Dorelle's Journey

by Hannah Steenbock

  Dorelle wished they could get to the land faster. Waiting until their gentle approach brought them there was almost torture.

  Emerald green showed above a ring of spray.

  “Hurrah!” Dorelle almost clapped her hands with joy. Vegetation meant water, meant a new resting place. It might even mean a better future than that barren island which had allowed the hop to this one.

  It does look much nicer, Mashira conceded.

  The sun was dipping into the ocean to the west when they finally settled down on a wide beach, finding shelter under some huge trees. Next to their resting place, a little brook bubbled happily.

  Dorelle sighed in bliss. “This is so much better than the place we came from. Let’s get a good rest.”

  Soon they were curled up in the warm sand, falling into sleep easily.

  DORELLE WOKE with a start when her dragon growled and rumbled deep in her chest. A moment later, Mashira jumped into flight, showering her with sand. Flames roared from her mouth, bright in the moonless night.

  “What…?” The question died on her tongue, as the brief fire illuminated three large shapes ducking between trees. Cats. Stalking. Hunting her.

  Run to the waterline. I will pick up you there.

  Dorelle ran. Rushing sounds made it very clear the cats were following her. She was their prey.

  She glanced back, stumbled in the deep sand and fell. With two leaps, the cats were on her. One sank its teeth into her leg, the other clawed at the arms she had lifted protectively. The third circled her expectantly. Dorelle screamed.

  A moment later, Mashira was there. One swipe of her foreleg shoved the cat away from Dorelle’s head, breaking its back. One bite, and the cat shredding her leg was relaxing in death. A well-aimed flame singed the coat of the last cat as it ran for its life.

  Dorelle sagged back into the sand. Her leg throbbed, her arms burned, and she felt like she would never be able to get up again.

  Mashira landed beside her, nudging her gently.

  Dorelle sensed how worried her dragon was. But a terrible lethargy overcame her, beneath all the pain.

  You are bleeding a lot, Mashira said, very worried. You have to bandage your wounds.

  That made sense. Dorelle lifted her head, then tried to roll over on one side.

  Hang on to my head. I’ll help you.

  Dorelle found that she had some strength in her arms, even though they were also bleeding. She grabbed some of the teeth in Mashira’s mouth and let the dragon pull her up to her feet.

  That’s good. Hang on.

  Too bad her dragon couldn’t carry her. Dorelle stumbled back to her camp, clinging to her dragon with every ounce of strength she had left. She slipped to the ground next to her blanket.

  “I need water to clean those wounds,” she said, after looking at her leg. The cat had left deep gouges in her calf.

  Mashira dropped her water bag next to her.

  “Oh.” Dorelle tried to shake the lethargy and weakness that was washing over her. “I need my pack, too. Will have to tear a shirt.”

  Even to her, her voice sounded weak and slurry.

  A moment later, her dragon dropped the pack next to her.

  Dorelle managed to pour some water over her leg and her arms, and then asked Mashira to shred her second best shirt. With shaking hands, she wrapped the shreds around her leg but didn’t manage to bind her arms before darkness descended on her.

  She woke in the middle of the night, with thirst tormenting her. The water bag must be close, she remembered. And Mashira was also curled close, her wings twitching nervously.

  You are awake.

  “Somewhat.”

  Are you feeling better?

  Dorelle pondered that. Her wounds were throbbing with pain and she was a little dizzy. Instead of answering, she felt around until her hands encountered her water bag. She drank deeply and then took a deep breath.

  “A little.”

  Mashira relaxed somewhat. Good.

  Dorelle finally allowed herself to face the entire situation. And it didn’t look good.

  “We must find help, Mashira. I don’t think I can survive this on my own. I haven’t really cleaned the wounds, and cat bites are nasty, my mom always said. I need a healer.”

  She had to take a few deep breaths after that. How would she find help out here? Flying back home was impossible; she wouldn’t survive the long flights at third cloud height.

  We will fly on, Mashira said staunchly. And I will find a healer for you.

  The dragon sounded so fierce that Dorelle had to chuckle despite herself. “Help me pack, then, while I’m still able to think. And we’ll fly at sunrise.”

  Earlier. At first light.

  “All right, dear dragon.”

  Mashira carried everything to Dorelle, who stuffed her pack with her things. Getting the harness on the dragon would be a challenge, and she didn’t even want to think about mounting.

  We will manage.

  “Yes.” Dorelle felt the burst of strength ebbing. “Wake me at first light.” She managed to find a comfortable position before her eyes closed.

  When Mashira nudged her, she had to drag herself out of a darkness so pervasive that it scared her. What if she couldn’t wake up the next time? She ignored that thought with an effort and concentrated on getting up.

  The throbbing pain in her leg had gotten worse. She pushed herself into a sitting position anyway. Her arms were surprisingly strong, despite the claw wounds. She looked up at her dragon.

  Somehow, Mashira had wiggled into her harness, including the saddle. All that remained for Dorelle to do was to buckle the straps. And her dragon sat so close to her that she could do it without getting up.

  Strap on the pack and your sword, and then we’ll see about getting you up on my back.

  Dorelle managed a weak smile. Mashira crouched on the sand so that her rider could reach the rings to tie on her pack and sword. She would never leave her weapons.

  Hang on to the harness, and I’ll roll again. You’ll be almost up in the saddle that way.

  Obviously, her dragon had already thought through the whole process, she realized with exhausted admiration. Then she reached up with trembling arms and clung to the harness.

  Mashira rolled again, taking Dorelle with her and leaving her lying on her back.

  Strap yourself in now, she said.

  Dorelle’s fingers trembled, but she tightened the straps over her legs and clipped more safety straps to her belt.

  Lie down and hook your hands through my neck strap.

  That made sense. It was a relief to stretch out on Mashira’s neck, as much as her spikes would let her. Exhausted, Dorelle closed her eyes.

  I’m taking off now. Rest as much as you can. I’ll find help.

  Dorelle certainly hoped so. She noticed that the cuts on her arms were still bleeding sluggishly. Gradually, she drifted off to an uneasy kind of semi-awareness. It was up to her dragon now.

  Mashira took them up to third cloud height again. Dorelle shivered in the cold air, but she just closed her eyes and tried to melt into the warmth of her dragon.

  This island is bigger than I thought, the voice of her dragon interrupted her half-aware musings. But I see no smoke or other sign of people. It’s all forest.

  “Is there more land in the distance?” Dorelle tried to focus as she lifted her head.

  Yes. I can see more clouds like the ones that led us here.

  “Try there.” Dorelle rested her cheek on Mashira’s neck again and closed her eyes.

  Rest, the dragon said. I will find help for you.

  Dorelle sank into an uneasy sleep.

  IT SEEMED only moments later when she pried her eyes open and discovered that the sun was almost setting… setting behind a large mountain chain. She blinked a few times, but the image didn’t change.

  “Where are we?” she whispered.

  I found land. A lot of land. And there is smoke rising from somewhere ahead. We’ll fi
nd people there.

  Dorelle sighed with relief. Her body ached relentlessly, and all she wanted was to find a healer.

  Mashira followed the coastline towards the source of the smoke and descended on a fishing village that looked very similar to Dorelle’s old home.

  “Be careful,” Dorelle whispered.

  Always.

  Mashira angled down, gliding in from the sea. Dorelle noticed that the dragon had shifted her color to a golden hue.

  Screams greeted them as they landed, then a rock or two came flying into their direction. Soon, three men approached them, one armed with bow and arrow, one carrying a pitchfork, and the third brandishing a sword and a rusty shield.

  It seems they do not like dragons. Mashira sounded more amused than angry.

  Dorelle pushed herself upright. Her arms throbbed and one wound started bleeding again. Despite her pain, she waved to the men.

  The one with the sword came closer.

  Mashira folded her wings and lowered her head to the ground.

  “Please,” Dorelle said and felt her voice break. It was too weak to reach the man, but he cocked his head. Making a sudden decision, he sheathed his sword and strode up to her.

  Then he said something Dorelle didn’t understand. Her spirits sank. How could she talk to them if they didn’t speak her language? She started shaking.

  He wants to know if you need help. And if I’m safe. Mashira chuckled.

  Dorelle swallowed hard and took a few deep breaths to steady her swimming head. Then she unclipped the safety straps.

  “Yes, I need help,” she said, pointing to her leg wounds.

  The man’s eyes widened. Once again, he said something she didn’t understand.

  He wants to know if it’s safe to come closer to me.

  Dorelle nodded and patted her dragon’s neck, to demonstrate that she was peaceful.

  Then she realized that she wouldn’t be able to dismount. Her legs had no strength left.

  Wave him back. I’ll lie down and roll a little.

  Dorelle did as she was told, and the man retreated a few steps, frowning at her. Understanding dawned in his eyes as Mashira lay down and rolled on her side so that Dorelle could slide her leg over her back easily.

  When Dorelle’s final bit of strength gave out and she just slipped off Mashira’s back helplessly, he was there to catch her and ease her to the ground.

  THE NEXT days were a blur. Dorelle knew her dragon was with her every minute and often translated what people were saying to her. But more often, she was cold and hot and cold again, tossing, in pain and vaguely aware of being incoherent.

  Finally, the day came when she opened her eyes and looked around and actually saw where she was. The small room was clean, with whitewashed walls, one window and the bed she was lying in. A wooden bed, she realized, with a straw mattress and a wonderfully soft blanket.

  She looked around some more and found a wizened old woman sleeping in an armchair next to her bed.

  Do not wake her, Mashira said. She is exhausted from tending you.

  Dorelle smiled. I won’t. I’m just glad I’m myself again.

  You ARE better! Her dragon crooned in her mind, and Dorelle imagined her shifting on her legs excitedly.

  I think so. My leg still hurts, and I feel weak and tired, but I can think again.

  That is very good. Now I can teach you to speak their way.

  Dorelle frowned. How do you do that?

  Just relax.

  Dorelle did so, trusting her dragon more than ever before. Knowledge filled her mind, strange sounds and words, and new concepts. She allowed herself to take it all in, gently, without resistance. It felt like a new layer in her brain. Gradually, she drifted off to sleep again.

  EVENTUALLY, SHE became aware of voices. Gentle, soft voices, compassionate and warm.

  “I think she’s doing better today. The fever has finally broken.”

  “Still wonder what caused those wounds. It looked like huge cats, but there are none around here.”

  “She came on the flying beast. We don’t know how far she’s been flying with it.”

  Dorelle opened her eyes. “It’s not a flying beast. Mashira is a dragon.”

  She almost laughed at the heads that whipped around instantly. Instead, she smiled. “Thank you for caring for me. And those cats were on an island far from here. You are in no danger from them.”

  “That is good to know,” an older man said and returned her smile with a wavering one of his own. “We have enough problems in the Cloud Lands as it is, and thinking of such large cats made me worry even more.”

  Dorelle realized that the man’s stressed expression was less about her than she thought. “What kind of problems?”

  The man sighed and tears filled his eyes. “We have lost several fishing boats. With their crews. Now we only have three left.”

  Dorelle knew without asking that he probably lost some friends and possibly children. It had happened often enough in Hery Bay.

  “As soon as I’m able to ride Mashira again, I can guard your fishing boats from aloft. Maybe we can find out what’s happening.”

  The tears spilling over the old man’s wrinkled cheeks were answer enough.

  HEALING TOOK longer than Dorelle hoped, but the holes and gashes in her leg and arms were deep and took time to close. At least she was soon able to hobble about and sit in the sun. Then she helped gut fish from the latest catch, a task she was very familiar with. Often, Mashira curled up close to her, not wanting to let her rider out of her sight.

  One clear morning, when all women were waiting for the fishing boats to come in from a night of fishing, Dorelle became aware of unease among the women. She turned to one of them she had befriended as much as was possible in this short time.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “They are late,” Serlun said. “It’s good weather with a fair wind, they should be home already.”

  The worry spread like a wildfire.

  Dorelle made a quick decision. “Mashira and I will fly and look for them. I can handle a short flight.”

  “Oh, would you?” Serlun was wringing her hands.

  “Yes, but I will need help with her gear. I can’t carry it all yet.”

  “I’ll do it!” Serlun ran, and two other young women came with her.

  In next to no time, Mashira was saddled, and Dorelle made her painful way up on her dragon’s back.

  As soon as they lifted, however, the dull ache in her leg faded to insignificance. It was so good to ride her dragon again!

  It is where you belong, Mashira said in her mind. And now we’ll find those fishing boats.

  With strong wings, the dragon took them up to the second cloud height. The good weather gave them a perfect view of the coast and the sea beyond it.

  It was easy to spot the sails. They were indeed far out. Dorelle narrowed her eyes. And they were not exactly sailing, either. Instead, the boats seemed to move strangely.

  “They are in trouble, Mashira! Let’s go there quickly!”

  The dragon dove down from the second cloud height, hastening them along with great sweeps of her wings.

  As they got closer, Dorelle realized that while the three fishing boats were trying to use the strong steady wind to sail towards the shore, they were being pulled away from their course.

  And she couldn’t see how.

  Magic?

  “I have never seen magic strong enough to do that,” Dorelle answered. The truth was, she had seen precious little magic as it was. Ferren had always said it was dying out and there was no use relying on it.

  The wind rushing in their ears, dragon and rider dove closer. She could discern men hacking at something on board the small ships. It didn’t make sense at all, they weren’t dragging sea anchors.

  Then something moved in the water near one of the ships. She watched a couple of tentacles reach out and wrap more firmly around the hull of the ship furthest away from the shore. The boat listed in the
water, and men screamed.

  Tentacles? They were huge.

  Dorelle knew octopus. They were sometimes caught with the fish and were considered good food fried in oil. But seeing tentacles that big felt… obscene.

  “We have to help them!” she cried.

  She felt the rumble in Mashira’s belly as the dragon prepared to breathe fire on the sea creatures.

  Of all the things she had expected, a fight wasn’t among them. Dorelle’s fingers flew as she pulled the safety straps closer and tightened them down despite the pain in her leg. She regretted not bringing her bow or her sword.

  Mashira dropped into a tight curl and spouted flame against the tentacles clinging to the ship. Carefully, she avoided setting the boat on fire.

  A massive creature rose out of the water. A huge reddish head with enormous dark eyes and a sharp beak lunged at the dragon. Mashira barely evaded it, veering directly into the path of a lashing tentacle. Dorelle ducked as the dragon dove underneath the appendage with a roar and more flames.

  The dragon gained height quickly, away from the tentacles. They had let go of the boat, and the crew was frantically steering it away from the sea creature. Dorelle noticed their change of course with relief. Yet she had no way of dealing with this… this…

  Kraken. That’s what they call them, Mashira said, her voice full of hate. She angled back down, fire flaming, just as that ugly head reared up out of the water again. Flames engulfed the huge eyes and the beak. With a gurgling scream, the creature sank back beneath the waves, the tentacles suddenly limp.

  “Is it dead?”

  I don’t think so. But it won’t fight anymore.

  Already the dragon was heading towards another fishing boat that was still struggling with a kraken of its own.

  This time, the dragon knew what she was aiming for, and the fight was short-lived. When they reached the third ship, however, the kraken let it go and lunged at the dragon instead. One tentacle wrapped around Mashira’s left foreleg and pulled.

  Screaming, the dragon tilted heavily to one side, throwing Dorelle hard against the safety straps. The dragon grabbed the tentacle with her other leg, just as a second tentacle snaked around and wrapped itself around the dragon’s neck.