“Is he serious?” Inzashu asked.
“Rarely,” her sister said.
It was King N’chala, relieved at last of his retinue of advisors, nobles, army generals and brothers. Without preamble, he launched into a prepared speech.
“I apologise for my brevity, but I’m late for my next meeting already. As you advised, the Skartunese remnant are indeed moving East, closing in upon the citadels there.” He scratched his neck, and heaved a sigh. “Please bear with me. One, I’m sorry I was harsh earlier, Azania and Dragon, but I am finding my way in terms of trusting people. This is a difficult time for the kingdom and also personally, as you can imagine. Two, when you leave, I would be most grateful if your flight path could veer toward the Kingdom of Amboraine.”
Azania said, “Amboraine? Oh, Princess Yuali?”
“Exactly.” Deftly extracting two small message scrolls out of a belt pouch, he said, “I’d be indebted if you could deliver this scroll to Princess Yuali, and this one to the King. Obviously, current events will be making a mess of our wedding plans. I wish her to know that I truly care for her, but making that commitment – could you phrase this nicely – is somewhat challenging, just now.”
Azania nodded. “Consider it done. You’re forgiven. I was brash.”
“And I was rude. Three, I need you to take Inzashu-N’shula with you when you leave – tonight, that is. You must leave tonight.”
They exchanged startled glances.
Dragon said, “The Princess is hardly in fit shape –”
N’chala shook his head. “I’ve received word of a Skartunese plot against your life, sister. I am so sorry, since we’ve hardly had the chance to get to know one another. I know no better way of protecting you than to dispatch you abroad with this Dragon.”
Inzashu said, “I wanted to stay to protect you, brother.”
Though his face was graven of sorrow, the new King tried to smile. He gave up, saying between gritted teeth, “Thank you, but I could not stand to lose more family. Not now.”
Chapter 3: Aloft
PRINCESS AZANIA TUCKED HER younger but taller sister into bed with a kiss upon the forehead that Dragon thought looked like an experiment in affection.
“Now, I know it’s next to impossible, but please do try to get a couple of hours’ sleep, sister. We’ll wake you when it’s time to fly.”
“I guess I get to be kidnapped after all,” the girl said sleepily.
He rumbled, “Not sure if that’s by the wicked Princess or the devious Dragon.”
Worth a giggle.
Dragon sniffed around the rich bedchamber and glared balefully over the balcony at the royal gardens below. Nothing to like about this whiff of a plot. He could not for the life of him pin down the sense that somehow, somewhere, something was profoundly awry. Obviously. No clear vector of attack presented itself to his questing senses.
Gnarr. He would lie right next to the bed while they waited. Nothing and nobody would get past him.
Eventually, Azania finished packing their few possessions to her satisfaction. She buckled his neck saddle in place and tried to work out how to place one in position behind it, so that she could be close to her sister during flight.
“Why don’t you lie down?” he said eventually. “It’ll be a long night. I’ll keep watch.”
“Hour after midnight?”
“Done.”
Despite his better intentions, Dragon’s multiple eyelids all felt weighted with sand. He growled at himself to keep alert. Tucked in beside her sister, his dark Princess fell asleep between breaths. Should have thought to pack extra bandages. Rising, he padded over to the linen cupboard and stole a set of the kingdom’s finest silk sheets, suitable for royalty.
Some royalty claimed silken sheets made them itch …
His eyes narrowed. Itch? Just look at Inzashu-N’shula, who was not dreaming as he had imagined. She was scratching her arms, her legs, her neck, moaning in her sleep as she thrashed about and turned over, half-waking her sister with an accidental elbow to the nose.
Ah, the royal snout – he pulled up in surprise as Azania moaned in just the same fashion and began to scratch at her neck. Itching that madly?
By his sire’s egg, what … fire imploded in his belly.
“Poison! Wake up – wake up!”
Something in the sheets. A subtle white powder – ripping the covers off the Princesses, Dragon examined them as best he could. Rash! A fiery rash covered both girls upon their skin where it had been left exposed by their clothing. No! Don’t panic. Think. Powder. Water – the bathing chamber! Scooping up the sisters as they woke in shock, he charged literally through the doors of the royal bedchamber in an explosion of splinters and promptly skidded on the marble and hit the wall so hard the entire Palace reverberated. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he belted down the corridor.
“What the – my skin!” Azania gasped. Her sister started screaming.
“Poison!”
“Into the bathtub,” he cried, smashing through the next set of doors. Flimsy wooden screen. In a second, he dunked both girls in the half-full tub of salty water he had used before. “Quick. Rub your arms. Get it off your necks.”
“Blub,” said Inzashu.
He fished the younger girl out with a clumsy paw. Drowning her was not the point. She vomited at once, clutching her stomach with a loud groan. Azania did the same. Dragon urged them to wash as much as they could. Soap, too.
Azania called, “Dragon, could you fetch the pot of aloe cream from my dresser?”
Wretched girl. She looked as terrible as she sounded. When he returned with the stoneware pot, she thanked him for his quick thinking. Clearly, the real boon had been their travel clothes, he thought pensively. Had they been wearing
