Yuri had no energy and was too numb to feel fear. When the talker eventually passed out from his pain, all the adrenaline running through Yuri’s veins seemed to disappear at once. Without it, Yuri fell unconscious. When he woke, it was night. Yuri looked for the talker and saw him halfway to the hut, unmoving. It was hard to tell, but Yuri figured he must have dragged himself that far and passed out again. He was glad he hadn’t started crawling towards him.
At a loss for what to do, Yuri searched the skies above for the constellation his village called Samora. As a child, he could never see the dragon. The best he could do was make the stars look like a dog, and he knew he didn’t want to share that fact with Samora. Tonight, though, he could finally see it: Samora’s head reaching up to swallow the North Star, its wings spread wide and its tail curving down to the ground. It was almost as real as seeing Samora in the field. “Hi?” he asked, wondering if he would get an answer.
Yuri felt his arm tingling. He brought his arm up and saw that, while thin, it was definitely healing. He could almost see the muscle rebuilding under his healed skin. He dropped his head back to the ground and exhaled deeply. He felt the same tingling on his throat, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember when he was injured there. It was definitely time to go. The other talker had started moaning again and the strength was returning to his arm. He stood up slowly and went to his pack. He put it on left shoulder first, just to be safe. He tried to be thankful for his recovery, but it wasn’t that easy considering he didn’t know what gift Samora had actually given him.
He looked up at the stars, searching for the dragon constellation he saw so clearly before, asking, “Was he crazy before or after he became the talker?”
Yuri began walking. He didn’t feel like sleeping and felt he might as well start for the next town, finding some water and solitude along the way.
Chapter 14
Lanner began imagining various ways Perante’s magic would show up. Tapestries that would grab him, mice that would report him, wolves that would devour him. What he found, instead, were pleasant people going about their business. He would look for groups of 3 or more people and fall in behind them, hoping they would give him cover. When they went into a room, Lanner would peel off at the last minute, after getting a peak into room.
People appeared to be able to walk around the perimeter without reproach. What type of room Melanie would be in, he could only guess, and his guesses did not make him happy. He had just dropped in behind a group of workmen when Melanie found him. “Lanner! What are you doing here?”
Lanner spun around, “Melanie! I can’t believe I found you.”
Melanie looked at him quizzically. “Why were you looking for me?”
“Well…when you left home so…you see…I”
“This is not the Lanner I know - tongue-tied.” Melanie shook her head.
Lanner relaxed, this was obviously not a woman under stress. There must be some kind of mistake, he thought. “I’m just glad to see you. I thought Perante kidnapped you, and…”
“Oh Lanner, you say the craziest things. Why would he do that, and can you kidnap a person to paradise?”
Lanner tensed back up, “This is a nice place and all, but paradise?”
“Have you seen the gardens on this floor?”
“I have not. Look, I know this sounds crazy, but will you let me walk you home?”
“Lanner,” Melanie spoke to him as if he were a child, “I am home.”
Lanner didn’t speak. She continued, “Tell my parents I will visit soon. In fact, I may even bring them up to the gardens if Perante approves.”
“Listen,” Lanner grabbed her shoulders, “that monster messed with your mind. Come with me and we’ll figure this out.”
Melanie tried to shake free. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you don’t let go of me right now, I know what will happen to you.”
Lanner let go. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He raised his arms and showed open hands. “I would not want to take you from paradise. I will pass on to your parents that you are okay.” He turned around and headed towards the nearest staircase until the voice stopped him.
“That’s it? I’ll pass a message on to your family?” Perante’s appeared out of the once-empty shadows of the hall, stepping in front of Lanner. “My big noble woodsman is just leaving, after putting out one of my guards and finding the girl? Pathetic.”
Lanner looked behind him at Melanie and then back to Perante. “I needed some rope if I was to get her out of here.”
“Ah, yes, rope. What a genius you are. Why did I think this would be any fun. You…”
Before Perante could finish, Lanner was running past Melanie, trying to escape. Melanie slid her foot out and entangled his legs as he passed. He crashed into the hard wooden floor. Melanie looked to Perante and said with a smile, “all for you, sir. Did I do well?”
“Of course, my dear.” Perante walked up to Lanner, who had his arm on the wall to help him stand on his shaky legs. “Enough of this. You are quite a disappointment, and as strong as you are, I do not think I would enjoy seeing your stupid face every day. You may go.”
Lanner didn’t think he heard him right, but he was in no condition to argue and did not want to stick around. “Thank you.”
“You may go,” Perante repeated, “as an old man.” Perante leaned in close and whispered into Lanner’s ear, “Gentarian ganeh.”
Lanner felt all the air leave his lungs and the strength was pulled from his legs. He fell back down to the floor. Perante and Melanie watched as he writhed in pain. He felt himself wasting away. The sharp pains didn’t stop until his body that of a man in his 70s. Crumpled on the floor, the sharp pains reduced to dull aches, he watched a rat stare at him for a moment and walk away down the hall, disappearing into a hole. “I knew it,” he said, in a voice he no longer recognized.
“Do you want to hear something ironic old man?” Perante didn’t wait for a reply. “This girl you find so beautiful, so worth risking your life for, bores me. Nothing would have happened to her. Now, because of you, I think I will send her away. Yes, as bland as she is, she deserves being around people less stupid than you.”
Tears rolled down Lanner’s face. “Please,” he begged, “Don’t do that. It’s all my fault, don’t take it out on her.”
“Woodsman, I am but a teacher, and you would not get the lesson if the people you cared about didn’t pay the price.” Perante kneeled down in front of Lanner, leaned in and said, “What I say is law. Is that so hard to understand? To obey?”
“She’s just a girl.”
“There are no ‘justs.’ There is the law, and it applies to all. Think about that every time your old bones ache, and…” Perante added a magic command to the rest, “make sure to thank me for the lesson.”
Lanner heard himself talk, as if he were far away, “Yes sir, thank you sir.”
Perante stood up, smiling. “Ahh, another lesson conveyed. Another simpleton a little more learned. My work is never done.” Over his shoulder, he added, “Your job is to find a broom and keep the floors clean - understood old man?”
“Yes sir, happy to be of service.”
Disgust crept into Perante’s voice, “Of course you are.”
Chapter 15
Samora used her tongue to try and push out the leg of a mountain goat that was stuck in her teeth. Eventually, it dropped to the ground with a thud. Samora was in front of the mouth of a cave, half way up the side of a mountain. The last light of the day was fading fast. A few Cardinals and Black Phoebes fluttered around the mouth of the cave, looking for places in the trees to settle in for the night. A small flame flashed out of the mouth of the cave, illuminating the head and chest of another dragon. This dragon, black in color, lumbered out into the opening.
The two dragons, one blue and one black rubbed their heads together in greeting. The black dragon returned to the cave. Samora followed. The night was still as all
the nocturnal animals in the area decided it was more important to stay hidden than it was to go out and eat. The next morning, Samora came out alone. With a look back into the cave, she leaped up and began flying northeast.
***
After two days of flying and numerous meals along the way, she flew over Vrotsim. This caused a small panic as their own dragon had flown overhead just hours before. The villages knew something was out of the ordinary - if dragons meet, and people could only guess that they do, they don’t make it public. She headed straight for the dragon talker’s hut.
Vrotsim’s dragon was already there, and pacing around the hut like a mountain lion in a cage. The green Artic Warblers resting on the hut flew off as Samora dropped in, a few red cardinals taking their place. Vrotsim’s dragon was small in comparison to Samora, who towered over the dragon talker and the hut that he was in front of. The deep blue of Samora’s scales and the green of the other dragon’s scales complimented each other. Scared as the talker was, he couldn’t help notice the way the colors seemed to blend together as Samora crossed in front of the other dragon.
Samora had a wider head, while the Green Dragon the talker knew as Thrinbin had a narrower forehead. Everything about the Blue Dragon seemed thicker, yet Roger, Vrotsim’s dragon talker, firmly believed that the larger dragon in front of him was capable of lightning quick movements. He backed up towards the hut as Samora brought her head down to look at him.
He kept backing up as Samora’s head just seemed to keep moving towards him, even as her body remained still. He ran into the door, causing the door and frame to clap together. He barely heard the noise, though, against the sound of Samora extending her large wings, blocking out all light around the man, as if he suddenly found a cave thrust around him.
In his mind, he saw an image of the talker who had been at his hut the week before. Next, the image of this Blue Dragon appeared, holding a wing over the young talker. Roger closed his eyes, but the image did not go away. Then, he felt a wave of anger pound against his chest. Roger wondered how long he would remain alive.
When nothing else happened, he opened his eyes to see Samora turning away from him. Long with a dragon, Roger knew better than to stand around when one turned around. He dived to the ground as Samora’s large blue tail whipped over his prone body and cut through his hut as if it had been built out of twigs and leaves. Small bits of the hut’s roof and walls rained down on him as the two dragons rubbed necks, and the next thing Roger knew he was alone with Thrinbin. In the distance, he saw the blue dragon flying off, followed by a small flock of Blue Jays.
Thrinbin suddenly looked small to Roger. The dragon stared at him, and Roger wondered what would come next. As the silence grew, he felt compelled to say something. “Well, I will not lay a spoon, let alone an axe, on that talker. I have received the message, loud and clear, but did it have to ruin my hut?”
Thrinbin walked over to the remains of the hut, looking inside, which was incredibly easy to do since the roof was gone and the tops of the walls were, too. It scanned his table and chairs near his fire place, his bed, the cooking utensils lying on the floor, then reached in and gently picked up Roger’s bed in its mouth, setting it outside the wall.
“Okay, thank you, I guess, listen, can…..wait, wait, wait!” Roger started running towards Thrinbin as it expanded its chest and exhaled a stream of fire into the center of his cabin.
“No! No….ah, the tail!” he shouted, resigned. There was nothing else to say and he pulled his bed farther from the now burning walls of the hut.
Thrinbin lay down by the burning hut, rolling on its side so the light green scales of its belly were facing the flames. Roger felt the dragon’s feeling of contentment wash over him. “Great, you enjoy that. I only lived there.” He sat on the bed. A dragon talker did not leave a dragon unless he was told to. “I suppose I should thank you for the bed?”
The dragon lifted its head and looked at Roger. It snorted a short burst of flames out of its nostril in reply, then went back to focusing on the fire. Roger went to his bed, now out in the open, but did not sleep. “It’s not my fault. I thought the kid was a spy. You made it clear to me you hate mages, so what’s the big deal? I tried to kill one…Why didn’t he die, anyway? I cut through half his stupid neck. It sure looked like he was dying.”
Thrinbin didn’t move. “Can you do that for me? The invisibility is great, believe me, but add that not dying part, I’d be the best talker yet. I’d show those stupid villagers. I’m making them rebuild my hut, you know. I’ll just tell them you want them too, the fools. I thought this would be…” Roger’s voice trailed off as he realized no one was listening, not even the warblers that had returned, finding resting places on his bed, now that his hut was gone.
Eventually, he fell asleep. When he awoke, frost covered the blanket that was no longer thick enough to keep him warm in the middle of a fall night. “Just great.” Roger looked around and didn’t see any dragons, nor did he feel one. “Thanks for saying goodbye, you jerk.” It was easy enough to start a fire from the ashes of his hut, and soon he was warming himself in front of a small fire.
“Mind if I join you?” a voice called from the darkness.
“That depends, what do you want?” Roger was in no mood for company, which was his usual mood.
“Oh, it’s not what I want, but more what I can give,” the voice answered back.
“Listen, I’m in no mood to fool around.” He looked in the direction of the voice, but could see only darkness.
“No games, may I come to your fire? I have an offer you will like, but your dragon won’t.”
Roger looked around and the remains of his hut, lit by the flickering fire. “Sounds good to me, come to the fire and let me hear this offer of yours.”
The first thing Roger saw was a pair of eyes glowing green in the reflected firelight, about two and a half feet off the ground. Next to the dog, a man’s form also came into the light. “My name is Winderall, and I am pleased to meet you.”
Chapter 16
The morning after Yuri’s disastrous encounter with the dragon talker, Yuri understood how bad it really was when he noticed the brown stain on the front of his jacket. Taking off his jacket, he saw that it was dried blood, and from the way it was focused on his left neck and chest, Yuri realized that his neck must have been cut while he was unconscious.
Yuri put it in his pack. He did not want to wear it again until he had a chance to wash the blood out. He knew he should be thankful for Samora’s gift, but he wished he knew how to fight, and not the couple guys wrestling for fun stuff - all the boys of Mandan could do that. This keep yourself alive when the other man has an axe was an entirely different thing.
He continued to head east. He didn’t know where else to go, so he just kept walking. When he came upon a lake, he stopped to wash out his jacket and shirt. The country he was currently in was hilly and forested, and he almost missed the lake. He could smell it, though, and saw KriKri flying overhead. Not only did the white birds make the distinctive Krikri call, they were known to prefer habituating bodies of water. Yuri followed a game trail off the path and found himself at a secluded, sandy beach near a large lake.
He gathered driftwood to make a fire, and he also found a sturdy branch to make into a fishing pole, which he set aside for later. Once he had the fire going, he pulled the blood stained clothes out of his pack and took them to the edge of the lake. The water was bitter cold, with ice forming along the shore. He was surprised, then, when at first the water did not feel so cold. Soon, though, his hands were stinging. He kept rubbing the clothes together with the last of his soap, preferring the pain to leaving his own blood on his clothes. When his hands couldn’t take it anymore, he headed back to the fire.
He made a rack out of smaller branches and hung his shirt and jacket by the fire to dry. After warming up his hands, he tied a string to the pole and used the last of some cheese he had picked up at the market as bait. He had three hooks left in
his supply and hoped he wouldn’t snag one - he did not want to have to wade into the frigid water to retrieve it.
He walked down the beach, looking for and finding a downed tree. It’s branches provided a good habitat for fish. The cheese, weighted with a coin that had a hole through the center, wasn’t down long before Yuri felt a nibble. He grabbed the line and pulled, setting the hook. Slowly, he pulled the line in hand over hand, while walking back toward the beach. Soon, he could see the fish in the shallows. His hunger, suddenly more apparent now that food was in sight, convinced him to head into the water to make sure he didn’t lose his supper.
Once back by the dwindling fire, Yuri added more driftwood and started preparing the fish. As he did, he felt a chill on his chest. The dragon scale was getting colder. “Now what does that mean?” Yuri asked out loud. It didn’t seem ominous, so he went back to preparing his fish.
Soon, the fish was fried and eaten. Yuri laid back on his pack and looked over the lake. The water was smooth, reflecting the trees around its edges and the darkening blue sky. Just as Yuri felt the amulet raise up against his shirt, he saw Samora heading towards him from across the lake. Yuri watched and waited, until Samora dived head first into the middle of the lake. The massive splash was matched by the crashing sound Samora made, as if a giant boulder had been dropped in the lake. That got him up from his pack.
Yuri, standing, waited. He expected Samora to launch out of the water, but all he saw were the waves slowly dissipating. He watched, waiting for something. Questions started running through his mind. How long can dragons hold their breath? Can they breathe underwater? What the tail is Samora doing?
After what seemed like an hour but was actually only minutes, Yuri saw Samora’s head slowly rise out of the water. Roughly 10 feet on either side of its head, Yuri could see the edges of Samora’s wings. The head and wings moved gently up and down as the dragon moved closer to the shore. It took Yuri a minute to realize Samora was walking on the lakebed.
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