New Tales From Old Yarn

by Barbara Becc

  Cup of tea in hand, the patron came back to the counter and retrieved a small book from an inside coat pocket. They carefully placed the book in front of the librarian, and starting sipping their tea. The librarian got the impression there was a struggle taking place on whether what happened should be shared, and instead of asking, the librarian took the book and flipped through a few pages to verify it was still in one piece. As usual, the book was in pristine condition, just as it had been when it was checked out. It had taken many years for this young one to earn the librarian's trust to check out the rarer books, but he had never regretted giving it to them. These old things liked to get fresh air every now and then anyway.

  "Still using Dolion as a name?" The librarian thought this was an innocent enough question, especially because he hadn't seen this patron for almost three years. The relaxing of the patron's shoulders reassured the librarian somehow and even more so when the patron replied, "No. It's Pagos... again. Just don't tell the weasel." Before the librarian could ask why, Pagos interjected quickly, "And you? May I still call you by Jiang?" Nodding firmly, the librarian set down his mug, "Of course. Just don't tell the weasel." Pagos snorted, and then quickly returned to their mug in embarrassment.

  Laughing, Jiang took the book and moved to lock the front door. Byron, knowing what this signified, bounded to the back wall and sat, barking twice before returning to his panting. Pagos almost snorted again, but cleared their throat to cover it up. Young ones could be so adorable. Jiang almost wished he could convince Pagos to settle down and help out with the library, but he knew it was still too early to bring it up. Plus that rivalry Pagos has been holding onto for the past few hundred years was, Jiang assumed, still going strong. The hoard Pagos gathered by now must be impressive.

  Approaching the far wall, Jiang motioned for Byron to move back, and although he obeyed he barked once in annoyance. Pagos tutted at the dog, setting down their mug to kneel and motion for Byron to come. Byron scampered forward, and happily allowed Pagos to hold him, looking every inch a royal assuming their throne. Jiang laughed again, just barely resisting doubling over at the hilarious image. He so loved little dogs. Such a huge amount of arrogance in such a small package. Jiang would never tire of it.

  The wall had a large bookcase, almost covering the entire length of it. Jiang tapped a few of the books on the tops of their spines, then ran a finger down the spine of a lavender colored paperback. There was a shutter that rocked the bookcase, and then it folded, accordion style, to the left. The two immortals walked into the entrance of Jiang's back room, and the bookcase closed behind them.

  The pride and joy of the librarian spread out into an almost cavern-like structure, stairs from the now closed off smaller library leading down into a lobby area. The lobby was circular, and bookcases spread from it like rays of the sun and continued on a great distance. Here, the books did not seem to be sorted in any way. Jiang didn't find the need to do so, since he at least had a decent idea where everything was. As they walked down the staircase, Jiang began muttering, going through the mental inventory of his library. Taking a right at the foot of the stairs, Jiang ran a hand along the third up shelf, a strange content humming coming from the books as they were touched. Pagos kept their distance, always a bit unnerved at the apparent awareness of the books. Petting Byron to calm their discomfort, Pagos followed Jiang closely, knowing one could easily get lost without the librarian's guidance.

  It took them awhile to get to the right bookcase, but soon the librarian was climbing up the side of one like a gecko, shifting to his more reptilian older form. Jiang placed the returned book on the second shelf down, five books in. The book almost seemed to relax into its place, the edges softening. Jiang tapped it, making a pleased sound, "They are always glad when you take them out, you know. They enjoy your adventures." Pagos was unsure if they were reassured by this information, or a bit more disturbed than before. Not that Pagos didn't like books, but... It just wasn't often such things could like someone back. How objects would even enter a self-aware state was beyond them, but they supposed it had much to do with the librarian that took care of them. And some remnant magic that comes with the subject matter they contained, perhaps? Pagos was beginning to think that it was worth a few decades of their time to tackle the question with intense study. Maybe someday, when their old form thinned and travel over rougher terrain became more difficult.

  Jiang climbed the rest of the way up the bookcase, surprising Pagos by slipping out of his clothes and sliding along the top of the weathered wood a bit before looking down to regard his visitor, what could be gathered of his old form coming completely to the surface. The dragon could not reach his old size, but he was still impressive to look at. His scales still maintained a glossy green-blue, but his mane was faded and cat-fish whiskers almost as long as his body. His deer-like horns also seemed aged, knotted like ancient tree branches. The wood creaked as Jiang settled, bringing his claw to run through his beard in what appeared to be contemplation. Pagos, self-conscious now that their elder had changed his form, reverted to their own old form instinctively.

  Thankfully Pagos' old form was still human-sized, and so they did not need to disturb Byron too much in order to shed their clothes. Their more reptilian features came out, brownish scales hardening and bird-like legs causing them to toe off their shoes and stretch out their long toes. Raised ridges above their eyes sprouted, as well as a crest on the top of their head that started at the center of their forehead and ended at the back of their neck. They held Byron with one claw as they adjusted their goggles to make sure they didn't accidentally turn Jiang or his dog into stone. Hidden buttons at the back of their pants were undone, and a spiked tail slithered out, swishing twice to make sure no fabric was caught. Byron struggled a bit, but after Pagos shivered once in relief they returned to devoting both arms to Byron's comfort, and he settled immediately. Pagos might well have been mistaken for a newborn dragon of the east if not for the deadly tail and eyes.

  "Now that we are both a bit more comfortable," Jiang brought his tail forward to swing lazily in front of the bookcase and craned his head to look at Pagos from a higher vantage point, "I'll hazard a guess and say you need another book or two." Pagos winced slightly, turning their gaze to Byron as they carded their claws through the thick fur, much to Byron's approval. Jiang waited. After a few moments, Pagos responded softly, "Yes. The weasel... I mean... Hori. Hori got the tapestry before I could..." Jiang hummed in sympathy, but said nothing else to respond to this new information. The sudden use of the kamaitachi's more rarely used names intrigued the librarian, but commenting on it would likely be unwise. It caused one to wonder, however, just how this rivalry of theirs was developing. Most interesting indeed.

  "Well, any contents in this library are yours to use. I know any of my books will be safe in your charge." Ducking their head, Pagos tried to hide their embarrassed glee at the compliment, but Jiang could see the quavering grin from where he was coiled. It often surprised Jiang how prideful Pagos could be, any treasures lost to the wind weasel often met with much brooding on the basilisk's part. But every creature had their soft spots, he supposed.

  Pagos suddenly seemed to remember something and became a bit somber, looking up at Jiang as their crest lowered closer to their skin, a sign of trepidation. "Do you... have any books on the wells of Longwitton?" Jiang thought for a moment, toying with his beard as he mentally sifted through his catalog. Longwitton sounded familiar, but he couldn't place why. After accumulating so many books, he found some difficulty remembering every single subject in them. Wells, wells... why would Pagos feel hesitant about asking where some wells were? He could remember precisely where to find books on that area of Great Britain, however. Intent on finding this information, and suddenly curious, Jiang lifted himself from the bookcase and glided through the air above Pagos, twisting toward where he might find the books asked for. Pagos followed close behind, soon needing to put Byron down in order to run unimpeded. They hated
when Jiang took off like that. At least he doesn't float completely over the bookcases like he used to. Pagos wasn't sure if they could climb and jump across them fast enough, not without tipping a few over. Again. Hot in pursuit of the basilisk was Byron, barking in indignation at having to speed after his former transport.

  Jiang was soon circling the bookcase he had been seeking, slithering down to the third up shelf to pull the eighth book to the right. It was a larger tome, an atlas of Great Britain. Jiang always had better luck recalling particulars of places when he could see where it was on a map. But before he could even find it on the worn pages, he had a sudden memory of where he had heard of Longwitton before. Many years ago, in the age where his western cousins had been hunted to near extinction, there had been three wells of healing. The Wells of Longwitton. A dragon with scales of emerald, their name not even recorded, took up responsibility to guard these wells, using their ability of camouflage to protect themselves from intruders. Humans, angry that they could not use the wells whenever they pleased and fearful of what they could not see, called for the dragon’s death. Just one drop in the vast ocean of murders that would occur in those years.

  The Age of the Hunted. That was what many immortals called this time. Not that any year is free of bloodshed, or destruction of the mysterious. But it was a time when news began traveling faster, and there was an awareness of what was taking place miles away that had not been present before. Jiang remembered well the torture of the daily news he’d hear from travelers and letters from acquaintances in the thick of danger. The fear, the disquiet. The need to begin hiding.

  A shudder wracked through Jiang, as he curled around himself on the top of the bookcase. Pagos knew Jiang hated recalling this time. Why the young one had seemed uneasy now was clear. The time when legends slowly twisted, to erase or rewrite the lives of immortals and humans as the ability to record the past and present became more accessible... a blessing and a curse, to those who had magic in their blood. The atlas still in Jiang’s clutches, he smoothed the page he had wrinkled in his claws as he had been seized with memory. A great sense of agitation was suddenly present in the library, as the books sensed their librarian’s mood.

  Pagos, feeling the change in the air, slowed as they approached the ancient dragon, who was still peering at the contents of the atlas. Guilty, and somewhat ashamed, Pagos came closer with a lowered head, not raising their eyes to the librarian. They had known they should have found the information somewhere else. Anywhere else. To cause any discomfort to Jiang was to Pagos a great offense. But there was a reason why they sought these specific wells. And Jiang was their greatest confidant, so seeking information elsewhere almost seemed to be a greater snub then bringing the past to mind.

  “Tell me, small one. Why do you wish to know about this place?”

  Wincing at the flat tone Jiang used, Pagos scratched at the floor with their feet, unsettled, “The wells had great healing properties. If there is even a chance of there being any of the water left... I wanted to know. Collect some, if possible.”

  Closing the atlas with a loud snap, Jiang peered down at Pagos, softening somewhat at the sight of the other’s clear regret at bringing up such a sore subject. “You have been seeking many items of healing, the past few decades. The tapestry is the first treasure in a long time that had nothing to do with it.” Pagos adjusted their goggles nervously, but said nothing in response. Byron’s loud panting filled the awkward atmosphere as he shuffled to Pagos, dancing around their feet, demanding with a few barks to be lifted into their arms again. Pagos, a startled laugh escaping without their consent, knelt down to pick up the dog and began gratefully petting Byron’s soft fur.

  The heaviness of the air lifted somewhat, Jiang calming as he gazed at Pagos and Byron. He knew that the basilisk meant no offense at bringing up the past, and their need to know, to explore, was something Jiang would always admire. Truly, this basilisk was the closest Jiang had to an offspring. Ties to those of his own species were strained with age, mistakes, and the tangled politics of immortal beings. Dragons were a proud race, especially those from China. As the old forms faded and humans stopped seeking advice and favors, the need to preserve what was past seemed to be the only thing on the minds of eastern dragons. The future was hardly ever considered relevant. Jiang himself thought that way for many years, trying to collect books of the past, to hide and lock away as much of the old tales, myths, and stories as he could. But as immortals and humans alike came to him, asked him for his help and information, and as he got to know them... he slowly realized what was already written wasn’t the end. There was still more to write and experience.

  Jiang returned the atlas to its place. “I do not know what came of those wells, after their guardian was... lost. It is unlikely you will find anything left of those healing waters. I can tell you where they were, but that is all.” Coiling beside Pagos, Jiang tapped a claw on Pagos’ head, something he did often when Pagos thought they had done something wrong, “Do tell me what became of the place. It will be good to record for seekers of the future.”

  Finally meeting Jiang’s eyes, Pagos nodded slowly, “...Yes, of course. Jiang, I am sorry if...” Jiang tapped Pagos’ head again, “None of that. You worry over your poisonous nature, I assume?” Pagos tensed, once again looking away from their elder. Right on the mark then. Jiang patted Byron’s head and then took flight to the lobby of his library, calling behind him, “You did not worry so much in the past. I hope nothing happened.”

  Pagos watched Jiang leave, following a moment or two after, anxiety at being lost lessened now that they were closer to the lobby. Being a basilisk, Pagos could kill with either direct eye contact, or with poison they excreted from sacs in the back of their throat. The poison was so volatile, all one had to do was touch it or even inhale its fumes for a short time to be in danger of death. Jiang was right in that Pagos did not worry too much about it, since they did not have much occasion to use their poison. But... well, things sometimes got out of hand on their expeditions and... they had their reasons for wanting to be safer.

  In the lobby there was a large table and several chairs, as well as a small desk shoved to the side with writing supplies. Jiang shifted to his more human form, also retrieving a robe he kept in a desk drawer just in case he ever needed it. Beginning to sketch out a map, he wondered for the hundredth time if he should try to dissuade Pagos from their exploration. There was no telling what leftover magic or creatures were remaining at those wells, especially considering their powerful properties. But as usual, Jiang decided to keep his peace. It was clear Pagos had some kind of goal every time they went hunting, and adventuring was a tried and true way for immortals to become more aware of the world and how they would make their place in it. Besides, Pagos would not be alone, since that kamaitachi followed them most everywhere.

  When this had all begun, Jiang had gotten the impression that Pagos and the weasel had started this treasure hunting contest to find an alternative way to kill each other. Direct confrontation had always ended in stalemate. And those two had centuries of conflict behind them between their two species. Then again... Jiang turned to look at Pagos as they entered the lobby.

  Byron, set down by Pagos as they came to the desk, snuffled at Jiang’s feet a moment before snapping his attention to the entrance of the library, ears twitching and panting ceasing as he listened. Jiang looked at the entrance as well, a bit annoyed, “Someone is trying to get in.” Pagos hissed softly, changing back into their more human form and beginning to approach the entrance to take care of whoever was trying to invade Jiang’s territory. A hand on their shoulder stopped them, “I will take care of it. Follow close behind, if you would. Just in case.” Pagos nodded, and Jiang mounted the steps out to his smaller, more public library. He had a very good idea who was trying to pick the lock to the door leading to the street. It was almost a tradition at this point. He had never had Pagos present when he had this particular visitor, however. He almost looked forward t
o their reaction. It would likely be priceless.

  The bookcase folded, and Jiang moved quickly to the street entrance, flicking the lock and opening the door. Tumbling forward with a muffled curse, the kamaitachi Hori spilled into Jiang’s library, somewhat damp because of the drizzle that was now misting through the town. Jiang heard a strangled sound of surprise from Pagos, and loud barks of anger from Byron at the intruder. Hori winced at the high pitched sounds, looking up at Jiang, a sheepish grin on his face, “Almost did it. I’m gonna surprise you some day, old man.”

  Jiang disliked being called old man. He also disliked Hori to a small degree. But the immortal was also young, and Jiang felt some need to at least try and help this one mature somehow. The rivalry with Pagos, surprisingly, had helped much with this, but... “Turn off the alarm, will ya? I swear I ain’t here to spirit away your three volume novels.”

  But before Jiang could comment, Pagos strode forward, Hori’s face changing quickly from surprise to a wide grin, “Hey, lookit who it is-” Pagos grasped the collar of Hori’s thick jacket, dragging him to the door again amongst a squawk of protest, and hurled him into the street. As Hori sputtered something that sounded half apology, half mockery about the tapestry he had been able to snatch from the basilisk’s claws, Pagos closed the door again, throwing the lock back into position and huffing in disgust. Jiang, shoulders shaking in suppressed glee, tried his utmost to keep his expression neutral. Just as he thought. Priceless.

  Byron circled Pagos, excitedly barking in victory at the intruder being banished from his master’s home. Pagos patted his head, but then rounded on Jiang, who failed at stopping a snort of amusement from escaping. Pagos glowered at their mentor, “What was he doing here?” Jiang finally let a smile break free from his façade, “He often comes around to ask where you might be heading next. I promise I say nothing about your plans.” Jiang was about to further assure Pagos that his back library and well of knowledge was not at Hori’s disposal, but stopped short when he saw a very deep blush cover Pagos’ face. “He... asks about me?”