He started laughing. “You are a strange dragon,” he yelled. As soon as the words left his mouth, he turned his head and looked down sheepishly, hoping Samora hadn’t heard him. With nothing else to do but wait, Yuri looked around to clean up, but there was little to do. He threw what was left of the fish into the fire and wiped his hands on his pants.
Standing next to the shore, he hoped Samora didn’t stop. She didn’t, and Yuri backed up as she finally came ashore. Samora sat down with her tail still in the lake. Keeping his head down, Yuri kept moving his hands from his side to holding them behind his back and then returning them to his side again. Samora squinted at Yuri, then moved her head close, inhaling deeply.
Yuri felt the wound on his neck become cold. “Yeah, well…” he stammered as he brought up his left hand and began rubbing the scar, “I’m not that good a fighter, and how am I supposed to know what to do if I don’t have someone to teach me?” With that question, Yuri raised his head and looked at Samora. “Samora, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Yuri’s neck was no longer cold, nor was it itchy. He felt the cold that was Samora’s thoughts sink into his chest. He shivered at first, but then, like with the wound and their first meeting, he felt warm and calm. “Thank you. I do feel better.”
Samora splashed her tail in the water.
Even in the evening light, Yuri could tell whatever he saw before on Samora was not there now. “You look better, too.”
As Samora got up and started walking past Yuri, he felt himself get heavy and decided Samora wanted him to stay. He did as she went past him and headed to the edge of the trees. There, she bit into a tree, about four feet off the ground, and snapped the top right off. The top 20 feet of the tree fell back into the woods.
Yuri couldn’t see for sure, but it looked like she was rubbing her belly against the jagged stump of the tree. Yuri heard a popping sound like that of a boot being pulled out of thick mud, and then Samora roared. Even with Samora’s head facing away from Yuri, the sound knocked him down. Yuri didn’t know whether he fell from the force or from fear, but he knew he had discovered a new, deeper level of fear for dragons than he had known before.
He watched as Samora lowered her head and picked something off the ground by the stump of the tree. She turned around and headed back toward Yuri. She sat down on her haunches in front of Yuri and dropped it at his feet. At first, Yuri thought it was a blue blanket, though how that made sense he didn’t know. Nothing was making sense right now.
Looking closer, he saw that it was a patch of Samora’s scales. He looked at her belly and saw a bloody gap in her scales the same size as what laid on the ground. He felt Samora’s presence in his mind. He saw an image of him being attacked by the other dragon talker, but this time, the axe bounced off Yuri’s blue skin. The next image was of Yuri, bare-chested, putting the patch of scales on his chest.
Yuri picked up the scales. The inside reminded him of the skins hanging outside the butcher’s shop back at his village. The scales were smooth and hard to the touch. There was nothing known that could break through a dragon’s scales. Yuri wondered how the fight would have gone if he had this earlier. “How did you know?”
Samora didn’t answer, and Yuri looked again at the Samora’s wound, a wound he didn’t think was even possible. “Thank you.” For the first time, Yuri thought Samora might actually care what happened to him. Whatever the case, he knew that this was a special occasion. This was a statement of commitment.
He took off his shirt. Samora watched as he held out the scales in front of him. They were heavy yet flexible. Yuri took a deep breath and brought the scales to his chest. When the scales were only inches from his chest, they leapt out of his hands and hit his chest with a smacking sound. He could feel the scales moving, adjusting to his body. They covered his entire chest. At his waist, they curved around and covered his kidneys. His shoulders were also covered, with a few scales sliding up his neck to cover the sides of his throat.
Yuri ran his fingers over the scales. They were cool to the touch. Most surprising, he could feel his fingers on the scales, as if he was touching his own chest.
“Ah, Samora,” Yuri reached around, looking for the seam between the scales and his own skin. He could feel the edges between scale and skin, but there was no gap. “Listen, I appreciate the protection, and I know it wasn’t easy for you to do this, but…”
He looked up at Samora. She, and he knew she was a she now, was looking back at him. He felt as if she was staring right through him. Maybe even warning him.
“I am honored.”
Samora nodded her head in response.
“I have been looking for you, and when I couldn’t find you, I’ve been looking for other dragon talkers to teach me what I need to know.” He rubbed his neck, feeling the scales that now protected him. “But that didn’t go so well. I should have waited for you.”
Samora stood up on all four legs.
Yuri backed up. “Can we talk? I really don’t know what I am supposed to do.” He felt her presence in his mind. The image of Mandan village formed clearly in his mind. Samora turned around, bent her knees, and then leapt into the air, water trailing from her tail as she flew away, heading over the trees leading back to the path.
Yuri, after ducking her tail, watched her go. “Well…okay…” He raised his voice, “I’ll see you there!” Then much lower, “…in a month.”
Samora turned in the air and started heading back towards Yuri. How good is your hearing? he thought and then, I’m really glad I have armor on right now. Even as Samora dived towards Yuri, he could tell she was in a good mood. If she was human, she would have been smiling. She flashed over Yuri, who had just enough time to remember her tail to tilt his head back down from looking up at her and see it flashing towards him.
Samora’s tail caught Yuri square in the chest, sending him flying through the air and twenty feet into the lake. Even as the wind was knocked out of him, Yuri tensed in anticipation of hitting the cold water. Hitting the water was hard, but the cold water that was stinging his hands only hours ago did not burn. Instead, Yuri felt invigorated, strong. He felt like he could swim for hours. Treading water, he waited to see what Samora would do. She flew off, leaving Yuri in the lake. Yuri started swimming to shore. When he was able to stand on the lake bed, he turned and looked back across the wide lake. Energy burned inside him, and he wondered if he could swim to the other shore. He could, and did, four times.
When he finally stopped swimming on the fifth trip and started to tread water in the middle of the lake, he released it was late in the night. Floating on his back, Yuri looked up and saw stars. Looking around under the moonlight, he could see that not just the edges of the lake were starting to freeze. Thin sheets of ice bumped against him. He headed for shore. The scales felt a part of him, now, and dripping wet in the moonlight, Yuri felt as warm as if he was in his parent’s hut at home, with a fire roaring in the fireplace. He also felt wide awake. Powerful.
He loaded his cooking supplies in his pack and started heading home.
Chapter 17
Perante walked between the braces that made up the second floor. The weight that his plan would put on the third floor couldn’t be accurately known, so Perante erred on the side of caution. Now, he could load the entire third floor with boulders and the floor would still support the weight and more. Xeron walked at his side.
“It looks like preparations are finished on the second floor. How is the third going?” Xeron asked Perante.
“We are on schedule. Watch yourself!” Perante reached out with his arm to grab Xeron. Xeron caught his wrist on a nail sticking out of a post.
Xeron pulled his hand back and looked at his wrist. It was bleeding. “Funny, I didn’t see that.”
“That,” Perante said, “is not even worth magic.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Perante continued, “As I was saying, two more shipments of ore and the third floor will be more than
ready for our first guest…And who do you think that guest should be?”
“Winderall is already in talks with a green dragon’s talker that I think will be a good test, feisty, but definitely on the smaller size. It’s not the physical strength I worry about, though, but what kind of dragon tricks it might have to escape captivity.”
“I have plans for that, “ Perante replied, “and I don’t think we have to worry too much about a green, common dragons that they are.”
Xeron patted one of the beams supporting the floor. “I can’t believe you’re going to do this. This is going to be the greatest act a mage has done in a thousand years. I wonder why no one has tried this before?”
“Oh, two have.” Perante smiled, the tight smile he used when was sharing rare information, as if it was a slightly painful act.
“Really, how have I not heard? This kind of word would get out.”
“Ulysa.” Perante started walking again. Xeron followed slightly behind.
“That’s what happened?!”
“Yes, that fool had delusions of grandeur.” Perante stopped walking and turned to Xeron. “The dragons really leveled the place, but the ruins make it clear what he was attempting.”
“Capturing a dragon,” Xeron shook his head in wonder.
“I’m not just going to capture a dragon. I’m going to capture the blue and eat its beating heart.”
“You can’t be…” Xeron stopped when he saw the look on Perante’s face. “How can you do it? How can you pierce a dragon’s hide?”
“I know of a way. It isn’t easy, but it can be done. Stick around and you will see. Let us go check on the blacksmiths and see how the cage is coming.” Perante started walking again.
Xeron waited a moment, saying “I will definitely be staying to see this.” Adding to himself, and standing near a door, just in case.
The first thing Xeron noted when he caught up to Perante was the floor. Over half of it was cover in a thin sheet of bronze. “The floor is coming around.”
“Yes it is, and the cisterns on the roof are almost complete, too. There will be multiple safeguards against fire.” Perante pointed to holes in the ceiling, where water would pour out to extinguish any fire.
“But,” Xeron questioned, “is that necessary for a blue?”
“I do like you, Xeron. You are smart. The test is with a green, and they have plenty of fire in them, but the blue has its own risks. Nature is weak. The metal we make is strong, especially when cast with the right magic. The only natural thing I trust are stones. You and I could tear through wood if we wanted to, and I don’t want to give a dragon free access to it, floor or roof, green or blue.”
Xeron looked around the room, which was starting to look like the inside of a square kettle. “How do you plan on getting a dragon in here?”
“The roof is in sections. It will be open at the right time.”
“Yes, but how here? I can’t imagine too many dragons would want to attack your castle, nor do I think they’d have a re…You plan on giving one a reason.”
“Astute, Xeron, Winderall is working on that part of my plan as we speak.”
Perante walked inside the beginnings of a cage in the center of the room. “Here, Xeron, here is where we begin to claim the world for mankind. The end to beasts telling us what to do. The end of beasts taking what is ours and claiming it for themselves.”
“Here,” he gestured towards the floor, “is where the end of their tainted magic begins. Mark these words, Xeron, and take your place in history. Are you ready to do your part?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Step into the center with me.” Perante gestured for Xeron to come to him.
“Ah…” Xeron quickly looked at the floor, searching for any markings he may have missed. Being in awe of Perante was not the same as trusting Perante. “I understand the import and am with you, but…”
“Xeron,” Perante sounded exasperated, “if I meant to kill you, you would be dead. There is no dark magic, no death required to hold the dragon in this place.” Perante smiled, “At least not your death. Come, join me.”
“Perante, I am…”
“Xeron, you are trying my patience. I can make you come over here, but I do not want to. Come, before you ruin the moment.”
Xeron began walking slowly to the center of the room. He scanned the walls and floors, looking for any sign of a magical trap centered on the room. He rested his hand on the pouch on his waist. He felt comforted by feeling his talisman through the leather. He stopped three feet from Perante.
“I am cautious by nature, Perante, and I have powers of my own that you would not want to trifle with.”
“Of course not. Your powers, though not nearly as impressive as mine, are considerable, which is why I brought you here.” Perante walked away from Xeron, shouting a spell of beginning, “Sumato!”
Xeron tried to follow, but found he could not move more than a step in any one direction. He also felt a pulling at his waist, as if a force was trying to suck out his insides.
“You were wise not to trust me, Xeron, because I do need to run a few tests before I try this with a dragon. Your power, as you no doubtedly feel, is being drained out of you. It will either kill you or simply leave you like a peasant, I’m not sure which. It will be interesting to see, in any event. So, get free or die. And, if you get free, I do have a reward for you, something you will not want to pass up, or ruin by trying to kill me.”
Xeron heard little of this; instead, he began looking for the source of his confinement. “End this now, Perante, and I will call this a good practical joke. There are others we could use for this.”
“Yes, we could, but none as powerful as you. The strong get tested, my friend, the weak eaten. Let’s see which one you are.” Perante summoned a leather chair from against the wall. It scraped across the floor, stopping behind Perante and ten feet in front Xeron. Perante sat in it, steepled his fingers, and stared at Xeron.
Xeron turned his back to Perante, who called out to him, “Now that’s just childish.”
The first thing Xeron did was cast a seeing spell. Anything under the influence of magic began to give off a glow in his sight. All the sheets of bronze in the room where glowing, which he expected. The workers, were, too. Perante himself was giving off a large blue aura. Now he could see markings on the floor and on the wall. He could see the markings, but he could not make sense of them. Even the colors, the significance of which every mage learns early, were not clear to him.
“What is…this?” He felt a weight on his mind, no pain, but it was making him dull. Reaching into the leather pouch he kept at his waist, Xeron pulled out the dried powder made out of a rare, blue mountain flower. He inhaled a pinch, and immediately everything became more clear. The weight that was dulling his mind and sense was gone, but it felt like his body was now under the weight. Still, many of the symbols were familiar entrapment spells. Those were on the walls. Draining spells were on the floor; these he would have to deal with first or he wouldn’t have the strength to deal with the others.
As Xeron focused his mind, a light golden sphere began to form around him. He stood still, his brow furrowed as he stood motionless. At first, the sphere was faint. Tendrils of black energy reached up from the ground and raced around the sphere, finding openings and sinking into Xeron. He didn’t let them break his concentration, but he flinched with each attack. The sphere glowed brighter, and the black steaks of energy stopped finding ways in. Instead, they swirled around the sphere. Four separate strands were slithering around the sphere. On some unspoken command, all four lifted off the sphere and simultaneously dived back at it, exploding on impact.
Xeron smiled. Taking a deep breath, he resumed searching the room for symbols and clues as to what types of magic were being used against him. Perante encouraged him, “Well done. I thought it would take you longer for that one. Impressive, Xeron, impressive.”
Xeron flicked his right hand, first two fingers extended, at Pe
rante. Perante laughed. It wasn’t magic, but it was an insult. Basically, Xeron wished Perante an encounter with a dragon’s tail. “I do love your spirit.” Xeron went back to work.
He saw the containment glyphs on the wall, but he was not about to rush into anything. This room was designed to contain dragons. He mentally checked himself. His mind seemed clear. He could remember the seven laws of casting and recite them backwards. He could move, within the sphere, at least. But what was happening to his wrist?
He pulled back his shirt sleeve and saw what once had been a small cut had expanded. It was over an inch long now and bleeding. He tried a basic healing spell, but that just caused him more pain, and the wound expanded another to twice its size. Blood flowed freely from the wound, but he could tell that no major vein or artery had been pierced.
Ripping a strip of the bottom of his shirt, Xeron wrapped the wound tightly. It slowed the bleeding, but it did not stop it. Xeron cast another healing spell, but the wound only grew wider and bled more. The pain brought him to his knees.
Xeron turned on his knees so he was facing his tormentor. “It’s time to stop this, Perante. Much farther and there will be no repair possible. Do you hear me?”
“Ah, but you are just getting to the good spells. Buck up, mage. Beat this test and I will give you rewards enough to forget what I put you through. Fail, well, you can only bleed so long. I will leave you to your work, but I will not leave you alone.” Perante whistled and one of his black dogs came out of the shadows. Perante commanded the dog, “Watch him,” and left.
“I will make it through this, you son of a whore.” He knew Perante wasn’t really leaving him unattended, only moving to a place where he would have an even greater advantage over him. Xeron knew it would be safer to have Perante where he could see him, but turned his attention momentarily to the dog, “What are you looking at?” The dog stared in return. “Fine, be that way. Stick around and learn something. Maybe I can use, you, too?”
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