How would he ever find Annette? As much as he wanted to kill her, he could not deny she was interesting. The silver dragoness was cunning enough to trap an Acama and smart enough to break through the protective wards on his treasure chamber which he had thought were impenetrable. He’d love to know how Annette trapped Kalara, she had to be a powerful dragoness indeed. But even with all that power why would she want to bring the wrath of all dragons down on her? What made Annette want her Acama’s treasure anyway?
Their treasure, Ravanan pictured it in his mind. If Kalara could see it, the material history that recorded their love, maybe then her memories would return. Ravanan did a quick review in his head, seeing again the many etchings, sculptures, and outright acquisitions they had made and claimed. He chided himself then, knowing that Annette would have erased all his work to make her own meaningful art. He took a sharp breath out of anger at the thought. Even if Annette had melted all of it, it didn’t matter to him, he wanted it back, all of it. He would craft it all again from his memory. He did it once and he knew he could remake each piece.
He went back through all he’d learned from Kalara’s weak mind but there simply wasn’t enough pieces to track Annette down. He was going to have to resort to the lengthy and slow method of search-under-every-rock just as he had done for Kalara. It would take a while and that was alright with him, he wasn’t ready to be back at Black Blade lair any time soon. He would see and smell everything, somewhere was a clue, somewhere he would find Annette, force her to cure Kalara, then kill the wretched dragoness and take back his gold.
With a new day came a better mood. The untamed jungle was alive with color. His rain forest was among the most beautiful in the world, maybe not quite as breath-taking as some of the islands he had seen but this was home. Fed by steady water, the land steamed when it wasn’t raining. The grand Amazon River was a source of life, the many floods over the years decorating and sculpting the river basin. He rather enjoyed the catastrophes and seeing how humans responded to them. Every century there always seemed to be ‘The Big Flood’ that took out human dwellings and provided him and his kind with cover that allowed for great feasting without detection. Natural disasters always made the perfect explanation.
Days went by with no clues but it was good to be outside and away from the lair. The many smells across his territory, from flowers to humans in Manaus, were soothing to his aching heart; he knew they would do wonders for Kalara too. If only he could take her out of the lair for a while. But the sight of her broken body still hung in his mind. It was so sad to see her that way, the unexpected nature of the attack, he couldn’t dare let that happen again, not even to try an odd spell that may not work.
Kalara would feel better to get out of the lair for even a short flight. Ravanan questioned how healthy it was to stay cooped up all the time. Each day when he dropped off her food she was the same. He would always bring her food despite his broken heart because he could not kill her. Using the anchors, he was quick about it, masked and invisible – he could not deal with her anymore.
The first time was the hardest, seeing her sleeping that early morning, he just had to get close to her bed, and she just had to be wearing the black robe that he loved, even in her sleep her aura was powerfully wanting him, he had reached and lightly touched her shoulder, he couldn’t help himself, but she started to roll over and he vanished. She had called out to him even, but he couldn’t answer her back, not yet, maybe never.
The hurt was always there, every day. Finally after a few days of delivering her food and secretly seeing her, he started just drawing anchors each time and sending the food by itself.
Time went on for Ravanan. When he approached his northwestern lands he detected the recent scent of another dragon, he took a second, longer inhale then cast “ARMOR” and landed. He felt prickly with alertness, awakened with wide eyes, an intruder!
“Too long.” Ravanan spoke under his breath. He knew his mistake, he had been gone for months from his land and then after his return he’d been too concerned with staying near Kalara and the lair, leaving his borders undefended, another lapse in wisdom on his part.
The dragon would regret coming into his land, Ravanan wasn’t ready to lose any more than he already had; and he was more than ready to take some answers from the young one.
Before he set out he paused and adjusted to his surroundings. There was a burbling creek some distance away and he was on a small game trail that led to the water. The birds and monkeys near him were going about their day, insects were being slowly sucked of their life by larger insects, and an anaconda had just attempted slithering onto his right wing talon but was unnerved by the invisible armor of air that he was wearing and turned back when half of it’ body was hovering a few feet above Ravanan’s scaly skin.
The human Manupaco tribe was nearby, he hadn’t visited there in a few years, but now was not the time to hunt food as he was set on a course. He moved on through the trees, sometimes through flooded marsh land, splashing and squishing as quietly as possible, determined to track down the one scent that was pungent in his nares.
He heard a movement, the sound was too close to be a dragon because he felt no aura. His great head turned to get a visual and then he cast “I’LL CONTROL YOU”. The young warrior was carrying his prey back to the village but he turned instantly and began walking on an intercept path with Ravanan’s. In those moments Ravanan read the warrior’s mind, to learn that lately there had been more death, and heightened fear of the evil spirit called Kanaimi that lurked in the mountains.
Any other time as their paths crossed Ravanan would have shut his jaw around the man and continued on – but not this time. The tribe was wounded by a foolish young dragon and it needed to recover.
The encroacher had fed frequently on the Manupaco, to the point of increasing their fear. The young fool sealed his fate by being too flashy and open. He would suffer even more for his actions. For even if his mate wasn’t an Acama Ravanan would still have been a strict follower of Dragon Law, being very careful to keep all traces of his presence away from man. He even went so far as to use his aura to remove his footprints. He was a careful and vigilant shepherd over his humans. This dragon would pay.
Smelling the forest around him Ravanan sneered and curved his lips, the intruder was young, his scent brash and reckless, arrogant. His body was ready to attack as he followed the trail to the mountains west of the city of Boa Vista. If the scent could be trusted the intruder would be an easy kill.
Ravanan passed out of his territory and into land that before now held little interest for him. The weathered table-top mountains in the Guyana Highlands of Brazil loomed over the jungle, wreathed in clouds. He knew there was a pair of ancient dragons living in one of the mountains but they had never intruded into his lands before and he never bothered them, always keeping the bulk of his hunting to Manaus. This scent he was following didn’t smell like them. Their lair was not far and it was a good place to start looking.
His first guess was right, the young dragon’s trail led straight to the lair that was located inside a tepui, which was a Brazilian mesa. Near the center of the table top was a hole so wide that three dragons wingtip to wingtip could not span it. The lair was old, formed by rain over the eons, falling into a crevice, widening it, grain by grain. It looked bottomless, a small river was falling into it, endlessly trying to fill it up. A whole ecosystem of mosses and ferns were draped on the wet walls, afraid to descend into the darkness.
From behind lone boulders Ravanan watched the lair for days to learn the daily schedule of the intruder. There were very few trees, the lushness of the forest was not up there on the mesa. The rock was barren, bleached dry by rain, something like a giant bone of the earth. Ravanan searched the whole countryside looking for secondary exits and he found none. All of his movements were slow, methodical, and during the information gathering only two times had he actually been close enough to sense the aura of the dragon. The young brown male hadn
’t sensed him, as Ravanan stayed completely hidden.
Ravanan suspected for some time that through his exhaustive searching for Kalara his aura detection range had increased. This intruder had given him the perfect chance to test his theory. His detection limit was now nearly three striking distances, while the brown dragon could only detect at the normal two. Ravanan judged by the male’s size that he was maybe a century old, no more than two, probably still without a mate, but definitely looking for one. Ravanan had yet to pick up any sign of a dragoness nearby.
Ravanan didn’t need to interrogate him to know what he’d done. The brown male had to have bested the ancient pair and took their lair and treasure with his youth, treasure he didn’t deserve and Ravanan’s gold was now with it. Those ancient dragons didn’t just die of old age, there were well-known spells to counteract that. Sometimes, when a dragon is very old, a fight to the death is welcomed, he couldn’t see how a young one could win without the battle being given to him, especially against two time-tested dragons that fought perfectly together. It was an esteemed class of dragons, where you could count on the other dragon to always get your back, it was like single-minded and strategic fighting with two bodies because the connection was so great. He and Kalara had been nearing that level of pairing until she forgot everything. He choked as tears rose in his throat from yearning for the past and swallowed hard in an effort to clear his mind.
When he was sure he knew everything there was to know about his opponent, Ravanan began preparing for battle by making an anchor of retreat should things turn for the worse; it was more out of habit than it was doubt of success. Ravanan waited for the night to deepen, thinking by tomorrow night he’d have his treasure back and a whole lot more.
Chapter 13
It was a sunny afternoon in Manaus, Brazil, a cab pulled up to the travel agency and let Annette out. She entered and was greeted in Portuguese by a woman behind the counter.
Annette showed her a picture of a cliff. “I want to climb this” Annette said perfectly in Portuguese, just like she had practiced it.
The travel agent looked at the picture then back to Annette, pausing. This was the first time she had been asked about that tepui – everybody knew to not bother with that one. The gray mesa, like others, had a waterfall but unlike others this one had a most unusual scar on one of its cliffs – a black blade of hardened magma that cut across its face, rising at an angle and ending half-way up. The dark gabbro rock was stark against the pale quartzite and at its tip the narrow black sword formed a ledge. It was no good to go to that black, evil rock.
The agent pulled out a brochure to point to the five day jungle tour she offered instead, the tour would at least take Annette near there.
“No.” Annette said straightly, it was one of the ten Portuguese words she knew.
The woman smiled and said something else Annette didn’t understand.
“No.” Annette pushed the brochure away, making sure it was understood that she didn’t want the tour.
The woman held up her hand and picked up the telephone. After a short conversation she gestured for Annette to have a sit and handed her a cola to drink while she waited.
Before long a man arrived, he looked to be the owner.
“I am Eduardo Kern, I speak some English can I help you?”
They went to his office and Annette showed him what she wanted to do and what she was willing to pay. The arrangements were made to depart the following morning.
Her tour guide knocked at her door. Annette opened it.
“Good morning, I’m Jeremy, your guide.”
“Thanks for coming. I am so glad you speak English.”
He chuckled and smiled warmly. “You picked the right travel agency, luckily I work for a couple of them. There aren’t a lot of English-speaking guides willing to climb, most just want the jungle and river jobs.”
He picked up her bags and she held the door open for him.
“So you’re from America?” he asked “I am too.”
“I’m from Oklahoma. And you?”
“California. But I got the chance to work down here so I took it.”
They talked more as they made their preparations and boarded the helicopter. As they neared the tepui and Annette saw the black sword for the first time, a lump in her throat made her realize what she was about to do.
After being dropped off they prepared for their climb in the rain.
Jeremy had his concerns about the locale but the money she was dishing out was enough for him to proceed and his boss to sign off on the climb – it seemed strange to Jeremy that his boss accepted, he suspected more than money was involved.
It was becoming evident that she was a natural hiker and accustomed to nature. The woman listened and obeyed everything he asked of her. It was a good thing because he needed to concentrate. This particular tepui was largely off limits as a dangerous cliff, of course everyone in Manaus knew of it, but none would speak of it – there was an ill-feeling that came over those that did.
He was good at climbing, really good, but not one to brag, and he gladly accepted the job that his boss could hardly even speak of.
Just moments before he took hold of the rock Annette stopped him so they could pray. She did the oddest thing he had ever seen when she began to chant.
Her short song ended then she said “Take off your gloves, let me see your hands” and she began taking off hers.
“Whoa.” he moved back, “What is this? What are we doing? Time is wasting.” For him, this was a break in routine and an invasion of his expertise and authority.
“This won’t take long, but we can’t go until we are blessed. You have made all your preparations now let me make mine.”
Jeremy knew he couldn’t argue with the person paying for the trip. And he needed her full attention during the climb so he let her carry on and took off his gloves.
Annette reached into her pack and took out something wrapped in plastic wrap, and unfolded it. It was a whitish cream. Using a bunch of feather tufts bound with leather string, she dipped the hand-made brush into the cream, it was gooey.
She dabbed it on his palms and her own, saying “Let us climb with ease like the lizard, fast and sure.”
The tour guide felt a warmness from the stinky goo and made to wipe it off on his pants.
“NO!” she warned. “Put your hands together and rub it in, like this” Annette showed him.
It simply smelled something awful. “What is this stuff?” he asked.
“The Great Spirit’s gift to us, lizard and frog slime” she answered.
They reached the black ledge without incident and Jeremy set up their tent for the night, wanting to get this job over with.
Annette rested with her beer and pipe, looking out over the jungle far below, her woods seemed like a freshly mowed lawn compared to this place. She was glad he hadn’t made a campfire, the forest was better without it.
“Pretty cool isn’t it?” Jeremy grabbed a beer and sat down, “makes you want to stay up here forever.”
“Don’t you know how to be quiet?”
He didn’t say another word.
The stars were beyond counting. The forest wasn’t quiet. It was a perfect night. There were growls and such but nothing could frighten Annette, no thing and no one except for Kalara. And the fear she felt of Kalara cut deep into her core. Her thirst for power ran a close race with that fear, she would have whatever it was that empowered Kalara, it was real, and it was different than hers.
The actual fear she’d experienced so long ago didn’t last that long though, it was for only an afternoon when she’d first met Kalara. After that initial meeting Kalara had become a docile and dazed lamb while Annette now struggled with her desire for more power and also wanting to flee from the dangerous woman at the same time. Finally the simple memory of that terrifying day, the haunt in the back of her mind – knowing it had been real – won out and Annette had to distance herself from Kalara. She’d secretly study
her from afar, pulling on the mystical resources of Mother Earth more than ever before. Then, thanks to Jenniffer, Kalara’s secret power was lost to her, but not for much longer now.
Annette fought her fear and recalled that day over a year ago when they first met, trying to find something, anything in the memory that might help her out tomorrow.
It was the last day of her first rain forest trip. The vacation was her first time to get a passport, Todd and Jenniffer could take care of themselves finally and it was high time for her to do something big for herself. She had decided to do some last minute poking around the forest just outside of Manaus. Having said her goodbyes to her old school friend who unfortunately had to go to work, she confirmed her flight’s departure time and mounted her rented dirt bike.
She was glad to soon be leaving the humidity of the Brazilian rain forest behind. It had been the trip of a lifetime, made possible by her friend from the local junior college of years ago. Her tribe was happy for her and promised to look after her animals while she was away for those two weeks. Todd said he’d even pick up her mail and newspaper for her. She could just relax and enjoy herself.
After a few hours of walking around she had managed to find a few useful roots and stones. Up ahead were some eroded boulders at the base of a mountainside; they would be a great spot for lunch and to find some mushrooms.
Making her way through the dense trees, she became aware of a presence.
Pausing to listen, Annette decided to play it safe and be watchful, but not giving in to fearful thoughts. She had grown up in the woods of northeast Oklahoma, the forest didn’t frighten her; it never had.
She recited to herself ‘Animals are more scared of us then we are of them’ she knew it was true. ‘If humans just respect their territories, they’ll leave us alone or run away.’
Annette continued on through the jungle, yet the feeling of something near her increased.
The Cursed Dragon Page 22