by N. Saraven
Rita closed her eyes, surrendering to the forces around her. She could sense that she was pulled backwards, yet nothing too specific. A little later she lost consciousness.
7. Questions and answers
After the glare, when Neila could see again, she discovered that the Rim had closed. She looked at its place, frowning and speculating.
“What now? We lost her?” asked Halgor, as he leaned on the rail and stared at the sky. After she thought it through as best she could, Neila shook her head.
“No, most certainly not,” she said. “If she got so far, she won’t give up now. There are other questions here.”
“Why her? How could she create a Rim? And why is she directing it here?” mused the elven.
“The ‘why her’ is easy: just because. She is probably lonely, and she cannot find her place among hers. I think this gave her the strength to do all of this. Furthermore, I have a feeling that she took the first and most important step. I think she can be our guest at any time now,” she murmured, gazing intensely at her right hand. The glare was created when they touched each other.
“She chose us …? But how did she know that we live in the Tower?” asked the dark mage. He looked unconvinced as he slowly swayed his head. He had lived many circles now and would not be considered inexperienced anymore, not even in the eyes of the elvens. Yet now he felt a newbie again. When they had finally caught up with the happenings, the facts changed once more, making them fall back. Again …
And losing control was not a thing that either of them liked.
“Maybe … we should ask her that when she gets here,” said Neila reluctantly. Uncertainty shone in her eyes.
“Ask her …?”
“Yes. Something tells me that a connection of some kind was created between us. This can make everything easier for her. I think …” she muttered as she strolled back to the room. The elven followed her, still swaying his head.
Something felt wrong with this whole situation.
If this could happen once, can it again? the dark mage asked himself. Why between these two worlds? Is there something deeper in the background, or is this another game or negligence of the Gods?
Halgor’s guess was that these questions would never be answered.
8. A little rest
Balint Bowman walked up the stairs to Rita’s room, in what had become an annoying task lately. Very uncharacteristically, Rita overslept many times nowadays. In these times, he had to wake her eventually. Balint knew her well enough, so he worried about the forming situation. Negligence was not something Rita would embrace gladly. She loved everything in precise order—neat and perfect. Being late was unacceptable for her; she loathed when she got ready just on time. So she would rather wake up way earlier than needed to have enough time, for sure.
Balint opened the door in a grumpy mood, mumbling to himself. At first he just blinked rapidly to get used to the darkness in the room. After a few seconds, he could see Rita still lying in her bed far across the room, despite the fairly loud alarm. Balint inhaled deeply as he walked to the window and pulled up the shades. But Rita still did not even wince, which was more than peculiar.
Balint stepped to her, worried. He tried gentle motions at first, then a firm shake to wake her. Nothing worked, however, which made fear crawl up his spine. He tried to confine it because nothing indicated that he had to worry. As he looked over Rita more closely, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She was clearly breathing slowly and evenly, her features calm. Furthermore, Starlight showed no awareness as animals should when their guardian was in danger.
Balint finally gave up speculating and called the doctor. He waited for his arrival, sitting on Rita’s bed, stroking the purring Starlight. As Balint gazed at his daughter, suddenly he discovered her paleness and the dark circles around her eyes, as if she had not slept much in weeks.
His first thoughts were that Rita might have gotten into some kind of trouble, or in a bind of some sort. Then he snorted and dismissed the thought. She always behaved as ‘good girls’ should—concentrated on her studies, always came home on time, and would rather spend time with a couple of books than friends. The few times when she wanted a ‘party’ usually meant that she and Indi got together, shut her bedroom door, and read beside one another as they munched on snacks and drank soda. Then, feeling the sugar rush, they engaged in a heated discussion about the stories.
Balint would never forget the one time when Rita actually invited four people to a sleepover, three of them young adolescent boys who belonged to another class in school. They stacked up a lot of junk food and shut the door again. Then around midnight, Balint had heard screaming, cursing, and thudding, as if all hell had broken loose. He had immediately run upstairs with his heart in his throat, but when he barged in to help avoid the imagined catastrophe, he found himself across from five surprised gazes only, looking at him, baffled, behind the laptops. When he asked for an explanation, the shouting began again, yet not towards him. From what he could gather in the chaos, they just lost something called ‘a ranked game’, which apparently cost them their ‘promo’ …
Overall, Balint felt very happy about his relationship with his daughter. Rita had never tried to sneak behind his back, as far as he could tell. She openly admitted when she and Anna got drunk, because they wanted to try it out when Indi’s parents were away on a business trip. Or when she asked him to buy cigarettes for the same reason.
Balint had never really been opposed to these ‘young experiments’, as he called them. He too was a teenager once, and he remembered how he loathed his parents’ behaviour towards these things. Because they strictly banned him from taking any such ‘wild rides’, he went behind their backs. He made friends with the ‘cool kids’, got their backs when they shoplifted small items, and so on—never anything too risky or dangerous, just crossing the line enough for him to feel the thrill.
He never wanted Rita to feel the same way, so when she got to eleven or so (he too hated how young the kids these days started to ‘grow up’, as they liked to call their rebellion phase), he openly discussed such matters with her. He remembered how surprised she was when he basically gave his blessing to everything she wanted to try out—if she talked to him about it first, so that he could give opinions in the matter, then Rita could decide what to do.
It was a huge gamble, and maybe Balint would not have done this with anybody else. Nonetheless, with Rita it worked beautifully. She truly honoured their arrangement.
So now Balint had nothing to worry about. Yet something started to close up his throat. He too was a teenager once … No matter how ‘cool’ the parents were, kids needed their secrets.
Ashamed, blushing even, Balint grabbed Rita’s arms and looked them over for needle marks, or anything unusual. He gave a relieved sigh when he saw nothing of the sort, even though that would not necessarily mean that he could rule out drugs completely … but alas, he could do nothing further without betraying Rita’s trust. Especially since she would be smart enough not to stack such items anywhere in the house.
Balint went back to square one. Maybe the solution lay on the other side of the horse—she overworked herself. She always dreamt big, maybe too big, which often resulted in too much studying or practising.
Of course, Balint blamed himself. He tried to spend as much time with Rita as he could, but as a single parent it was more than difficult. He worked as a carpenter, a fine one at that too, thus he had plenty of orders. This meant a comfortable living regarding the money, albeit at the same time they could spend little time together. Not to mention that he was an aikido trainer too and had two classes per week, although he was thinking of giving that one up for good.
The bell brought Balint back to the present, so he immediately stormed down to open the gate for the doctor.
“They won’t bite, will they?” asked the doctor worriedly as he stood uneasy in front of the gate, eyeing the barking dogs.
“No, no, but if you want, I can put t
hem in the garage,” replied Balint. His hand rested on the handle, yet he did not open the gate itself until the guest said so.
The doctor was a balding, stocky little man with huge glasses, which he now pushed back nervously on his nose. He stared at the dogs, thoroughly thinking through the situation. Meanwhile the two Golden Retrievers stopped barking; they only gazed at the guest with tails held high, sniffing the air.
“No, no, they seem nice and submissive. But if they prove me wrong, I’ll send you my new pants’ bill,” decided the doctor, so Balint opened the gate with a faint smile.
The guest held his doctor’s case high, while he wobbled through the sniffing dogs. It was well known of him that he adored animals, but he was afraid of anything what could bite, sting, or kick. Thus he had fish. Small and harmless fish.
Following Balint’s instructions, they headed for Rita’s room upstairs. Her condition remained the same as when he left her. The doctor examined Rita thoroughly, sometimes mumbling under his breath.
“Well?” asked Balint impatiently.
“I must confess that I have never met such a case. As if she were sleeping in a really deep state, almost at the rim of a coma. Anyhow, I’ll try to wake her up,” replied the doctor, and he fished out a flask from his case. Balint peeked at the white label on the brown glass—(NH4)2CO3, which said nothing to him.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Dr Dromedary, what is that?” asked the father. As he answered, the doctor opened the bottle, then leaned over Rita and moved it under her nose a few times.
“Oh this? Ammonium carbonate or, in other words, smelling salts. Terrific against fainting,” he announced, smiling when Rita shivered from the intense stinging smell. He then put away the bottle.
Rita moaned and scrubbed her eyes, then she looked around, confused. She obviously was not in the present in mind.
“How are you feeling?” asked Balint.
“So … strange …” she replied slowly, as if her tongue would not work properly; her eyes started to close again, but she fought to leave them open. “I am so tired. And dizzy … I cannot even think …”
“Yes, it is perfectly normal, I guess. Well then, I suggest you rest as much as possible, Missy,” the doctor ordered. “Other than that, there is nothing to worry about; she is quite healthy. Drink and eat regularly, something dietary for the next couple of days, maybe take vitamins also. It seems that stress finally got to her. Anyhow, rest for the week, and if there are any more problems, call,” said Dr Dromedary. He picked up his things and headed downstairs. Balint followed him to let him out, thanking him for his effort as they strolled.
Rita did not hear any of their noises. She still lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, although her eyes did not regard the white panelling. Rather, she concentrated on the energy-flows around her and the window that led to the black Tower. For some reason, even in her current condition, it took almost no effort for her to create the passageway. As if nothing held her back anymore, or she had managed to break through some kind of blocking wall.
So Rita stood again just above the rail of the balcony, staring at the glass entrance. She hesitated. Her heart pounded heavily as adrenaline rushed through her system. It meant a big step for her, albeit not literally. She gathered her strength to actually go into another world. To an unknown planet.
Or was it …?
No, of course not. I’ve read so much about it. About them, Rita thought, which proved to be comforting. As her fears gave up their place, she started to tremble in excitement. She closed her eyes for a few more seconds, taking deep breaths to calm herself.
When she looked up again, she felt ready as ever.
She carefully climbed down to the balcony, then straightened up again. She had to wait for a few more seconds to actually take in what she was about to do. She felt the warmness of the black stones under her feet, heated up by the spring Sun. She peered inside the room, which now lay empty before her. She hesitated a little, then decided to let herself in. It should not be a problem, even if she had arrived unannounced. Neila herself invited her last time; maybe the two Masters were already on their way.
Rita started for the balcony door and grabbed the handle. To her surprise, the door opened silently. Then she scoffed. Why on earth would it be closed, you dummy …? she chided herself. Her heart throbbed as she slipped inside. She tenderly closed the door, then took a few more steps forwards as she looked around. She started to wander around in amazement.
The comfortable aura in the room calmed Rita. She forgot her fears, regardless that her heart still pounded heavily. Under her feet the carpet felt really funny. It had longer strings than she was used to, so it almost felt as if the floor were waving.
Rita decided that she liked it, then put this out of her head as she glanced around more thoroughly.
On her left stood a line of cases, cabinets, and bookshelves, following the roundness of the room. They all were fully stuffed with codices, books, scrolls, and papers; furthermore, there were items made of all kinds of materials in every size and form—little pots, vials, boxes, and many other things Rita could not identify from a glimpse. They filled everything, yet some kind of strict order ruled them.
Every possible space was used as practically as it could be. Only one part of the wall remained empty right next to the balcony door, showing the black stones. In the middle of the room stood a just-big-enough wood table with two comfortable-looking armchairs. Neighbouring them stretched the hearth, which still held some embers. The fairly large porch door supplied the only natural light source.
Rita looked around, amazed. She guessed that she had arrived in a library of some kind, because mostly she saw reading materials all around.
She could not muse anymore, however. Suddenly a figure appeared right before her, which made her jump back with a shriek. The unknown thing emitted incredible cold, almost freezing her heart.
Rita had no clue what she was up against, and she did not want to find out. She started for the balcony door, but she had not even reached the handle when she became utterly stiffened. She could not move, nor cry out, as if she had turned into stone. Only her mind remained free, which did little good. She hung in mid-air, feeling ice-cold, as if she had fallen into a frozen lake. Her body ached and became completely numb, which nearly made her panic. She tried to do something, but she could do nothing. She was utterly paralysed.
Adrenaline rushed through her system; fear held her tight. Her heart wanted to break through her chest as it pumped vigorously. The pain slowly ran over her mind as well as her body, which slowly drove her into desperate madness.
Rita thought that she would be a goner when she heard a commanding snap coming from somewhere behind her. As a result, the strange holding force disappeared, so she fell on the ground. She lost consciousness immediately from the shock.
9. The meeting
“So, let us continue with the dragons’ natural weapons,” said Neila, walking around the classroom. They rearranged the chairs so Cameron could fit in the middle. He still had to be very careful not to hurt anybody when he stretched out his wings or showed his claws. He really loved to be the centre of attention though, especially when the students looked at him astonished or in awe. On the other hand, when Neila talked about his weaknesses, he suddenly realised how not fun it was to be the centre of attention …
The apprentices took notes as the Master talked. Some looked very questioningly at the beginning, saying why would they need to have such lessons when everybody knew the dragons well enough. Neila only smiled at this, saying that knowing of or about something was never the same as actually getting a closer look at it. One could not know when such knowledge could be useful.
“The claws,” said the mage, while Cameron sat up and held out his forelegs, showing his grey, strong talons that were each about the length of a human palm. “They are a little arched and very hard, and also a bit retractable, what makes their grab more stable as the prey struggles. Cameron, please
demonstrate!”
One of the servants brought in a fresh carcass. The bright dragon grabbed it as if he wanted to hunt it down. He held the animal’s neck with one paw; the other struck in its belly. When he freed his claws, the prey’s neck almost broke in two. However, on the belly seemed almost nothing but the four entry holes—three in an arched row and one in front of them. Only opening up the carcass revealed the severe injuries inside.
The apprentices wrote down everything precisely. Neila waited for everybody to finish, then continued.
“The claws on the hinds are no different, only bigger and stronger.”
Cameron showed one of his hind feet, which made the students gasp in awe. They had never had the chance before to see a dragon so thoroughly. The ones who disagreed with the lesson before now made the most notes of all. They now could understand precisely how these creatures became the most powerful carnivores. Or deadly foes …
After this, nobody wanted to get on the bad side of Cameron, especially because the brights were not even the biggest of the three dragon races.
“So, that’s enough of the claws; let’s talk about the jaw. All races have around sixty-six slightly arched teeth, although this number can vary in the different dragon types, just like the teeth’s size, or the number of different teeth types. On the other hand, you all know that all three types basically look alike, so these little differences are really not that important.”
As she talked, Cameron opened his mouth, which made the students respectfully slide back with their chairs. Some more adventurous apprentices walked to the dragon to see his jaws up close. One of them even put his hand in because he wanted to feel the edges of the teeth, while he probably tried not to think: What if he closes his mouth just now? When everybody finished looking and got back to their seat, they continued noting. Many made a quick drawing too.