“Now, the dragons are no more than a fairy tale.” Miss Fitz’s voice drifted off in sadness. “They’re just a folktale we exchange when the town’s gossip has run dry. Now, we live in a cruel world ruled by men.”
Cora fingered her ring again, her mind deep in thought.
A boy at the edge of the campfire spoke out. “Can the dragons ever come back?”
“Unlikely,” Miss Fitz answered. “Very unlikely.”
“Is King Lux still fused?” a young girl asked.
“That, I’m not sure,” Miss Fitz answered. “But since he’s lived for so long, I can only assume.”
Cora’s skin prickled at the thought. So, there could be a dragon left in Anastille. But he was a prisoner to Lux, a cruel king.
“How does a human get a dragon to fuse?” the first boy asked.
“That’s a mystery to me,” Miss Fitz said. “But I can only assume by some dark torment. No dragon would voluntarily serve a man who wiped out his entire race.”
King Lux already robbed them every quarter when his men came to collect rent. Some families were left to starve just so the king’s pockets would be a little heavier. The soldiers insisted the tax was required to keep them safe from attack or invasion.
But from what?
Humans were the only beings left in Anastille. What exactly were they being protected from? It was all an excuse to wipe the commoners of every coin they possessed.
It was bullshit.
Miss Fitz surveyed the eager minds before she spoke again. “The dragons never should have trusted us so completely. Opening their hearts to us was their downfall. And I’m ashamed of my species for doing such a grotesque thing.”
Amen to that.
“Miss Fitz, why are there three kings?” a young girl asked.
Miss Fitz straightened like that was a question with a long-winded answer. “No one knows for sure, but I suspect—”
The watchman jogged up the dirt road with a torch in his hand. Everyone turned in his direction because it was uncommon to see anyone run anywhere—unless something dire had happened. He stopped by the campfire and turned to Miss Fitz. He was covered in sweat, and fear was in his eyes. The light of the campfire highlighted every feature on his face. The man of the guard, covered in armor and weapons, was actually scared. And that didn’t bode well for the rest of them. “The Shamans approach the gate.”
Three
The Shamans had only come to town on one other occasion, and it was to interrogate a man who served in the king’s guard. Rumors had spread of their foulness. They were covered in black clothing, every inch of their skin hidden from sight. They had the form of a man but the stench of something dead. When they moved their heads, it was with peculiar slowness, as if they were birds searching for their next meal in the soil. Just their presence chased away all hope.
Cora had only seen them from a distance, and that was close enough. Despite her brave heart and fearless edge, she knew they were unbreakable opponents. Not a single weapon forged in her finery could match their power.
They didn’t even carry weapons.
She could only assume they were mages, possessing great magical power that couldn’t be matched with a blunt ax or a crossbow. Their defenses were deep inside their brains, and the fact that no one was certain what their powers were made them all the more frightening.
Dorian pulled Cora inside the home he shared with his family. “You’ll stay here tonight.”
She didn’t want to burden him with her presence. The house was small, and they already had three boys to look after. She was another mouth to feed, another person to occupy a bed. “I’ll be fine above the shop.” She’d taken up residence in the small space. It had a bed, a bathroom, and a kitchen. It wasn’t much, but it was more than enough for her.
“No.” Dorian locked the front door and hooked his broadsword to his hip. “No one knows why they’re here or what they want. We stick together.” Dorian never showed fear, but it was clear he was worried about the safety of his family. “Lie low. Keep the shop closed tomorrow.”
“That’s our business.” She tried to keep the hysteria out of her voice. Without income, they would have no way of buying meat from the butcher or getting eggs from the farmlands. “It has to stay open.”
“Nothing is worth our lives, Cora.” His brown eyes bored into hers, somehow convincing her with just a look. He had the unnatural ability to manipulate her with simple concern. “Stay inside and be quiet. End of story.”
A day had come and gone, but the Shamans were still in town. Without leaving the house, Cora knew they were there just from the heavy feeling in the air. Fear was around every corner. The springtime joys had quickly dissipated the second the Shamans arrived.
Dorian walked through the front door with meat and potatoes. “This should hold us over for a while.”
Cora immediately moved to him. “What are people saying?” She followed him all the way to the kitchen and watched him salt and prepare the meat. Warning was in her heart that something devastating would happen now that the Shamans had arrived. What did they want? Or, whom did they want?
Dorian rested both hands on the counter. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Cora found that hard to believe.
“No one’s talking,” Dorian said as he worked with the meat. “Everyone’s lips are sealed. All I can gather is they are questioning people about something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “The Shamans must have made a good threat to keep everyone from talking. Whatever it is they are interested in, it must be important.”
Very.
Dorian covered the meat and let it sit on the counter. “Don’t worry, Cora. If we can’t figure out why they’re here, then that’s probably a good thing. The less we know, the better.”
“Are they interrogating everyone?”
“That I don’t know,” Dorian said. “Hopefully, they’ll get what they want and leave.”
“Yeah…hopefully.”
Dorian sent her a look of encouragement before he gripped her by the shoulder and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “We’re a tough gang, Cora. We always make it through.”
Several days had come and gone, but the Shamans still hadn’t left. They weren’t always seen, but their presence was felt. The darkness that accompanied them everywhere seemed to follow them like a heavy cloud.
Cora was bored out of her mind.
Dorian told her to stay inside and forget about the shop, but when she wasn’t doing something with her hands, she went a little crazy. She’d just finished a new crossbow, but she hadn’t had the opportunity to even test it.
She needed to get out.
Dorian was helping his brother in the fields, and everyone else was in their bedrooms. If she slipped out then returned later, no one would notice. And if the Shamans came to the shop, she would simply hide upstairs.
After she made up her mind, she left the house then walked down the dirt road. The village was completely empty. No one was coming or going. The usual buoyant atmosphere was absent, as if it never existed at all. All the doors were locked, and the curtains were drawn over the windows.