Spies Among Us

by L. L. Bower

  “I’m glad it’s not your blood.”

  I feel the ground shake and look toward the horizon to see six fully armed minotaurs tramping our way from beyond the exit we used. There must be another entrance to the caves we don’t know about. They spread out and lumber forward at a slow jog.

  Jade motions with her chin for me to get on her back.

  She lies down, so I can climb up. I pick Noblesse up off the ground, stow her and grab some of Jade’s scales as we hear someone shout, “Their footprints head this way.” If they can see Jade, they must think she’s one of the prison guards. I don’t think they’ve seen me yet.

  Jade crouches, lifts her head and springs forward. At a dead run, she ascends upward at a dizzying speed. Her strength and agility have increased dramatically since I was last on her back. The wind whips my hair and tears at my shabby clothes. The guards look up and then continue their search. They must figure she’s on their side.

  As we gain elevation, I peer over her shoulder.

  “I’ll take care of them,” she says.

  She swoops down and sprays green saliva at the guards in an arc. They cry out in pain as they try to rub her acid off their arms and heads. As Jade circles, we see a couple of them roll on the ground, I assume to work the green stuff off. They get back up, and after hollering some more, all of them turn and run out of sight. I’m guessing they’re heading for the closest water source to wash off the acid.

  “Nice work.”

  Jade circles some more to make sure the guards are gone. “I can take you to Crisa. She’s been looking for you for weeks.”

  “I’m anxious to see her. But, before you do, I need to find my fellow prisoners, so they can follow.”

  “Of course.”

  We patrol the wooded area and look for signs of my companions. When I view a large, white-haired head between some pine branches, I point. Jade finds a clearing nearby, large enough to land. When we’ve landed, I jump onto the ground and head for where we saw Geryen.

  As I reach the giant, the others emerge from the undergrowth. “You don’t have to worry about the guards. They’re gone, at least for now. Follow me.” I wave them forward.

  When we reach Jade, they take one look at my big green dragon, stop, and back up, frightened looks on their faces. They all turn, ready to run.

  “Wait!” I yell. “This is Jade. She’s a friend.” I neglect to call her my daughter, as I think the others might not understand.

  Everyone stops and faces me again. I pat her on the leg to prove it’s safe. “She took care of the minotaurs that were chasing us.”

  I introduce my dragon to all my friends, whereupon she bows her head. “Glad to meet each of you. Any friend of Calen’s is a friend of mine.”

  Claymont shakes his head. “A dragon as a friend, and who speaks English? Amazing. Never did I think I’d see such a thing.”

  “Jade and I have a special bond,” I say. “We can communicate telepathically. She tells me that my friends have been looking for Galdo’s prison for weeks. They wanted to help me escape, but we beat them to it.”

  “So where do we go now?” Mordea asks.

  “Jade and I will rendezvous with my friends. You can all follow us on the ground.” I pause. “We’ll keep circling back, so we don’t lose you.”

  My dragon nods.

  “You’re going to fly with her?” Geryen raises his bushy eyebrows, which are a single hairy line above his large eyes. “Is that safe?”

  “I’ve raised her from birth.” I rub her leg, and she purrs. “I trust no one more.”

  Jade crouches. I climb back onto her back and grab some neck scales again. My companions’ eyes grow bigger.

  “Ready to go?” I look around at the group as they stare. Finally, Geryen says, “Lead on.”

  Jade does her usual run-up to get airborne, and my companions look up with slack jaws. Then, as she climbs, Jade asks, “Can I show you what I can do now?”

  “As long as I don’t fall.”

  “I’ll catch you if you do. Hang on tight!”

  She flips over, and I find myself hanging from her neck by one arm. My legs dangle like flags in the wind, but before I can yell out in surprise, she flips back over again and soars upward in a spiral. I become light-headed from the world spinning around me, so I squeeze her torso with my legs.

  “Ehaw!” I cry out.

  “Are you enjoying yourself?” There’s a smile in her voice as she levels out.

  “I’m not sure ‘enjoying’ is the right word. I’ve dreamt about our flights together, and I’ve missed them. But I never dreamt of anything this exciting.” I take a deep breath, as I’d forgotten to breathe during our ascent. “But where are Galdo’s dragons? Why haven’t they attacked us?”

  “I’ll tell you about them later. Just know, they’re leaving us alone.”

  We swoop left and right and make more dizzying circles in the air. The wind roars past my ears, and my overgrown hair tickles my eyes and ears as Jade keeps my fellow ex-prisoners in sight.

  While we wait for my companions to catch up, Jade glides upward on thermals and rides wind currents across the mountain tops. I can tell how much she loves flying.

  Grog, my bugbear friend, told me one day why dragons nearly went extinct. During a darker period in Fairyland’s history, numinal hunters snuck into the dragons’ nests, while the mothers were out foraging for food.

  They clipped the hatchings’ wings, a dangerous endeavor which cost them some fingers. As a result, the infants couldn’t fly but also couldn’t attack villages or livestock. Back then, dragons were assumed to be evil with “beast” mentalities; that is, little intelligence and no discernment. That was before Crisa was born and before anyone knew how to communicate with them.

  As a result of the clipped wings, a whole generation of dragons grew up without flight. This new generation started dying off from a mysterious illness that many believed stemmed from depression at not being able to soar.

  The few remaining dragons hid in the hills to avoid capture or death and were not seen for hundreds of years. They were rarely sighted even after that.

  Of course, the next generation had wings, so their numbers increased again. Only in recent times, when a sorcerer learned how to communicate with them, did anyone entertain the possibility they weren’t evil, that they could be reasoned with and even trained.

  “Oh, no.” I feel Jade’s body tense underneath me, as she dives for the ground.

  Peering around her neck, I watch a horde of goblins menacing two wolves.

  Chapter 5 – Reunion

  The cackling goblins must hear Jade’s wings because they stop their rush toward the wolves to look up, their maces poised to strike. When Jade squirts acidic drool at them, they hop back to avoid being burnt. Jade swoops over them, roaring, and they scatter, chattering like frightened children. They won’t soon be back.

  Jade lands in front of the wolves, and I recognize one of them as my old friend Brutus.

  “Hi, buddy,” I say to him. He barks in response.

  “I’ve missed you too.” I slide off Jade’s back.

  Brutus wags his tail. I reach down to hug him, though I don’t have to bend far. His head stands at my waist.

  Jade bows her head, and in my head, she says, “I’m sorry. I should have let you handle those goblins.” But she’s not speaking to me.

  The blue-eyed she-wolf, who has a hummingbird flitting over her back, stares at Jade, and I assume she’s communicating back because Jade responds with, “You’re too kind, but I believe everyone deserves a second chance. That’s why I let them retreat instead of destroying them.”

  I’m proud of my not-so-little dragonette. Somewhere along the line, she’s developed a deep sense of compassion, even for those who don’t show compassion themselves. I wonder in what other ways she’s matured.

  Jade soars into the air again to point the way for my companions.

  I gaze deeply into the eyes of the wolf beside Brutus,
made of the brightest topaz-blue I’ve ever seen. I know those eyes.

  “Crisa, I’m so glad to see you again,” and I mean it. I’ve missed my mentor and trainer, the easy way we have with each other, and how we share interests like chess, fishing and nature.

  Crisa is the offspring of an immortal sorceress, Circe, and the half mortal Hercules. If she weren’t a nearly immortal female who’ll never age with the most powerful magic in Fairyland, other than the Creator’s, I’d ask her out on a date. But then, she’d probably say no, as I’m not her type. I’m mortal, though hard to kill, have limited numinal ability, and am nothing to write home about looks-wise. She deserves someone a whole lot better because in her human form, she’s beautiful. Definitely out of my league.

  After waving her paw like a wand, Crisa whispers in my head, “Shh, I don’t want prying ears to know who I really am. I just cast a perm spell that allows you to read my thoughts, so we can converse privately. And it’s good to see you too.” She doesn’t say it, but I get the impression that she’s missed me too. Hmm, maybe there’s something there after all.

  I should tell you that, during my initial magical training with Crisa, she taught me a little about spells. Two categories of spells exist in Fairyland—temporary and permanent. A spell’s duration depends upon the length she gives it. I remember a few months ago how she turned Esmeralda into a woman, a “temp” spell that wore off, to test the transmutation she developed that would later change me into a centaur. My spell, however, was a “perm” one, until she chose to remove it.

  The hummingbird, who’s alighted on Crisa’s fuzzy head, ruffles her feathers and spreads them out in a stretch. It’s the first time I’ve seen a hummingbird without its wings moving. The bird states, “My name’s Ruby, daughter of Redwing. I happened upon the dungeon not long ago and was leading these two there.”

  “Hi, Ruby, nice to meet you. I’m grateful for your help.”

  “Glad to be of assistance. Now that it seems I’m no longer needed here as a guide, I have other messages to deliver. Toodle-oo.” And with that Ruby flits up and dashes away.

  Crisa asks, “Whose blood is on your shirt?”

  “It’s bat blood. Galdo conjured large bats to keep us from escaping.”

  “Oh, my,... but I’m glad it’s not your blood and that you were able to escape. I’m sorry we didn’t get to you sooner. We’ve been hunting for your whereabouts ever since you disappeared. And, if it hadn’t been for Ruby, we might have searched for a long time to come. Apparently the prison is underground and well hidden.”

  “Yes, on both counts.” When we first met, Crisa appeared as a huge and vicious wolf, so my fright would cause me to manifest my weather-inducing power, and so she might observe my ability. That day, she looked like I’d pictured the hound of the Baskervilles in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s famous tale. Her eyes weren’t blue that day, but red-rimmed and coal black, and her fur was dark and matted.

  Today, she’s the epitome of a six-foot gray wolf with a white mantle, gray muzzle, face and ears, a fluffy thick coat and huge white paws with two-inch talons. The soft ethereal glow she exhibits in human form, visible only to someone like me who’s been touched by a royal fairy, disappears when she takes on animal form.

  Now I’m aware how she can not only shapeshift into any animal, but also take on different characteristics within a particular species.

  “It’s so nice to be free again,” I tell Crisa. “And thanks for sending that goblin with my sword. That’s how I was able to escape.”

  “A goblin?” Crisa tilts her wolfish head. “Was his name Loudon?”

  Jade lands nearby again, and I anticipate my friends will emerge from the forest anytime. Brutus pads over to Jade and pulls forest undergrowth from between her claws with his teeth. They appear to have developed a strong friendship while I was imprisoned.

  “Yes, son of Mordon.” I reply. “He was an answer to prayer.”

  Crisa’s dazzling blue eyes look into mine, and she nods her furry head. I try to keep my heart beating at a normal pace. “Of course. Through a hummingbird, I did ask him to encourage you, but I didn’t instruct him to get your sword. That’s something he did on his own, probably at great peril.”

  “I’m grateful for his bravery then.”

  A squirrel scampers out of the brush, stops like he’s been shot when he sees us, and then scurries across the road. I’m guessing that seeing a dragon and two wolves has taken years off his life.

  Through mental transfer, Crisa says, “Loudon isn’t the only spy in Galdo’s lair. Some of the dragons are on our side, thanks to Jade’s efforts. We’ve learned they’re not the vicious creatures we thought.”

  “I can attest to that. I encountered a black dragon that aided me during my escape.”

  Crisa nods and adds, “Remember the dragon attack on the centaur village?”

  “Too well.”

  “Jade told me those dragons were careful not to hurt anybody, only damaging houses and lands. If they’d wanted to kill, they would have. I understand that the centaur who died, Horatio, was killed by Galdo’s hand.”

  I nod. “You’re right. I hadn’t considered how much worse it could have been.”

  “And like our goblin friend Loudon, some of the other dark creatures have joined us too. Ruby told me that even a few of the ogres are having second thoughts about Galdo’s leadership because he treats them so badly. She said one ogre was beheaded because he didn’t address Galdo as ‘Your Majesty, Sir.’”

  I shake my head. “Figures. Galdo is just plain crazy. His love of power is so intense it’s driven him to madness. I wonder why the Creator lets him live.”

  “I don’t have an answer for that,” Crisa says, “but I do know that good will triumph in the end. Evil flourishes for a time, but evil is always weaker. I’ve seen tyrants like Galdo defeated on many occasions throughout my centuries of existence. Sometimes though, the lives of many good beings are lost on the way to evil’s defeat.”

  She looks at Brutus. “Your wolf has something he wants to tell you about himself.”

  “Yes, Brutus, what is it?”

  Brutus yips. I’m grateful that Crisa can interpret for me.

  “Brutus wants you to know that he’s more than a wolf. He’s really a ...”

  All of a sudden, branches crackle as the mermen, oreads, tomtes and Geryen, still carrying Simean, emerge from the woods.

  Brutus looks at Crisa and then sits down. She says, “He says it’s a private matter. He’ll tell you later.”

  She looks at the numinals walking toward us and says, “Now that we’re such a large group, let’s get out of the open to a more secure location.”

  “Come with us.” I motion to my companions. “We need to get under cover.”

  My fellow prisoners hesitate, staring at the two wolves, and their eyes enlarge. “Don’t worry,” I reassure them, “those wolves won’t hurt you.”

  “I’ll patrol the area for dangers,” Jade informs me, while the rest of you are talking. With my super hearing, like yours, Father, I’ll hear trouble coming before it arrives.” She walks a distance away, and I shield my eyes to watch her lift off. With a swoosh of wings, she jogs and then ascends. The gusts her wings create cause the loose forest debris on the ground to swirl up. A moment later, she’s airborne.

  I remember the black dragon in the centaur village that needed a long, running start to take off. Apparently younger, smaller and nimbler dragons, without riders on their backs, find it easier to leave the earth.

  I’ll bet I have a lot to learn about you. I smile at the thought.

  Crisa interrupts my nostalgic thinking. “Who are your friends here?”

  When I introduce everyone, Crisa is shocked that Simean is with us. He’s slumped over Geryen’s back, still asleep, covered by his blanket. “I didn’t think we’d see him again after his banishment to the Realm of Shadows.”

  “You won’t recognize him either. He’s emaciated and weak.”

&n
bsp; She shakes her head. “The Simean I remember was robust and muscular. I’ll do my best to see that he recovers. If he’s willing, we could use his aid in this war.”

  She motions to the others. “Tell your friends I’m pleased to meet them.”

  “The she-wolf says she’s pleased to meet you all. I’m sure you don’t recognize her, but she’s Her Highness, Crisa of Venesia. You can’t understand her speech in wolf form, but I can communicate with her telepathically.”

  Before I’ve finished my introduction, all my companions go down on one knee, bow their heads and put their hands over their hearts. It’s funny to see massive Geryen try to descend to one knee gracefully, even tougher because he has Simean on his back. I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my amusement.

  Crisa raises a paw. “Please, please, tell them to get up. Such tributes belong to the Creator. I am merely his servant. And I need to keep my identity secret.”

  I lower my voice, “Crisa asks you to rise. She needs to stay incognito.”

  The group stands. Geryen groans when tries to rise, but because of his immense bulk, he’s clumsy and off balance. Simean nearly falls from his shoulders, but Geryen catches him in time.

  I turn to my companions, gesture toward Brutus and say, “And this is my faithful dog, Brutus.”

  A couple of them chime, “Hi, Brutus.” He barks in return.

  “I’m going to need all of their and your help,” Crisa says, “because you all know the area better than I do. We’re going to have to return to that dungeon.”

  Horrified, I face her. “Back to that awful place?” I stomp my foot to emphasize my “No!”

  “I’m sorry. If there were any other way ... When Galdo raided my cottage, he took all my spell books. That magic was accumulated over hundreds of years and developed by great magicians like Merlin and Circe, my mother. Galdo’s knowledge of those spells could make him the most powerful being in Fairyland.”

  I sigh and turn to the group. “Crisa says she needs our help. She’s going to break back into our prison.”

  “What?” Geryen’s eyes enlarge and his single bushy eyebrow, the size of a sausage roll, shoots upward.