Chapter 13: The Doom of the Stars
Smoke rose from Felimath. Even before the island itself was in sight, the thin columns of black could be seen spiraling up from the horizon, marring the clear blue of the sky. Those black lines drawn in the heavens were like signs of doom for Gale.
The lookout had sighted them that morning as the rest of the ship's company was below decks eating breakfast around eight. The man's excited shouts had sent them all rushing up and pouring out over the deck, heading for the prow, where Gale had a fine sight of the columns. At the sight of them, his appetite vanished, and he wished he hadn't just eaten.
The next call came from the lookout around ten-thirty. This time when Gale rushed to the prow, there was no sight of the land that had prompted the lookout's cry, but Gale knew he'd soon be able to see it from the deck. Joined by Andern, Marris, Darkspot, and Shayna, he'd stared intently at the line between sea and sky until it was broken by a black shape that Gale knew was the westernmost of the three Lone Isles.
Now, at one that afternoon, the islands were easily distinguishable. The easternmost of the Isles, Doorn, where they would be making port at Narrowhaven, was not yet visible, but Felimath and Avra stood directly in Wavedancer's path. The curling smoke was mostly rising from the former, though Avra looked in no good shape. Both the islands were fairly flat, with a few rolling hills, but they were blackened. What Gale guessed had once been fine pasture lands and green dells were now charred earth. He scanned Felimath, hoping to catch sight of his adversary, but the dragon didn't show itself.
"Don't worry, Your Majesty, I'm sure you'll have more than your fill of dragon sightings in the next twenty-four hours," Marris said, reading Gale's disappointed expression correctly.
"I want to see what I'm up against as soon as possible," Gale answered.
"Teeth, claws, fire, and scales," Marris replied. "Does it really matter how big the brute is?"
Gale looked at him and saw the grim expression on his high commander's face. He nodded slowly. "You have a point." He pressed his fingers lightly against his side. The dart wound had closed, but if he applied too much pressure to the spot, or if he raised his left arm too high stretching the skin on his side, he could feel the pain of his injury. It wasn't an ideal situation, but he was just going to have to make do. Just thank the Lion it wasn't the right side, he thought, considering the fix he would have been if he'd been unable to lift his sword-arm.
From the opposite end of the ship, Andern shouted a few commands. Soon after, Wavedancer slowly turned from her eastern course, heading south-east to sail around the two islands to reach Doorn. Gale continued to gaze intently at Felimath as they sailed past, still hoping for a sight of the dragon.
His wish was granted. A terrific bellow suddenly shattered the silence, causing many heads to whip around in fear. Gale felt a shudder pass through him at the sound, but that was nothing compared to what he felt as the dragon itself came into view.
It rose from Felimath on vast black wings, cruelly hooked on the ends and covered in dark membranes. The beast itself was perhaps forty feet long, covered in scales that ranged from black to a silvery grey, with a tail that ended in a vicious diamond-shaped spike. Horns jutted out from the back of its skull and a long row of spines, connected by more membrane, ran all the way down its spine to the end of its tail.
It hovered on an updraft for a few moments, while Wavedancer's crew all stood stock still, aware that if it noticed and took a fancy to them, no one in Narnia would ever hear from them again. However, the dragon did not look out to sea. It flapped for a few more seconds then resettled on the ground behind another of Felimath's hills. All Gale could see of it were its still outstretched wings, but then those too vanished as the dragon folded them. A collective sigh of relief ran through everyone on board Wavedancer.
"Let's get to the castle as quickly as possible, shall we?" Gale said, trying to sound light-hearted.
"I don't think anyone's going to argue with that, Your Majesty," Marris replied. The high commander's face was pale, but Gale knew that there were few men braver aboard the ship. His own heart was beating a little too fast for comfort, and he guessed that the same pallor had claimed his own features.
They passed Felimath, then Avra, with no more dragon sightings, although they heard it roar twice more, and pulled into the bay of Narrowhaven. The town was in ruins; the houses had either been burnt or partially knocked over for the most part, as if the dragon's tail had slammed into the stone walls or it had ripped them apart looking for victims. On the hill, the castle of the governor still stood strong, its thick, rubble-filled walls much stronger than those of ordinary houses. There was no sign of life, however, from either the town or the fortress.
Gale stood aside as Andern arranged the shore parties. Wavedancer was equipped with only three longboats, which would not be quite sufficient in bringing all the crew to land at once. Usually, Andern would have left at least six men aboard the ship to watch over it, but with the threat of the dragon, he was more willing to lose a ship than his loyal men.
As Gale watched, a shape rose from the castle and came gliding toward them. At first, he stiffened, unsure of what the strange object was, but as it circled closer, he recognized the brown plumage and majestic outline of a sea eagle. It floated over the ship, then began to descend gracefully, until Gale could see that it was no normal animal, but a Narnian Talking Beast. Only when he realized that did he remember the messenger he had sent to the Lone Isles to tell the islanders of his imminent arrival.
Windsea the Sea Eagle landed on the railing before Gale and Marris. She dipped her head to the king and spread her wings in a gesture of avian respect. "Your Majesty," she said, "you are eagerly awaited at the castle. The governor sent me to tell you to come ashore as soon as you can. It isn't safe to remain in the open for too long. Your journey has been agreeable, I presume?"
Gale thought wryly about the diversion with the pirates and the recent merfolk attack. "For the most part, yes."
Windsea spread her wings again. "The governor's men will meet you at the docks. They thank you heartily for coming to their aid." The wind caught her wings and lifted her from the railing. She rose until she was a brown smudge against the sky as she circled back toward the castle.
The longboats were lowered and the first party made their way to the shore. Andern had insisted that Gale go ahead while he remained behind as was his duty as ship's captain. Gale had recognized that there was no point in arguing with the captain, even if his pride might have encouraged him to stay on other occasions. But now he recognized that it was his duty to go ahead and meet the governor's men at the docks.
There was a company of ten men, led by one of the governor's captains, waiting for them when the ships pulled up to the docks, or what remained of them, for the wooden wharfs had been burned. Gale couldn't help but notice how timid the men seemed, and how they kept glancing nervously at the sky or in Felimath's direction. Remembering the awesome and terrifying sight of the great black dragon rising from the scorched earth, he could hardly blame them.
The second party with Andern arrived in some ten minutes' time. "Come," the governor's captain said, beckoning the Narnians, "it's not wise to stay outside the castle for too long."
Inside the castle, they were met with a dreary sight. It seemed as if a whole town was attempting to operate inside the small courtyard. The governor's castle was no Cair Paravel; it was not built to house more than the governor and his family and honorary guard, as well as the occasional visitors that his station required. But for almost two months now, the castle had been the working home of the population of the entire three islands. Tents, or makeshift structures built of whatever people could get their hands on, were crowded into the courtyard, making it difficult to even walk through. The people gathered around as the Narnians passed through. They were ragged and dirty, as if they had been wearing the same clothes since they arrived, which was probably true for many if they had been forced to flee their homes without rescuing any of their belongings. Their faces were drawn from worry and many a sleepless night, but Gale saw hope gleaming in their tired eyes as they looked at him, and a murmur and then a cheer went up as he passed between them. He raised his hand, smiling, acknowledging them and putting on a confident outer appearance. He only hoped that their trust in him would prove well deserved.
In the castle itself, there was more evidence of its status as the temporary living quarters of Narrowhaven and the other Lone Isle villages. The governor's guard led them through the halls strewn with blankets and sometimes a straw mat that served as beds. Murmurs of "the king of Narnia" and "we're saved" echoed in Gale's ears as he passed by. The halls opened out finally into the main hall where on usual occasions feasts would be held, visitors entertained, and where the governor would hold meetings. Here, there were no makeshift beds and crowding villagers, but crates of food were stacked all around the room, over head high against the walls in most places.
The governor was a flustered, older man with an ample paunch and some wisps of white hair on his smooth round head. He bowed to Gale, his robes fluttering about him. "Your Majesty, we are your humble servants. I'm afraid we're in no fit condition to properly entertain a real king, sir, but please make yourself at home as best as you can. We will provide anything that you or your men need after your journey. May I speak for all my people and say that we are eternally grateful for Your Majesty's consideration in coming. Sir, I'm sorry we are not as formal or organized as I'm sure you are used to, but – "
" – but you have been dealing with quite extraordinary circumstances and therefore, you are forgiven for any lack of ceremony," Gale finished.
"Thank you very much, Your Majesty," the old man said, bowing once again.
Gale inclined his head. "For now, all we seek is somewhere to rest for this afternoon and tonight. It's already late, and I'm sure it won't be a problem if I wait until tomorrow morning to fight the dragon."
"Of course not, sir! And Your Majesty knows that my men are willing to help in whatever way you see fit. Please do not hesitate – "
Again, Gale was forced to interrupt the governor's anxious babbling. "Yes, of course, governor. I and my men are tired from our voyage. Perhaps you could spare us some quarters. We have brought our own food, so you needn't worry about feeding us."
But the governor shook his head. "No, Your Majesty, we have plenty of food to spare for you. We were able to save most of the supplies from Doorn and Avra before the dragon destroyed the crops. We will provide supper for you and your men this evening. Please, my captain will show you and your companions where you will be staying. Warm bathes will be provided and fresh clothes if those are needed."
After Gale managed to thank and dismiss himself from the governor, he and the other Narnians were led away by the same captain to a new part of the castle. The rooms were on the upper levels of the castle keep, and here there was less evidence of the everyday bustling life of below. Gale was shown into a rather fine room that he imagined was for important visitors or members of the governor's family. There was a bed draped in soft covers, a pleasant change from the hard rocking bunks on Wavedancer, tapestries hung on the wall, and a small fire was banked in a hearth. True, it was not his sumptuous room back in Cair Paravel, but he was not about to complain.
As promised, a warm bath was waiting and he gratefully took advantage of the fresh streaming water to wash off all the grime he had acquired after a month aboard the ship with no water that could be spared for such cleanliness. Afterwards, he put on a new tunic, shaved his ragged beard back down to the more orderly stubble that he preferred, and pulled his crown out of his baggage and set it on the table so he wouldn't forget to wear it to the supper that the governor was providing. Then he sat down at the window and gazed out for a time. The window faced west, and across the channel he could see the remains of Avra glaring at him in its ruin. There was no sight nor sound of his foe, but his stomach twisted all the same.
A knock sounded on the door. Swiftly, he rose to answer it, not unhappy at being interrupted from the dark thoughts that his mind had been leading him toward. When he opened the door, he found Shayna waiting for him.
Evidently, she also had bathed, for her hair still hung wet around her face and she was dressed in a clean simple smock. Gale smiled and beckoned her in, closing the door behind her as she stepped past him. She went to the window and looked out. "You're lucky; my window faces south," she said.
Gale stood beside her, glancing out at the bleak view. "We could switch if you like. I don't know that I want to spend the whole night staring out and wondering if at any minute a blast of fire is going to burst through."
She turned from the window, leaning her back against the sill and facing him. "What do you plan to do tomorrow, Gale?"
Gale scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, I was thinking I'd take one of the longboats to Avra, lure the beast in somehow, and ambush it. I've got my long spear and I've heard their biggest weakness is the roof of their mouths before they breathe fire…"
"You don't have a plan," Shayna said pointedly, leveling a grim stare at him.
"Just because I don't have every step planned doesn't mean I don't have anything."
"Lure the beast in somehow?" Shayna repeated. "Heard that their biggest weakness is their mouths? You don't really intend on going out there tomorrow with only that to go by."
"All right, fine," Gale said, slightly exasperatedly. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do exactly, but I know what I have to do. I'm not letting these people down, Shayna. You saw them. We are their only hope. I am their only hope. If I can't figure out a way to deal with the dragon, then they're doomed and we with them. And I couldn't exactly make detailed battle plans until I saw the landscape and the actual dragon, now could I?"
Shayna seemed to decide not to press the point, at least for the time being. Instead, she stared keenly at him, until he started to feel decidedly uneasy. "Who are you going to take with you?" she asked finally.
Gale fidgeted with the hem of a satin curtain that was pulled back from the window. "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing."
"Who are you taking? Are you going to take any of the governor's men?"
Gale forced himself to look at her. "I'm going alone. I've already told you that."
An expression of disappointment and disbelief crossed her face. "I thought you gave that foolish idea up," she exclaimed. "Why, Gale? Why, when you have plenty of men who will willingly aid you?"
"Because this is my task," he rejoined. "I swore that I would kill the dragon, and I intend on doing it. I won't put anyone else in harm's way. I would be ashamed to return to Narnia with the news that I needed a dozen armed guards surrounding me to fulfill my word."
"This is still about your pride," she shot back. "Can't you see that? This is what we came with you to do, all of us: to stand by you until the end. You're worried about your shame; how do you think Marris will feel if you refuse to allow him to help you, or any of your men?"
He folded his arms and faced her, feeling his anger starting to rise. But along with the anger, he felt a vague sense of confusion. He was aware that he was acting foolishly in the back of his mind, but he didn't understand why Shayna felt so strongly about his actions. A few weeks ago, they had not even known each other.
"I know any of them would die fighting for me in a heartbeat," he answered. "Don't think I don't appreciate their loyalty to me. I'll take Marris with me tomorrow, though I won't let him fight unless I absolutely need him. There, are you happy?"
"No, I'm not," she said hotly. "I saw that monster this morning, and I realize that it's going to take a good deal to bring it down. I may not be a fighter, Your Majesty, but I know that you will be risking your life in the most extreme manner if you go alone to face it tomorrow. And we aren't going to let you do that. Marris won't. Darkspot won't. I won't. We'll restrain you if we have to."
Gale spread his arms wide. "What is this? I've said I'll take Marris. I'm not the inept child that everyone seems to think I am. I'm doing what I think is right. I am the king, and it is my duty to take risks."
Shayna's eyes were hard. They seemed to bore into him. "Somehow, I think that being king is about more than taking risks, Your Majesty. There are those who love you, and you are too stubborn and thick-headed to see it. Marris is more loyal to you then you can possibly imagine, and Darkspot loves you fiercely. Don't throw all that away, Your Majesty."
Gale's brows knitted. Something was stirring in his heart that he tried to grasp but could not quite keep a hold on. "What is it you want?" he demanded.
She tipped her head back, the same boring stare burning into him. "What am I to you, Gale?" she asked slowly, each word weighty and carefully formed.
It wasn't a question Gale expected. He looked around the room helplessly, as if some ready-made answer would be floating there. Of course, there wasn't, and he was forced to return his gaze to Shayna. "Well," he blustered, "you're my subject, of course. I'm the king, and therefore, I feel responsibility toward you, along with all other Narnians. It's my duty to protect you, as it is my duty to protect Marris, and Darkspot, and the Lone Islanders."
A mist formed in Shayna's eyes and she bit her lip. She lowered her head, and he sensed she was fighting some emotion, for when she looked back up at him, her face was strangely blank. "I see, Your Majesty," she said with a stiffness that surprised him. "And of course, as just one more of your humble subjects, I shan't bother you about your most important and grand business any longer. So if Your Majesty will excuse me…"
Despite her words, she didn't wait for his dismissal. Instead, she brushed past him and hurried to the door. He tried to follow her, attempting to make some reply, but before he could say anything she had vanished through the door and it had shut in his face.
Gale flopped down wearily across his bed, tired, angry, and confused. Clearly, he had not answered her question correctly, but he could not see why she should be so upset over the truth. He had agreed not to go alone, and now that he thought about it, he figured it probably wouldn't hurt to take a few more men as a backup, just in case. He realized that his boastful claim to go alone had been just that, a boast. Why had he wanted to show off? For that was what he had been doing. It was stupid to think he could actually kill the dragon all by himself. He sighed in frustration and ran his hands through his loose hair. "Women," he snorted, not sure what else to say.
The door eased open and a yellow form glided in and hopped up onto the bed next to him. Darkspot settled herself and licked his hand affectionately. "How is your wound, Gale?"
Gale grunted in reply and shrugged. Darkspot lifted her head and stared thoughtfully at him. "Nerves, Gale, or something else? I sense there is more fear in you then a simple dragon could ever manage to stir up. What is the matter?"
At first, he didn't want to talk, but he found that the bubbling emotions didn't want to stay down. He told Darkspot of his argument with Shayna, the decision he'd reached concerning companions, and the final question Shayna had put to him, along with his answer. "She's insane," he answered. "I think I'm getting along fine with her one moment, and the next moment she blows up at me for no reason."
Darkspot was silent as he ranted, but she didn't look at him. Her chin resting on the covers, she gazed past him out the window. Her tail twitched slowly. Gale's frustration finally simmered out with his tirade, and he looked pleadingly at his friend. "What have I done wrong? Advise me, Darkspot. I don't know what to do."
Darkspot rose and leapt gracefully off the bed. She loped toward the door, but stopped just short of it, turning. He was unable to read the dark pools of her eyes. "I think that exactly is your problem," she answered. "And I do not think it is my place to say. This is beyond the advice of a Talking Beast. For the problem to be solved, you must answer your own questions, Gale."
Before he could interrogate her further, she slipped out the door and was gone.
Gale dropped backwards back into his pillows, rubbing his brow. Why did things always have to be so complicated?
He didn't have much time left to consider his plight, however, for another knock sounded at his door soon after, this time his visitor being one of the governor's guards coming to tell him that supper was ready. He snatched up his crown before following the man back down to the main hall.
It had changed since he'd last been there. The crates had been shifted around or removed, creating a large open space where tables had been set up. A large fire was burning in the hearth, filling the room with light, and it seemed that most of the population of the Lone Isles was there to greet him.
He was given a seat at the head table beside the governor from where he could see all the villagers, along with Wavedancer's crew and his own guards seated at the long tables. The fare that covered the tables was plain, but plentiful, and the smell of the freshly cooked food made Gale's stomach rumble eagerly. The governor said a few words, once again thanking Gale and the Narnians and apologizing for the simple food, but asking him to enjoy himself and partake of the Lone Islanders' grateful tribute. Gale, in turn, offered words of thanks and appropriate confidence concerning his upcoming fight with the dragon, the results of which were hearty cheers from all the islanders in the room. The sight of their hopeful, cheering faces brought back some of Gale's good mood.
Marris was seated at the table with him, as was Andern, and Darkspot crouched on the floor nearby, but as Gale began eating and glanced around the room, he saw that Shayna was absent. He forced himself not to linger on the fact. If Shayna had decided to pout in her room over whatever he'd offended her with, that was her problem. But all the same, he couldn't help feeling a little sorry.
The governor introduced Gale to his son, a man slightly younger than Gale himself. He had the same round, red face and abundant middle as his father, and his hair was a musty yellow color. He was clean-shaven, but that only served to give him a boyish look. Gale nodded to him and listened politely as the young man told him about how he'd first sighted the dragon flying from the east across the sea and how he'd raised the alarm that had given the villagers the time to save most of the supplies in Narrowhaven. Gale wasn't really listening, however.
They had been eating for ten minutes perhaps, when he suddenly heard Andern to his left emit a low whistle. "Well now, who would have thought we'd picked up a princess."
At first, Gale had no idea what the captain was talking about, but then he looked up, following Andern's gaze. What he saw made his jaw drop.
A woman was standing in the entrance to the hall, a woman whom it took Gale a few seconds to realize was Shayna. Gone was the ruffled mess of hair, the overlarge masculine clothes or simple smock. She was wearing a floor-length dress of dark blue satin trimmed with gold with a deep, semi-circular neckline and long sleeves, a garment that fit her feminine form much better than anything she had worn previously. Her long hair had been combed, and though still voluminous, it hung in an ordered curtain of dark curls about her face. She held herself with the poise of a noblewoman as she swept across the hall, attracting the eyes of everyone she passed. Gale continued to stare despite himself, trying to reconcile this image of beauty with the disheveled, pert young woman he had come to know.
The transformed Shayna bowed elegantly in front of the governor and he greeted her enthusiastically before glancing around the head table. "Please, come and have a seat," he said, indicating an empty spot on the other side of his son. "We've begun the feast, but there is still plenty for you. Where do you come from, my lady? Cair Paravel?"
Gale heard Shayna answer him pleasantly as she took her seat. She hadn't even bothered to glance in his direction. He stole a quick look around the governor and saw Shayna being introduced to the governor's son who was beaming at finding himself seated beside a Narnian beauty. She seemed all smiles, as if the argument between her and Gale that afternoon had never taken place.
Gale went back to eating, determined not to show his distraction, but he couldn't stop himself thinking. She could have at least nodded to him, looked in his direction. How would it look to the islanders if one of his own subjects refused to even acknowledge him? What had he done that deserved being ignored?
Marris and Andern were chatting with each other contentedly over their glasses of wine, and the sound of happy discussion filled the hall. The atmosphere was one of long-absent relief and new-found hope, an aura that should have filled him with confidence and pleasure, but he couldn't manage to enjoy the food or the company. He kept stealing what he thought were subtle glances over at the other side of the table where Shayna and the governor's son were chatting. He saw the young man reach over to pour more wine into Shayna's glass, and Shayna touched his hand casually in a gesture that he had filled it far enough. They both drank and continued to talk, both seeming content and happy.
Various people approached Gale to offer their thanks and best wishes for his fight before they retired for the night, and he acknowledged them automatically. After a couple had profusely thanked him and insisted on him accepting a bottle of their best wine, he glanced back over at Shayna. Whatever she was discussing with the governor's son, it seemed to be quite entrancing to her. He'd hoped that she'd grow weary of the young man and come around to say something to himself, but that didn't appear to be happening any time in the near future. As he watched out of the corner of his eye, he realized that she was actually flirting with delighted governor's son, and the realization made a cold pit form in his stomach. He looked away. Why should he care? Let her do what she pleased. But how in the world could she find that simpering, boy-faced nobleman's son more pleasing company than the king of Narnia?
Finally, he could stand it no longer. He gave his polite thanks to the governor for the meal and retired, forcing himself to keep his eyes straight ahead as he walked out the door. He considered returning to his room, but the thought didn't please him. He wanted to walk around, get some fresh air, work some of the stress out of his system.
He told one of the guards that he wished to go outside, and the guard showed him to a back door, away from the main entrance. "You'll find the governor's gardens out there," the man said. "There's less tents out that way, and you should be able to walk in private for a while. But it you hear the alarm sounded, get inside as quickly as you can." Gale thanked the man and exited the castle, grateful to be by himself after the noise and commotion of the feast hall.
The moon shone over the garden and the Narnian stars gleamed overhead. The garden wasn't large, but there was no one else about, and the sweet smell of the flowers mingled with the pleasant loneliness made him relax a little. A path paved with small colorful pebbles wound its way through the bushes and flowers and then under some fruit trees and he followed it, attempting to keep his mind blissfully blank.
There was a bench under an apple trees and he sat for a time, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. The air had the same sea tang that it had in Cair Paravel, and with his eyes closed, he could almost imagine he was back home. With a sudden pang, he realized he missed the grand Narnian castle where he'd lived all his life.
Just as suddenly he realized he was no longer alone. He opened his eyes and saw a figure making its way down the path he'd just traversed. His heart leapt into his mouth as he recognized Shayna.
Slowly, he rose to his feet, not sure if she'd followed him, or if she too had simply sought peace after the loud supper. If the latter were the case, he wasn't sure that he'd be welcome company. Something ached inside as he remembered how she'd acted toward the governor's son and how she'd ignored him. He half-considered turning and striding away before she reached him – two could play at her game after all – but he couldn't do it. His feet led him toward her, and he had a vague feeling that they wouldn't have taken him anywhere else, even if he'd wanted them to.
She looked up as he approached. She didn't immediately turn from him or ignore him, but simply gazed at him, which almost made him feel more nervous. She was still wearing the dress from supper, and her hair blew about her from the sea wind that came over the walls.
He stopped a few paces from her. "Hello," he said, thinking of nothing else to say.
"Your Majesty." The cold stiffness of the formality cut into him, but he refused to show her that it did. He clasped his hands behind him and gazed at her.
"I've said that I prefer 'Gale'," he replied.
She remained where she was, her hands at her sides. "I am your subject, Your Majesty. I must be considerate of your position. It is hardly my place to call my liege by his name as if we were common friends."
He stepped closer to her. A deep need to come to a reconciliation with her, if not more, ached inside him. He was still not quite sure why his words had wounded her so much, but he was beginning to comprehend his mistakes. "But we are friends, I would hope," he said quietly. No change came over her, and he went on, taking another step toward her. "You're right," he said, "I was acting foolishly, but anyone will tell you that such behavior is hardly new to me." He'd meant the statement to be light-hearted, almost joking, but as he said it, it struck home in an uncomfortable way. He fought past his unease, however, and went on.
"I won't go alone tomorrow. Marris probably would never let me hear the end of it, and Darkspot would probably bite my feet off before she'd allow me to march out there with no help. I don't know what came over me, to make me say I could do it alone. I'll take Marris, I promise, and his guards. That's what they're here for, and all of us together will be a match for any dragon."
She just looked at him. He couldn't tell whether his words had appeased her or not; he could only hope they had.
"I'm glad you've made that decision," she said at last, gazing past him at the trees. She didn't sound as cold as she had previously, but he felt a sadness or agitation in her tone.
"You're angry with me," he said slowly. "Please, Shayna, why are you angry with me?"
She looked back into his eyes. "If you don't know, then there is no point in me telling you."
Her words echoed Darkspot's. He frowned, trying to understand the riddle, the piece of the puzzle that somehow wasn't fitting together for him. He mulled over the memories he had of her: their first disastrous conversation on Wavedancer, her insistence on coming at Galma, their reconciliation before the merfolk attack, and the recent events of this afternoon and evening. The curious feeling of distraction that he'd felt around her for the last few weeks tugged at him and he looked at her, as if somehow he might find the answer in her bright eyes or her long dark hair. She was beautiful, he thought, more beautiful than anything he could recall seeing before…
He wasn't sure what made him reach out to her, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Taking her white hands in his, he looked down into her eyes. His heart beat as fast as it had during the battle in which he had rescued her and his cheeks felt hot, even though the sea breeze of evening was cool against them. Her eyes never left his as they stood there silently, and in the silence, he finally understood. And when he did, he knew exactly what to do. Bending his head, he gently pressed his lips to hers.
For an awful moment he was afraid she wouldn't kiss him back, or even worse, that she would pull away from him. But his fears were needless; after a second, she kissed him back with an enthusiasm that startled him. She slipped her arms about his shoulders and he held her tenderly, and her hair felt like silk against his hands and his cheeks. He closed his eyes and savored her warmth and the delightful passion of their embrace.
His lips left hers reluctantly, but he drew back from her at last and gazed at her. Her cheeks were flushed, but she met his eyes with a boldness and a mischievousness that made him wonder what he had just gotten himself into. Then he realized that it didn't matter, and he let a grin split his features. "I love you, Shayna," he said.
Her fingers trailed through his shaggy golden hair. "I thought you'd never see it," she said, a smile crossing her face as well. "I love you too, Gale."
He kissed her again, and when they parted, he felt giddy, as if the world was spinning around him. "How long…?" he managed, trying to control his dizziness.
"All along," she answered. "You didn't think I wanted to come along on this trip just to see one old dragon, did you?"
"Well, I did," he said, still feeling a little confused and not sure how to handle the new-found feelings that were pulsing through him. How could he have been so blind all this time? "You were rather rude to me, though, back when we first met."
"Rude or truthful?" she retorted.
He pondered this reply a moment. "Both maybe?" he offered.
She stroked his cheek, her fingers brushing over the rough stubble. "You can blame Darkspot, if you like. I confided in her about my feelings for you, and she said you'd need a firm hand, and that someone standing up to you and telling you the truth wouldn't be a bad thing. She said I was just the person you needed, someone with a little spunk."
"Did she?" Gale said, a little surprised, and yet not surprised at all. "The cheeky Beast."
That mischievous smile flickered across Shayna's face again. "She did. She was also the one who told me that flirting with the governor's son would be just the thing to put you into your place."
Gale grimaced as he remembered the torment he'd been put through during supper. "And where is my place?"
Her hands slid back down to his shoulders, pulling herself closer to him. "I'd say it's right here in my arms where I can keep a watchful eye on you to make sure you don't do anything too reckless and stupid. You're not going to try to slip away alone tomorrow, are you?"
"I promise," he replied. "If the dragon didn't kill me, either you, Marris, or Darkspot would when I got back."
"It would be Darkspot," Shayna said with a grin.
Gale chuckled. "You're right; it would be Darkspot."
They kissed again and then they sat side by side on the bench under the apple tree where Shayna laid her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly, her hand grasping his. He rested his cheek on the top of her silken head, and in that position he found himself looking up at the stars which twinkled like myriad laughing eyes in the dark blue sky of late evening. A sudden thought struck him and he laughed.
"What is it, Gale?" Shayna asked, lifting her head slightly.
"Do you believe that the stars foretell our destinies?"
"I don't know," she said, sounding confused.
Gale smiled. "I do," he said.