Amelie: Wizards of White Haven

by Frances Howitt

  ‘Not much farther,’ the queen responded “seeing” the nasty wound as viewed by the little female; it was disconcerting, to say the least, to know how bad it was.

  ‘What’s not much farther?’ Amelie asked, relieved on the one hand she’d managed to speak, but then became worried again when she got no reply. However, she’d felt grim determination in the dragon’s tone and wondered what could be driving her so desperately. A large wild cow drooped from the queen’s claws; had the cow injured the dragon? The cow’s horns were certainly very long and sharply pointed. But a dragon had the mass, strength and weaponry to outclass most prey and certainly a cow. How then had she been so badly injured; a lucky strike by the cow?

  Amelie noticed they were fast approaching steeply rising ground again that undulated with exposed jumbled rock in places and soon became a series of jagged hills. The gold queen suddenly swooped low and disappeared behind some large rocks. Amelie followed her over an edge and found the land was split by a deep steeply sided gorge. A river flowed about forty feet below them. Ahead and below her the queen veered sharply and dived into a large black hole in the cliff face.

  Amelie nervously followed the dragon into the cave mouth. The cave was shaped like a tunnel, doubtless carved by a river rushing to join the gorge below. It was dry now but did water flood the cave often? She shrugged to herself; she had more pressing things to think about just at the minute. Amelie had sufficient headroom for comfort and could walk easily so followed the gleam of the gold tail disappearing into the gloom ahead. She supposed the tunnel must be very narrow for the big dragon to squeeze through, but she’d already gone deeper. The tunnel opened up into a surprisingly spacious chamber. A few dull beams of daylight at the far end of the cave revealed there were holes in the roof, clearly why water found its way in, but which usefully lessened the cave’s darkness.

  The gold dragon stood in the middle of the cave looking back at her rather defensively. Amelie was shocked. The dragon had rushed back for a very understandable reason; by her feet was a sandy nest full of eggs. Amelie tentatively approached a little closer to get a better look. The eight oval eggs were chalky white and rather wrinkly and leathery. Each egg stood upright in a separate sandy nest from its neighbour and was about three feet long. She didn’t dare come any closer though, the dragon was watching her anxiously and provoking a mother dragon would be stupid.

  ‘What do you need?’ Amelie asked striving for a calm tone and sitting down where she was to further allay the dragon’s protectiveness.

  ‘My mate is on his way, but this is a female time and my strength is leaving me,’ the queen said slowly. ‘I must hatch them. I have food for them,’ she added glancing at the so troublesome cow.

  Amelie nodded, not entirely sure what the dragon was asking for. Certainly while the queen was alone she would need help. Juggling the needs of eight babies at once, would try any parent never mind one so badly injured and thus weak. The dragon turned her attention back to the eggs, obviously needing no other acknowledgement. She took a backward step and flopped to the ground again. She pointed her nose at the eggs and released a stream of flame, bathing them all thoroughly in fire. Amelie was horrified but could do nothing to prevent this and anyway, she was certain the dragon would not be doing anything to kill her offspring. Amelie stared at the eggs; they’d gone black and appeared charred. Then she noticed movement; the black soot was flaking and falling away as the wrinkled eggs swelled slightly and turned smooth. Underneath, a glossy shell in jewel bright colours became revealed. The gold dragon limped a few paces further back from the nest and flopped, but Amelie decided she was satisfied. Amelie couldn’t resist going closer; the eggs were beautifully multihued and so different in appearance now. One hadn’t changed colour and she moved round the nest to look more closely. She was relieved that the egg had indeed transformed like the others, but instead of being brightly coloured, it was a glossy black shell. The black egg suddenly moved and Amelie jumped back. She heard an amused snort; the dragon was watching her. More movement caught her attention and she realised three eggs were now rocking.

  ‘Feed them when they hatch,’ the queen advised watching both the rocking eggs and the little blue female. She supposed this stranger was hardly more than an adolescent, since she was so small. Young and inexperienced she undoubtedly was, but she was female and all that the queen had by way of aid. She watched in approval as the little blue tore the haunch off the cow and carried it closer to a blue egg most advanced in its hatching.

  Amelie assessed the other eggs; all were rocking now. Two other eggs already had cracks showing in their shells and she could hear lots of determined tapping all around her. Were they all going to hatch at once? A large flake abruptly fell away from the top of the blue egg in front of her. A delicate blue head poked out the top of the shell. Amelie stared in awed fascination and felt a lump grow in her throat in wonder. The dragonet met her gaze and seemed reassured. The dragonet gave a kind of shrug and the shell split in two. The dragonet fell out on her chin with a small cry. Amelie immediately reached out and pulled the sharp egg fragments aside and out from under the wobbly baby’s feet. A pair of thin leathery wings drooped to the ground and helped prop and balance the little figure. Amelie watched entranced as the dragonet found her feet and looked back at her. The determination on the little face and that she kept looking up at Amelie making sure she was not alone, captured her heart. The dragonet stood swaying on her wobbly legs, looked up and abruptly squeaked. Amelie decided she looked just like a baby bird now, her mouth open hopefully. It might be a baby but she could see her mouth was full of small but undoubtedly sharp teeth. Amelie quickly bit off a small piece of meat, offered it and it was snapped up instantly. The baby gave a big gulp swallowing it whole then opened her mouth for more. If they weren’t going to chew, Amelie knew she’d have to be careful that the chunks of meat weren’t too large. The thought of inadvertently killing one by choking it was scary. A click and pop to one side alerted her that a little green dragonet was hatching. Amelie picked up the meat and moved closer to the green dragonet. She again got rid of the shells, but this time made a point of flicking them further away, having had to shift the blue shell again to get at the green dragonet. She now had to alternate between feeding the little blue, which had followed her, and the still weaker green male. A gold dragonet suddenly appeared behind the green; obviously she’d hatched unnoticed and walked over. Amelie had to nudge the blue aside to make room for the gold, making sure she got her share. Amelie paused for a moment to scan the eggs and sure enough, another damp wobbly dragonet was trying to find his feet. Amelie noticed his balance was greatly impeded by the curved shell fragments he still stood on and which rocked under his feet. Amelie winced in sympathy as he fell flat on his chin yet again with a wail of protest. She tiptoed over, trying to avoid knocking or standing on any of the other eggs rocking in her path. She scooped the bright copper coloured dragonet up, flicked the shell against the wall as she had the others before setting him back down. She glanced round at the other hatchlings to find they’d all followed her.

  The cave suddenly darkened and she glanced up. A second dragon had paused at the entrance to the den. He might be of a similar height to the gold dragon but he was stockier, making the gold seem of delicate build in comparison. The dark green dragon strode in, his eyes blazing. He rushed over to his mate and they touched noses. There was no mistaking his angst. He kept glancing over at Amelie and she cowered where she sat amongst the dragonets. She didn’t dare move for fear of provoking his wrath her way. A new hatchling split her shell and fell out with a loud squawk. It was the black shelled egg and the hatchling too was black which was why she hadn’t been so noticeable struggling out of her shell in the dark shadows of the cave. Amelie picked up the almost gone haunch of beef and hurried over to the baby. The queen’s instructions had been simple and clear; feeding them was a priority. Watching their strength grow with each mouthful, Amelie understood they needed food as quick
ly as possible.

  ‘Why are you letting this female bond with your children?’

  Amelie heard the disapproving words in her head clearly and glanced up at the big green male and realised he’d been watching her.

  ‘You know I am dying Stripe,’ the queen said, her voice a mere thread of mental sound. ‘They need a mother,’ she added simply.

  The queen’s words shocked Amelie afresh; she was dying? No wonder the male seemed so agitated and upset. She was aware the two dragons continued to talk, but it was less audible somehow. She guessed they were talking privately. If the queen was dying, and Amelie did indeed notice the once bright gold scales had gone dull, it was understandably a private matter. Strangely, at least now knowing the father’s name, made him seem less terrifying. The dark green on his back faded to a paler sage green with darker stripes on his belly and legs. He’d gotten his name from those markings she guessed. Feeding another new and demanding little dragonet, this one brown, Amelie noticed the other hatchlings had again followed her to their new sibling’s side. It was clear they viewed her as their mother. How could she take on the role of being a mother to baby dragons? What did she know about their needs? Having said that, they were so young and helpless at the moment, there was no way she could abandon them. It was clear their mother wasn’t expecting their father to know how to care for them. Maybe once they were a little stronger and more self sufficient he would be fine to take over. Certainly she doubted they would be remotely like taking on a human infant that was truly helpless for most of its first decade. These dragonets were small but fully formed and were already eating adult food. She wondered how long it would be before they could fly. She had no idea how quickly they grew either. She went to pick up the haunch only to realise it was now a bare bone. She looked over to where the main carcass sat right beside the pair of dragons. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to venture any closer to them, even for the sake of the hungry dragonets. She also knew moving an entire cow by herself would be such a struggle that they’d notice her strength wasn’t what a dragon’s should be. Abruptly the big male got up, snatched up the whole cow and came close enough to deposit it beside her.

  Amelie met his gaze nervously; he was huge and his gaze difficult to read. But he’d brought the beef to her then withdrawn again. He’d tacitly given her permission to continue feeding and the dragonets were squeaking demandingly. She nodded to him and gratefully concentrated on the hatchlings again, making sure all the newest ones were fed first. Egg number seven started cracking as did the last egg number eight. Both were green eggs, one dark like their father and the other a soft sage green. Amelie wondered which would hatch first or whether they would be simultaneous.

  She glanced across at the dragonets’ parents; both were watching, although the queen now had her chin resting on her paws. She looked utterly spent. The male sat pressed against her flank, his emerald gaze intense. Amelie hastily turned her attention back to the hatchlings and also the last two rocking eggs; anything other than the disconcerting adults. She was kept very busy feeding the last two hatchlings as well as their six partly sated siblings. Amelie didn’t have a chance to cast more than the odd glance towards the adult dragons, but suddenly there came a dreadful howl. The queen was dead. The male was beside himself with grief. She guessed the queen had held on until the last of her babies had successfully hatched. Amelie felt movement and realised several of the dragonets were crawling under her partially unfurled wings. They were scared and she couldn’t blame them. She spread her wings a little more and gathered all the little ones protectively beneath them.

  The pale green dragonet poked her head out from under Amelie’s wing and cheeped. Stripe paused in his pacing and Amelie made an effort to meet his glare. It was not the baby’s fault she had intruded on his grief. She didn’t understand. She was only minutes old and very hungry. Amelie hastily bit off some meat and fed the little one, and the other green one who’d just poked his head out eagerly. Amelie looked across at Stripe, aware he wasn’t moving now, and found he was standing still watching her continue to feed the little ones. She wondered what was going through his mind. But either way, the buffer of the queen was no longer between them and she was anxious.

  Slowly the dragonets became sated and one by one snuggled closely around her and fell asleep. She watched them fidgeting in their sleep, paws pushing at their siblings, tails twitching. Lumps of meat were clearly defined against the tight skin of their little rounded bellies. They were adorable and she felt a great sense of achievement and maternal contentment. The queen had asked her to care for the dragonets as they hatched and she had successfully done so, yet she was in a quandary now as to what was truly expected ongoing. Stripe had made no attempt to even meet his children, although he did watch over them. The queen was dead; Stripe was their real parent and she didn’t know how he felt about her being here. They really needed to be raised by a dragon. There would be many things a dragon would normally teach their offspring that she couldn’t begin to guess at.

  ‘You are good with them,’ Stripe observed at length, noticing her nervousness. ‘I will not harm you little queen. You have aided us in our time of need; I will not forget.’

  ‘What now?’ Amelie asked, bracing herself.

  ‘Now you are my children’s mother,’ he told her, suspecting she needed that reassurance from him, even though she’d bonded with them. He could tell she was different in some fundamental way, and might even be a were-dragon. But the fact remained; he needed a female’s aid and she had all the right instincts. She also gave every indication of genuinely caring. She was the closest thing the dragonets now had for a mother. ‘How are you known?’

  ‘Amelie and you are Stripe?’

  He nodded affirmation and noticed she glanced yet again at Elaye. He reluctantly knew the time had come. He rose and crossed to Amelie. He met her gaze for a moment then turned sideways before her to shield her and the sleeping hatchlings. He regarded Elaye for a long sorrowful moment, knowing her spirit was no longer there. He released a steady stream of his hottest flame at her body.

  ‘You could have done that outside,’ a female voice snapped irritably and he glanced round at the little blue in surprise. She projected her concern for the hatchling’s health having to breathe in the thick smoke suddenly filling the cave. But he also felt her dismay at what he had to do; she understood his grief. He noticed she was hastily scooping up the sleepy dragonets a couple at a time and moving them to the back wall, as far away from the heat and smoke now filling the cave as possible. She coughed frequently, but so too were the new hatchlings. Ruefully he knew she was right; not that he’d admit it to her. He hadn’t been thinking ahead. It wasn’t as though the new hatchlings could leave the cave to avoid the fumes; it would be weeks before they could fly. He grabbed an un-burnt foreleg and dragged the body out of the den and down the narrow entry tunnel. Clinging to a narrow ledge on the cliff face just outside the cave entrance, he tugged and tugged until the queen’s body fell out to the ravine below. In the clean brisk breeze and shielded from notice by the ravine walls, he continued the grisly task of cremation. It was fitting that a queen be honoured by the fire of her family, rather than be left to the indignity of scavengers. As he stepped back to avoid an ash filled eddy swirling towards him, a splash of colour caught his eye. The little blue queen stood at the entrance to the cave above watching. Her richly coloured scales were lustrous in the sunlight, but she also looked painfully skinny. Finally satisfied with his grim work he flew off to find prey. His responsibility was now to his new queen’s health and of course his family. Defending and keeping them well fed was his role, and time consuming it was likely to be too, judging by how fast they’d eaten a large cow.

  Reflecting as he flew, he ruefully knew he’d failed Elaye. He should not have left her when she was so close to laying the clutch, even though she had demanded privacy. He should have been close by so she would have had no need to hunt directly after the rigors of laying a f
ull clutch. It didn’t absolve him of responsibility that she’d kept the immediacy of being ready to lay a secret; he should have been keeping watch over her. He should have been close enough to immediately cater for her when she surfaced from the den. There was always plenty of competition among the males to court and win a mate, but if a male didn’t then care for his mate and offspring diligently, he was likely to lose her to another and suffer ridicule. He’d known she’d been dissatisfied with him and it hurt. A male could show his interest, but it was always the female who made the decision on whether to accept his suit. He wondered where Amelie had come from; dragons were not numerous anymore. Humans had become more than a nuisance; they were spreading fast and destroying the wild places. They also attacked dragons on the wing, killing if they could. She was only half his height and since dragons continued to grow all their lives, it was another indicator that she was probably a were-dragon. He’d never met one before but he understood them to be a variant of human that could take dragon form. A dragon her size would be little more than a child, when she scented as a fertile adult. She might have maternal instincts, but these were not her own young; she would have less motivation to stay. Rearing them would take considerable time and commitment. He could only hope that bonding with them had provided the necessary link. He certainly planned to leave her no reason to reject him for lack of care. Elaye had given the children to her. She could take them from him and seek a new mate. If she did, he would cease to have a family and would have to watch someone else rear them. He had no idea whether a were-dragon reared their young differently, but for dragons, a dragonet’s first two years were spent exclusively with their mother. A dragonet’s father only took over the primary role after they had left the nest. The queen could then concentrate on producing a new clutch. Often they remained close by their mother until they were ready for independence. But if she chose a new father for the next clutch, then the youngsters would be forced to leave the safety of the den, perhaps before they were truly capable of fending for themselves. Keeping the same mate long term gave youngsters a secure defended home and regular meals, meaning more were likely to survive into adulthood. Stripe had been lonely. He’d dearly wanted the responsibility and connection of having a family of his own. Once his children left the nest it would be up to him to teach them to hunt and show them the best hunting grounds. He would teach them of hazards on the territory and guide them in learning their place within the hierarchy. He’d told Elaye this and guessed it was why she’d chosen him even though they didn’t truly get on well. But now Elaye was dead and his future uncertain once again.