The Silver Token

by Alan Marble

  Once again, too, he was aware that he was screaming. Once again, nothing was happening. He was just a helpless human being tumbling through the air high enough for skydiving, but without the benefit of a parachute.

  The last two times he had not changed until he was about to hit the water below, until just at the last minute when he could pull himself back from the brink of disaster. He didn’t have to know how fast he was falling to know that if he waited that long now there would simply not be enough time; he’d hit the water with enough force to shatter every bone in his body.

  The others had told him that it was a natural reaction, that his body would simply know that he must change and die, that it would protect him instinctively. Instinct would not be enough here, and his conscious mind knew it well enough to send him into a panic. Flailing, grasping, he tried to convince himself that he had to do it now, before it was too late.

  Still nothing happened. He whipped by the wispy clouds in a second, tumbling end over end. Third time is the charm, he thought to himself morosely. He supposed he could only escape death by falling so many times.

  Then Jonah remembered the way it felt when he was in control, the way the wind slipped past his body, the way his wings cut right through the air when they needed. He pulled his arms in against his sides, straightened his legs out behind him and allowed himself to dive headfirst through the air, no longer tumbling but becoming a sort of missile driving ever more quickly toward the ground. The wind buffeted his face harder, whistled past his ears all the more angrily, letting him know he was picking up speed, hastening the arrival of impact.

  Somehow, in the middle of all the fury of wind whipping around him, he found a kernel of calm in the center of his being. He closed his eyes tightly, giving himself over to the embrace of gravity, imagining the sight of him plummeting through the atmosphere, how he must have looked from the distance.

  He could see his body lengthening, stretching, a tail whipping out behind him to stabilize his descent. He could see a pair of wings folded tightly to his back, reaching out slightly to cut into the air. He could feel the now familiar plucking sensation behind his shoulders, the little drag that the leathery membranes of his wings created.

  He remembered the way it felt to be in control. He knew the way it felt to be in control. He was in control. Opening his eyes again, confronting the sight of the lake rushing ever nearer, he could feel himself smiling. He was in control.

  Instinctively he knew that to open his wings and try to brake against his fall would be disastrous; they would snap like twigs at this speed, breaking his bones long before he hit the water. Instead he let them stretch out, following the contour of his body and letting the air simply slip over them, and tilted them ever so slightly so that he would start to pull up.

  Though it worked, his descent beginning to shallow, gravity was not so eager to give up its prize. The shift of his direction subjected him to its pull in an odd way, something he vaguely remembered in the form of g-forces, making his limbs feel immensely heavy beneath him. His wings shuddered a bit from the pressure but they held, stretching wider to catch more and more of the air as he plummeted.

  Painfully, slowly, but successfully he leveled his descent. The effort paid off when, several seconds before he would have plunged into the water he was no longer falling but was soaring forward at a terrifying rate, much of his downward motion translated into forward speed. The lake rushed out beneath him much faster than he could have ever dreamed on his motorcycle.

  It was raw speed, pure freedom, absolute exhilaration. He didn’t have to move his wings, only hold them out aloft so he could glide, shooting across the lake with the wind sliding effortlessly over his hide. He felt his heart swell with pride and excitement, the adrenaline rushing through his veins strong enough to make him almost feel dizzy. So he did the only thing that felt appropriate in the situation : he bellowed out an exuberant “Ya-hoo!”

  His cry was answered by a distinctly irritated grumbling in the distance. He could see the black dragon now, flying level with him and some ways ahead but closing fast. Momentum was still on his side, however, and when he saw the dragon belch out another gout of flame all he had to do was lean into a turn and bank sharply to the right. He had too much speed for her to match, and he left her far behind long before the flames could hope to lick at him.

  Jonah felt almost invincible. Taking a cue from the many dogfights that he had seen in movies, he suddenly banked upward, sharply, rising into a tight loop that had him flying upside down for a moment, his senses complaining when the world was all turned upside down. Instinct and inertia guided him through the loop, and as he leveled out he was more than satisfied to see the black dragon gliding in front of him, away from him. He had succeeded in getting behind her.

  The maneuver had cost him some speed, and wind resistance was beginning to take its toll. He found that he had to start flapping his wings again in long, slow beats to keep aloft, but he was still gaining on her. Not knowing how to breathe fire - or if he even could - he opted for the simpler choice of going in to physically grapple at her, turn the tables and send her plummeting into the cold water.

  Seconds before he caught her, however, she banked hard to the left and whipped almost instantly out of view. Startled, he tried to follow, but realized that he was not, after all, as agile or as experienced as he thought. Lumbering through the turn, he realized he’d lost sight of her.

  Thrown off guard, Jonah glanced wildly to his left and then to his right, but could find no sign of the black dragon. Her bellow echoed in his ears again, nearby, but the wind whipping around him left him unable to track the sound. Craning his neck to look behind him he still saw nothing, save for the shape of Carolus hovering some ways in the distance. She bellowed again, and he suddenly remembered to look up.

  The attack, however, came from below. Coming up at a sharp angle she barreled right into his chest with enough force to knock the wind right out of him and send him tumbling once more. Caught off guard as he was he could not retaliate at all, and could only watch as her sleek shape slipped through the air and away from him, probably circling back around to deliver another blow.

  It was hard enough for him to stay aloft, let alone try and counter what he thought would be her next move. After wheeling through the air with his limbs thrashing Jonah managed to stabilize himself, pumping his wings mightily in spite of the shortness of breath that he now felt, trying to gain some altitude and speed. The sun had already slipped behind the mountains in the distance and the sky was darkening, giving her some advantage as her black form started blending in. Still he could see her behind him, and still he had a chance.

  Ahead, he could see the shore of the lake coming up fast, the pine trees rising up abruptly just beyond. Deciding to try a slightly different tactic, he dropped himself to a level that he hoped was just above the treetops, urging his wings on a little quicker, wanting to reach the shore before she caught up to him. He could hear the surge of her own wings growing ever closer; he had to stay out of range of that fire.

  Jonah was not quite sure he was high enough above the trees, and felt himself cringing as the lake below gave way to the earth. A second later he was at the treeline, close enough that the treetops were forced to bend and sway mightily beneath the force of the wind coming off his wings, but he had calculated right. He had just missed them.

  Making a hard turn to the left, he struggled to keep the altitude he needed. Flying so close to the treetops put a significant limit to how much he could maneuver, but he knew that she would be suffering from the same handicap. He might not be able to pull away from her, but at least he could maintain his distance.

  An angry bellow behind him seemed to confirm his thinking, and he couldn't help but to grin. The trees would also serve as a deterrent to more balls of fire; surely she would not want to start the forest alight.

  It worked, for a time. Jonah could make out the shape of Carolus off in the distance, observing, but the big
dragon was too far away for him to read an expression. He could hear the black dragon close, as well, too close for comfort but he still kept the lead. It would only work for so long, however, as there was only so much room for flying around above the trees.

  Abruptly his path took him right over the mansion where they had been staying, but he only caught the quickest little glimpse of it. Without intending to, he had come full circle. To his dismay, just beyond was a rather large meadow, one that would take him several seconds to cross. One that would give his pursuer several seconds to maneuver, or worse.

  To make matters worse yet, his lungs were beginning to burn for lack of air. He knew they were already at a high altitude, the air here much thinner than what he was used to, and he was already exerting himself to the limit and beyond. His heart was thumping angrily in his chest, and he knew he was growing exhausted. He’d have to think of something soon.

  Jonah passed over the meadow before he had a chance to come up with a plan. Almost instantly the black dragon behind him made her move, a sudden and rapid surge of energy pushing her wings faster than he thought possible, and she started to arc right around, coming fast at his side.

  He tried to turn out of her way and failed. Already exhausted, his wings simply would not comply in time. He faltered in the air, and a second later she crashed right into him in a flurry of wings and talons and claws. Jonah was flipped on to his back a second before crashing into the ground with enough force to knock the breath from him anew.

  The black dragon pinned him to the ground, flashing her teeth at him in a snarl, but the effort was not really necessary. He lacked the energy to fight back, and merely collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air.

  “You have done admirably, child,” Carolus intoned a moment later, settling himself down at the edge of the clearing with a surprising amount of grace for a creature so large. “Better than I would have thought you capable of in such a short amount of time. Please, stand.”

  The dragon atop him had released him already, stepping back and away so that Jonah was left to clamber to his feet on his own. His joints ached mightily at the crash, his muscles burned and complained with the effort, but he managed to get himself standing mostly upright. “Then that’s it?”

  “For now,” the big dragon said with a low rumble, turning to look back in the direction of the mansion just beyond the treeline. “It has already grown late, and I can’t afford to have you flying about in the dark just yet. There will be time for that later, when you are ready; I’d rather not have you killed in a mock battle.”

  “Then you could tell her not to try and fry me next time,” he spat out a little more upset than he meant to.

  A familiar voice behind him startled him, and when he whipped his head around he was surprised to see Rebekah standing where the black dragon had been moments before. “I can go easy on you next time, if you like.”

  Jonah felt his jaw go slack at the sight. “It was you, all along?”

  She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Carolus asked me to take care of you for this training. I guess my job isn’t quite done, after all.”

  He didn’t know why he was so caught off guard by the fact. He had expected that his opponent was the woman Jenna who had shown some hostility to him before, from what Carolus had mentioned just before the training began. Inwardly he wondered what the old man had meant when he used the words in spite of what she thinks of you. “You could have killed me.”

  “But I didn’t,” she answered with another shrug. “Like I said, next time I can go easier on you if it makes you feel better.”

  “No,” he fumed, feeling his wings flutter a bit behind him in irritation. “I just … didn’t expect that you’d … and how do you do that? You’re a human, again.”

  “I’ll tell you in a minute, but there’s something I want you to see, first.”

  Scowling, frowning, he craned his head back to get a look at Carolus, who only nodded patiently. “What is it?”

  Rebekah just smiled slightly. “Actually, meet me back on the deck,” she called out over her shoulder as she darted off between the trees and disappeared.

  “Come, child,” the old man growled before lifting himself up off the ground, the wind kicking up dirt and debris around Jonah’s head before he followed suit. It was not far to the mansion and the deck behind it, fortunately lit, but even that short flight left him feeling achy and exhausted.

  He tumbled to the wood a little unsteadily, falling flat on his underbelly instead of landing gracefully the way Carolus did. “Perhaps tomorrow, you will practice landing,” the big dragon said with something of a smirk.

  Before he could respond, Rebekah stepped out onto the deck, carrying a fairly large rectangular object. “Jonah. Over here. Take a look.”

  Scowling, he turned to look at the object she had as she held it out for him to see. It was a portrait of a dragon, an off white color and decked with irregular, rust colored stripes. The painting seemed incredibly lifelike and detailed, the way the bright blue eyes in the picture seemed to sparkle at him, almost staring right back at him. The dragon did not look otherwise remarkable, a set of wings folded neatly on its back, a pair of ebony colored horns sprouting out from the back of its head, with a set of smaller ones jutting out from behind its jaw. Slender, unlike the older dragon, but somewhat bulkier than Rebekah.

  He was about to ask her what the point was when he saw the image of Carolus moving in the background of the portrait. Except that it was no portrait - it was a mirror.

  He was looking at himself.

  Jonah reacted by drawing in a sharp, startled breath, backing away from the mirror with some haste, as if it had just bitten him. Rebekah seemed to have some pity on him, lowering the mirror so it no longer held his reflection, but she smiled all the same. “See. Told you that you were a pretty good looking dragon,” she said, before she turned on her heel and headed back toward the doors.

  “Wait,” he croaked hoarsely, his throat feeling dry. “How’d you do it … become human again …”

  “Think about it, Jonah. How’d you become a dragon? Works the same way,” she called out without turning to look at him, disappearing into the house.

  It really hadn’t been hard when he figured it out at last, and wondered if it could be so easy. Closing his eyes, he imagined the way he looked … was supposed to look. No wings, no talons, no claws. Just skin and hair.

  When he opened his eyes again he was surprised to find himself on all fours but quite human once again. Feeling absurd, he quickly pushed himself up to his feet and turned around.

  Carolus was standing there, the old man looking human once again, nodding in his direction. “Very good, Jonah. You may take the rest of the night to relax. Have a good dinner, get to bed early. Tomorrow will be more training.”

  “Of course,” he responded with a mutter, reaching back to rub his neck. His muscles were still sore and achy.

  “There are still several things I wish to speak to you about,” the old man paused, reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Tomorrow, or the next day, perhaps. When there is more time. But since you seemed eager to learn how to reassume your human form, there is one thing I must tell you now before I forget.”

  Jonah found himself frowning slightly. “What’s that?”

  “When you take on human form, you are human for all intents and purposes. With all of the same frailties and weaknesses that it comes with. A fire that merely singes you as a dragon might incinerate you as a man.”

  “Wait,” he protested. “I remember Rebekah getting thrown into a car. That bull drake got shot in the chest, and they both seemed ok.”

  Carolus breathed a little sigh at that and nodded. “All right, let me rephrase. Some of the strengths and protections that you enjoy as a dragon you will still enjoy. Long life, excellent health, strength and resistance to being wounded. But it is not the same. You are still much more fragile, much more … mortal, in human form. Take care that you do not
forget this.”

  The warning seemed a little oddly timed, and he could not help but to continue frowning. “Why do you mention it, now?”

  Carolus smiled crookedly. “Just seemed like something you ought to know. Now, go along and rest. Tomorrow will be another big day.”

  As he watched the old man make his way to the door and disappear inside, Jonah grumbled again. It was the kind of statement that he was getting used to hearing, and one that he would rather not keep hearing. One big day after another; one life altering event right on the heels of the last. What he would not give for a day that did nothing other than leave him bored to death.

  The rumbling in his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in hours. Tomorrow, for whatever it might hold, would have to wait. The faint smell of food wafting out the doors brought him back to the moment, and Jonah just shook his head as he followed the old man back inside.

  FOURTEEN

  Dinner had largely been uneventful. Jonah had been led to a large dinng room where food had been laid out on a large table, a veritable banquet that had set his mouth to slavering. He'd almost have thought it an early Thanksgiving based on the spread, but he had to remind himself that there were several other adults there who were likely just as hungry as he was.

  He had hardly spoken to the others for the entire meal. The others came and went at their own leisure and seemed content to let him occupy a quiet seat at one end of the table, removed from the quiet conversation that he mostly ignored. He hadn't seen Abe the entire time, and Carolus had excused himself not long afterward. He recognized Jenna, the woman with the dark hair and the hawkish gaze that he tried to avoid. Though she did not openly confront him and seemed to mostly ignore him, as well, he could not help but to imagine she was sneering at him. It made him uncomfortable.

  Briefly, he had been introduced to the two others who had been at the Convocation, the ones who had not spoken during the meeting. First Ryan, every bit as bald as Abe but lacking the man's imposing stature, who had friendly if somewhat tired looking features, and then Flor, a veritable waif of a woman with flowing black hair and almond shaped eyes that gave her a subtly exotic look. Both had been warm and friendly with him, but Jonah had not been much in the mood for conversation, and they had both excused themselves before long.