by Jensine Odom
“That’s a baby, isn’t it?” the man asks, curious once more, and steps away from the shelter of Baldure and Caedryn.
“A youngling,” I half agree, still petting Petrie.
Finally noticing the dragons, or maybe noticing someone on his level, Shadow runs straight for Petrie and me. Not scared in the slightest, he sniffs the young dragon’s nose, jumping back with surprise as Petrie puffs warm air into his face.
Shadow barks, wagging his tail, and bounces around playfully. Petrie mimics his bark, making Shadow zoom around in a tight circle. Almost like playing tag, he bops Petrie’s head and runs off a few yards, wagging his tail furiously.
Petrie gives me a pleading look, nearly wagging her own large tail, and with a laugh, I nod. The little dragon squeals happily and lunges after her new canine friend, the two of them running right for the lake.
“How did you manage to tame three dragons?” the man asks as I make my way back to my feet.
“Umm. That’s complicated,” I reply.
“She killed their mother,” Baldure answers simply.
“I had help,” I add at the man’s astonished look. “Her mate turned on her, leaving her mortally injured. I couldn’t leave her to suffer.”
“My sister and I dispatched her mate,” Baldure also adds.
“Is that how you ended up separated?” the man asks Baldure.
“No. It was a different group of dragons that drove us apart.”
“Could those be the dragons that attacked the settlement, too?”
“No,” Caedryn answers this time.
“How can you be so sure?” the man questions.
“That’s complicated,” I answer.
“I’m beginning to see that.” The man shakes his head in exasperation.
“Let’s get back to your first question. That one I can answer. Yes, we have some food we would be willing to trade. What do you have to offer for it?”
The man watches apprehensively as I swing my bladed bow off my shoulder, then relaxes as it’s quickly followed by my backpack. Pots and canteens clank as he sets his own bag down, and the both of us kneel, digging up what we have for trade.
“I’ve got a pack of teriyaki jerky and some granola,” I offer, laying out the vacuum sealed bag of meat and a few unopened packs of trail mix granola. “You know what? I’ll throw in another bag of jerky, for Shadow.” I smile, watching the hound play with the small dragon in the shallow waters of the lake, and toss a smaller bag of jerky bites in the offering pile.
“Wow! Thanks! That’s way more than I expected!” The man’s eyes crinkle with joy as he looks between the food and me, and begins to lay out the things he has for trade. “I’ve got some canteens I don’t really need. Umm. Some knives. Let’s see.” The man frowns, digging deeper into his tactical bag, pulling out clothes and other assorted necessities.
“It’s alright.” I stop his rummaging. “Just take the food. I don’t need anything in return,” I assure him, leaving his portion out and repacking my bag.
“I can’t just take this,” he tells me, looking over his things once more, and grabs a pair of Karambits. “Take these. I’ll never use them, but you look like a bunch who can use more weapons. They’re special, made from—”
“Meteorite,” I finish for him, recognizing the bladesmith’s mark on the curved blades and the odd sheen of the otherworldly metal as I accept the knives.
“Yeah. How’d you know?” the man asks.
In answer I simply lift one of the blades on my bow, then toss two more jerky packs in his pile. “Now we’re even.”
The man’s surprised but doesn’t argue, and repacks his bag. “Do any of y’all smoke?” he asks as he stands, pulling something out of his pocket.
“Smoke what?” Tristin asks curiously.
“That answers it, then.” He smiles broadly, revealing a rather fat joint, the earthy, skunky smell of cannabis wafting on the afternoon breeze.
The man lights it up, taking a good-sized drag, and holds it out for Tristin. My brother squeals with joy and takes the blunt, taking a bigger hit than he should have, and offers it to me while trying desperately not to cough.
“No, thanks.” I shake my head, laughing, and begin to thread the sheaths for my new weapons onto my belt. “If I smoke now, nothing will get done.”
“Suit yourself,” Tristin wheezes, letting out a thick cloud of smoke, and hands the joint back to the man.
Bored with the lull in events, Irontooth wanders off, laying beside the lake to keep an eye on his baby sister, but Stormwing moves closer to Tristin and the man, sniffing curiously as Tristin takes another toke. With a devious glint in his eye, he quickly turns and blows the smoke right in her nostril.
Stormwing sneezes, trumpeting like an elephant, and blasts the unsuspecting man with hot air. Tristin nearly falls laughing so hard while she snorts a few more times to clear her nose, then does fall when she turns her attention to the man as he takes a puff.
Looking both unsure and intrigued, he blows the smoke gently her way. Stormwing inhales deeply, like she watched the two men do, and goes into another sneezing fit, looking expectantly at Tristin as he accepts the blunt again.
“You’ve got a stoner dragon,” Tristin roars, laughing as he blows more smoke into Stormwing’s nose.
“It seems that way!” I laugh as Tristin and the man finish off their joint, taking turns blowing the smoke at the young dragon.
When they’re finally done, the man drops the end, stomping out the small ember, and Stormwing sniffs the ground curiously, nearly crushing both him and my brother as she rolls vigorously where the joint was left. Satiated, and just a little high, Stormwing lolls onto her side with a happy sigh, her head just beside the man.
I don’t need to read his thoughts or emotions to know he’s curious about how it might feel to run his hand across her lavender scales.
“Go ahead, pet her.” I surprise the man. “I’m pretty sure she won’t mind.”
Without a second thought, the man reaches out, petting down Stormwing’s neck. “She’s so warm,” the man says, surprised, and moves closer, playing his hand over the leathery membrane of one wing, draped lazily across the ground. “You know, if anyone had told me I wouldn’t only meet the Dragon Scavenger, but her fabled tamed dragons also, I would have thought them crazy.” The man steps away now, retrieving his pack and glancing at the three young dragons. “But look at me; brushing against greatness.”
“Bro, you have no idea,” Tristin comments cryptically.
“What? That most of you are dragon shifters?” The man asks innocently enough.
Before I can school my face, my eyes go wide, and my mouth hangs open.
“How do you know this?” Baldure growls, moving in with Caedryn and the other Knights to protect me once more.
“I’ve heard some rumors, and put a few things together,” the man replies easily with a shrug, turning from Stormwing and retrieving his walking stick. “Judging from the way y’all protect her, there’s more danger about you than I care for, so I think I’ll be moving on. Thanks again for the food.” The man dips his head. “Shadow, let’s git!”
The dog stops splashing in the water with Petrie and obediently comes to his person, shaking the droplets from his coat just as he reaches the man’s side. With a laugh and one final nod, the pair walk off, heading down the path we just came up on, passing Alarr along the way.
The man watches my draquus with wide eyes, then shakes his head and continues on his way, disappearing from sight a moment later. Only then do I realize we never got his name, only that his dog’s called Shadow.
That proceeded better than I had anticipated, Alarr comments, watching Petrie suspiciously as he passes by me.
Don’t worry, she has exhausted herself playing with Shadow. I laugh, watching the little dragon lay down flat, her side heaving with every breath.
I hope you are right. Alarr doesn’t sound convinced, though, and walks quietly past Petrie as if she
were a sleeping bear. I do not know why she is infatuated with me, but it is maddening.
For some reason little girls love horses, I explain, laughing when Petrie simply changes positions and scares Alarr, making the big draquus jump like a cat.
She is not a little girl, and I am not a simple horse. Alarr snorts in annoyance and swishes his tail, cracking the tufted tip like a bull whip.
You’re pretty much the dragon equivalent, I counter humorously, adding to his irritation. Go on, get yourself some dinner and take a break. If I need you, I’ll call.
Without another word, Alarr walks off, disappearing into the trees once more.
“Well then,” I say, turning to everyone else, still standing around me. “Shall we set up camp?”
Zebulon and Tristin move out, joined by Turhion and Kerric, all of them heading to where Mary has already set up her tent on the far side of the lake. Sitrian walks over to Petrie, sitting on the log beside her, and Stormwing just rolls onto her back, her head moving erratically as she tries to track the insects buzzing above her.
Not even bothering to close my bag back up, I toss it over one shoulder, carrying my bow lazily in my other hand; Caedryn and Baldure flanking me as I walk for our campsite.
Judging from the absence of Mary, and the zipped-up flap on her tent, she’s barricaded herself inside. I wonder if she heard about the Santa Fe settlement? I was hoping to leave her there, and I think she might have had the same plan, but now it’s gone.
“I need to see the Santa Fe settlement for myself,” I announce.
“Do you think the man was lying about it?” Baldure asks.
“His appearance at our destination was suspicious,” Caedryn mentions.
“His appearance wasn’t suspicious,” I assure Caedryn. “He’s a Wanderer; someone who stays on the move. And he wasn’t lying, either.”
“How can you be sure?”
“You couldn’t feel his emotions?” I ask in return, and Caedryn’s confusion answers me. “So, you can feel my emotions, but not if they stem from someone else,” I comment, and Caedryn can’t seem to follow my train of thought. “I’m an Esper, remember? That man’s emotions hit me like a ton of bricks, but apparently didn’t bleed into our bond.”
Caedryn nods, understanding now. “Why do you need to see the settlement?”
“I need to know when it happened, and I just need to see it.”
“I can fly there now. No need for you to be in danger,” Baldure offers, and Caedryn nods.
“I’m going with you.” I drop my things next to Mary’s tent, only slightly worried I might have disturbed her, and follow Baldure.
Baldure gives Caedryn a pleading look, but Caedryn just shrugs, stepping up beside him.
“You’ll never change her mind,” he says, smirking sideways at me. “I will come as well
“So be it,” Baldure accepts his defeat and shifts, his deep green scales shimmering.
Caedryn shifts next, dwarfed by Baldure’s massive size, the silver of his scales reflecting the golden evening light.
“Who’s carrying me?” I ask, looking between the two impressive dragons.
In answer, Caedryn sits back on his haunches, holding his arms out. “It will be good practice for when we leave in the morning.”
I shrug and leap into his embrace, surprised to find it less abrasive than I thought.
Baldure takes off first, followed by Caedryn and me, and it’s only when we reach the top of the mountain that I realize we didn’t tell anyone where we’re going. Oh well, too late now.
I will let them know where you are leaving to, Alarr assures me, sounding a little less annoyed.
Thank you!
Be safe, Xerxia.
Always.
✽✽✽
Because I’m still human, we can’t fly that high, but it only takes us a little less than an hour to reach the still smoldering remains of the Santa Fe settlement.
Smoke fills the air as we land just on the edge of the settlement, and it takes me a moment to get brave enough to walk forward. I know I’ve seen carnage like this before, but it was never my fault. Indirectly, I know, but if Drustana hadn’t have been searching for me, these charred skeletons might not be here, staring blankly into my soul.
Baldure bends down to touch one of the charcoaled skulls that lay outside what used to be the tavern, but I stop him, bending down to touch it myself. Where I used to only get slight impressions, my vision is now flooded with images.
This was a man, about fifty. He was here with his teenage daughter. They were just staying the night. A group of dragon hunters came in, a larger group than they had seen before. I recognize Alivia, but not the others. They split up, making their way around the room, questioning everyone.
A young man with charcoal hair and brilliant red eyes stops at this man’s table. I can’t hear what’s being said, but it doesn’t look like the young man’s very happy. He actually looks a little sad.
After the room is completely combed, the dragon hunters leave, a few of them stealing the drinks or food of some of the patrons. The man gets up to follow the group, pointing for his daughter to go upstairs. She argues, but eventually gives in.
Once he’s sure she has obeyed, he walks outside, looking up and down the street for the strangers, but they’re nowhere to be seen. Then the shop in front of him spontaneously combusts. From there it’s like dominoes as dragons spiral around the settlement. The man turns to the inn, intent on retrieving his daughter and fleeing, but just as his hand grabs the doorknob, it erupts into flames, the fire engulfing him as well.
With a gasp, I let go of the skull, falling to my knees in the warm dust and ashes. Unfortunately, those ashes are more than just burnt down buildings, and images flash unbidden behind my eyes as the dead rush to be heard. Tears flow as death after death assaults me, some taking my breath away, others filling me with pain, sorrow, and terror.
This is one of the darker abilities I’ve dealt with all my adult life, but with every death I experience, a soul is released, free to move on, so I endure. I’ve never dealt with this magnitude, but I can handle it as long as I don’t get lost down the rabbit hole. Which is getting harder and harder to do as my energy drains.
One particular death draws me in, and I struggle to discern reality from relived memory. A woman wanders the main street, browsing the supplies for purchase while her young son, no older than eight, wanders around her. She reaches out for a medium length blade on the weapons table she has stopped at. The metal glints in the sun as I turn it over, balancing it on my finger easily.
An explosion rocks the ground. Screams fill the air along with thick, black smoke. I can’t see William. Fire rains down, searing my flesh, but I can’t stop. I have to find my child!
Step after agonizing step, I search. Where is he?! He was just right here!
“Momma?” my son cries out, scared.
He’s close! “Willy?!” I cry out, the back of my throat burning. “Willy, I’m here!”
“Momma, I can’t see you,” he screams again, tears in his voice.
“It will be all right, sweet child,” a woman’s deep voice rasps, more humorous than reassuring.
I don’t know why, but it makes my blood run cold. Despite my quickly stiffening limbs and the excruciating pain, I move in the direction I heard them.
The smoke suddenly clears, as if by magic, and standing before me is my son. Beside him must be the woman I heard speak, her dark purple dress billowing around her slight form.
“Momma?” Willy looks confused by my appearance.
“Yes, Willy,” I speak, wanting to cry, but tears won’t come. “Come here!”
“Your mother is dying, boy,” the woman states coldly, hand clamping on his shoulder, stopping my son from coming to me. “There’s nothing that can be done to save her.” Her gaze turns to me, dark eyes glinting with a supernatural light.
Willy sniffles, tears streaming down his ash stained cheeks.
“D
o not fear, child. You will join her soon.”
My scream turns to a gurgle as flames engulf me, unbearable heat turning to agonizing pain, then nothing. My heart slows and I grow cold.
Suddenly I’m wrapped in warmth, and the pull of death lessens.
Share this burden, Xerxia, Baldure says, barely a whisper in my mind, and I slowly come back to myself.
How? I ask, trying to clear the fog in my head.
The image of Baldure’s soul pushes away all the ghosts, and it’s almost like he takes my hand and leads me to his internal flame.
Step inside, He coaxes, and I baulk.
I can’t! That’s how—My mind fades for an instant, my energy dangerously low. I’m not Drustana, I say weakly, losing more stamina as the spirits press in impatiently.
No, you are not her, Baldure agrees softly. Where she takes, you refuse, even when it’s given. Now, join me so we may finish what you started and leave this place.
Are you sure? I ask, turning to the large figure beside me, surprised to find Baldure actually standing there. I know what can happen when I step into your soul.
Baldure steps closer, taking me by the shoulders. I trust you. He smiles kindly and pushes me towards the flame.
I raise a hand, passing it through the fire a few times, and with a deep breath, step inside. The deep emerald flame wraps around me like a comfortable blanket, and my energy is restored as Baldure’s mind and mine become one.
The souls waiting to cross over press in, and I open my mind to them, once again able to let them pass without getting caught up in their death.
Many of these people didn’t know they were dead, and the simple seeing of their demise lets them move on. Others know they’re dead, but want to know where their loved ones are, or to confess something they think will keep them from passing on. The rest need coaxing, or in the case of this last soul, to give me information.
It’s the first man’s daughter. She somehow managed to escape the destruction of the inn and hid as the dragons destroyed the settlement. Once she thought they moved on, she went back to search for any signs of her dad, not knowing he was burned to ash in the first attack, or that there’s nothing left of anyone to tell who they were.