do you mean?»
The black stranger laughed a dry, rustling laugh, like loosened ash.
«Who are you?» Clement kept expecting him to wipe his face from the ashes and introduce himself, but he sat motionless. His limbs were too long to be human and clawed. His figure was lanky. He had some sort of encrustation on his shoulders, and a crown or cap with bells on his head. He did not look like a jester or a king. He was a stranger, but his ashes were so thick!
The sinewy stranger wiggled, and then the ashes woke and wailed upon a multitude of black faces. Clement watched with horror. This was more than his uncle’s magic tricks. It looked like real ghosts. The ashy faces resembled the discarded masks of burnt creatures. They squirmed, crooked, frowned. They opened their mouths in a mute or muffled cry.
«We’re all burned because of her,» they whispered. «Run from her, at least you!»
«Run from her!» In tone with them said the black creature, sitting in the middle of the ashes as if in his own house.
«From whom it is?» Clement didn’t understand. From the dragon, it seemed, you should run. The dragon is «he,» not it is «she.»
«It is from her!» The faces echoed, ignoring, for some reason, the threat of attack from the beast. «She can turn anyone and everything to ashes.»
There they were again, talking about some sort of witch. Could she be the dragon’s mistress? Running away from a dragon made more sense than running away from the sorceress who was controlling it. Besides, Clement had gotten past the dragon’s fire so far. Except that the dragon’s slip might have been pure chance.
«We don’t know her name, but if you get in her way, the same thing that happened to us will happen to you. You will become ash,» the ash masks whispered.
Clement was frightened. He didn’t want to burn alive. The ash faces gave too tragic a prophecy.
The ash-soaked creature pointed with its claws busily toward the sky, as if it had seen a sign there.
Clement looked up as well. No dragon was flying over the ashes. So what was it?
As he pondered, the creature chanted in a low voice:
«Beauty and scales, but she is not your bride!»
It laughed and vanished. Only its black crown lay briefly among the ashes, and the black faces lamented in mass. They made the ashy ground seem like a sea of severed heads.
Flames and scales
Clement dreamed that he was walking through the throne room of the Aluar’s palace. Here everything had changed. Instead of a row of knightly armor and sculptures, creepy monsters in armor stood on either side of the hall. Each one was the size of a giant. Their horned heads almost rest against the ceiling. The monsters themselves are as motionless as statues. They do not hinder his advance toward the throne. Everything looks like the day of the coronation. Only on the throne lies a crown of golden laurel leaves, thorns, and claws. All these symbols are not part of the coat of arms of Aluar. Only the crown of some dragon kingdom could be like this.
The floor is sprinkled with golden pollen, in which evil pixies circle. The mirrors reflect ladies and gentlemen in ghastly scarlet and black masks, like ghosts, though the room itself is empty. There are no guests. But in the flames of the candles sit tiny fire fairies. They hiss unhappily at the sight of Clement.
The steps of the throne are lined with skulls. There were several skulls in crowns. These are his brothers and his father!
«You are the last, but you are the most valuable!» There is an ominous voice over the hall. «I will get to you in any one piece. Even over the corpse of the one I love. Even through the flames of the strongest dragons. Your life belongs only to me!»
On the throne sits someone dark, he was resembled a monster formed from ashes. The teeth of his crown are so sharp you could cut yourself on them. Red eyes burn rubies in the shadow’s face.
«Come to me yourself?» A dark clawed hand beckons him forward. «Stop to play hide and seek! You were born a hero, but you run from your destiny like a hare. It is time to face your destiny.»
A wave of darkness rushes from the throne. The darkness turns into claws. They slide across Clement’s body, leaving scratches like seals. In reality he cannot bear to fight with a sword; in his dreams the sword is his only defense.
«I need a fifth crowned head, and then I will have the most beautiful and powerful bride in the universe! You want to help me, don’t you? Do you want her to be queen of Aluar and queen of Shai at the same time?»
The darkness’s hypnotizing voice is convincing. The claws of the darkness snatch the sword from him. Clement is ready to put his neck under the blade to join his brothers. But then the mirror on the wall shatters. The reflection of the dragon and Raymonda is seen in the shards that scatter across the hall. The sight of Raymonda lifts the spell of darkness. Clement understands that he is prepared to do some heroic deeds for her.
And that is all. The awakening is painful, like falling from a height. All around is not a hut but a dense forest. As it turned out, he sleeps right on the road and only by some miracle did not fall under some farmer’s cart, carrying hay to town.
«It’s all the invader’s charms! They make his mind wander somewhere far away,» said a familiar female voice.
Even without opening his eyes, he recognized the tenderness of Raymonda’s fingers as they brushed strands of hair away from his forehead. Her fingers had sharp scales on them. He winced. He must be hallucinating! Why would there be scratching hot scales in a maiden’s pampered skin?
«It’s bad enough the enchantments from Shai caught up with him on the road,» answered an unpleasant male voice with a lisp that made his ears hurt. «Think what would happen the next time they caught him unawares on the field and he fell asleep beneath his enemies’ axes.»
«The Shai’s ruler has tapped into it heavily,» Raymonda agreed. «He’s looking for a power source. But he’s not a fighter anyway. I’m disappointed in him, I admit. If he weren’t so handsome, I’d have broken the contract. But I have a weakness for handsome young men.»
«This one is not for burning!» The husky bass warned her defiantly. «For roasting you have his enemy troops. You can do what you want with them. You can burn them on a spit, but the boy is our liberator-to-be.»
«And what if you’re as disappointed in him as I am? He’s not even a knight. He’s just an archer. There’s no sword hidden in his things. I’ve already checked. He’s a very good shot, though. But he’s no better shot than any elf.»
Raymonda’s voice was pleasant, but the bass was like the rattle of twigs snapping in a storm. An owl howled. Clement opened his eyelids cautiously. She had already moved away from him. She looked beautiful in her new silver dress with its lace trim and waistband. But the hunched creature that galloped around her looked more like a living bush of moss, clusters of leaves, and branching horns. This is how the late, frightened travelers describe the wood spirits that attacked them. Could this be the wood spirits? There’s no other name for this creature.
Not that Clement was frightened, but the sight of a woodland
