Dragon Fool

by Delaney Walnofer

"Where is she?" Damara hissed, peering around.

  Rib stuck his head out of the underbrush to look along the wall. Oriole wasn't there. From the corner of his eye, he saw movement at the top and quickly pulled his head back, fearful the guard might spot him.

  "What should we do?" Rib asked. "Gavin's still waiting for me outside."

  Damara's lip curled in displeasure. Early that morning, they'd all thanked Griffith and bade him farewell, leaving through the gates. Now it was nightfall and Rib had snuck with Damara over the wall, but Oriole wasn't waiting for them there as they'd agreed upon.

  "We're changing the plan," Damara decided. "You have to come with me to the pond. We'll find Oriole and steal the book at the same time."

  "Does that mean I get to turn myself invisible too?" Rib's heart skipped in excitement.

  "Maybe. Let's go."

  "But wait," Rib objected. "We have to tell Gavin."

  "There's no time for that. You'll only risk being seen. Come on."

  Rib followed reluctantly, keeping his eyes on the back of her dress. It bothered him that she felt the need to keep her knife out of its sheath and at the ready in her hand, but he didn't say anything. Besides, he could see that it was helping her cut her way through the woods. When a pine-needled branch with curved, black talon thorns caught on her, she silently cut herself free and moved on.

  Creatures of the night hid among the trees, blinking at them with large eyes. A few glowing bat-moths fluttered past. Damara held out a hand behind her to stop Rib when a blue wolf appeared on their path, gazing at the young woman and her knife before padding away.

  At last, they reached the Pool of Mirrors and found that Oriole was not here, either.

  Damara narrowed her eyes, looking to Rib.

  "Did she betray us?" she thought aloud. "What if she told Griffith what we were planning?"

  "Oriole?" Rib shook his head confidently. "No, she wouldn't. Griffith probably wanted her for something so she couldn't sneak away. She might be looking for us now."

  Damara ground her teeth.

  "Even so," she said, sheathing her knife, "I'm getting into the pond. Keep a look out."

  Without another word, she stepped down into the shimmering water, clothes and all. Turning, she laid herself back until her body was completely submerged.

  Rib forgot to keep watch as he stared at her. Her dress, hair, and skin were the first to go, revealing her muscles and bones below.

  She looks like she's been flayed! Rib thought, horrified.

  She had her eyes closed, but that soon didn't appear to be the case as the liquid turned her eyelids invisible. Steadily, the magical water seeped deeper into the young woman's body, seemingly eating away at her muscle, down to the bone. Rib could see the organs encased in her ribcage until they, too, disappeared.

  Now she was only a skeleton, but fading fast. The smaller bones of her body vanished, then bigger ones, and finally her skull.

  She's gone! Rib gawked at the place where she'd just been.

  Then, the sound of her resurfacing startled him back. Damara's body was still invisible, but Rib could see the liquid running down her, dripping from her soaked hair. She looked like a woman made of water. Below, where the rest of her body remained waist deep, Rib saw the water encasing her, absent where her dress flowed, where her legs curved. He peered down to look through to where she stood, amazed to see the pebbles at the bottom of the pond as though nothing were covering them at all.

  "Damara?" he uttered. "Are- are you alright?"

  The woman's wet face turned towards him. Drops of water dripped from her eyelashes as she clearly blinked.

  She was quiet for a moment, then, "I can't see."

  "You can't see?" Rib echoed, taken aback. "What do you mean you can't see?"

  "I mean," she repeated irritably, "I can't see."

  "N-not at all?" Rib stammered.

  "No. My sight left me when the liquid soaked through my eyes."

  "What?!" Rib cried, though she hissed at him to be quiet. "What are we going to do?"

  "We're not going to draw attention to ourselves by shouting out like fools," she growled. "Now tell me, what do I look like?"

  "All?all I can see is the water on you," Rib answered. "It's like you're a fluid?glass figure or something."

  Damara's watery expression crinkled, vexed. "Then I'll have to dry off before we go for the book." Liquid flowed around her invisible form as she waded to the shore. The ground pressed in beneath her, forming two perfect footprints. Rib thought her fluid dress intriguing, the way it creased and trickled from the hem.

  "You look like you're wearing a waterfall," he commented.

  "Isn't that nice," came the young woman's biting response. "Listen, you have to go find Oriole while I'm drying off. Bring her back here so she can turn invisible once I've stolen the book. Then you'll have to lead her out of here with me on your back."

  "So?I don't get to turn invisible?" Rib asked.

  "No," Damara retorted. "We can't have the three of us stumbling around blind."

  "How are you going to steal the book if you can't see?"

  "I'll figure it out. But the book won't be any good to us if we don't get Oriole, so go."

  "Alright, alright." Rib took one last glance at the glassy woman before sneaking through the woods towards the fairy ring meadow, where he hoped to find Oriole.

  Where could she be if not there? Rib worried. Maybe now she's waiting at the wall for us like we planned.

  I'll have to check after this.

  Rib could hear the waterfall in the distance growing louder as he approached. There was a time when a whole pack of blue wolves came padding alongside him, tongues lolling and ears alert as though out on a hunt with him. But then they left, soon as he reached the tree line.

  Hiding amongst bushes with tiny melon-like berries, Rib peered across the mushroom meadow in search of Oriole. The path tread by the eight-legged cow was still visible in the moonlight, as well as each fairy ring it had trampled over.

  There's Oriole! Rib perked up as he saw the feathery dragon lying on the stone level of Griffith's workplace. No one else appeared to be there, not Griffith, not a single fae servant.

  I should still be careful, he thought and slunk along the edge of the forest to the stream. Stealthily, he stepped into the water and lowered himself until he was nearly submerged in whole. Then, working against the flow, he walked up the stream and into the pool.

  Fox ear lilies caught on his folded wings and brushed into his eyes, which he kept just above the water as he plod silently towards the cliff. In the pool, he passed the meadow, reaching the side of the natural rock platform where Oriole lay above him. Rib tilted his head back to see the top. The female's plumed tail hung over the brink, looking damp from all the mist of the crashing waterfall behind him.

  This is good, he thought. Hooking his foreclaws on the broken stone columns rising up from the water, Rib lifted himself out of the water and scaled the rock face, until he found himself hanging onto the edge and peering over at Oriole. She was curled towards him, seemingly asleep.

  "Hey," he said in hushed tones. "Oriole."

  The female's eyelids lifted and she blinked, taking a moment to focus on him looking over the brink at her.

  "Oh, Rib!" she whispered. "I meant to come find you, but I guess I fell asleep." The dragon gave him a sheepish smile.

  She fell asleep?! Doesn't she know how urgent this is?

  "Where's Griffith?" Rib asked as he got a better grip on the vertical rocks.

  "He should be in his tree-bed by now," Oriole answered. Coming closer, she grinned. "You won't believe this?The potion book is up here with me!"

  "Really?" Rib raised himself up a little higher to see the book laid out on the thick column beside the cauldron.

  Oriole nodded. "His Majesty asked me to guard it since he didn't have Spryte to store it away for him. He's still trying to find a new head fae servant he can trust."

  "That's perfec
t!" Rib exclaimed quietly. "I'll get Damara so she can grab the book, and then you can bathe in the pond and we'll all sneak out together, completely unnoticed."

  Oriole swallowed, now looking nervous.

  "I'll be right back, alright?" said Rib. "Make sure no one is around."

  Slow and steady, he climbed back down into the water and made his way across the pool, down the stream. He hastened back to where Damara would be waiting for him, dripping wet.

  Could she be dry by now? he wondered. Maybe it doesn't matter.

  "Damara?" he whispered loud when he reached the Pool of Mirrors. He couldn't see her on the banks where he'd left her.

  "I'm here."

  Rib looked in the direction of her voice, surprised to see how little water was left on her. With her hair and dress far from dripping and only a slight dampness on her face, she looked more like a ghost now than anything else. Indeed, his eyes had passed over her at first glance.

  "Can you still not see?" he asked anxiously.

  "Yeah," she answered. "Tell me Oriole's with you."

  Rib grinned. "No, but listen to this?"

  Damara stood quiet as he told her what Oriole had said.

  "I don't like it," she said when he had finished. "It's too simple. It must be a trap."

  "Damara," Rib groaned. "It's not a trap. It all makes sense. We should go now while it's still this way."

  "Fine." The grass flattened beneath the hardly-visible woman's feet as she sightlessly came towards him, hands outstretched. Rib crouched when she touched him, letting her climb into the saddle. "But I still don't like it. Be alert."

  "Yes, I know," Rib sighed and began walking to their destination. It was strange how he could feel the weight of such a ghost-like woman on his back.

  Soon we'll be on our way back to Wystil.

  When Rib returned to the meadow, he did not enter the water again in fear of washing away Damara's invisibility. Instead, he slunk along the bank and up the stone steps to meet Oriole. The female was awake this time and she stood, smiling at Rib.

  "The book is right here," Rib told Damara just above the sound of the waterfall. He felt the young woman slip off him and guided her to the stone column with his tail.

  Then, a sudden powder cloud was thrown up before them and Rib staggered back, alarmed. Oriole gave a yelp behind him and he looked back at her. She was also surrounded by the fine dust, her face relaxing as she breathed in.

  "Hey!" Damara shouted and Rib stared in her direction, unable to keep himself from inhaling the powder. "Unhand me! Rib, fight him!"

  Rib blinked slowly. He heard her voice, but saw neither her nor anyone else. With another breath of dust, his thoughts seemingly died out, leaving him a simple onlooker as the sound of invisible scuffling feet moved past him.

  "You thought you could steal from me?" Rib heard Griffith boom from the same direction and listened, heedful of his every word. "I have ears in the forest. I see magic. I know all!"

  "Rib!" the woman by the name Damara shouted. "Help me!"

  "Foolish, ungrateful witch!" Griffith roared.

  There was a gasp and the sound of someone being pushed off the cliff, followed by a splash.

  "Come here, Rib," Griffith commanded from where he stood.

  Go there.

  Rib obeyed immediately, halting before the invisible man.

  "I should have you executed for this betrayal," the voice told him. "And after all the generosity I've shown you!"

  Below, Rib heard Damara resurface, sputtering and splashing, but did not look. His gaze remained fastened on the place where Griffith stood in front of him.

  "Help," the woman choked. "I can't swim!"

  There was a snort of derision from Griffith. "Get her," he ordered.

  Get her.

  Rib turned to the edge of the cliff, peering down. The woman, Damara, was now becoming visible as she fought to stay above water. Nymphs were just arriving to help her as Rib opened his wings and glided down to fetch the woman, taking her up in his talons so he could bring her back to Griffith.

  "Rib!" the woman coughed. "What are you doing?!"

  Guards of half-men and half-beast were there when he reached the top, taking orders from Griffith, who was just now becoming visible as fae servants wiped him down with wet towels.

  "Take this wretch and her dragon to the dungeon," he demanded of the guards, pointing his finger at Rib holding Damara. "And have Oriole shackled here. This is the last time she betrays me."

  "Yes, Sir!" the guards chanted.

  "Rib," Griffith demanded and glared at the dragon. "Give her to these men."

  Rib did just as he said, releasing the woman from his talons into the arms of the guards. She shouted and struggled, reaching for her knife, but the men yanked off her belt and threw it to the ground.

  "Go with them," Griffith growled, nodding to the guards.

  Go with them.

  Rib alighted on the ground and followed the men as they wrestled Damara towards the cliff looming over them. Turning towards the waterfall, they moved along a narrow path chiseled into the rock face, Rib's folded wings brushing against the wet stone.

  They traveled behind the cascading waters until they reached a hollowed out space leading into the cliff. Cells with thick metal-grated doors lined each side of the damp corridor. The one closest to the entrance on the right was opened and the guards shoved Damara inside, ordering Rib to follow after her.

  He did.

  Behind, he heard the gate being shut and locked after them, followed by the echoing of the guards' footsteps which soon disappeared among the sound of the ever-crashing water.

  Rib stood where he was, waiting.

  The young woman in front of him picked herself up from the floor, eyes widened, chest heaving. She stared past him, then at him.

  He remained passive.

  The fear on her face was just beginning to make way to anger.

  In the next moment, her expression crinkled to one of absolute fury.

  "What have you done!" she yelled at Rib, getting in his face. "Why did you help him, you traitor?!" She searched him with biting eyes, teeth bared in a snarl, fists clenched. Water dripped from her short, soaked hair and the fabric of her sodden dress still clung to her.

  Rib stared back blankly.

  Damara held her stance against him for a while longer, then pushed past to the door. He could hear her kick the metal grate and swear under her breath.

  All the while, Rib did not move.

  He stood there, facing the wall until morning light flooded through the crashing waterfall and filled the dungeon. By then, the woman with him had gone to sit on a crumbling stone in the corner, quiet as she glowered straight ahead of her. A glinting streak ran down her cheek, and something inside Rib turned his attention to it.

  Tear.

  His mind slowly began to churn inside his head, formulating thoughts.

  Tear on her face.

  Damara is crying.

  Rib blinked, processing why Damara would be crying, where they were, what had happened. As he finally came to understand their situation, he was seized by fear and collapsed on the stone floor.

  We've been caught! His breath came, short and rapid. Griffith said he wants us executed!

  What do we do?!

  "Good morning," Damara's caustic voice cut through the noise of the waterfall.

  Rib stared up at her from the ground. She had tears down both sides of her pale freckled face, but she glared right back at him, through the water brimming over her eyelashes.

  "Damara," Rib heaved. "Damara, what did he do to me? I couldn't think!"

  The young woman did not answer, but flicked her eyes back towards the door. Rib turned and dragged himself over to it, peering through the heavy metal grate to see the outside. The light was brilliant from the dungeon entrance, but only cascading water could be seen through it.

  "Oriole!" Rib yelled. "Oriole, help us!"

  "Shut up!" Damara snapped at
him. "Didn't you hear Griffith tell the guards to shackle her? She's useless to us."

  "What do we do?" Rib begged the young woman, facing her. "We have to escape!"

  Damara gave him a scornful sneer. "Better start thinking, then."

  She doesn't know what to do?

  No?she always has a plan!

  But as he stared back at her, he could see it in her eyes. There was no way out. She had no plans because there were none to have. They were hopeless.

  Devastated, he lay back down.

  No escape, no cure, nothing?

  He settled in this thoughts like a sinking stone.

  Now I'll never see Memory again. How could I save her when I can't save myself?

  The moisture was heavy in their prison cell. Rib breathed in yet another lung-full of wet, dense air, utterly miserable.

  "It's my fault we're in here," he groaned from the puddled floor. "I could have saved us?but instead I gave us over to that man."

  Damara sat against a damp wall, head leaned back, eyes closed.

  "He bewitched you," she uttered.

  Bewitched me? With that awful cloud of dust?

  I could have held my breath. I could have flown away with Damara.

  Rib blinked as something occurred to him.

  Maybe?maybe that's why my sister saved Zheal when she could have escaped.

  Rib lifted his head as he thought about it.

  "That must be it!" he exclaimed out of nowhere. "Memory never runs away because Zheal uses that powder on her! He bewitches my sister!"

  Agitated, he got up and paced their cell.

  "What are you talking about?" Damara asked, furrowing her brow.

  Mind racing, Rib told her what Oriole had said about his sister. How Memory saved Zheal when she could have fled on her own.

  "Don't you see?" he said, claws scratching the stone floor as he paced. "It makes total sense."

  Damara, however, didn't look so convinced. "If Zheal didn't learn until then that he needed dragon fire to craft potions, then how could he have bewitched her before?"

  How?how could he have?

  Rib was stalled by her question.

  That powder?he could have gotten a hold of it, not made it.

  Or maybe he doesn't need the fire to make it.

  "There must be an explanation," he responded adamantly. "Zheal enslaves her with magic, I'm sure of it."

  Damara didn't say anything, but leaned her head back again.

  That's it?

  Doesn't she care at all?

  This is important!

  But?she's right, Rib realized, slowing his restless movement. There's nothing we can do about it.

  The sinking feeling returned, weighing down on his head, his tail, his entire body.

  I've failed Memory.

  Just then, a couple of guards came in, holding another prisoner.

  "Gavin!" Rib exclaimed, horrified to see his friend be pushed and locked into the cell across from him.

  "Gavin," Rib repeated, staring through the cell doors as the guards left again. The young man's tunic was torn and half of it hung at his waist, revealing a strange scar on his chest Rib had never seen before. But he paid little attention to the mark as Gavin sat on the ground with a heavy sigh.

  "Hey," he said.

  "What happened?" Rib beseeched. "Why did they catch you too?"

  Gavin took off his ripped tunic and tossed it aside. "I tried to come for you both when I knew something was wrong. Lot of help that did." He flicked a pebble at the wall, its pinging echoing around the chamber. "I'm sorry. There are so many better ways I could have helped. I guess this is what I get for trying on bravery." He snorted.

  But he came for us, all the same. Rib thought the attempt profound. He must have known it was impossible, and yet he tried.

  "Did Griffith speak to you?" Damara asked from her seat, voice cool and steady.

  He shrugged. "Sure he did. Called me a traitor and had the guards throw me in here. That was all. I saw Oriole, too. She's chained up. Begged me to tell you she was sorry."

  Oriole?she's just as helpless as we are now.

  As helpless as the Wystilians dying from plague.

  As helpless as Memory.

  I've failed everyone.

  . . .

  By what must have been noon, Damara and Gavin had come as close as they could to each other, speaking through their metal grated doors. Rib only half listened to them, wallowing in his misery, emptily studying the rust on the bars.

  "Gavin," Damara said after a while. "Can I ask you a?bold question?"

  The hesitance in her voice made Rib pay closer attention, turning his heavy head to them.

  The young man grinned just as he used to, though locked in a dungeon with no plan of escape. "Well, you have to- now that you've got me curious," he answered.

  Damara was quiet a moment longer, then, "Were you a slave?"

  The question took Rib by surprise.

  "What?" he scorned, looking to his cell mate. "What gives you that idea?"

  Damara nodded in Gavin's direction.

  "He has a brand on his chest."

  A brand? Rib focused his eyes on what she indicated.

  It was the scar he'd noticed before, pale and so perfectly round and clean that no accident he could think of would explain it. About the size of Gavin's fist, the mark was a full circle with the outline of an opened-mouth sea serpent inside it.

  That was done by human hands, Rib could tell, growing increasingly disturbed.

  "Gavin," he said. "What does that mean?"

  His friend's face had become weary and resigned. Silently, he gazed down at his empty hands in his lap, then met Rib's eyes.

  "It means what Damara thinks it means," he answered. "I was a slave."

  No?

  "But-" Rib stammered. "But when? How?"

  "Huskhns," Gavin murmured. "They invaded my family's land and took me as a child? Branded me. Sold me in the market place."

  Rib stared at his friend. "I don't understand! Mortaug's a Huskhn. He-"

  "Bought me." Gavin's expression was wry.

  Mortaug?bought Gavin as a slave?

  The words hardly made any sense to Rib. "I- I can't believe it?"

  Gavin sighed. "He pleaded my forgiveness as soon as I could understand his hands," he went on. "Being saved by the ones he'd wronged is what changed him. That day he came back, healed from the moth dust. He told me I was a free man. But I didn't have any other life to go to?so I stayed."

  Rib was shocked into silence.

  "Gavin," Damara said, "I am so sorry."

  She's sorry? What should she care?

  I'm the one who's been his friend all this time!

  "How could you not tell me this?!" Rib burst suddenly, angry with Gavin. "We've been friends for years and now you mention it?"

  The young man's eyes darkened and he glared at Rib. "You think I like to remember this? The worst years of my life?"

  "No, but?" Rib's heart sank inside his chest. "I thought I knew you?"

  Gavin folded his arms through the grate to lean on his door. "You do," he said. "You know who I am now. The person I want you to know me as."

  Rib held his friend's gaze, barely knowing how to feel. Only sadness made itself clear to him, pulling at him, telling him to lay down his head, lay down to rest.

  He followed sadness' bidding, and closed his eyes.

  Gavin was a slave?

  A slave like my sister is now.

  Chapter 15