Tamara raced to the other side of the clearing, an unpleasant thought shadowing her. Could this green have been trapped somewhere? Considering her ravenous hunger, it must have been for a long while. Her sympathy stretched toward the dragon, for she wouldn’t wish being imprisoned on anyone.
Cracking branches and the sounds of a struggle led her toward the woods.
Skye had captured her elk, too. It wasn’t dead. It struggled, bleeding and thrashing about on the ground. A couple of crossbow bolts stuck out of its right side.
Skye stood beside her prize, crying as she tried to wind the crossbow up for another shot.
Tamara hurried to help her niece.
Snapping trunks warned of the green’s approach. With one bite, she put the terrified elk out of its misery.
Tamara glanced up with vengeance in her heart that she’d chosen to help the dragon over her niece. You’d better be satisfied now.
The dragon licked her jaws, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
Tamara’s stomach churned, but in fear this time. She had allowed that animal to control her. She hadn’t resisted her pull. In fact, the urge to oppose hadn’t even occurred.
“It’s over,” she whispered, pulling Skye into a tight hug. The girl was shivering.
THANK YOU! The words resonated along with an intense sense of gratitude.
Tamara instinctively closed her thoughts and backed away, frightened by this beast’s ability to overwhelm her with its thoughts and emotions. Her needs had not mattered; Skye’s needs had been eclipsed; only the dragon’s intense hunger had driven her actions.
HUNGRY LONG TIME, came a mournful thought.
Tamara gave a glare over her shoulder. How did the dragon do that? Read her as easily as Jarrod seemed to. At least he mostly pretended he couldn’t do it. He never ordered her about. Only soothed her when she was troubled.
Meanwhile, she’d blindly followed the dragon’s commands as if she possessed no self-will. The realization took her to the first moment she found herself trapped within the time spell. Unable to move, her mind screaming at her to flee, but her body under the complete control of her mother’s spell.
She had sworn to never allow anyone to do that to her again. This dragon would not rule her now. Mentally, she slammed shut imaginary gates until she could no longer sense the beast’s feelings.
It had already forced her to kill. Worse, she’d encouraged Skye to attempt the same. Look at the result!
Skye, who loved all animals, would never be the same after this experience.
Jarrod, weak and hurt, she’d left him in the uncertain care of Thyel, of all people. She’d sensed animosity between the two men.
Fane, following this dragon around like a lovesick fool, wasn’t there to ensure Thyel treated Jarrod well.
“I have to check on Jarrod,” she said to Skye.
Her niece nodded and together, they raced back to the men. They arrived to discover an unconscious Jarrod. His arm was strapped to a sturdy piece of wood with bandages made from strips of Jarrod’s torn robe.
Thyel looked up from his work. “You were successful?”
Tamara nodded, releasing Skye to kneel by Jarrod’s side. His arm looked as if it was set correctly. She breathed a sigh of relief.
Skye walked away a few paces to lean against a trunk, holding her stomach.
At Thyel’s inquiring look, Tamara murmured, “She needs a little quiet. Will Jarrod be all right?”
“Yes. He lost consciousness when I set the bone. I made a paste from some herbs I recognized nearby to speed up the healing.” Thyel turned to Fane, who had approached in the wake of the women. “Any luck talking to the dragon?”
The young lad shook his head. He turned to Tamara. “She seemed to be able to communicate with you though.”
She almost screamed out, Yes, I hear her! But then she recalled Fane’s earlier conversation about how only a “natural” bond could aid travel between realms. He’d said his ability to mind-touch with the bronze dragon from last night without the benefit of a bonding ceremony indicated a “natural” bond was possible. If so, that same logic applied to the green’s ability to speak to Tamara. To control her actions.
At the idea of giving up her control to that dragon again, an iron fist clamped onto throat and strangled her words.
“Tamara?” Thyel looked at her with astonished eyes. “Could you really hear that dragon’s thoughts?”
“No!” she croaked out. Unable to look at him or Fane, she focused on Jarrod. Gently, she touched his face. He was hot and feverish. Could he die if they didn’t get off Isa?
With a touch, her sister Anna could easily heal him.
On Ryca.
A tear slid down Tamara’s cheek as she realized what she must do to save Jarrod. Her lips quivered in protest.
Skye’s hand came to rest on Tamara’s shoulder. “Our best bet is for Fane to find and bond with the one from last night. He seemed to sense its thoughts so he’s the dragon most likely to fly us out of this world.”
A huge weight rolled off Tamara’s shoulders. Unable to help herself, she rose and hugged her niece. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
Skye hesitated, as if shocked at Tamara’s rare show of affection. Then she fiercely hugged her back.
“You two must have satisfied the green’s hunger,” Thyel said, “else she wouldn’t be here looking at us so placidly.”
Tamara broke away to turn to where he pointed. The green dragon sat hunched not ten feet away, watching them. No, not them, her.
“What does she want now?” Skye asked in an angry tone, unconsciously mimicking Tamara’s turbulent feelings.
“I don’t think she’s hungry anymore.” Fane walked up and tentatively extended his hand toward the green. The dragon pulled back, a haughty eye ridge rising. Once she weighed and judged the young man worthy, she lowered her snout until it brushed Fane’s palm.
“She likes you,” Thyel said with a note of envy. He, too, approached. The dragon retreated and stayed back. With a disappointed frown, he returned to their side. “What’s our next move then?”
“I must find the bronze,” Fane replied.
The green roared. The sound reverberated in Tamara’s body with a sense of urgency and fear.
“I’m not killing anything else for her,” Skye said. “She can hunt for her own food from now on.”
Tamara, too, refused to heed the call, though she sensed hunger was no longer the problem.
The dragon’s long tail swished and her ears flattened.
Tamara ignored those clear signs of the green’s displeasure, deciding that if this dragon needed to communicate with them, she could talk to Fane.
Yet, questions continued to prod. Why had the green been so hungry? Who could keep a dragon trapped for so long? And why?
She groaned, not wanting to think about the dragon’s problem. Yet, if the green feared something, her presence could draw that problem straight to them. Jarrod was in no shape to face any more disturbances. They needed to know what to prepare for next. To safeguard Jarrod.
Tamara slid her mental gate open a sliver. Enough to voice one question. What’s wrong?
DANGER. MUST HIDE!
Great! She slammed closed her mental gates. If the green insisted on staying with them, they were all in trouble.
She frowned at the dragon. In the corner of her eyes, something slithered away into the branches of a nearby tree. A wisp of olive-colored fluff that winked in the wind, as if something small and swift hid in the tree’s thick canopy. “What was that?”
Everyone looked over, including the dragon.
“Where?” Thyel asked.
Tamara walked over but could see nothing in the tree to account for the movement she’d seen.
“I don’t see anything,” Skye said from beside here. “What did you see?”
“Something green and fluffy.”
“It might have been wind flicking leaves,” Fane said.
“Tha
t dragon’s making me jittery too,” Skye added.
Tamara cringed at the sympathy in her niece’s eyes and turned away. “Yes, that’s probably it.”
A glance at the green and the dragon’s urgency to hide immediately returned. How to convince her group to move? Then her glance fell on Jarrod’s resting form.
“We need to find shelter,” she said. “A place where Jarod can heal while we help Fane hunt for his bronze dragon.”
“Yes,” Fane said. “Dragging a wounded man around would do him no good and slow us down.”
“Skye, would you be able to locate a safe place for us to set up a camp?” Tamara asked.
Her niece nodded and held up her hand. A ball of Light formed.
HIDE ME! The dragon’s plea was swift.
Tamara started. How had the dragon broken through her mental barriers? Still, the request resonated with such terror, Tamara clutched at Skye’s arm before her niece released her Light.
“Make it a big place.” She glared at the dragon over her shoulder for yet again taking mental liberties without permission. “One large enough to hold the green, in case she remains as friendly as this.”
Skye smiled for the first time since the elk incident and the rigid knots of tension in Tamara’s tense shoulders loosened.
“Skye,” Fane looked at her hopefully, “could you locate my dragon with one of your Light balls?”
“Probably. Once we settle Jarrod, we can search together.” She set her search Light aloft. The green dragon blew on it, sending the Light flying to the side. Skye laughed. With a whirl of her forefinger and a chant, she directed the Light ball to find a safe place to stay.
It bobbed and rose high up into the air. Then the Light twirled rapidly, as if in impatience.
Skye looked at the dragon speculatively. “It would be faster to follow my Light through the air than us walking. Easier on Jarrod, too. Do you think she might let us ride her?”
“Fane,” Thyel said, “you’re the dragon expert. See if you can convince the green to take us.”
Fane looked at the dragon and formally made the request.
The dragon stared back with a blank look.
He tried hand gestures. Finally, he shrugged and turned to them. “I can’t seem to make her understand.”
Tamara sighed. She didn’t want to further her relationship with this dragon. Jarrod’s pallor beneath his dark skin suggested Skye was right, though. Carrying him would do more harm than good. The ride on the dragon would be easier, marginally, than bouncing him along their every step.
Her back still turned to the dragon, she lowered her barriers and made her request.
Would you please carry us to safety? To a place to hide?
HALLA!
Tamara cringed as the word slammed into her mind. It was the green’s name.
“Are you all right?” Skye asked.
“Yes.” Tamara rubbed at her temple. “Just a little headache.”
HALLA!
“I know,” Tamara shouted.
“Know what?” Thyel asked.
Tamara blushed at his confused look. “Sorry, I meant I know what we could try. If one of us climbs up on her, she might understand.”
Thyel gave a nod. “Fane, you try. She likes you.”
Halla, Tamara watched Fane approach the dragon, would you let us ride you?
TAMARA!
The name flashed to her in triumph, as if the dragon was proud to have plundered that bit of information.
She disliked this game. Yes, that’s my name. Will you take us to where Skye’s Light ball leads?
FLY, TAMARA, AND FRIENDS.
The dragon knelt, giving Fane easier access to her bent forelimb.
“She’s going to let us ride her,” Fane said in excitement. “I’ll go first and then you can hand Jarrod up.”
“We can use my Light to lead her to where we want to go,” Skye added. “She seems to like to play with it.”
Tamara bent to help Thyel pick up Jarrod.
“Be careful,” Thyel warned. “Else I’ll have to reset that arm and I don’t think the Erovian will thank me for it.”
He took Jarrod’s upper body while Tamara lifted his legs. Jarrod, barely conscious, made it difficult for Thyel to climb up and still hold onto his patient, and the greater weight of their burden fell on Tamara.
Jarrod awoke with a scream.
Tamara’s legs turned to mush at the pain in his voice. Thankfully, he again lost consciousness.
The dragon sent a profound wave of sympathy toward Tamara and a boost of strength straightened her legs. She was able to lift Jarrod back up. She’d taken no more than two steps when Halla’s snout gave her bottom a gentle push up.
They made it to the top and Tamara sat cradling Jarrod’s head against her shoulder, cushioning him as much as she could. She felt proud to be able to help the normally self-sufficient Jarrod. Gently stroking his cheek, she sent a silent, Thank You, to Halla.
WELCOME! the green replied sounding happy that Tamara seemed happy.
Tamara waited for everyone to settle down around her. Now she thought of it, she had been so careful to push her family away, afraid they would try to control her behavior, she couldn’t recall anyone ever asking for her help. Except for Skye, and Bevan.
She had let both of them down.
FIND BEVAN?
The question startled Tamara. Then her guilt at not using this dragon to find her nephew, at wanting to wait for Fane to bond with another, seared her flesh.
“Are we ready?” Skye asked from in front of her.
“Yes,” Thyel replied from behind.
Not yet, Tamara said to the dragon. Later. If Fane’s quest to find his bronze dragon proved useless, she would have no choice but to confess to this special relationship evolving between her and green.
WHEN? Halla asked.
Tamara studiously shut her mind to the continued mental intrusion. Perhaps she should post a sign that said, “Do not enter! Private Property.”
A narrow-eyed backward glare was her reward for that ungracious thought.
Skye brought her Light around and thankfully distracted the disgruntled green. The dragon rose into the air, her flapping wings creating an air current as she raised them higher than the surrounding canopy of the trees.
Tamara’s stomach sank. She instinctively clamped her legs tight around the dragon’s side and held tight to Jarrod. If she tipped, it would take them both over the side. She didn’t like this sensation of being off the ground, unbalanced and out of control.
Thyel’s arm wrapped around her middle. “I’ve got you,” he whispered in her ear.
The thought comforted her.
Jarrod leaned into her shoulder, bringing with him the uniquely enticing blend of velum, ink and Jarrod. The aromas made her smile and hold him tighter, laying her cheek against his hot forehead.
Fane, who sat behind Skye, leaned around her, looking in every direction.
At Skye’s bidding, her ball of Light flew a few feet in front of Halla. The green slashed at it with her foreleg. The Light leaped forward and whizzed away. With a challenging bellow, Halla followed, tilting dangerously.
Tamara slid to the right, the weight of Jarrod adding to the fall. Steady!
Thyel’s hold became a vice grip, preventing any of them falling off.
The dragon straightened, and gave a sheepish look over her shoulder, before resuming her chase of Skye’s Light ball.
The flight took them over a verdant forest, an open grass plain and then past black sharp-tipped mountains. As they rose higher to crest the range, the air became cooler. Tamara was glad of Thyel’s hold and his warmth that shielded her back from the bite of the cool wind.
“We’re almost there,” Skye shouted. “There’s a cave below.” She pointed to a dark peak, not as tall as those that towered around it, but still higher than any mountain Tamara had ever climbed.
The Light ball swooped downward and Halla followed.
; Tamara searched for the entrance among the black rocks and jagged peaks, but could see no opening. They flew lower where bushes and grasses covered shelves and dips. Still, they descended to where the mountain face was bounded by scraggly pine trees clawing up the cliff side.
The ball then disappeared into the trees.
The dragon hovered midair and then with a bellow of triumph, swooped into the trees.
Tamara covered Jarrod with her body before a branch knocked them both off.
Her companions shouted in alarm.
Having apparently seen where the Light went, Halla was determined on the chase. She ignored all calls for caution and dove for the barrier of brush. She landed in a skid onto a well-concealed ledge. Before anyone could dismount, Halla took off at a sprint into the opening.
Tamara’s legs clamped down on the dragon until they finally came to a halt inside a larger inner cave.
Tamara instructed Halla to let them descend.
The green obligingly settled down on the ground.
Bringing Jarrod down safely was as painful and difficult as taking him up. Jarrod, unfortunately, came awake half way through their progress. Tamara was impressed by the colorful language streaming out of the normally composed and unflappable Chief Councilor of Erov.
Recording the history of Ryca must have taught him how to curse in several Rycan dialects. The more she discovered about Jarrod, little hints to his past and his character quirks, the more endearing he seemed. She had to smile at the irony of being attracted to a scholarly man who found her anything but studious.
“None of this is amusing, Tamara,” Jarrod muttered in a curt tone.
She did her best to wipe her smile off her face.
Jarrod might disagree, but travelling by air had been the best plan. It would have taken days to get here otherwise. Next to impossible coming this high up a mountain. Halla had flown them over here in less than the time it would have taken to plan their route out. Once Jarrod was rested and his arm began to heal, he would forgive his friends for putting him through this traumatic ride.
Thyel was checking on Jarrod’s arm. She had thought the two men disliked one another. Yet, Thyel had done a creditable job of binding Jarrod’s broken arm and now showed inordinate care for his patient.
Hushed, Tales of Ryca, Book 2 Page 13