Matthew Wilson
It took Marion an hour to scale the cliff.
Then she groaned as she fell onto the skeletal mess that had been a man, wiped herself off and stood up in the nest. The three dragon eggs she had spied earlier hadn’t hatched yet. Carefully, trying to cool her thumping heart, she moved across the straw filled home for monsters and scooped one up. If she sold this at market then she would never have to hunt again. Marion stopped thinking when a shadow fell over the sun and took away its warmth.
Mommy was home.
Marion moved without thinking, throwing herself like a ball of muddy washing behind a scorched knight’s body. She sucked in her stomach so no bit of her was poking over the corpse and Marion told herself to be calm. When the dragon was resting from its long flight in the city, maybe snacking on some unfortunate maiden it had acquired, she could –
“Let me go,” the boy demanded. “Do you know who my mother is?”
Marion felt her body jump as a great weight shook the nest and the beast landed, throbbed its wings once and shook cloud moisture from off its ebon scales. Irate, the boy clutched in her claws shook a fist and demanded to be released.
“You can’t snatch someone up like a pebble and fly them halfway round the world. Who do you think you are?”
Marion felt her heart hitch – she had seen the dragon meal’s face on money – he was a prince. A cute one at that.
“You there, girl!” the prince cried out. “Go tell my mother where I am – she’ll be appalled.” Marion sighed and recognized a great distraction when she saw one. She would flee with a fortune in dragon eggs and the world would be free of a spoilt prince. A cute one at that.
Marion sat up, raised her rifle and fired a hot trio of lead at the creature’s underside. Startled, the animal roared and dropped its morning meal.
“Ouch, be careful,” the prince demanded but Marion took no notice. Hissing hate, the snarling dragon was coming at her and Marion knew she could not kill it with this paltry weapon. But she could easily penetrate the shell of its baby’s eggs. The dragon stopped when Marion picked up an egg.
“Hey, princey, get over here.”
“Oh, girl. Look at my trousers – I’ll never get the scuffs out.”
“Did being kidnapped make you deaf? Move it.”
Marion saw the hunger in the dragon’s Sulphur eyes. She knew if she hurt its babies, then mommy would follow her to the ends of the earth. Marion only needed six feet. The creature roared as Marion threw the egg over her shoulder and ran past the dragon who chased after it.
“What are you doing? Unhand me,” the prince said as Marion grabbed his hand and yanked. “If you’re not careful, we’re gonna fall.”
Marion didn’t need to turn round to know the creature had saved its baby.
There would be no tender reunion. No sweet lullaby to rock her egg enclosed baby back to sleep.
Mommy would want revenge.
“Excellent idea,” Marion threw her arms around the prince and pushed herself forward with her toes.
Gravity resisted for a moment and then they tumbled over the nest edge into an abyss below.
I didn’t know princes knew swear words like that, Marion thought.
And then when they hit the ocean below, Marion thought nothing more.
Marion had never met a queen before – true – she had killed the self described queen of vampires but that nut case was long dead after the seventh try. But today was not one for bad memories – now was Marion’s parade day. The hero that saved an ungrateful prince. He hadn’t even allowed her a kiss.
“Welcome,” Cantanna beckoned as the street parade reached the gates of her palace. The trumpets faded away, the boisterous crowd fell into an excited hush as the girl who had killed a dragon returned to them their prince. Marion didn’t feel it was right to correct them on the killing thing until she had her reward. What an ugly old witch, Marion thought and forced a smile. The queen had a quick handshake as if she feared she would catch something from the outsider.
“Hi.”
“So you’re the one who saved my boy, thank you, child.”
I’m sixteen, Marion thought but didn’t say. After the queen handed her her body weight in gold then Marion could punch her lights out for any offence. Truly, she stood awed in the presence of such opulence. Before today she hadn’t eaten in days – hunger would make a hunter do crazy things.
Like sneaking into a dragon’s nest to steal its eggs.
“Is it okay if I see the prince? It’s a miracle we survived that fall – ”
“There is time for that,” Cantanna promised. “But first there are tables full of food to clear and a fine bed for you to sleep in.”
Marion felt her cheeks burn, unused to comfort. “Well, that does sound lovely.”
“Certainly,” Cantanna’s lips stretched to a smile. “Your journey back here was long and your reward long overdue. Ellena.”
“Shit,” Marion flinched when a tall woman came at her to take her coat. “I mean hello.”
The tall woman had rings around her neck and jealousy in her eyes. “Your coat,” she said. “Give it to me.”
Marion felt a million eyes on her. Though a thousand monsters had tried, she had never lost, let alone surrendered her coat and the weapons hitched onto the insides before.
“C – can I keep the pistols?”
“You’re a riot, child.” Cantanna praised and took Marion’s hand. She felt herself floating, being pulled behind like a limp balloon as the old queen dragged her along. At the top of the stairs was a figure.
The prince seemed to resist the urge to fold his arms like a petulant child. This ceremony stuff was beneath him. He had better things to do than thank his savior.
“James – don’t you have anything to say?” The prince looked at the floor, unable to bear the weight of his mother’s gaze.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Prince’s don’t mumble,” Cantanna corrected. “Stand straight, boy. I raised you better.”
The prince complied with a sigh and a repeat of his thanks. Distracted, Marion was sure he had said something but his moving lips were very sweet. Again she would have traded her reward for a kiss. “Splendid,” Cantanna smiled again with effort. “Now let’s start the celebration before our feast gets cold.”
Glorious, as only queens could, Cantanna escorted her son and Marion into the castle. Outside girls were always trouble, Cantanna knew.
She would have to kill them both all the sooner.
Marion didn’t like the dream – true – it had all been wonderful when under the queen’s orders, prince James had danced with Marion in the ballroom, smelling much better than he had in that blood drenched dragon nest.
Then there had been feasting and drinking – the fourth of which had left a nasty taste in Marion’s mouth. The room had spun once and she had passed out. How strong was the ale here?
“Ow – my head – where am I?” Marion coughed and closed her mouth before she puked. She was outside, slung over a horse like a strange shaped saddle. But why were her hands tied? Where was the prince and her reward?
“Oh, you’re alive,” a tall woman giggled on her horse. “You must have a strong tolerance to poison.”
“Poi – wot?” Marion’s stomach grumbled painfully and the uninterested stars in the purple tinted sky spun wildly and her restarted brain registered the fact she was falling. Her lungs blasted out air as she hit the rocky mountainside and her startled horse fled.
“Well, this is a good place for an execution,” the tall woman supposed. “It’s too cold out here to bury you as far as the queen would like.” None of the woman’s words made sense and though her hands were tied, Marion could still wipe her bloodied eyes. Her captor retained the silver rings around her neck and a glare of jealousy in her purple eyes.
For a moment, Marion sat, stupefied and then when the moon came out from behind a membrane of grey cloud, she recognized a beaten shape on the back of the tall woman’s horse.
“James? What’s she doing with us?” The tall woman hardly had to lean out of her saddle before she was standing on her extra sized boots.
“Only what my queen commands of me – you’re in the way of her greatness, girl.” Marion tried to stand and succeeded on the third try. “Do NOT call me girl.”
“Would you prefer princess? I saw how you looked at sleeping beauty here – did you think you had any chance with him? A peasant like you?.” Marion heard a gasp and briefly forgot how to breathe when the tall woman raised a pistol and in the returning moonlight, Marion immediately recognized the ivory colored handles her mother had cut from a unicorn’s head. I’m not being killed by my own bloody weapon, she thought.
“Wait, don’t – at least tell me why?”
The tall woman laughed strangely as if she had little experience in the action. “Why?” She giggled again. “You’ll be dead in a moment – ow!”
James howled in agony as he clasped his hands together like a praying man and drove them both hard into the spot behind his would be murderer’s ear. She stumbled but didn’t fall. The princes’ manicured fingers had never lifted a rock in his life and now they almost broke on hitting something of equal hardness.
“You little fool. I should have broken your skull while you slept -”
The tall woman stopped talking when Marion raised the rock above her head and brought it down with all her might upon her opponent’s head. There was a terrible crunching sound. A falling of a corpse, and then Marion was the only one standing, a living victor above her dead opponent.
“I always recognize a distraction when I see one,” Marion said and thanked the prince. “I guess that makes us even. But you still owe me a story.”
Even after they had eaten the scraps and let the fire go out, Marion sat, saddened at the boy’s misery.
“I always knew my mother didn’t love me – but to hate me so much,” he lamented. “God, I was blind.”
Marion didn’t jump when a wolf howled distantly at the moon. Despite their proximity to a corpse, it was very calm out here. The prince’s eyes were so lovely.
“She told me now I was sixteen it was my time to rule – but she didn’t like that. She said she poisoned my father and now it was my turn to be out of the way so she arranged for me to be kidnapped by that dragon. She told me many awful things.”
Marion cursed as she rubbed two bits of stone together but got no spark. Her fingers tingled with the coming cold of night. She opened some bullets from her coat and spilled the gunpowder inside into a tiny pile like a black molehill. She would have to restart a fire the old way.
“I’ll have to run away,” James fretted. “Somewhere so far that she’ll never find me.”
“If your momma dearest is that set on being the only ruler then she won’t let this lie,” Marion had met people of great power and resources before. “She’ll send an army into hell to find us.”
James screeched once when Marion discharged her pistol into a pile of gunpowder and started throwing little sticks onto the growing flame.
“Us?” he asked. Marion tried to laugh but felt a sudden sympathy for the prince. What happened next would be horrible for him but necessary. Kill or be killed.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Marion said. “But there’s only one way out of this – we’ll have to kill her first. Otherwise you’ll never be safe.”
James opened his mouth as if to argue but the late hour took the fight out of him. He settled, stared at the crackling flames and gave a small nod.
“Alright, I’m in,” he submitted to his survival. Marion smiled and started reloading her pistols.
Never mind the vampire queen – after all these years, she was finally going to kill a human one.
Three days later, Marion disliked the city by night just as much as she had by day. The celebratory tape and balloons had been taken down. In fact a dark cloud had fallen over the city since the announcement of the prince’s death.
Scarlet fever.
Something sudden, silent and completely contagious so the body had to be burnt immediately after. No autopsy. No public viewing to mourn him. For their safety the disease and his flesh had been burned away.
Naturally the queen was upset but strong. She would handle the pain and continue to rule.
Alone.
“You’re sure you can get us in there?” James had never been outside the palace this long and late. The evening city excited and terrified him. Marion drew her cloak tighter around herself, missing the heat of the day. “Of course, I’m not just here for my good looks. I want compensation for this when you’re a king,” Marion said, aiming the crossbow, fitted with a bolt attached to rope. “This contraction cost me a pretty penny.”
“I’m not a monkey,” James said, pointing to a lit window under which the arrowhead had punched into. “I can’t climb up there.”
“Some men do great deeds to become king – I’m only asking you to do a little exercise and show me the way to your mom’s chamber. Now’s your moment – just close your eyes and keep going.”
Marion told him not to look down as they slowly forced one hand in front of the other and left the ground but when the rope started shaking violently, she knew the prince was trembling.
“Take it easy now, stay with me.”
Halfway up, she could hear weary guards moan around small campfires to keep off the night’s nip. They spoke of home and the dead prince.
Marion knew it would be useless to offer him as proof – they would never believe their queen could lie. This “imposter” would be imprisoned, maybe executed.
“Marion, why are you helping me?” James asked.
“I – I don’t think this is the best time to talk about this,” Marion replied. She had never had trouble with heights but suddenly her stomach started bubbling.
“Forgive my rambling. I’m just hesitating – she’s still my mother.”
“Just show me where she sleeps,” Marion tried to keep her voice even but her stinging fingers started to release from the rope.
“Up here,” James reached for her when he finally pulled himself through the window.
Fine flags of conquered countries lined the hallway that Marion found herself inside. Such criminals as the queen enjoyed their privacy so as James had promised the presence of guards were light up here.
“Third door past the gong,” he whispered. “Turn the knob counterclockwise – mother likes her booby traps.”
Marion nodded and complied. The grand bedroom was dark but moonlight from the window drenched over a shape in the solitary bed.
“Marion – do we have to -”
“She’s evil,” Marion reached on her belt for a dagger.
“Maybe we can have her arrested -”
“Sure,” Marion interrupted again. “I’m sure her lap dogs will totally throw her into a prison at our say – so. Wait here. I’ll make it quick.”
Marion stopped advancing when the lights came on with a rudeness that blinded her and when the white dots left her dazzled eyes, she realized that the shapes on the bed were just pillows.
“Well,” Cantanna growled from a chair in the corner, displeased to be up at this late hour. “You took your time getting here.”
“Mother,” James cried out in surprise.
“You’re no son of mine,” the queen saw no threat from the boy, her whole attention was saved for the girl with the knife.
Marion stiffened, her body a tight spring ready to break free from advancing goons but the queen was alone. This prospect frightened Marion as no good royal got their own hand dirty.
What trick do you have up your night sleeves?
“Where are your slaves?” Marion asked.
The queen giggled and lay down the glass of port she stirred idly with a long fingernail.
“Oh, there would be many questions if the guards saw what happened next – they might think less of me.”
“I know you sent that dragon after me,” James said in disbelief. “How could you do that?”
Cantanna stood and Marion disliked the confidence in her voice. She seemed unarmed but carried herself as if she was the strongest person in the room.
“Fool – humans have no power over dragons. They can’t send them letters like a penpal to ask for some favor. Dragons take and kill what is in their way and you have been in my way long enough.”
Marion pulled James behind her as the queen spread her blackening arms. They discolored like rotten flesh and then hardened with scales. Marion heard ripping at the queen’s spine elongated and tore through her bed clothes. Foul smoke coiled around the queen’s feet, her toes clicked with talons and broke the tiles as the ground struggled to support the sudden weight of a dragon.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Marion huffed when she recognized the monster from the nest so long ago. She rugby tackled James to the floor as the transforming thing opened her mouth and filled the room with fire.
“Here,” Marion yelled, pushing herself up like a dog after water, she and James darted behind an ornate stone pillar marked with royal jewels.
“God, your mother’s a cow,” Marion said and raised the dagger she still had in one hand. When she caught the ceiling light in its reflection, she could see the dragon was coming at her, its long neck snaking eagerly forward.
“I – I thought she was a dragon,” James said dumbly. “A – am I a dragon?”
“We’ll find you a good shrink after I kill her,” Marion felt a heavy shove in her back that knocked the air out of her lungs. The dragon laughed, its bloodied head shook away the dust and broken stone parts of the column it had battered against.
The fractured column teetered but didn’t fall.
“Oh, god, my bones,” Marion coughed up something that she didn’t wish to see but she knew she had to get up, to keep moving now the dragon had shook James out from under the rock he had scurried under.
“Mother, wait,” James said. “Don’t do this, I’m your son.”
The dragon’s tongue poked between her fangs like an eel between sharp rocks. The creature’s sides rattled and it seemed to the young prince that his mother was trying to laugh in a form that hadn’t evolved for it. The dragon filled its mouth with fire and opened her jaws to boil his bones. Marion gave a blood curdling scream as she ran at the half broken column with all her might. Her shoulder popped out of its socket as she threw all her weight against it but the bits of plaster barely hanging it up snapped off. The column surrendered to gravity and toppled over.
“Mother, watch out,” James cried out, despite himself. He closed his eyes a moment before the heavy thing landed on the dragon’s skull and crushed it like a bug beneath a heel. I wish I had one of these things in that nest, Marion thought, felt the room spin twice but resisted the desire to pass out into painless sleep.
Someone owed her a kiss.
“Well, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Marion smiled. “I always recognize a good distraction when I see one.”