Page 38 of Water Dragon
“You might as well come along,” Malcolm said. “We’re hoping Maize might provide an easy fix, but perhaps it’s a case of the more the… merrier.”
“An easy fix for what?” Ewan asked.
When he didn’t get a reply he didn’t press for more of an elaboration, merely followed their lead as they hurried their step down the hallway.
***
Iona took comfort from Malcolm’s hand holding hers in a firm grip. He was not letting go. The words Sir Patrick had spoken had made her question herself, question this choice. Not because the words had made her unsure, but because it had brought to light the truth of what this might mean for Malcolm’s reign. If she was not accepted as his queen, it would weaken his authority. Losing the respect and goodwill of the highborn would have dire consequences when it came to a smooth and peaceful rule. They controlled half the army, had a stronghold on the major ports and their trade, and their families had owned and tilled the land for generations.
Was she a smart match for him?
Were they letting their hearts run away with them completely?
Perhaps she should never have kissed him? Perhaps it would have been better for him if she had simply packed that bag and slipped out of the castle without even saying goodbye?
But no, she thought to herself.That would have harmed him so much more than this ever could.
Because he loved her.
Her hearts swelled at the mere thought, the joy canceling out any other emotion.
They headed down the steps from the terrace into the castle gardens.
“Which fountain?” Malcolm asked.
“The bigger one,” Ewan answered with a shrug and a smile, making Malcolm roll his eyes at him.
The fountains were crowded together, but because they were vast it took a while to walk the area of the garden they covered. They were all big, round in shape, with varying displays of splashing water, jets and streams. Each of the fountains drew their water from the great underground river flowing beneath the gardens and the castle itself. It was holy, and so it was a little shocking to find the queen with her feet dipped into the whirlpools of the Spring fountain.
Iona kept the comment to herself, mostly out of respect for the fact that the queen was more in tune with the elements than she could ever hope to be.
“Good morning,” the queen greeted with a smile, though soon she picked up on the mood from those approaching and she paused. “Is something the matter?” she asked.
“I’m under some form of binding spell,” Malcolm declared.
“What?” Ewan breathed but kept quiet as he realized focus right now was on ensuring they might get the queen’s help.
“How?” Maize asked.
“The lance was tipped with a spearhead that was enchanted,” Iona replied.
“So, it’s in your bloodstream,” Maize concluded, drawing her feet out of the fountain to pull her sandals back on.
Iona was mildly pleased to see someone of Maize’s status wearing sandals without so much as a ‘pardon me’. She seemed at ease, wearing a less flashy dress than she had been wearing upon arrival and for dinner. In fact, she looked very comfortable, hair loose down her back and a natural glow on her skin. Iona felt like she could aspire to look like that, rather than wearing silk and uncomfortable shoes all day long.
Filing the observation away, she listened to Malcolm confirm the queen’s assessment with a clipped, “Yes.”
He was trying not to let the fact overwhelm him. Iona squeezed his hand in comfort.
He was a good head taller than queen Maize once she faced him, and she peered up at him before reaching for the hand Iona wasn’t holding.
Maize inspected the tips of his fingers, then the veins in his wrist, tracing them with her own fingertips.
“Nothing apparent,” she murmured, mostly to herself. “This is magic that has ancient roots, my prince,” she added. “And sometimes tracing those roots proves too difficult.”
“What does that mean?” Iona asked.
“That there might not be a remedy,” Malcolm said. Maize nodded confirmation. “We don’t even know the purpose of this binding spell,” he added. “If they’re after the earthmagic then why would they bind me? Don’t they want the moment of transference to happen?”
