“That’s fine, but we need to forget this porch business and get to work on the ship,” Rey suggested “We won’t have to worry about the dragon when we leave here.” Seeing the older man stiffen at the suggestion, he scowled, “The dried meat isn’t for our voyage, is it. You plan on spending the winter here.”
Piers turned his back on him. “I haven’t announced it yet, but we don’t have time to finish the ship this year. It will have to wait, and we’ll begin construction in the spring.”
“The spring!” Rey fumed. “Anything else you’d like to let me in on?”
“I didn’t want to mention it until I had to,” the Mate soothed, his mind turning.
“Aye, or maybe you’ve decided we’re not ever getting off this rock,” the younger man accused.
Turning on his heel, the older man glared at him. “I want to go home as badly as the rest of you. But we spent too much time getting here. I can’t help that,” he shrugged. Indicating their shelter with a stiff hand, his voice grew loud. “We needed the cabin, Rey, and not just for comfort’s sake. Winter will be upon us any day now, with snow and ice. We can’t afford to lose anyone when it comes.”
His lips moving, the boy’s face flushed. “Ok, what about the dragon,” he hissed. “Fuck scaring the girls. They need to know he’s here and that we could be in danger.”
Shaking his head, the Mate disagreed, “I doubt we are in danger, generally speaking. If he meant us harm, it would have rained down upon us already.”
Shifting his eyes over at their cottage, Rey stared at the door Piers had added to their fireplace, so he could access it from the outside. Thinking of how the beasts had toyed with his friends and family on Domania, he growled, “You know damn well they used to burn us out just to watch us rebuild. What if he’s simply waiting so he can torch the place once the snow arrives?”
Blinking at him, Piers admitted in a calm voice, “I don’t have a reply for that. I don’t know what a dragon might be thinking. Honestly, I don’t like this news any more than you do. If he’s here, it could spell real trouble for us, but then again it could be nothing. I think we should keep an eye on Ami, and at this point that’s about all we can do.”
“I always look out for Amicia,” Rey snapped, clenching his fists.
“I mean a very close eye. If he’s here after one of us, I’m fairly certain it would be her.”
His brow furrowed, Reynard clipped, “Why her? Why not your precious Meena?”
Laughing anxiously, Piers coughed into his fist as he collected himself. “Meena is a wizard. She belongs here. Amicia does not. You have seen how the people of Eriden react to her. I’m pretty sure the dragon, if there is indeed a dragon watching us, is here for her.”
His eyes wide, the other man considered his logic. It was true, those they had encountered had been particularly interested in his intended. Could he be right, and she was the reason they were followed?
“I’ll watch her,” he quietly agreed, a sick feeling in the pit of his gut. “If he’s here and she knows about it, she may be helping him hide.”
His eyebrows lifting, the Mate growled, “Why would she do that?”
“You saw the way she protected him that night in the glen. She didn’t want us to harm him,” he recalled. “If he’s here, she may still feel the same way.”
His lips puckered, the Mate emitted a low whistle. “Well, that puts a wrinkle in things.” He had trusted the girl implicitly to that point, but if she were thinking of changing sides, the last thing he could do was allow her to endanger the rest of their group.
“Watch her then, and share anything you notice, whether it seems important or not.” As the other man turned, he called after him, “And don’t worry about the ship, Rey. We’ll get it built and be out of here before you know it.”
Frost in the Air
“I swear my balls are going to freeze off,” Bally announced, slamming the door shut after he entered the cabin, returning from a visit to the loo.
“That’s colorful,” Rey observed, stoking the fire.
In the center of their common room, Meena sat at her sewing machine, her feet turning the wheel. Sliding the cloth across the flat surface, she leaned over to have a better look at her stitches. “Damn, my eyes aren’t what they used to be,” she complained.
Standing, the Mate gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Why don’t you have a break, love. I estimate we have three more months before the thaw, and that gives you plenty of time to finish our changes of clothing.”
Sitting in the boxed window seat, which the Mate had installed from glazed panes of glass, Amicia sighed loudly. Using an extended digit, she drew a square upon the frost. Longing to hike up the mountain to visit her friend, she didn’t dare with the depth of the snow.
“Ami play with Lin,” the mermaid offered, presenting her box of shells that she had gathered before the weather had crashed seemingly overnight, plummeting them into the worst winter any of them had ever seen, including the elf.
“Not now,” the girl sighed.
“I’ll play,” Zae offered, accepting the small wooden carton. “Let’s go in the bedroom,” she suggested, indicating the room to the right, which the three girls shared.
“I could make us some tea,” Baldwin offered, his voice cheerful.
Laughing, Animir croaked, “So bored you’ve taken to cooking?”
“Tea isn’t cooking,” Bally countered with a punch to the other man’s chest. “It’s called being helpful.”
“And bored,” Meena interjected, not looking up from her stitching. “Thank you. I’d love some.” Their kettle had come from her home in the desert, another item it had surprised her they had thought to bring for her.
Opening another wooden container that held the dried leaves, Baldwin selected a few and placed them on their table. Then he filled their kettle and hung it over the fire. Finally, he selected their cups while he hummed.
“You’re in a chipper mood,” the Mate observed, taking a seat at the flat surface and observing the others.
“I’m used to winters,” he replied. “We worked hard growing up and even in the cold we had to keep busy.”
Hearing only half the conversation, Amicia turned her head. “Are you finally ready to tell us where you’re from?” she asked tartly. He had told many stories when it had been his turn upon their flat, and she believed every single one had been a lie.
Glancing around, he swallowed, “What makes you think I haven’t?”
“Oh, come on,” she spat, getting to her feet to face him.
“Hey, hey!” Piers also stood, holding a hand up at each of them. “Some don’t do so well at being locked up for long periods, so let’s all calm down. If Bally has something to share, we can listen respectfully.”
Glaring at him, the girl took a second chair at their table. “Fine. Tell,” she spat, folding her hands in front of her.
Tending to his water, the boy kept his back to her for a few minutes, his mood greatly reduced. “I grew up on the northern continent,” he sighed. “Wilderness, mostly. Like this here, filled with large trees, which grew up the sides of equally steep mountains. We felled them year-round and sent them down the river to the mill.”
“A wood mill?” Amicia asked, not familiar.
“Aye,” he agreed with a somber nod. Their water boiling, he opened the lid and applied the leaves, placing it upon the table to steep.
“I didn’t come from a big family, like old Rey,” he continued, giving his friend a slanted grin. “It was just me, my brother, and our pop.”
“Was,” Amicia breathed, a sick feeling in the pit of her gut. She regretted her previous comments, but it was too late to take them back.
“My mum, she passed when we were both little. Having babies, that’s not guaranteed, and her third was her last,” he said quietly, wiping at his eyes. “I didn’t really know her. I have no idea why talking about her makes me cry.”
“Oh, Bally,” Ami sighed. “Let me take over
the tea,” she offered.
“I’ve got it,” he replied, giving her a small grin. Pouring portions into cups, he presented them each with a steaming glass. “Like I said, we felled the trees. When the forest ran low, a few farmers moved to the mountain, and my pop helped them build their cabins and barns,” he shared, his eyes roaming over the walls of their new home. “That’s where I learned about building and how to make them sturdy against the cold winds and driven snow.”
Watching him, the room had gone eerily silent, as if no one dared to even breathe as he spoke.
“We even got one for ourselves, there in the little community that was built,” he stalled, taking a loud sip.
“So, what happened to it,” Rey pushed, the tension wearing on him. “It can’t be worse than being attacked by dragons.”
“Oh, I dunno,” Bally shrugged. “At least the beasts left you with something. Some scrap of your life you could use to rebuild. We had only finished the house the year before, so it was a bit of a surprise that second winter when a great flood of snow cascaded down the slope.”
“Oh, dear God,” Ami breathed. “Your pop and your brother.”
“Aye,” Bally agreed. “We were asleep until right before it hit. Strange sound, snow crashing down the side of a mountain. It wiped out everything,” he explained, swiping his hands in a wide flat arch to demonstrate the destruction. “Gone. The whole town disappeared in a single night. No more than twenty of us survived.”
“Were you hurt?” Amicia dared to ask.
“Me? Not a scratch. Pop and Thomas, both dead when they were found, bloody messes. Frozen stiff from being lost in the snow.”
Shaking his head, the Mate grunted, “That’s a horrible way to go.”
“I don’t suppose there is a good way,” Meena observed, sipping her tea as she worked.
Her words to the point, Bally wore a shocked expression. His smile slow, he tried to suppress the laugh before it broke out and the group laughed with him. Holding the smile when the fit had passed, he sipped his tea and then observed, “You got me there. I do miss them at times, though. I joined the cargo ship as soon as I was able. Told myself if I ever had to live on the side of a mountain again, it would be too soon.”
Her eyes wide, Amicia glared at him, seeing his wide smile behind his cup. “You did it again, didn’t you!” she accused.
“Did what?” he laughed.
“I swear, you are a practiced liar, Baldwin Carter. You talk incessantly about rubbish, and lies drip from your lips –”
“Like snow upon the mountain,” he finished for her.
“It wasn’t a lie, was it,” Rey suggested, his arms firmly crossing his chest. “Was it?”
“Well, it was a good story,” the Mate interjected with a toast. “It’s a fine thing we are all apt at telling them, I give you that, with as many times as we’ve been trapped with only each other for company.”
Returning to her perch beside the window, Amicia felt cross, almost certain she had been drawn in by another of Bally’s tales. At least this time it didn’t feature a dragon, she mused. Leaning her head against the glass, she called to Lamwen. “Are you buried in snow?”
“I’m higher up the slope, in a small cave,” her friend replied. “Do not trouble yourself for me,” he commanded. “I’m an old dragon. I know how to stay warm when the frost comes.”
Smiling to herself, she replied, “I wish I could visit. I will miss not seeing you until the spring.”
“I’ll try to arrange a visit for you if I can, my princess,” he promised, lightening her mood as the evening fell upon them and darkness covered the land beyond their walls.
Dragon’s Lair
Amicia lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling above her. Listening to the silence, she felt certain the rest of their company slumbered. Resting her hand on the blanket that covered her, her mind traced the nights she had slept beneath it, from the first in Jerranyth among the elves, through their flight to the glen. Her pulse quickened as they crossed the desert, then marched north through the forest of Yilaric, until she arrived at this one. Damn.
Her bed the most comfortable she had rested in while in Eriden, save the spire in the elf city, she thought about how they had gathered the materials for them, laying a foundation of branches that had formed the mattresses from brush and grasses. After their walls were raised, Meena had sown a cover for each of them from the thicker cloth they had picked up in Heewan; the same one she had used to fashion each of them a new pair of pants.
Realizing her mind was too full to sleep, she slipped from beneath her cover and tiptoed from the room. In the kitchen, she prepared the pot for tea and stoked the fire. Waiting for the water to boil, she thought about gathering the leaves, along with a few other herbs and spices, before the snow began.
Who knew learning to be a spicer would come in so handy, she mused, her spirits briefly lifted at the quandary.
She had spent a few days working on canning a few preserves as well, all made from wild fruits and berries that they had come across. Everyone had gotten into the picking, once she had identified the best candidates, and their pantry had been fully stocked on the delicious temptations.
The hiss of her pot rising behind her, she pulled it off the flame and added the leaves, allowing it to steep while she stood before the large window that faced the sea. The only one in the house, the Mate had taken the time to build a forge before they got too far into their construction on the cottage.
Once he had, all their efforts became more rewarding, as he was able to construct better tools from the scraps of metal they had gathered in the ruins of Abolia. Finally, he melted a mixture of sand to form the glass for the panes before her and the scraps from the metal to build the thin edges that held each in place.
Returning to her tea, she poured her cup, then sat with it, curling her legs beneath her as she observed the waves rippling beneath the moon. Sipping the warm beverage, her mind continued to turn, as the window before her took on a thin layer of frost. Touching it, she drew pictures in the mist.
Hearing a noise from across the room, she turned to see the couple’s door remained shut. The other rooms, the ones the rest of the house shared, were only covered with a curtain, which afforded a minimal amount of privacy for them. The Mate had installed an actual wooden cover for him and Meena, which thankfully muffled the sound of their making love on the other side.
Ami’s heart pained by jealousy, a warm flush tinted her skin as she considered their activities. Compelled to escape, she placed her cup on the table and slipped into her bedroom, where she put on her clothes as silently as she could. Then, carrying her boots, she returned to the window box, where she put them on, along with her coat and gloves.
Exiting, she pulled the door closed behind her, shutting it so gently that no sound had been made at her departure. Marching around the side, she left under the pretense of visiting the loo, but after she passed it, her thoughts continued to turn. Only after she was half way up the slope did she recall her dragon friend no longer languished in the clearing where she had seen him last.
Reaching out to him through the darkness, she called, “Lamwen.”
After a long pause, he replied, “Yes?” sleep in his voice.
“I’ve decided upon a visit,” she sniffed. “How can I find you?”
“Now?” he asked, his voice steadier and somewhat disturbed.
“Yes, now,” she laughed. “They are asleep, so I don’t have to worry about being caught.”
“Very well,” he agreed. “Come up to the peak, and I will await you at the mouth of my den.”
“Your den,” she chuckled, the word sounding more cozy and personal than cave. Marching through the snow, she pretended not to notice the cold, her heart set upon the stolen moments she would share with him.
The trail rough and difficult under the blanket of frost, she fought her way to the top, not stopping until she noticed a burst of flame to her left, the bright orange illuminating
the sky above the slumbering trees. “Is that the signal?” she giggled.
“Yes, I see you have drawn near,” he agreed.
Crossing warily, she arrived as he backed into the inner space. “Move to the back,” he growled. “I’ll warm the air, and you will be more comfortable.”
His thoughtfulness cheered her, and she did as he instructed. Pulling her hamar gem from her pocket, she lit the small space with a bright glow. Puffing a few breaths of warmed air, he blocked most of the entrance with his large form so that it only escaped at a slow rate.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile she did not feel.
“Something troubles you,” he observed. “Am I the shoulder you wish to cry upon?”
“I guess that you are,” she sighed, a quaver in her voice. Falling against his neck when he had settled down, she closed her eyes and listened to the beat of his heart. “I don’t know if I will ever get over him,” she confessed.
“Rubbish,” the dragon replied. “The mortal is beneath you, princess. Think nothing of him. One day you will have a mate who matches your rank, of that you can be certain.”
“You sound like an elf,” she informed him with a quiet laugh, suddenly very tired. “Would you mind if I slept?”
“Slept? Here?” He could hardly believe she had climbed all that way to simply fall asleep. “I thought you wanted to whine over your human.”
Shaking her head, she giggled. “I’m finished complaining. I want to sleep. I couldn’t rest in my own bed, but now I feel completely ready,” she explained, turning and sitting with her back against him.
“Very well, if you must,” he agreed, curling a wing across her.
Comforted by his gesture, she toyed with the leathery skin that formed the appendage, thinking fondly of his ability to soar above the earth. The thoughts distractingly soothing, she relaxed as she closed her eyes, her fingers still wrapped around her elven stone.
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