Heartless

  I love you, Una.

  As she watched, the thrush darted into the mouth of the Dragon. Then Una saw Aethelbald, her Prince, kneeling on the monster’s tongue, sword in hand. Even as flames rose in the Dragon’s throat, the Prince stabbed into the roof of its mouth.

  The Dragon screamed. Like the ocean in a storm. Like hurricane winds tearing a city apart. Like mountains, thought immortal, tumbling in a mighty avalanche of stone. He screamed and reared up, fell backward, writhing and convulsing, knocking down buildings and smothering his own fires beneath his body.

  Una fled the market square, down to the docks and the storm-tossed sea. She flung herself into the water to escape the rain of fire, and clung to posts of a pier as waves beat over her. The roar filled her ears, and hot ash sizzled in the ocean around her. She watched the Dragon flail and flame in death agonies until she had to hide her face in her arm.

  At last all was still.

  –––––––

  In the water, Una shivered with sudden cold. Above her in the city, fire crackled and died away to nothing. A tiny wind touched her face, spraying her with light droplets, and disappeared.

  Una waded to the shore and climbed onto land, her clothes heavy on her light frame. Smoke bleared her eyes and choked her, but she stumbled up the ghostly path to the market square. The demon voices were hushed into empty, gaping silence. She did not speak, hardly breathed as she went, and her footsteps made no sound on the stones. The smoke was thicker every step she took, but she would not turn back.

  In the market square lay the Dragon.

  His body had crushed the former city center, devastating the buildings to dust underneath him. The heat from his dead fire rose like a wall around the body, but Una fought her way through.

  The Dragon’s mouth was open, and his great black tongue draped across the stones. Poisonous smoke filled Una’s nostrils, and she gagged. She peered between rows of teeth.

  The sword remained thrust into the Dragon’s upper jaw. But the blade glowed red with heat and was twisted like wire, the silver hilt melted like wax.

  “No,” Una whispered, shaking her head. “No, you promised.”

  She dropped to her knees as the heat and smoke overwhelmed her senses. “Aethelbald, don’t leave me. . . . Not yet.” She wrapped her arms about herself, bending so that her forehead pressed into the stone. “Please don’t leave me. I’d rather die than live without you now!”

  Her hands clutched her chest, feeling beneath her skin the heartbeat so strong inside her. It was his heart, not her own, but she felt it must break. “Please, my love! Don’t leave me alone!”

  “Una.”

  She would not look up but turned her face away.

  “Una, look at me.”

  “No!”

  “Una.”

  Strong hands reached down and took her own. Real hands, warm.

  “Una, I’ve come back for you.”

  “No!” She tried to pull away, but he would not let go.

  “Una, I am no ghost.” One of the hands grasping hers loosened and turned palm up. She saw there two red stripes of blood, fresh blood drawn by the blade of a grabbed sword. “Does a ghost bleed?” he asked gently.

  Slowly she raised her face. Kind eyes, infinitely deep and clear, gazed into her own. “I told you I would come back for you, didn’t I? No matter what.” Aethelbald smiled and wiped ash from her face. “Do you not believe me even now?”

  “I . . .” Her voice broke with a sob, and she flung herself into his arms, clinging desperately. Aethelbald held her, stroked her hair, and murmured, “It is over now. The danger is past. I will never abandon you. I will never abandon you, Una.”

  –––––––

  Dawn found the black carcass of the Dragon. The light of the sun pierced through the fading dragon smoke, disintegrating the body to ashes. A sweet breeze carried the ashes away to the desert and scattered them across the sand.

  38

  Fidel stood with his son just outside the broken gates of Oriana Palace, his arm around the boy’s shoulders. They did not speak but watched the fires die in the city below.

  At last Felix asked, “What will we do now, Father?”

  “We will rebuild,” Fidel said.

  “What with? Most of your wealth was burned.”

  Fidel squeezed his son close to his side and was silent. Again they stood and watched the dark road below them as morning slowly broke through the fading dragon smoke. Monster twined and purred about the prince’s ankles until Felix was persuaded to kneel down and rub a comforting hand down the cat’s head and back. And still they watched the road.

  Suddenly Felix yelped like a puppy and ran down the hill at breakneck speed, and Monster careened blindly behind him, tail high above his head. The prince hardly slowed himself before he fell into the outspread arms of his sister on her way up the road. She laughed and nearly toppled over backward, but Aethelbald reached out and caught them both, steadying them. Felix, much to his disgust, found tears running down his face, and he swiped them away at first, but to no avail. Una laughed again and tried to wipe his cheek with her thumb, but he brushed her off gruffly before whirling her about in another hug.

  Gently Aethelbald parted them and, taking Una by the hand, led her up to Fidel, who waited like a sentinel before the gates of his palace. Aethelbald bowed to him. “I have brought you your daughter, Your Majesty.”

  Fidel took Una’s hand as Aethelbald offered it. He stared at it a moment, small and white in his own. Then he knelt down at Aethelbald’s feet and wept.

  –––––––

  Una, her father, and her brother were too full of joy after their bitter separation to consider the fragility of their position. They clung to each other and laughed and cried and interrupted each other and laughed and cried some more. When at last Prince Aethelbald asked them to follow him into the Wood, they did so without question, still laughing, still crying, and saying words very little worth hearing save for the glad voices in which they were spoken.

  Aethelbald never once let go of Una’s hand.

  He led them into the shadows of the forest and onto a strange path that blurred on the edges of their vision and that seemed almost to carry them as they walked, crossing miles with each step. But they held on to each other and were not afraid as they followed the Prince of Farthestshore away from the ruins of Oriana Palace and the smoke-filled destruction of Sondhold.

  When they emerged from this path, they found themselves far north along the coast and facing the city of Glencrocus.

  Felix looked back the way they had come and did not see the Wood anywhere, and he shivered, not with fear so much as with wonder. Monster, close to his heels, meowled imperiously until Felix picked him up and carried him the rest of the way into Glencrocus.

  The watchers at the city gates hailed the newcomers, and when they learned that King Fidel approached, they sent out word to the mayor. What followed was a time of great commotion as the faithful people of Parumvir rushed to greet Fidel and his children and to carry them safely into the city and on to the mayor’s fine house. But before the rush of servants met them, Prince Aethelbald drew Una aside.

  “I must go,” he said.

  She did not answer, only looked at him.

  “I must find my servants and see to your father’s interests as well.”

  She nodded.

  “But I will return for you, Una. Will you wait for me?”

  Then the crowd was upon them, and people swarmed about the princess and took her hand from Aethelbald’s. She had no time to give him any answer but a smile. This she gave him even as they were pulled apart and she disappeared in the rush that carried her into the city.

  And in the excitement at receiving the lost king and his children, no one noticed the Prince of Farthestshore as he turned and disappeared, vanishing onto his own strange path.

  Una was bustled along through the streets of Glencrocus, losing sight of her father and brother but trusting the jo
yful people about her. She was nearly to the front doorstep of the mayor’s house when a familiar voice grabbed her attention.

  “Una! Princess!”

  She looked back over her shoulder and recognized a funny old face calling and waving from the depths of the crowd. “Nurse!” Una cried and demanded that the old woman be brought to her. The people surged around them and propelled Nurse into Una’s arms, and the two of them stood and hugged each other and cried.

  “Come, Miss Princess,” Nurse said at last with a gruff sniff. “It’s not seemly for a lady of your station to be seen making so much ado over her staff. And in full public eye! What will they all think? Come inside at once, and I’ll see that they fix you a nice bath, ’cause you smell a terrible something, my dear, I ain’t going to lie. . . .”

  –––––––

  Prince Aethelbald did not return for days. During that time, Felix and Una saw very little of their father but stayed together in peaceful company with Monster purring in their laps. Una found she did not wish to tell her brother of her adventures after fleeing Oriana Palace, did not wish to remember them at all.

  Felix, as he sat and stroked the orange cat, frowned a good deal, for every time he opened his mouth to tell his sister all that had happened to him since their parting, the words would not come. His memory clouded and his tongue muddled, and he found he could not discern which of his adventures were real and which were dreamed.

  So they spoke very little, each simply enjoying the presence of the other.

  “Are you going to marry Aethelbald?” Felix asked four days after their coming to Glencrocus as they sat in Una’s chambers beside the empty fireplace. Though the weather was somewhat cold, Una discovered that she did not like to order a fire in her rooms but preferred to wrap up in blankets. Felix and Monster complained noisily at this, but she was immoveable.

  “Marry Aethelbald?” Una said with something like a smile. “I don’t know.”

  Felix snorted.

  “Don’t snort at me, Felix. It’s not seemly.”

  “You’re going to marry him, aren’t you?”

  “Perhaps. None of your business if I do.”

  “Is so my business! Do you have any idea what kind of getup they’ll stuff me into for your wedding if you get married?” He sighed. “They’ll bejewel me – that’s what they’ll do. All the more after what’s happened. Must you get married, Una?”

  Una smiled again and did not answer.

  “Why is this fool cat sitting in my lap and not yours?” Felix pushed Monster from his knee, crossed his legs, and folded his arms across his chest. Monster meowed irritably and started grooming a paw.

  “Una,” Felix said without bothering to soften the scowl on his face.

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll miss you when you’re gone. A little.”

  Una reached across and took her brother’s hand, squeezing gently and smiling at his refusal to meet her gaze. “I love you too, Felix.”

  –––––––

  When Aethelbald returned the following day, he did not come alone. He came in company with his remaining knights, Sir Oeric and Sir Imoo, and the surviving host from the Northern Fortress – including, to King Fidel’s delight, General Argus, who, though wounded, was still very much alive. The king embraced his general with great joy and was almost too distracted to pay attention to what else the Prince of Farthestshore brought with him.

  The treasures of Oriana Palace, which had been scattered about the courtyard the night of the Dragon’s last fire, were not all destroyed. In fact, Aethelbald and his servants bore to Glencrocus the bulk of it unscathed, and the royal treasure stores were regained. Thus Fidel was assured that, though weakened, he would have the strength and resources to reestablish his kingdom to its former glory.

  But some things were never restored. The palace on Goldstone Hill, filled with dragon smoke and burned with dragon fire, was left to crumble in ruins, never to be rebuilt. And the ruins along Sondhold Harbor, though one day at last built back up as a prosperous fishing village, were never restored to the former prestige of Parumvir’s capital city.

  Una sat beside her father when he received Prince Aethelbald and the gifts he brought. After showing King Fidel the treasures, Aethelbald turned to the princess and bowed before her. Then he said, “I found something else as well, my lady. Cup your hands.” She did as he asked, and he dropped something into her grasp.

  It was an opal ring, gleaming with its own fire.

  She looked up at him, and he smiled. “Courtesy of Farthestshore,” he said.

  “Prince Aethelbald.” She dropped her gaze, cursing the red blotches as they exploded across her nose but forcing herself to speak anyway. “I would be . . . I think I should like you to keep it. If you would.”

  He knelt before her, and she pressed the ring back into his hands.

  Still unable to look at him, Una whispered, “Will you be leaving soon?

  Returning to Farthestshore, that is?”

  “Yes,” he said. Then suddenly he squeezed her hands tight, and she could feel every eye in the whole assembly pinned on her and the Prince, and she just knew they were counting the blotches, every last one. Aethelbald said, “But if you will marry me, Princess Una, I will take you with me.”

  She met his gaze then and smiled at him, and red blotches aside, those who watched the scene thought they had never seen their princess more beautiful.

  “I’ll have to think about it,” she said.

  Felix snorted and rolled his eyes. “Applebald!” he muttered, and all the courtiers gathered in that room sent a gale of gossip flying back and forth.

  39

  Princess Una of Parumvir and Prince Aethelbald of Farthestshore were married beside the sea. Una, much to Nurse’s disgust, refused to wear the ornate, many-layered gown designed especially for her by the Parumvir fashion experts. She chose instead a simple gown of white without ornaments or jewels, and rather than a crown, she wore flowers in her hair.

  To salve their wounded dignity, those selfsame tailors pounced upon the Prince of Parumvir, and Felix – as he’d suspected would be his fate – was stuffed into the stiffest, most choking of lace collars, complete with little jewels dripping along the edges, a set of sleeves so puffy and slashed with scarlet silk that he thought he might tip over if they weren’t perfectly balanced out by yet more dangling jewels, and a pair of shoes that curled at the toes. He nearly fainted several times during the ceremony for lack of breath.

  But to his relief, no one noticed Felix in the grandeur of the company present. Sir Oeric and Sir Imoo stood to one side of Prince Aethelbald, Sir Oeric huge and craggy as a mountain, Sir Imoo black as night with starlike eyes. Beyond them Felix saw a host of other people, some of whom disappeared in certain light, only to reappear momentarily in all their shining strangeness. Felix thought he glimpsed a black-bearded king no taller than a rabbit, who stood beside a queen of equal height with hair so long and so golden that it looked like a river of liquid gold. At one moment, he could have sworn he saw a girl in green sitting on the back of a giant frog; then a moment later he believed he saw a boy no older than five leading a white lion on a leash like a puppy. Felix glimpsed also a man with a swan’s head, a flame-orange tiger, a woman with cat’s eyes, and many, many more.

  Except, when he blinked, he didn’t see anyone but the Prince and his two knights and all the gathered people of Parumvir dressed in brilliant colors. He pulled at the tight collar around his neck and wished to heaven some horrible disease would take all the fashion experts of Parumvir and prevent them from ever designing anything again.

  “There you are!” a voice whispered fiercely in the middle of the ceremony. Felix took a surreptitious glance over his shoulder toward the nonexistent crowd beyond the Prince, and saw a young woman with a dark face and darker hair and slightly crooked teeth. He thought for one moment that she spoke to him, but realized the next that she was scowling down at his feet. He followed her gaze to where Mo
nster sat, tail curled primly about his paws, one ear cocked back as the woman spoke.

  “Where have you been all these years, wretched beast?” the woman said, edging closer.

  The cat turned his other ear back, twitched the end of his tail, then bolted off into the crowd, vanishing from Felix’s sight.

  Felix turned to look at the young woman again, but she was gone. Fidel, standing beside his son, nudged Felix in the ribs, and the boy quickly faced forward once more, trying to focus his attention on the ceremony. He thought perhaps he knew that woman from somewhere, sometime. From long ago perhaps, or maybe from a dream?

  At last the ceremony was complete. As Aethelbald took his bride in his arms, many voices rose into the air, flying from the sea and from the wind and from all around, a thousand voices as beautiful and wild as starlight and moonlight. And they sang:

  “Beyond the final water falling,

  The Songs of Spheres recalling,

  When the sun descends behind the twilit sky,

  Won’t you follow me?”

  Felix, standing beside his father, looked out to the sea and almost, but not quite, saw the Faerie beings he knew swam among the waves. Their voices pricked his memory again with some lingering impression of . . . of what? A promise and a kind smile and a silver pitcher of clear water. Strange images of high mountains and shafts of light through green leaves, of a woman clothed in lavender and green. It was all too strange, and he shook these thoughts away with a frown. Perhaps he’d think of them again tomorrow.

  Una, as she stood back from her husband’s embrace, looked out to the ocean and for the first time saw the Faerie beings in the water, their hair glowing like fire. The sea unicorns raised their heads from the foam and gleamed like so many suns as they sang.

  “Do they sing for you?” she asked her husband.

  “They rejoice with me,” Aethelbald said, tucking her hand through his arm. “For you are mine now. Forever.”