Macster - The Last Dragon

But nothing was roasting over the fire this evening, although the cheery, crackling flames did blaze brightly between the massive andirons, giving off wafting smoke of fragrant pine, cedar, and hickory. And while the room was empty of guests and courtiers, hunters and trappers, and the maple table extending down its length lay bare, a celebration of a different sort had just taken place on the hearthstone.

Sighing contentedly, Virginia lay intertwined in the arms of Wolf, wrapped up in the thick fur of a bearskin rug as she inhaled the heady fragrances and gazed up at the room around her. The walls and ceiling were built of heavy granite, the blocks smooth and snugly fitted, in much better repair than the facade of the hunting lodge, with ponderous beams, studs, and joists of teak and ebony lending further support. Rich tapestries of the finest weavings and cloths draped the chamber, glowing with dyes that had not lost their vividness over the centuries. She had studied them earlier, seeing the generations of Charmings and Whites setting off on grand hunts and returning laden with the animals and beasts they had slain, all depicted in stylized embroideries that put her in mind of the Bayeux Tapestry. Mythical creatures filled the images as well: fairies flitting about the forest, frozen on exquisite wings captured in breathtaking detail; griffins rampant and unicorns rearing in majesty; and dragons wheeling against azure skies. In one particular sequence of scenes, a dragon was stabbed through the heart by a knight's gleaming sword, then borne toward what looked like Castle White, carried by thousands of men with lashed saplings.

Virginia tried to banish those images from her mind, but she could not. Nor could she deny that she was irrevocably bound to those atrocities by her own bloodline. This was her heritage, those historical figures in the tapestries were her ancestors, she was a Charming and a White herself. The deaths of all dragons committed by her house were her legacy, her responsibility, her burden. And here of all places she could not forget it. Everywhere she looked lay a reminder--here a carving of the seal of the House of White, there an interwoven C and W embossed in gold, and there above the fireplace the biggest symbol of all, the escutcheon bearing the royal coat-of-arms: two male lions sparring on hind legs on the dexter, and a flourishing apple tree on the sinister, with a crown and ribbons overlapping the middle. The hunting lodge reeked of history and duty, courage and valor, bravery and challenge--but also guilt and ruin, cruelty and pain, hate and intolerance. It was a good thing Daviander could not fit inside after all, so he did not have to see what lay within...although he surely knew it was there.

Snuggling into Wolf's chest, she turned her gaze away, into the depths of the flames where the heat grew so intense white turned to translucent, as if she could ignite and consume her emotions--her regret, her worries, her confusion, her empathy. So much was riding on her success, so much had been placed on her shoulders, and still she did not know if she had done enough. And the journey back to the Fourth Kingdom had swirled with these emotions, most of them centered around Daviander. What an enigma he was...just when she thought she had him figured out he went off on a tangent, did something unpredictable that made him impossible to comprehend.

At first she had been angry at him, and Wolf, for concealing the truth about the silver lining, but at the campfire that first night Wolf had explained to her in more detail how the magic worked, and why it had been so necessary to keep her untainted and innocent of the truth, and how he had known all along she would not make the wrong choice. After all, she had resisted the lure of the Golden River Gold Fish, and while the shoes had tempted her and enthralled her will, that had been more about insecurity and shyness than greed, and in any case she had proven on this quest that the shoes had no more power over her. Once Wolf had explained it all, she had been touched anew by his faith in her and relented. But this had not been the end of the problems with Daviander, for not only did she never tell the dragon she understood his choices and motivations, she had also inadvertantly driven Daviander away.

Clutching the bearskin closer, like a security blanket, Virginia closed her eyes and tried to forget those mournful blue eyes, gazing at her with such sorrow, loneliness, and disappointment. She had tried not to do it, she had sworn she wouldn't, but she had been uncertain how to draw him into conversation, and her talks with Wolf had been incredibly important. The first had not really solved anything, but it had established groundwork, allowed her to see how truly important it was to Wolf that he build her a home here in the Kingdoms. Ever since they'd returned to New York she had known this day would come, that she could not keep Wolf trapped in her world forever. It had preyed on her mind, haunted her with its certainty. It was not that she longed to remain in New York, it no longer seemed to be her home anymore; her time away from it, and the changes inside her heart, had added a luster of new magic when she and Wolf came back through the mirror, but the true magic lay here in the Nine Kingdoms, where her heart belonged.

But still, the comforts of familiarity and her own hesitancy about leaping into the unknown had held her back. Yet in the end she knew she would agree. Her father lived here, her cousin and stepbrother Wendell ruled here, this was her native soil. And Wolf, she wanted him to be happy. He belonged here too. She could not blame him for insisting on this new home so he could keep watch over her always, for overreacting to the Faye Wray impersonation the ogre had forced on her.

And his distress and fear had also stemmed from the way she had treated him in the fox burrow, first berating him for trying to protect her, then admitting she had slipped and shown attraction to another man. That was why their second conversation had been even more crucial. She'd had to reassure him again, to show him she was loyal. Not because he still doubted her fidelity, he had insisted he forgave her for having other lovers before him. No, it was because it was the right thing to do. After being cold for so long, she was compelled to drown Wolf in the warmth of her heart. And by reaffirming their vows, she had stressed how she no longer feared marriage, that she would not back out of it at the last minute. For the first time she believed it, she believed in it. She'd realized, as she knelt beside the fire their second night, that she had avoided marriage like the plague, not just because of her fear of abandonment, but because she truly didn't understand what it meant. Her mother had left Tony; her grandmother's marriage had ended in divorce. What did she know about happiness or true love? But now she could feel it, she knew what two hearts joined in complete devotion felt like, and she wanted it, she wanted it so much it hurt. She wanted recognition of it, and she wanted Wolf to never doubt her again.

Smiling with tears in her eyes, Virginia stroked his forehead bathed in the firelight, brushed back his hair, then caressed his stubbled cheek as she kissed his brow. He stirred in his sleep, let out a little whine, and then rolled over, scratching his temple. She had to laugh softly. She loved him so much...if only she had never hurt him! But that was her track record, she hurt everybody--her father, her grandmother, and now Daviander. She hadn't meant to shove him away, and as soon as she realized it was happening, she tried to make amends. She didn't know if she was succeeding. He softened to her, he treated her with dignity and respect, and yet there was a doubt in his eyes, a lack of trust, that crushed her. Bringing him here to this place had not helped, it had only reminded both of them of their families' dark pasts. She had sworn to erase the past, to reaffirm friendship between human and dragon and end the fear and hate toward dragons in the Kingdoms, but how could she do that when she couldn't even manage to treat him with respect herself? She couldn't shut him out, not any more. She worried for him, for his long silences and gloomy spirits, but she had only herself to blame.

What made it worse, of course, was that he had been the recipient of her wish on the silver lining. She had known how badly they needed good fortune in the confrontation ahead, but even after all she had seen in the Kingdoms, she could not bring herself to believe a simple magic wish could alter the course of the future and save the day. At the moment of her touch to the cool, tingling metal of the sky, Virginia had wanted only to be selfless--not because she thought that would win her points with destiny, although it probably did, but because she longed for Daviander to be happy. That was what she had wished. She hoped in her heart that he would be...and that, since he must live on, and be free of persecution, and be rewarded in order for that to occur, which in turn would not happen unless the Ice Queen were defeated, then their quest could be blessed indirectly. But even if that were not so, still...she had known what she had to do. And yet now she found herself hurting the one she had tried to help, the one who had already been wounded so severely by life. It made her want to howl in agony.

At least she still had Wolf, though. At least she had him. Assuming, of course, they all survived the next day. With or without the silver lining, a battle fraught with enchantment and evil lay ahead, and any of them could lose their lives in the waging of it. Particularly with the plan Daviander had concocted. In theory it would work, but of course it had not been tested and there was no way to do so. They would have only one shot at this, and Murphy's Law was sure to strike, since there had never been a plan more complicated than crossing the road that had not gone wrong in some way since time began. She could only hope that Daviander's incredible intellect and knowledge would not steer them wrong, and that whatever alterations would have to be made on the spur of the moment would not cost them dearly. The next day was the crux.

Virginia sighed and threw herself sideways on the rug. Lying here constantly running through the same thoughts in her mind would not help, however. In fact it made it worse, since it deprived her of the sleep she needed. She had to calm down, to relax, to let what come, what may. Such a fatalistic attitude wasn't like her, but she knew she'd had to do a lot of out-of-character things since coming to the Kingdoms. And considering the perils with which the battle would be rife, she'd probably have to do even more.

She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, stroking her belly to soothe herself, letting all her limbs relax. To her surprise it worked, and in minutes she was fast asleep, and dreaming.

She found herself in the hallway outside Wendell's throne room, walking in slow, echoing strides down the marble flooring. Wolf was with her, his expression tense and nervous, and his palm as he clasped hers was sweaty. Her own was no better. On her feet were the magic shoes, and somehow she knew they were invisible even though she could see herself.

The towering panels of gold creaked open ponderously, letting the light of day spill in from the throne room, and then they were passing inside. At first Virginia thought the room was empty, but then she noticed the blocks of ice, encasing the frozen, terrified forms of those who had been enchanted--Wendell, her father, Lord Rupert, and many more, positioned about the floor like chess pieces in some colossal game of fate, surrounded by swirling mists. And then the Ice Queen appeared on the dais, the hand that moved the pieces, and she laughed mockingly. The doors slammed shut, and suddenly Red Riding Hood was beside her, laughing as well as she wrenched Virginia's arm in her socket and dragged her to the throne. "Hah! Here they are, Your Majesty, just as I warned you, they have come to destroy you! Is that not the most pathetic thing you have ever heard?"

Virginia stared at the queen in horror, stunned by her betrayal even in the foggy daze of her dream-state. But before she could do anything, the Ice Queen was nodding, lips pursed in sly amusement. "Indeed it is...I expected better of you, Lady Virginia. You and your Wolf did not arrive boldly and mightily to crush me, but slipped in like common sneak thieves. You are barely worth the time to dispense with you. Not a heroine at all." She lifted a bone-white palm and puffed gently on it, her breath somehow becoming an icy winter gale that washed over Virginia and Wolf. She held up her hands futilely to fend off the buffeting wind. There came a burst of scattered golden lights, and then the shield of their invisibility vanished. "But still, it will be most entertaining watching you meet your end." Slowly she lifted her wand to point it at Virginia.

"No!" Wolf howled. He launched himself forward before Virginia could stop him. He was nearly up the steps when the Ice Queen brandished a long, cruel knife and brought it down with crushing force. Wolf gasped, gurgling, as blood spewed out of his mouth, and then he fell backwards down the steps, the knife plunged to the hilt in his chest. He fell at Virginia's feet, and through the Ice Queen's malicious laughter she could somehow hear his whining whimpers of pain, the sharp high whistling of his breath. And then his green eyes flashed golden once and went dark.

Something in Virginia's soul went dark with them, her heart pounding with an impossible pain and despair, and she turned on the Witch of Winter in rage. Screaming incoherently, she finally managed to cry out Daviander's name. Then somehow he was there, hovering in the throne room, all glory and grandeur, majesty and splendor, wings flapping as he inhaled to blast the figure in white with his scalding fire. But the Ice Queen only yawned and waved her wand, which glowed an unearthly blue. The dragon had time only for one startled and horrified look before he suddenly stiffened, literally--his body turning a frosted crystal as it congealed into ice. The mammoth ice statue hovered in midair for a few seconds, then plummeted to the floor where it shattered into hundreds of unrecognizable fragments. Virginia gasped, stumbling back as tears began to flow down her cheeks. No, he could not be dead...they could not both be dead...

"Now, Virginia..." the Ice Queen's voice hissed. "You are the only one left. You are all alone. All alone, as you have always known you will be. Alone. Alone. Nothing and no one can save you. I triumph, and you are a failure."

Red Riding Hood had a vise-grip on her arms, preventing her escape, as Mistress Death came for her inexorably. Closer, closer she drew, and Virginia was powerless to resist, all her will and strength fled, her heart torn to pieces by what she had lost forever. She was a fool for ever thinking they could win. Closer, closer the Ice Queen drew, and as the wand began to spray its icy spell, she could already feel her heart stopping, her eyes going dark...dark...

Shrieking, Virginia wrenched herself upright, struggling with the bearskin rug. Her throat constricted with her heaving breaths, but she somehow managed to scream. She was still screaming when Wolf was beside her, wrapping her in his arms, holding her close, shushing her. When she realized who he was, where they were, and that he wasn't dead, she collapsed sobbing against his shoulder.

For a long time she stayed there, crying out all her horror and agony and despair. When she finally had no more tears left to shed, she still stayed with her face buried in his shoulder. Gradually she felt his hand cupping the back of her head, stroking it. "Oh, Virginia...sweetheart...what was it? Tell me about it, please..."

"No...no," she croaked. He couldn't know, and she couldn't bring herself to say it. "It was just a dream, a nightmare."

Wolf slowly sat back and lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "Lambchop, here in the Kingdoms there's no such thing as just a nightmare. They all mean something, they are all important."

"It doesn't matter," she snapped, resentment flaring in her voice. She couldn't accept what he was saying, she wouldn't. Because that would mean there might be truth in what she'd dreamt, and that could never be. It could not. "It'll never happen, I won't let it, so you can set your mind at ease."

He tried to comfort her, to wipe away her tears, even as he shook his head sadly and regretfully. But before he could try and convince her again of something she would never believe, she pulled away from him and leaped to her feet, disentangling herself from the rug and running out of the den.

Virginia heard him call after her, heard the aching distress in his voice, but she steeled herself to ignore it as she ran down the carpeted entry hall to the front door. Jerking it open, she ran out onto the porch, her eyes darting madly about the clearing, looking for, seeking, longing for, hoping for...yes! There he was, lying curled in a gentle loop just under the edge of the trees, his ebony form blending so well with the shadows that she could not have seen him at all if not for the faint sooty glow and puffs of smoke rising from his nostrils. He was asleep, snoring peacefully but gratingly; apparently her screams had been muffled by the stonework. But he was there, he was alive. He was all right.

As she stood there shuddering on the doorstep, shivering more from the certainty and inevitability of the dream than from the cold night air that made her breath fog before her face, she heard a quiet step and then Wolf came up behind her. She knew it was him since they were alone, but she would have known it was him no matter what, she knew his gait, the way he moved. "Virginia...I'm sorry. I won't ask you again, you don't have to tell if you don't want to. I just thought...it might do you some good to talk about it..."

She turned back and looked at him. He was shifting from one foot to the other like a schoolboy in the principal's office, but the look on his face was the same as in her chamber at the palace after she awoke from her two-day sleep, so visibly concerned and longing to make her happy, to wipe all the terrible memories from her mind. It made her eyes tear up again. How could she lose him? What if she did? What if it wasn't just a dream, but a premonition? Or one of many possible outcomes?

"Wolf...just...just hold me." She stepped into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

For a long time they just stood there on the stoop, embracing and rocking back and forth as the stars shone above and the sounds of crickets and the occasional owl floated eerily to them through the cold air. Then Wolf turned and began to gently guide her toward the door. "Come on, my poor little sausage...come back inside and try and get some more sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Oh, if only he knew.