Трой Деннинг: The Veiled Dragon

The witch landed amidst a shower of snapped planks and beams, her body erupting into pain despite the cushioning of the soft furniture favored by Elversult merchants. She lay a long time without moving, half-expecting Cypress’s scorched skull to appear above her at any moment. Instead, the yellow glow and fiery pain faded from her mind and, much to her surprise, so did the lasal haze—no doubt burned off by the ferocity of the dragon’s attack. At length, the terrible aching in her body also faded, and she began to realize that, other than the dull throbbing of a few new bruises, she had survived the fall uninjured.

Ruha clambered out of the debris and found herself standing amidst the ruins of the mansion’s top story, where the family’s servants and young children had once kept their chambers. She picked her way toward the front of the building, too dazed to think about what she was doing, and discovered that this floor of Baldagar Manor now held nothing but the shattered remnants of the inhabitants’ belongings, two dozen groaning Maces, and the smoking, mangled corpse of a ten-foot river monitor.

As the witch’s ears stopped ringing, she grew aware of a loud, chugging roar coming from the direction of the water. She rushed forward, then climbed over a collapsed wall onto what had once been a private balcony overlooking Hillshadow Lake. In the center of the lake, a murky green waterspout was stretching skyward, as though trying to grasp a small whirlwind with flashing ribbons of silver and black luminescence.

Ruha heard someone clattering over the collapsed wall behind her. She turned to see Pierstar Hallowhand’s battered form limping toward her, his eyes fixed on the waterspout in the center of the lake.

“What’s that?” he croaked.

“That?” The witch whispered an incantation and raised her hand, then started to spin her finger in the direction opposite the whirlwind. The vortex began to lose speed, and the two ribbons came apart. The silver light circled the shoreline once, then streaked away toward the Jailgates and vanished from sight. The black one was caught by the waterspout and dragged into Hillshadow Lake, where it darkened the water only briefly before sinking into the muddy bottom. “That was nothing—a fool for love, I fear.”

Even the Shou did not have a table with enough sides for all those at the Great Banquet of Apology, so the servants had set the platters of candied duck and ginger hart upon a round table and arranged seven chairs around it in evenly spaced intervals. Prince Tang himself welcomed each guest at the door, and when Yanseldara entered the room, he produced a long oaken staff with three gnarled fingers gripping the finest ruby from his personal treasury. He held it before him and bowed very low.

“I find this in dragon’s lair, Lady Yanseldara,” he said. “I am sorry that I must smash original topaz.”

Yanseldara accepted the staff with a sincere smile. “The topaz was ruined by Cypress’s touch, and I thank you for crushing it. I accept this magnificent ruby as a token of the new friendship between the Ginger Palace and Elversult. I shall treasure it always.”

Vaerana rolled her eyes, then leaned close to Ruha and, in a voice much too loud, whispered, “I’ll treasure it more if they really stop selling poison!”

The servants gasped, and Lady Feng shot an indignant scowl in the Lady Constable’s direction. Hsieh quickly stepped forward and smoothed matters over by personally taking Vaerana’s arm.

“If we are all here, perhaps we sit down.” The procession filed somewhat uncomfortably to the table, where the mandarin scowled and turned to Prince Tang. “I see seven chairs, but only six guests.”

The prince pointed to a chair with no goblet or flatware. “This is for Lady Ruha’s friend, Captain Fowler. It is most unfortunate he cannot join us.”

The explanation only drew a deeper scowl from Hsieh. “It is not for Princess Wei Dao?”

Tang’s jaw fell. “She dishonors Ginger Palace! I do not set place in her memory!”

Hsieh’s uncovered eye narrowed in what Ruha now recognized as a well-practiced expression of displeasure. “Wei Dao is Shou princess. Trouble she cause in Elversult is of no consequence to Emperor, so it is appropriate to treat her as well as you treat guests.”

Before the stupefied prince could respond, the mandarin spun to face Lady Feng, who was holding Winter Blossom on her shoulder and casting covetous glances at the golden serving platters. According to rumor, she had developed a distressing habit of sneaking off to Cypress’s swamp with the Ginger Palace’s finest tableware.

“I must offer condolences, Lady Feng,” Hsieh said. “Most High Emperor sends me to invite you to Tai Tung, but your son’s bad manners do not make that possible.”

Prince Tang looked first insulted, then relieved. He forced a grave expression and bowed to the mandarin. “Please to pardon, but I never honor Wei Dao at my table.”

“Then you never return to Shou Lung.”

Tang could not keep from smiling. He turned to Ruha and asked, “Perhaps you sit next to me? I never return to Emperor’s court, so perhaps you consider becoming my Princess?”

“I—uh—Brave Prince, I don’t know what to say,” Ruha stammered. Since his return from the dragon’s lair, Tang had shown himself to be a gracious and gallant man, but the witch was not in love with him. “I will be pleased to sit with you, but perhaps we should discuss the rest at another time.”

Hsieh frowned, almost angrily, and stepped toward the witch. “Surely you accept. It is great honor to be Shou princess!”

Ruha’s heart sank. Normally, the Harpers would not dictate the person she married, but these were hardly normal circumstances; Storm Silverhand would look very unfavorably on starting trouble with the Shou. The witch glanced around the room and saw Vaerana watching her carefully, as though she expected Ruha to start a war at any moment.

It was Yanseldara who broke the silence. “Before Ruha decides, perhaps you should give her that message, Vaerana.”

The Lady Constable rolled her eyes, then turned to Ruha. “I almost forgot, Witch,” she said, a roguish grin upon her lips. “Storm sent for you this morning. Some giants up in Oak Dale stole a duke’s daughter, and she doesn’t think anyone else can bring the girl back alive.”

Ruha did not know whether to hit Vaerana or hug her. “When did you plan to tell me? After my wedding?”

“I don’t think Storm can wait that long.” Vaerana chuckled, then took something from her pocket and pressed it into the witch’s hand. It was the Harper pin Ruha had given to Captain Fowler. “I suppose you’ll be needing this.”

“I suppose I will.” Ruha pinned the signet inside her aba , then turned to Tang, who looked almost as amused as he did disappointed. “I’m sorry, Brave Prince, but I cannot stay. You know I am a Harper, and Harpers go where they are needed.”