She’d never told him the earth had done more than simply create a person but had infused her with a purpose, one she’d slowly been growing into for all these years. That was the real stumbling block. Once she claimed that birthright, her life would change. She couldn’t love him and let him love her without telling him the truth. Once she did that, there was a good chance he wouldn’t love her anymore. After all, he’d spent years getting to know part of her, not all of her.
The usually comforting hum of the earth had shifted, as if there was a note of dissonance. Shasta pulled her hand away, sighed, opened her eyes, and looked up. Hardly more than a month ago it would’ve been getting dark. Now, while the tree cast a long shadow across her, there was still more than an hour of light left. The sky was a bright blue with only the occasional fluffy white cloud. The breeze darted through the air, making the new leaves rustle.
The problem wasn’t Cord. It was her. She didn’t want to lose him, but she didn’t want to tell him the truth either. Then there was the added complication of loving her work partner. The decision to work in the family business, solving magical problems, potentially risking her own life, was one she’d made her peace with long ago. But how could she risk a mature relationship with Cord, knowing her job could put his life in jeopardy if that was what a case required? How could she justify risking the life of her lover?
If they stayed partners, continued the personal relationship, and fell in love with one another, that would be exactly what one of them had to do at some point. There was no way around it because that was the job. They were hired to fix problems that other people couldn’t. While working with dragons didn’t have any overt risk to their lives, there were still dangers. Dragons napped on their roof, fire blasted through the air unexpectedly, and there was a constant risk of being squished. However, as jobs went, this was as safe as it got.
In the distance, a dragon glided in circles high up in the air, little more than a moving green speck to Shasta’s eyes. It had to be wonderful to have wings strong enough to carry you away from all the doubts, fears, and worries. The green dragon turned and headed south, the direction of town. A midnight-blue dragon pulled alongside the green one. Of course, where one creature with wings could go, so could others.
Even here there was no easy escape. There were no easy answers.
Shasta sat up, soaking in the view. Perhaps she could tell Cord she needed time. He would argue that it had been months, which was fair. It was also fair for her to tell him that she needed more time. She couldn’t talk about it because she didn’t have the words, at least not the important ones. Which sounded grand, but one day soon she would have to be brave enough to actually tell him the truth. One day, but not today.
Leaning forward, she ran her hands through the soft grass. Her fingers brushed the soil, and the earth’s hum vibrated up her arm. As before, there was discord between notes that were usually harmonious. Shasta dug her fingers farther into the dirt. She evened out her breathing, blocking out everything but the rhythm from below. There was the usual rise and fall, almost as if the earth were breathing. Overlaying those notes were the more excitable tunes of the life cycles of the land and creatures, though the long-lived nature of the dragons had mellowed the song. However, all those were supposed to be there.
She kept herself open to the earth. Rather than the peace she expected, she found a sense of unease. Then another one of the sour tones reverberated up her arm. Somewhere someone was manipulating energy in a way that went against nature’s patterns. From this distance there was no way for Shasta to pinpoint where that person was or even what they were doing. It could’ve been as simple as a group of witches casting a powerful spell the earth didn’t like. Shasta had gotten similar sensations in the earth when protections were laid in building foundations or when witches resculpted the landscape. Most witches were perfectly nice people, drawing on the powers they’d been born with, but they didn’t live in harmony with the land the same way an elf did.
There was also the chance that someone had decided they wanted to be able to use magic and had resorted to channeling the energy of death. That wasn’t likely. Sorcerers were rare enough, and there were even fewer of them that resorted to sacrifice and blood magic. It’d been years since Shasta had heard reports of a sorcerer.
Now that she had a better idea of what she was feeling, she sent a gentle query to the earth. What ails you?
The earth replied with a surge of unease.
If the earth knew what was wrong, it was not willing or able to tell her. Can I help?
This time the earth didn’t reply, likely because it was unsure how to interpret the question. Shasta lifted her hands out of the dirt, brushed them off, and gave the ground what she hoped was a reassuring pat.
She stood up, slung the canteen over her shoulder, pulled the dinner roll out of her pocket, and started exploring. She took a bite of the roll as she surveyed the area. The slender pine tree she’d been resting under wasn’t the only tree, but the others were a fair distance away in a bit of a scraggly clump. From here it looked as though someone had planted them as a windbreak many years ago. Now there were gaps where the old trees had died and the original line had expanded with increasingly younger, shorter trees farther from the centerline. Past the stand of trees were more of the rolling hills that stretched in every other direction.
Shasta took another bite of her dinner roll and walked around to the other side of the tree. The green and blue dragons were gliding toward town, likely to get dinner. That was normal enough. In fact, she didn’t see any overly interesting land features or signs of anything that would be causing the earth distress. She paced around, taking a hard look in every direction, but found herself facing the patch of trees again. That was the only place of any real cover for miles.
She popped the last of the dinner roll in her mouth, chewing it as she considered. She checked the position of the sun, which was still well above the horizon. It was probably a half-mile walk to the tree line. If she hurried, she had enough time to tromp over there, look around, and get back here for Glimmer to pick her up before the sun went down. Shasta took a drink from her canteen, settled the strap across her body, and started walking.
As walks went, it was lovely. The slope down was not overly steep, the ground was free of holes or shale, plus the sun and the breeze were delightful. If she hadn’t been searching for reasons why the earth was unsettled, it would’ve been perfect.
She slowed down as she drew close to the line of trees, though that was something of a misnomer. Whoever had planted them was long gone, and many years had gone by since any maintenance had been done. The result was an uneven thicket of trees with bushes, the decaying remains of fallen trees, and all manner of things that wanted a little bit of shade or shelter tucked up under them. While she didn’t see any obvious signs of habitation, there was enough undergrowth that any number of things could’ve been making it their home.
Shasta walked parallel to the strip of trees for the full length, circled the end, and started up the far side. She kept her footsteps light, moving with the earth to avoid the sounds most people made when walking. She kept glancing into the trees, but so far everything appeared normal. Under the pine trees was an assortment of smaller pines, scrubby bush things that arrived with a slight shade, squirrels, groundhogs, and a wide variety of birds.
The earth’s feelings of discontent and Shasta’s suspicions of an unwelcome resident were beginning to feel like wild fantasies she’d concocted to give herself something to think about other than her relationship with Cord. That was what she got for asking to be dropped off in the wilderness for some reflection.
The abnormal angle of a fallen tree caught her eye. She stopped. From here it looked as if long ago a tree had fallen and been propped up on something else, making it sit a good six feet above the ground. Now a mat of vines was running from the ground to whatever remained of the fallen tree. While vines certainly grew from the ground to trees, she di
dn’t know of any that formed such an even surface, more or less creating a shelter.
Shasta started working her way through the underbrush, careful to avoid stepping on twigs. Since there was no apparent way into the shelter from the side, she started moving around it in an arc, intending to approach from the front. Every few seconds, she paused and scanned the area. The pine trees looked perfectly normal, not sporting any blinds or other hiding spots that would allow someone to attack her from above. In fact, all signs pointed to her being alone. The birds were still chirping, and she could hear small creatures going about their business on the forest floor.
She carefully stepped over the rotting remains of the tree trunk and was finally able to turn herself back in the direction of the shelter. It took her three more steps to work her way around a seven-foot-tall pine tree, and then she had her first clear view of the front of the shelter. She knelt down, wanting to have ample time to study the structure.
On the ground to the right of the shelter were the remains of a sizable tree, but the actual beam holding up the vines was a tree trunk about six inches in diameter and carefully stripped of bark. While bark would fall off dead trees, it was unlikely to have left the entire tree so evenly. More to the point, she could see that the underside of the mat had actually been woven. On the side where they got the most light, the vines had grown into one another, but from here it was still possible to discern the pattern. Someone had built the shelter, and it hadn’t been a dragon.
A few branches had fallen against the front of the lean-to, giving it an air of disuse. What growth there was in the former clearing in front was low to the ground and young. Judging from the height of the small pine trees that populated the area, no one had cleared the space of undergrowth in nearly a year.
Shasta crept closer, still unable to see into the dark depths of the shelter. She kept not only an eye on her target but on the area around her. However, there was no sign that there was anything but her creeping through these woods. Finally she reached the edge of the cleared area and could see all the way to the back of the shelter. It was empty.
Feeling silly for having wasted the effort on stealth, Shasta stood up and started a careful examination of the area. Not only had small pine trees claimed the ground but there was a fair assortment of deadfall, pinecones, pine needles, and general forest refuse littering the area. Up close, the shelter was no different than what she’d seen from a distance, though it was a bit larger. Two or even three people could easily sleep inside, far enough back that there was little chance rain would get blown in on them. Whatever use it’d served in the past, it was now home to twigs and pine needles the wind had blown in, and a bird family nested in the corner where there was a gap between the main beam and the big stump it rested upon. The stump, while slowly decaying, was still sturdy enough for its current job.
Kneeling, she set her fingers against the earth. The note of discord was still there but had faded. Likely whatever the cause was far away and unrelated to the shelter. There were plenty of explanations for this structure, like brownies using it as a campsite. She stood up, brushing off her fingers. For all her dramatic theories, the area looked harmless, if odd.
Shaking her head at her own folly, Shasta turned to leave. A bit of ivory, a color that didn’t belong in this area, caught her eye. She paused, turned her head, and spotted the patch of ivory in the brush beside the shelter. She walked over, pushed a hip-high pine tree out of the way, and stopped.
Her eyes trailed across the ground, finding first one bone and then several. Some parts of the skeleton were missing, but what remained gave the distinct impression of a tail, forelimbs, a long neck, and a rather dragon-like skull. The remains were small. If it had been a dragon, it couldn’t have been more than a few years old.
She knelt down and held a hand over the bones. She opened herself up, trying to feel what they had. Pain. Terror. Death. The sensations hit her one after another, not giving her a moment to recover. She snatched her hand back, breaking the connection enough that she managed to slam her shields shut, blocking out the emotions. This creature had died a painful and terrifying death.
She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to steady herself. The emotions emanating from the bones had been strong enough that she had felt the adrenaline rushing through the creature’s body, urging it to run away. When she was finally back to being Shasta, she opened her eyes and studied the skeleton. It was rather hard to say for sure if it was actually a dragon skeleton. When dragons were this small, there were a lot of other creatures that had very similar skeletal structures, like a variety of canines and felines. The tail was short, which would be normal for a small dragon. The legs were proportional to the overall skeletal size, which only ruled out some of the long-limbed dogs as potential origins for the skeleton. The vertebrae lacked the prominent spinal ridges, but since not every dragon had those ridges, that was far from a definitive clue. The skull, however, was partly crushed and could’ve come from any number of long-nosed creatures.
All in all, she couldn’t decide if it was or wasn’t a dragon. However, Cord was better at making such determinations, and being a full elf might be able to get more than emotions from the skeleton.
A shadow fell across the clearing as a bird passed overhead. Shasta sighed. Glimmer had specifically requested not to fly at night, and the daylight was beginning to fade.
“I’ll come back. I’ll do my best to find out what you are and bring you peace.” Shasta stood up, and with one last look back at the bones, she headed through the thicket and to the tree where Glimmer had dropped her off.
The return trip went faster because she wasn’t trying to sneak through the woods. Her foot slipped a little on the slope, and she caught herself with one hand against the ground. The earth flowed up her arm. The sour note was still there, but it was fainter. Hopefully, the cause was truly distant and being dealt with. However, that didn’t solve the problem of the skeleton.
Since dragons recovered their dead and had a ritual for them, it would be important to them to recover the remains and honor the deceased if it was one of their own. While she could mention the skeleton to Glimmer or any other dragon and they would examine it, Shasta wanted to be sure what it was before she brought it up. They trusted her and Cord. She wanted to honor that trust, and part of that was doing her best to ensure what she told them was the truth. Right now she didn’t know if it was a dragon. She simply knew that whatever it was had died an unpleasant death.
She crested the hill and took a moment to regain her breath. If she explained the problem to Cord, he’d respect what they were doing and not use the time to ask her about memories she desperately wanted to leave alone. His tendency of inquiring about that one night aside, he was a good partner and he had experience from his days as a police officer that could be of use. While he didn’t speak of it much, this wouldn’t be the first skeleton he’d seen. Plus he’d had several classes on identifying different types of remains. That hadn’t featured as prominently in the training she’d gotten since employees of Oaks Consulting weren’t usually first responders.
A shape separated itself from the horizon, flying toward her purposefully. In the low light, she couldn’t tell if it was Glimmer, but Shasta started jogging back to the tree and blanket anyway. Even if that wasn’t Glimmer, it wouldn’t be long before she arrived. The dragon quickly came into focus, gleaming gold in the evening sunlight. Glimmer dropped to the ground a polite distance away from the tree.
Shasta snatched the blanket off the ground, shook the leaves off it, and ran over to her ride. The dragon knelt down, and Shasta tossed the blanket over her back and quickly climbed into place.
Glimmer looked back at Shasta. “Are you ready to fly?”
“Yes.” She gripped the spine ridge in front of her and leaned low over Glimmer’s back.
Instead of jumping into the air, Glimmer started trotting. A moment later she was galloping down the hill. Shasta gripped the spine ridge unt
il her knuckles turned white. Any second now they would be in the air.
Glimmer kept running. Shasta was ready to ask Glimmer to stop when she saw the drop-off ahead of them. Glimmer sprinted forward, jumping off the edge. For one terrifying moment they were falling, then Glimmer snapped her wings open and they lifted up into the air. Shasta relaxed her grip and took a few deep breaths. While she’d known dragons could take off that way, this was the first time she’d been aboard when it had happened.
Up in the air, Shasta had a perfect view of the sun edging below the horizon, painting the nearby clouds in reds and purples. Other thoughts were driven from her mind as she enjoyed the sunset. Before long, the reds gave way to deep purples and then the purples to shades of blue. By the time Glimmer landed back in town, the sun had slipped away, leaving an evening-blue sky in its wake.
After sliding off Glimmer and retrieving her blanket, Shasta bowed to the dragon. “Thank you for transporting me.”
Glimmer bobbed her head. “I would enjoy doing it again in the future.” With that the dragon turned and started trotting in the direction of the dining hall.
Shasta wrapped the blanket around herself and headed back to her own dwelling at a leisurely walk. If she and Cord were going to examine the skeleton tomorrow, she would need to rethink the training schedule. Perhaps instead of having them do a morning and afternoon run with time between to evaluate each dragon’s performance, she could have them do all the runs back-to-back. That way she’d only need to do two rounds of evaluations and in theory it would go much more quickly. Of course, since they’d also have to fly opposition, that was more like four runs, which was why she’d been spacing it out. However, if they were going to get the afternoon off, they’d probably be willing to make the trade.
Earth Born (The Earth Born Cycle Book 1) Page 3