Turquoise nostrils flared as Utiss emerged from the cave’s shaded entrance into the setting sun’s orange glow. She eagerly breathed fresh air, feeling it filter through her body and cleanse the final remnants of Ginroy’s toxin before exhaling a reinvigorated sigh. Poised on her back, Kilena smiled and comfortingly patted her neck. A breeze swept through Roselake’s fields and rippled on the water’s surface, a serene sight she absorbed while Utiss searched for their missing companion.
Targath was found perched on a lofty branch, reclining against the tree’s trunk with his long legs stretched out and ankles crossed. Kilena called out, “We’re ready to-.”
“Sh. They’re talking.”
Kilena went silent, but heard only a breeze whispering through the grass and rustling leaves. “I hear nothing,” she whispered in bewilderment.
Suddenly the air fell eerily still. Targath’s eyes opened only to shoot her with a gilded glare.
Surprise, swiftly followed by comprehension, percolated across her round visage. She stood perfectly still and exchanged a considerate gaze with Utiss.
The air remained suffocatingly paralyzed. Targath shifted, rolling from the tree limb, and then landed lightly near Kilena on toes and fingertips. She asked, “Did you learn anything?”
“I’ll tell you on the way,” he said, swiftly striding toward her. “Treants don’t appreciate eavesdropping, especially by fey.”
Gently, Kilena reminded, “I promised my mother we would visit before leaving.”
“Not only her,” Targath remarked, long legs carrying him in the direction of Roselake’s gates. Utiss pivoted and caught up pace at his side. “We should let everyone know Ginroy is dead and gauge their reaction. It’ll help you earn their favor. And we need to make sure the king’s willing to decree a call to arms.” Catching Kilena shift from the corner of his eye, he added, “Don’t dismount. Bring Utiss inside the gate.”
“They might try to harm her,” she protested.
In challenge, he canted his head and asked, “Are you saying you won’t defend her if that happens?”
“Well, yes, of course I would.”
“Good, and if anyone tries to hurt you, I’ll make an ass out of myself to protect you. That’s settled. Come on.” He jerked his head toward the city, and then marched onward. He checked over his shoulder that they had left the trees far enough behind, and then relayed what he overheard. “The treants are worried about Ivna and Amodeus gaining power. It sounds like they’ve already secured allies, including the Crooked Crusaders. And the treants have been watching you. Which means if anyone else knows how to listen to their language, our every move has been tracked and reported.”
“Until now, I had no idea anyone could understand treants,” Kilena exclaimed. “How is that possible?”
“Through a method of meditation that takes concentration and discipline, but their messages are inconsistent. Tales that start on one side of Draconiam take a while to reach the other and only if the wind blows in our favor. In other words, treants spread gossip and rumors when they aren’t arguing about the state of the world, but can also be a source of valuable information.”
“How do you know what is truth and what is false?”
“You listen for inconsistencies, where the story of one voice conflicts with the story of another. Only the tales that overlap can be considered truth.”
The bridge leading into Roselake drew closed with every step while Kilena thoughtfully contemplated. “Do they agree that Ivna is a threat?”
“Oh, every bit a threat, but getting them to uproot and fight is impossible. They believe they can survive anything, and believe in self preservation. Not that I can blame them,” he admitted to a shrug of his shoulders. “As long as treants endure, life can sustain.”
A guard near the entrance spotted them first, and then citizens walking nearby on the bridge’s other side paused to stare at the dragon and its rider. Kilena observed their surprise, but her mind was occupied by other thoughts. “Targath, would you teach me how to listen to treants?”
He choked on a laugh he failed to hold back. At Kilena’s quizzical expression, he said, “It took me decades to learn. But,” he went on, offering an endearing grin, “I think with some dedication and perseverance you can learn in half the time. We both know you have those those two admirable traits in excess.”
Gawking citizens stepped aside, forming a line on either side that carved a path through the streets for the dragon, the human rider, and the fey in their company. The air filled with a sense of awe and reverence. Scanning the expanse of citizens gathered, Kilena saw the chill of fear, the spark of hope, and the ember of anger in their eyes. She recalled memories of similar displays, where she was one of the spectators eager to welcome home the Iron Rose knights from battle and see her father marching proudly home. The last parade she ever attended was the one in which her father was only present as a corpse carried home in a cart.
Ahead, more spectators gathered into a knotted crowd around a statue honoring the Iron Rose knights, and blocked their path. Any side street leading to the castle was too narrow for Utiss to continue. Kilena waited and listened to the people. Most of them recognized her, remembered her reputation, which helped avoid any hostile confrontation. Whispers stood out among the din that questioned the dragon’s existence and whether it was dangerous.
From her elevated perch on Utiss’s back, Kilena observed the gathered people begin parting from the opposite side like a zipper being drawn open, permitting a group clad in Iron Rose colors to approach. Their armor clinked in cadence with every step, the five of them in perfect synchronization, and halted in front of Kilena and Utiss. Her gaze narrowed with distrust as the lead knight removed his helmet, revealing Sedrik’s face. “You three are still alive,” he arrogantly said, aiming a twisted glare at Targath. He returned a falsely innocent grin. “We can assume you were victorious, but where is your proof? What happened to the other dragon?”
“The cursed dragon was defeated in battle,” Kilena neutrally answered, and from her belt she retrieved a pouch. Emptying the contents into her palm, she held her hand straight in front of her. A grey talon, from tip to knuckle, sat in her palm. “I could not have done this without the help of Utiss, Frineer, and Targath. They must also be recognized.”
Annoyance passed like a grimace through Sedrik’s face, and then he questioned, “And how do we know this dragon can be trusted?” His scowl fixated on Utiss.
Kilena concealed the talon inside the pouch, and reattached it to her belt. “Utiss is a child of the god dragons, and without her Roselake would have known devastation. You saw with your own eyes how she valiantly fought back, holding the enemy at bay to defend us.”
Attention on Kilena once more, Sedrik continued interrogating her. “Why was the cursed dragon here in the first place?”
“Ginroy was looking for me when Utiss intercepted him, because as of now I am the only known threat to the impending evil that seeks to destroy our home. Not only Roselake, but all of Draconiam. Has his majesty made a decision on whether to add the Iron Rose to his fight?”
“As much as it pains me to deliver this message,” he groaned, “yes. His majesty and his council have voted in favor of a war effort to lend Roselake’s aid. When the time comes, you can count on the Iron Rose for support.”
Kilena tamed her beaming smile and respectfully lowered her head in gratitude of King Heldric’s decision.
Targath put a hand on his hip and smirked. “And all it took was risking our lives to kill a dragon. No big deal,” he remarked with a wag of his head.
Sedrik wore a stern expression, posture stiff and holding his gaze firmly on her. “His majesty also – humbly – extends an invitation for you, Kilena Maverick, to join the Iron Rose knights once again,”
Her head lifted abruptly, locking eyes with him, and mouth open in a silent gasp.
Targath chimed, “And your king didn’t see fit to honor us with his presence to make this offer in person?”
“I understand. He must be occupied what with recent developments,” Kilena reasoned, her hands twisting on the cotton reins around Utiss. “Sedrik, please let his majesty know that at this time I must politely decline his generous invitation.”
From Sedrik in front of her, and from Targath at her left, Kilena heard their unified exclamations.
“What?”
“Really?”
She giggled at their similar reactions. “Yes, really,” she said, choosing to respond to Targath. “As an Iron Rose knight, my duty becomes restricted to serve Roselake. I have grown fond of the freedom to help anyone, wherever I happen to be, without restriction, even if it means I cannot be recognized as a knight. Either way, I face doubt over my capability as a knight, and I can prove my worth with or without a title. Again, I am grateful and moved by the offer, but for now I must decline.”
“Suit yourself,” the knight high commander grunted, smugly smirking. Sedrik commanded the men in his charge back to the castle, and they pivoted about to march away.
Kilena’s gaze shifted toward Targath, and found him attentively staring at her. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he said, glancing away as he grinned. “I’m surprised. That was bold, and wise of you.”
A proud smile rounded her face.
“Kilena? Kilena,” called out a woman, pushing her way through the dispersing audience to reach its center.
The knight gasped at the worried tone in Margaret’s voice. “Ma?” Swinging her leg, she dismounted from Utiss and rushed toward her. The two met in a tight embrace, and Margaret squeezed until Kilena’s armor bit into her through the dress she wore.
Whispers of equal parts concern and excitement around Targath faded as Roselake’s citizens departed to the safety of their homes for the night. He stayed put with Utiss, leaning his back against one of her font legs, able to rest his head back on her shoulder. Wistfully smiling to himself, he observed Kilena’s animated gestures as she recounted the harrowing battle to her mother. He caught every few words exchange between them. Then the two walked in his direction, and he straightened up, arms uncrossing to hang at his sides. Kilena held Margaret’s wrist, meagerly attempting to stop her.
“Targath,” Margaret began, looking up into the fey’s golden eyes. Her knuckles landed on her plump hips. “Promise me that you’ll protect my daughter.”
Silver eyebrows knitting together, he said, “I don’t- Where did this come from?” He raised his hands in front of him, open as if one of them could place the answer in his palms.
“No one’s talking her out of this, am I right?”
“Trust me, I’ve tried,” he scoffed.
“Then all you can do is protect her. Please, promise me you’ll do that. With your life, if that’s what it takes. I already lost my husband to battle, and my son… Kilena tells me he’s helping them. She’s all I have left and she trusts you with her life, so make sure it’s not for nothing. Make sure she comes home to me alive.”
Targath’s heart gripped in his chest, gaze flicking between Kilena and Margaret as his mind reeled. Mentally staggered, he struggled to come to terms with this human imploring him to protect Kilena, even if it meant giving up his life. His usually casual facade shattered briefly, but returned when he combed his fingers back through a mane of silver hair. “Ms. Maverick, I’m not the type of guy to throw away my life recklessly. I value self preservation. But if it comes to that, I won’t die in vain. I’ll make sure that my death only happens if it means Kilena can fulfill her mission. Otherwise, all bets are off. That’s all I can promise.”
Margaret’s wrist slipped out of Kilena’s fingers as she reached for Targath’s hand, drawing it into the space between them to hold with both of her own hands. “Thank you, Targath,” she solemnly said, voice constricted by tears. “I pray it won’t come to that. Kilena is stronger than she looks, both physically and emotionally. You have at least put my mind at ease. From what she’s told me, you’re a strong warrior yourself and she obviously admires you.” A warm laugh bubbled up through her tears. “Once this is all over, we can talk about her future. She still needs to find a husband.”
“Mother,” Kilena exclaimed, her face blossoming deep shades of pink. “What gave you the idea-” Before she could finish, Targath abruptly yanked his hand back.
His gaze pointed off to the side, anywhere other than the face of the two women in front of him. “I – uh – no thanks. But I appreciate that you think I’d be worthy.”
Kilena’s blush faded with the corners of her mouth, a distraught frown tarnishing her pleasant features. “I apologize, Targath. Ma can be a little bold. For what it’s worth, I believe you would make a faithful companion for someone. Else. For someone else.”
She watched Targath flinch and raise his shoulders up around his neck, but he said nothing.
“I’m just teasing, for the most part,” Margaret said, and then turned to her daughter. “Anyway, please be careful. I’ll be praying for all three of you to return safely.” She brought Kilena into one more lingering embrace, before releasing her to climb on to the dragon’s back. Targath hopped up to join her, situating behind her.
“Utiss, you should take flight once we are outside of the walls,” Kilena suggested.
Nodding, Utiss rotated in place and gradually moved toward the exit. “Where to?”
Kilena twisted, looking over her shoulder at Targath. Smiling, she asked, “Where are we heading?”
He smiled flatly in return, devoid of the same infectious warmth constantly radiating from her. “Take us up and I’ll lead the way.”
“About what my mother said, she always worries. I had no idea she was going to-”
“Don’t worry about it,” he interrupted dismissively. “We’re companions for now anyway, right? And after this is all said done, we’ll go our separate ways. Until then, I’ll be faithful.”
Kilena swallowed, lost for words as her chest filled up with air as heavy as iron. No words felt capable of settling the tension between them.
Kilena Shrelack 