home Guard and they saluted smartly when her eyes passed over them. She gave them a sharp nod. Satisfaction helped abate a bit of her anger, as she realized how many of Aydindril’s protectors still remained alive and loyal.
Once they passed under the gate’s portcullis, Cara drew the gelding to a halt. Belle and Merrilyn stopped beside her. A thought had just occurred to Cara.
“Where are the dragons being kept?” asked Cara.
Merrilyn responded, “They’re being kept about a league southeast of the city, near the river. They were too big to keep anywhere else. Prentax’s men feed them twice a day, using cattle they’ve stolen from the farmers.”
“And they let Prentax’s men that close without cooking their hides?” Cara was still incredulous that any dragon would suffer such an indignity, let alone six.
“It’s the Stones of Surrender,” replied the clerk.
“How many of the blasted things are there?” growled Cara. She absent-mindedly stroked the one that she had retrieved from her cell, the one that now hung from her belt.
“Too many, if you ask me, but as to the actual number, I don’t know.” The redhead sighed and shook her head.
A plan took shape in Cara’s mind. She would find Kahlan soon enough, but first she would see if she could strip Prentax of one of his advantages. A grim smile spread across her face.
“You two should get back inside. Prentax will send more guards soon and the rest of you should be gone when he does. Where can I find you when Kahlan, Zedd, and I return?”
“The resistance has been using the Honking Goose for a meeting place. Best start there,” replied Belle. The blacksmith opened her mouth as if she would say more, but Cara cut her off.
“Stay alive, blacksmith. You too, Merrilyn. The Mother Confessor will need people loyal to her when she returns, “ she paused, then added, “…and I would find it unfortunate if something happened to you.”
Cara’s eyes were already fixed on the horizon as if she could see her target from where they stood. Without a glance to either of her companions, she nudged her horse forward and he broke into quick trot that soon became a canter. As the distance between her and the city walls grew, Cara soaked in the freedom. For far too long she had been at the whim of Prentax and his magic. Now, the feeling of power finally began to surge through her again, and she relished the sensation. She was alive, she was free, and she had a plan.
***
Hidden in the speckled shadows of a thick burrberry bush, Cara silently drew an arrow from the quiver on her back and nocked her bow. She could see her quarry through the limbs of the bush, six enormous, hulking red forms, each with a thick collar around its neck. The dragons were scattered haphazardly around a large clearing, some lying on their bellies with their tails wrapped around them, others sitting on their back haunches. One sniffed the air lazily, thin wisps of smoke rising from its nostrils. From each collar, a single chain as big around as her waist ran to a nearby tree. The chains did not concern her, however, nor did the collars themselves. It was the blue stones, so tiny in their setting against the cold mass of the collars, that captured her interest. When she had seen the dragons in the air during the battle she had not been able to see the stones, but now she could make out the blue glow emanating from each collar.
Hoping that she had left her horse far enough away not to be noticed, but close enough to escape easily, the Mord’Sith took a deep breath as she drew the bowstring back. A deep calm filled her as her attention narrowed until there was nothing but the target. She let out half a breath. Then she loosed her arrow.
The arrow flew to its mark. With a tiny pop, the stone on the collar of the furthest dragon broke loose from its setting and fell sparkling to the ground. At first nothing seemed to happen. None of the dragons even seemed to notice that an arrow had just passed through the air in front of them. Then a thunderclap rent the air. The dragon shook its head as if waking from a deep sleep and bellowed at the sky. Its roar agitated its neighbor, which snapped its jaws in irritation. The dragon roared again and began to yank on the chain binding it to a tree. Its wicked, steel-hard claws dug at the links, leaving deep gouges in their wake. The chain would not hold long. Cara smiled as she nocked another arrow.
Another stone, and then a third were knocked from the collars of two more dragons. Two thunderclaps, one right after the other, rang out. The concussive sound nearly deafened Cara. Soon the clearing echoed with the fierce roars and snarls of dragons writhing against their bonds and lashing out at each other. The first dragon had ripped through its chain and was furiously scrabbling at the collar around its neck. The second freed dragon viciously attacked its neighbor, which retaliated with equally stunning force. The ground trembled as the massive bodies slammed into the ground. The other dragons bellowed in confusion and anger as the two wrestling dragons tore huge clods of earth from the clearing floor and flung them carelessly about.
Cara reached for another arrow, but her hand stopped midway to the quiver. The last dragon that had been freed from its stone was not roaring like the others. It was not trying to bite or claw its way through its chain or collar. It was staring at her, and its yellow eyes were filled with a deep, unrelenting hatred. The dragon’s lips curled back in a silent snarl, baring fangs that were as long as her arm. Heavy jaws opened and Cara heard the rumbling intake of breath that could only mean that fiery death was sure to follow. She began to back out of the bush as fast as she could, unable to peel her eyes from the dragon. The tangled branches of the burrberry bush resisted her efforts to scramble backwards. Part of her knew that it was already too late. She frowned. She felt no fear, only a sense of disappointment for failing to return to Kahlan.
Suddenly, as the dragon was about to exhale, another dragon snatched it by the snout and drove its head into the ground. Both dragons sounded their fury as claws and teeth scraped along tough, scaly hides. Enormous red bodies collided and tumbled. Cara had just enough time to see that it was the unchained dragon, now collarless as well, that had come to her timely rescue. Then, nearly falling out the backside of the bush, she staggered to her feet and ran without looking back.
***
The gelding’s hooves pounded over the sodden earth, churning up the grass and dirt beneath them. Though the day was bright and the sky a vibrant blue, the signs that it had rained heavily not too long ago were all around Cara. She wondered what else she had missed while trapped in her windowless cell. She rode hard, still trying to put more leagues between her and the dragon’s clearing. Her horse was young and strong, but she knew he could not sustain this pace much longer if she expected to ride him the rest of the day. Yet she pushed him. Just a little further.
With the wind whipping past her ears, the Mord’Sith never heard the low whoosh of wings overhead. It wasn’t until the dark shadow passed over her that she was aware that anything was wrong at all. Her heart pounding a little faster, she looked up to see a black, winged silhouette blot out the sun overhead. The gelding let out a high pitched whinny and galloped faster, as if he could outrun the dragon. His eyes rolled in fear, whites showing. Then the dragon glided past them. Cara watched with unease as the giant creature banked and descended quickly, landing only fifty paces from her. As its four great feet touched the ground, it folded its wing behind its back, leathery membranes sliding with a swish over scaly hide.
The horse reared up underneath her, nearly dumping her from the saddle, but Cara hung on with determination and no small amount of luck. In her struggle to remain seated she nearly forgot the dragon, who seemed to be standing idly by, watching her. With reins and words, Cara brought the gelding back under control. There was a line of trees to the west. Though she doubted she could make it before the dragon was on her, it was her best chance. She twitched the reins, and the horse pivoted, changing directions.
“STOP!”
The shock of the dragon speaking to her was enough to bring Cara and her horse to an abrupt halt.
“TURN AROUND SO I CAN SEE YOU,” commanded the dragon, its voice booming.
Cara was speechless. Did the dragon want to see its prey before it ate her? Somehow Cara doubted it, but she had no idea what to make of the request. She reasoned that it would probably not do her much good to argue though. She swung the horse around so that they were both facing the dragon again.
“YOU ARE PUNY. I THOUGHT YOU LOOKED BIGGER IN THE BUSHES.” The dragon, if it was possible, sounded disappointed.
“You don’t need to be very big to shoot an arrow,” replied Cara caustically. The words were out of her mouth before she caught herself. She held her breath as the dragon lowered its bulky head to gain a better view of Cara.
“THAT IS SO.” The dragon nodded ever so slightly, conceding Cara’s point. “WHAT IS YOUR NAME, HUMAN?”
“Cara Mason,” responded the Mord’Sith. “And what is yours, assuming dragons even have names?”
“OH, WE HAVE MANY NAMES, CARA MASON, BUT FEW YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND. SOME YOU WOULD NOT ENJOY. HOWEVER, YOU MAY CALL ME SCARLET.” Cara got the distinct impression that the dragon believed she was bestowing a great honor on Cara by sharing her name.
For a long moment, the dragon and the Mord’Sith stared at each other. Cara was baffled by the dragon’s odd behavior. Why wasn’t it doing anything? Or saying something? The moment stretched, Cara’s agitation increasing. Even the Night Wisps, still hidden in her collar, were silent. Finally, Cara’s patience broke.
“Am I free to be on my way, or do you need something from me?” she asked.
Scarlet cocked her head to one side and continued staring at Cara. It reminded Cara of a dog - a giant, hungry, predatory dog.
“What are you staring at?” demanded Cara in exasperation.
“I’M TRYING TO DECIDE WHETHER I SHOULD HELP YOU OR EAT YOU,” rumbled the dragon.
“Well, one way or the other, I do wish you’d make up your mind. I’ve got somewhere to be,” the Mord’Sith drawled. While she sincerely hoped that Scarlet did not eat her, Cara was convinced that her input mattered very little in the decision.
A sound like a hiccupping growl emanated from Scarlet’s throat, and as it continued for a minute, Cara realized the dragon was laughing at her. Cara waited in stony silence. A short while later the odd growl ceased, and the dragon leaned all the way down until her eyes were nearly level with Cara’s. Cara could feel the dragon’s hot breath blowing around her. Her horse whickered and tried to shy away. Cara held him steady, matching the dragon’s fierce stare.
“I THINK I MIGHT LIKE YOU, HUMAN. YOU DID FREE ME FROM THAT VILE STONE AND YOU GAVE ME A CHANCE FOR VENGEANCE ON THORN. PERHAPS I WILL HELP YOU.”
“Thorn?” Cara was perplexed.
“THE MONSTER WHO DARED CALL HIMSELF DRAGON.”
“The one that nearly char-broiled me?”
“THE SAME. THAT WRETCHED LIZARD TRIED TO TAKE MY TERRITORY SEVERAL YEARS AGO. I DEFENDED IT, BUT NOT WELL ENOUGH. BEFORE I FORCED HIM TO LEAVE, HE KILLED MY FLEDGLING SON. I WOULD HAVE KILLED HIM, BUT MY WING WAS WOUNDED AND I COULD NOT FLY. WE DRAGONS MAY LIVE A LONG TIME, BUT WE DO NOT LAY MANY EGGS. OUR YOUNG ARE SACRED, BUT THORN DID NOT RESPECT THAT. HE RESPECTED NOTHING. NOW HE WILL NEVER HARM ANOTHER FLEDGLING AGAIN.”
Cara viewed the dragon with a new light. Upon closer inspection, she could see the scars running across Scarlet’s snout and neck. The tip of one ear was torn and her left wing hung a little lower on her back, as if her injury still bothered her. Yet the dragon exuded power. Thick, ropy muscles, longer than a man, bulged in her legs, shoulders and haunches. Her yellow eyes were clear and sharp, and her teeth glinted, intact and unbroken, in the sunlight. Wickedly pointed spikes fringed the back of the dragon’s head and jaw. The Mord’Sith almost pitied any dragon foolish enough to challenge Scarlet.
“I AM VERY HAPPY TO HAVE KILLED THORN, BUT I AM ALSO VERY HUNGRY AFTER MY BATTLE WITH HIM. EATING YOU MIGHT NOT BE SUCH A BAD CHOICE AFTER ALL.”
Without warning, the Night Wisps sheltering in Cara’s clothes exploded from their hiding place. Before she could stop even one, they raced straight for Scarlet. The dragon yanked her head back in surprise, as the wisps swirled like mad hornets around her head. With her neck drawn up to its full length, the dragon was so tall it was hard to hear what the wisps were saying, but it sounded like the diminutive creatures were scolding Scarlet. Even more incredible, the dragon seemed to shrink under their onslaught. Then, the wisps ceased as suddenly as they had begun, and they floated gently back down to hover around Cara. Scarlet eyed her even more intently than before, but the nature of the look had changed. Though it was hard to discern emotions on the reptilian face, the dragon wore an expression that bore a close resemblance to curiosity.
“I DID NOT REALIZE THAT YOU WERE A SISTER TO THE NIGHT WISPS. FOR THAT I WILL NOT EAT YOU. THEY ALSO TELL ME THAT YOU ARE THE MATE OF A PROTECTOR AND THAT SHE IS MEANT TO DESTROY THE ONE WHO IMPRISONED ME. FOR THAT I WILL HELP YOU.”
Scarlet settled herself onto her belly and extended a wing in Cara’s direction.
“WE SHOULD GO. THERE IS LITTLE TIME TO LOSE.”
Cara gaped at the dragon. “You don’t seriously mean that I should ride you?”
“IT IS NOT WHAT I WOULD PREFER, EITHER. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF MEN ON MY BACK TO LAST A HUNDRED LIFETIMES. BUT I CAN TRAVEL MUCH FASTER THAN THAT PONY OF YOURS. NOW BE SWIFT, BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND.”
Cara was flabbergasted, but she scrambled from her horse nonetheless. This was not how she had anticipated finding Kahlan. She unlaced the saddlebags and blanket roll and slung her quiver and bow over her shoulder. Making sure she had everything she needed first, she undid the gelding’s saddle and pulled off his bridle. No reason to burden the poor fellow if he was going to be left behind.
“MAY I EAT THE HORSE?” asked Scarlet hopefully.
“No!” rebuked Cara sourly.
The dragon grumbled, smoke pouring from her nostrils. Cara gave the horse a hard smack on the rump. He needed no further encouragement and raced for the tree-line. Scarlet’s eyes followed the horse until he disappeared into the forest, her face seeming almost forlorn. Picking up her things, Cara climbed the leathery expanse of the dragon’s wing and took an uneasy seat between the beast’s shoulder blades. The scales were slick and she could find no purchase. She fervently hoped that Scarlet would remember that on their flight.
“TRY NOT TO FALL OFF, CARA MASON.”
Without waiting for a reply, Scarlet launched herself into the sky with one smooth push from her powerful hind legs. The dragon’s wings caught an updraft and soon they were soaring high over the Midlands. Behind Cara, Aydindril appeared in the distance, as if a child’s toy model, and the Kern River was no more than a trickle beneath her boot. Farm animals and the people who tended them looked as tiny as ants.
Despite her initial misgivings, Cara was caught up in the exhilaration as the wind raced through her hair and the leagues below fell away. Never in her life had she dreamed of such a thing - to fly like a bird, to almost touch the clouds. Her heart swelled in her chest with an exuberance that she had not felt in years. For just a moment it didn’t matter that her lover was leagues away and possibly in serious danger, that Aydindril was held captive, that the last two weeks had convinced her that she was still as broken as she ever had been. For just the briefest of instances, those worries melted away and the thrill and splendor of what lay below her and all around her made her blood sing. She grinned, despite herself.
The dragon cast Cara a glance. “DO NOT GET TOO COMFORTABLE, HUMAN. I MAY STILL DECIDE TO EAT YOU ONCE THIS IS ALL OVER.”
Cara could do nothing but laugh at this. Right now she was enjoying herself too much. The Mord’Sith noticed that the Night Wisps had taken places up near Scarlet’s head. She presumed that they were guiding the dragon to Kahlan, but with the air rushing past she could hear nothing but her own heartbeat and the dragon’s booming voice. The beast’s ears twitched and Scarlet gave a hard shake of her head, as if to dislodge the luminous creatures.
“WE DRAGONS HONOR ALL THOSE WHO SERVE THE GUARDIAN, BUT DO THESE NIGHT WISPS NEVER CEASE TALKING? I HAVE YET TO MEET SUCH ANNOYING CREATURES AS THESE.”
Cara’s grin widened. “You have no idea.”
Part IX