Dragon Redeemed

by Hopkins, Linda K.

  “No!” Lydia and Evelyn both said. “We can’t just forget about him,” Lydia added.

  “We would never forget him, Lydia, but you saw what he was like. There was nothing left of him before, and now – I’m not sure he can even understand us.”

  “He’s my son, Zach!”

  “Not anymore, Lydia!” he growled, teeth clenched together.

  “We can’t give up hope,” Evelyn said. “I promised to go back once your ceremonies were done, so I will go back. I will find a way to reach him.”

  “Zach’s right,” Aaron said. “He may be beyond our reach now.”

  “I must still try! He wanted me there before, so deep inside he must know something!”

  “You’re being foolish, Evelyn!” Zach shook his fist as flames leapt into his eyes. “He’s gone! And he’s not coming back!” Lleland placed a hand on Zach’s arm and he shook it off angrily.

  “No! I cannot believe that!” Evelyn shouted. She turned to Aaron. “Take me back, please.”

  He passed a hand over his eyes. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  “Yes.” Beside her, Zach growled.

  Aaron dropped his hand and met her gaze. “Very well, if that is what you want. But tomorrow. Right now I need some time alone with Keira.” He smiled wearily at his wife and took her hand. “Shall we?” he asked.

  Her smile was her response, and she led him from the room and up the stairs. Evelyn left the room as well, unwilling to hear any further arguments from Zach, and headed to her chamber. All of her belongings had been brought from Uncle’s house, and she scanned them quickly, deciding what she should take with her for a stay in a cave.

  Evelyn and Aaron left the city early the next morning. They walked on foot to the hills behind the palace before Aaron transformed and lifted Evelyn onto his back. He soared on silent wings towards the cave, landing a few feet from the entrance. It took a moment for Evelyn’s eyes to adjust to the dim surroundings, but when they did, it was to see Drægón lying on a bed of embers, his head turned towards them, his lips curled in a snarl as he took in the pair.

  “Are you sure about this?” Aaron said softly.

  “Yes.”

  A growl rumbled through Drægón’s chest. Aaron turned back to Evelyn with his eyebrows raised, but when she nodded, he left the cave. Drægón stared at her for another moment, then turning around in the ash, slumped back down on the pile and closed his eyes.

  She took some blankets and pillows from her bag and settled herself on the ground. She had brought more art supplies and some additional books with her, as well as some unfinished needlework and a few games. Leaning back against the wall, she threaded a needle and began to ply it through a piece of fabric.

  Drægón stirred in his sleep, scattering embers across the floor as a stream of flame escaped his mouth. He truly was a magnificent beast, she thought. Hugely, terrifyingly magnificent. Laying aside the needlework, she withdrew a sheet of parchment from her bag and began to sketch the dragon lying in the flames. Fiery tendrils curled around him, and beneath his belly embers glowed. The tips of his wings touched the ground and she wondered what they felt like. Laying aside her paper and pencil, she crept forward. Her eyes darted to the dragon’s head before she slowly stretched out her hand and touched the tip of a finger against his wing. She withdrew it hurriedly, but when he didn’t stir she did it again, this time stroking her hand over the white surface. The wing was much softer than she expected. She moved her hand to his scales. They were as hard as rock beneath her fingers, but warm and smooth. Each was the size of a small plate and they glided together with barely even a crack. She crept to his tail and hovered a finger over one of the sharp spikes, before slowly bringing it down. It was as sharp as it looked, and she sucked a bead of blood that welled to the surface. His tail was as long as his body and he had curled it around himself, resting his head on the tip, between two spikes. She carefully slid back to where she had been sitting and resumed her drawing.

  The dragon woke as the sun was sinking in the sky. He glanced at her briefly, but said nothing before soaring from the cave and towards the lowering orb of light. He was gone only a short while, returning just as the last ray of sun slipped behind the horizon.

  “Did you have a good flight?” she asked as he settled himself back in the embers. He cocked his head at her, then turned away and lay down. It had grown too dark to do anything, and she leaned against the rock wall and watched him, pulling the blanket close around herself and lying down on the hard ground.

  Evelyn was hungry when she awoke the next morning. Drægón was watching her closely as she pushed the blanket aside and rose, stretching to release the ache in her muscles.

  “Are you hunting today?” she asked. The dragon stared at her. “Because if you are, I would really appreciate it if you could bring me something.” She tapped the log he had used to bring her water before. “And perhaps some water as well.”

  His tail flicked over his sooty bed, stirring ash into the air. Rising, he spread his wings and flew out of the cave, narrowly missing her with his tail. She watched as he soared away, hoping this meant he would return with food.

  As the hours passed, she swept the rocky ground clean of ash with dry branches she found outside the cave. The sun crossed the sky, and still Drægón did not return. Her hunger had grown stronger, and the ash had settled in her throat, making her parched. There was a path leading from the cave and she followed it, hoping it would take her to the river she knew ran through the hills. She passed a low bush of blackberries, and she stuffed them eagerly into her mouth, barely noticing the sweet flavor as they filled her belly. She walked on further, but when the river remained elusive, she reluctantly retraced her steps back to the cave.

  Drægón returned a short while later, but brought neither food nor water. He glared at her before slumping down on his pile of embers and promptly going to sleep. Fighting a rising sense of despair, Evelyn gathered a parchment and pencil and began to sketch the sleeping dragon. The activity helped to soothe her, but as she worked, she realized that Zach had been right all along. Nothing of her husband remained in the beast before her. She leaned her head against the walls as the tears slipped silently down her cheeks and into her hair. Remaining in the cave with the dragon would probably mean certain death – either at the end of his claws or through lack of food and water. She glanced outside. She didn’t know when Aaron would return, but if she left at first light, she could probably make it back to the city by nightfall.

  She returned her attention to her drawing, resolve strengthening her will. The sketch would be her last reminder of the husband that she’d had, then lost.

  Drægón was gone when she awoke the next morning, and she gathered her belongings with a sigh of relief. She stuffed them in the sack and leaned it against the wall of the cave for Aaron to retrieve later. Heading out of the cave, she followed the path she had taken the previous day. She paused along the way to eat the berries that had ripened overnight, her eyes searching for more bushes that would provide nourishment. A shadow passed overhead, and she looked up to see Drægón circling the sky above her as her foot caught a rock in the path and she tripped, stumbling to the ground with a little squeak as her knee hit the rock. A sharp point gouged her skin, and she bit her lip as she rolled over in the dust. Blood gushed from the wound and ran down her leg, staining her gown as she pressed the fabric against it to staunch the flow. She hobbled along the path until the pain began to ease. She had not gone too much further, however, when a large form dropped from the sky and landed a few feet before her, making her stumble back in surprise. She straightened her back as she began to walk around the dragon in her path.

  “I’m leaving,” she said. “You can have your cave back.”

  He cocked his head at her, watching her intently as she pushed her way through the bushes that lined the trail. His tail flicked out, barring her path, and she shot him a look of annoyance.

  “I cannot stay any longer,”
she said, picking her way around the offending appendage. “I will die of starvation if I do.”

  He hopped around to face her, and she stopped, her hands on her hips as she glared at him. Their gazes clashed for a moment, before he grabbed her in his talons and lifted her into the air.

  “Let me down,” she yelled. “I cannot go back with you.”

  He ignored her and turned back in the direction that she had just come from.

  “No,” she shouted. “Just let me go!”

  The dragon tightened his grasp as he headed back to the cave, the air sparkling with the flames that streamed from his mouth and died away in the cool air.

  Chapter 38

  Drægón knew the human was upset. He had seen her tears the night before and sensed her sadness. He did not know what had caused her distress, but he knew he could not allow her to go. She belonged with him.

  Ignoring her struggles, he headed back to the cave. Perhaps she was hungry. Her belly did not hold as much as his. Once she was back at the cave, he would hunt for her. Perhaps that would make her happy.

  He lowered her gently to the ground and stepped back. He had hoped she would be glad to be back, but instead she seemed even angrier than before. He cocked his head and tasted the air. Her anger was sour and he frowned. She must be very hungry.

  He turned and launched himself through the opening of the cave, returning a few minutes later with a rabbit in his claws. She had lost her anger, but the sadness had returned. He held out his offering, hoping it would please her, but she only gave it a quick glance before making some garbled sounds and dropping her head in her hands.

  He frowned. Perhaps rabbit was not to her liking. He laid the carcass on the floor and headed out once more, this time returning with a partridge which he laid beside the rabbit. She stared at the offerings for a moment, then picked up the partridge and held it out to him. She made some noises again, but even without the words, he understood what she wanted. He ripped it open, then handed it back to her. A stick lay on the ground near his fire, and he snagged it with a talon and passed it to her. She smiled, but it lacked the warmth he was used to, and he frowned. She still was not happy. Perhaps once her belly was full she would be satisfied.

  He fell back to watching as she skewered the meat and held it over the heat of his bed. She seemed a little more content once she had eaten her fill, and he was glad. She leaned back against the wall and he watched her carefully. The walk from the cave must have exhausted her, because she fell asleep within a few moments. He leaned closer and sniffed, then drew back when the scent of blood filled his nostrils. He brought his nose closer once more and sniffed the length of her body. She had injured herself somewhere beneath her covering. He pushed the fabric aside with his claw and looked at her knee, scraped and bloodied. The blood had trailed down her leg and into her boot. The blood called to him, and he ran his tongue over it, cleaning the wound. Unlike the blood of the dragons he had tasted, hers was sweet. He pulled back to inspect her, then licked a spot he had missed, savoring the taste. A streak of blood covered her forehead also, and he lingered as he ran his tongue over it, then down her cheek. She stirred and he pulled back, worried that she would be frightened by his touch, but she didn’t open her eyes and a moment later her breathing was even again.

  He wondered if she was uncomfortable, lying against the wall; he tugged her gently, pausing to see if she would wake, then carried her closer to the fire when she didn’t. He curled himself around her and closed his eyes.

  A woman lay in his arm, soft and supple, and he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in her scent. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her, tasting her as their tongues danced together. She moaned, and he whispered a name as he buried his hand in her wild mass of curls. Her hand moved to his bare back, her flesh soft against his, and she stroked him, arousing him to a new sense of awareness. He rolled over and stared into her eyes as he filled her, and she threw back her head with a groan, pushing him to greater heights as they strove together, reaching higher and higher. He collapsed onto the bed, his arms pulling her tight against his chest as he whispered her name into her hair.

  “Evie?”

  Evelyn stirred as a voice crept through her mind. She grasped at the last remnants of her dream, but they were quickly fading, leaving a desolate loneliness in their wake. “Evie?” The voice was confused, uncertain, and she opened her eyes, then sat up in surprise when she saw the dragon curled around her. A quick glance around the cave showed she was alone, and she frowned. She was certain someone had called her name. Her eyes flew back to the dragon, who was watching her carefully.

  “Evie?” the voice spoke again, but it wasn’t said out loud. Instead it was spoken in her thoughts.

  “Xavier?” she said.

  “Drægón,” he corrected.

  “You’re speaking in my mind,” she said. “How’s that possible?”

  He considered this for a moment. “Mind speak,” he confirmed.

  “But can’t you speak to me normally?”

  “No … talk.”

  “You can’t speak?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Drægón,” he said simply.

  “But you know who I am?”

  “Evie.”

  She smiled. “Yes.” She leaned forward to touch him, then hesitated. He pushed his head into her hand, and she stroked him carefully.

  “How can you speak to me like this?” she asked.

  His forehead furrowed as his gaze swept over her. “Blood,” he said.

  “Blood?”

  He nosed her gown with his snout, and she lifted it to reveal her leg, clear of blood. “You cleaned my blood?”

  “Yes,” he said happily.

  “Can you speak to others like this?”

  He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No.” He inched his head closer and laid it against her leg, then closed his eyes. She stared at him, trying to understand what had happened. That he could speak in her mind amazed her; that he could no longer speak out loud terrified her.

  She rose from her nest and carefully stepped over his tail. He opened one eye to watch her, then lifted his head in a sudden movement.

  “Eat?” he said, but before she could respond he was soaring from the cave. He returned a short while later with a partridge which he ripped open and offered her. “Eat,” he said. “Happy.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Do you think you can find some water as well?”

  He cocked his head and frowned as though considering her words, and it occurred to her that he might not fully understand. “Water?” she repeated. The frown disappeared, and he grabbed the tree trunk that still lay in the cave and disappeared once more. She cooked the partridge, and when he returned, she drank her fill. He settled back on the ground and watched her. He was frowning again, and Evelyn wondered what it meant. Was he trying to say something?

  “What is it, Drægón?” she asked, speaking slowly.

  He glanced around the cave and his eyes settled on her book. She followed the gaze, then looked back at him. “You want me to read to you?” He looked back at the book, and she picked it up. “From this?” He pulled a dragonish smile. “This is a book,” she said. “Can you say that?”

  It took a moment of considered thought before the word came into her mind. “Book.”

  “Yes. And can you say ‘read’?”

  Again he repeated the word. She settled herself onto the ground, but Drægón inched towards her, wrapping himself around her again until his side was at her back. He pressed himself against her, and after a moment she leaned against his armored side as a rumble of contentment shook his chest. He closed his eyes as she read, continuing until her voice was hoarse.

  The next few days were the same. Drægón spoke a few words into her mind, and Evelyn read or painted. Each morning she swept the ash from the cave floor as he watched in astonishment. If she left the cave, he followed her from above, watching until she returned. He
continued to hunt for her and brought her water whenever her supply ran out. Once he returned with a small pile of berries, and she smiled in delight.

  The days were growing colder, and she abandoned her place at the wall and slept within the circle of Drægón’s body at night, content within his nest of warmth. She watched closely for signs that he was becoming more human in his speech and actions, but he struggled to say words, even in her mind. He remained near her side continually, but his wants and desires remained purely beastly. Perhaps, she thought despairingly, this was the best she could hope for.

  One cold morning, a thin layer of snow on the ground, Drægón left to go hunting and Aaron arrived a short while later. He landed near the mouth of the cave and changed into his human form, quickly pulling on some garments. He led her outside the cave and sat down with her at the lip of a large rock.

  “Are you ready to return to the city?” he asked.

  She smiled. “I was. I tried to leave, but he brought me back.”

  “You can leave with me now,” he said.

  “No. He’s started to speak again. Not out loud, but in my mind.”

  Aaron frowned. “Do you know why?”

  “He said it was the blood.”

  “Blood?”

  “It was after my escape attempt. I had fallen and scraped my knee. He cleaned it while I slept.”

  Astonishment swept across Aaron’s features, before resolving into a smile. “I see.”

  “What do you see?” she asked suspiciously.

  “I’ve been thinking about Xavier a great deal, trying to understand what happened. When he was hit by the Greek fire, he sustained an injury no human could possibly survive. I believe it killed the part of him that was human. When he was reborn, he emerged fully dragon. That was why he could remember nothing of his human self.”