by Lisa Daniels
At her question, Kalgrin’s smile lessened, and he broke eye contact with her. “We’ll be looking to place your family in one of the human fort towns to the north. They don’t allow any dragons in, but we have a deal to give them humans who suffer the most under the wyrms’ regime. That’s where we’ll send you as well. I just wanted you to see your family first. Spend some time with them... before.”
His words caused mixed feelings in her body. Happy that her family was going somewhere safe. Unhappy because she didn't want to leave Kalgrin, even though she knew she would. Even though Seon had given her that temporary job, just to help her get into the flow of things. I wish I could have spent longer with him.
Kendra looked sharply between Kalgrin and Anya. Her eyes expanded slightly, and her wrinkled mouth pursed, resembling a prune. “Daughter mine,” she finally said, “I have something I want to talk with you about. Can we talk in private?” she asked Kalgrin, who nodded.
“Of course. In fact, I’ll go out and buy some clothes. I don’t think you all can start wearing my shirts… you'll check over the soup?”
Anya's mother nodded. “No soup will burn on my watch.”
Kalgrin grinned and departed, leaving Anya with her family. Kendra wore a calculating squint.
“What?” Anya recognized the look. Her mother was planning something. Something Anya no doubt wouldn’t like.
“You realize Kalgrin likes you, Anya?”
Well, she went straight to the point.
Anya hesitated. Should she deny it? She did suspect something. Hoped it, even. “Yes… though I don’t really understand it.”
“Because you’re pretty,” Kendra said immediately. “Not just with body, but with spirit, too. You’ve not been bent and broken.” She stepped closer to her daughter. “He desires you. Probably doesn’t want you to leave.”
Anya’s heart started strange convulsions. No. He didn't like her that way, did he? Suddenly, she realized her interpretation of events to be completely wrong. Had she been mistaking lust for affection? Or were they part of the package? Did he desire her that way? The questions continued to storm in her mind. Somehow, she ended up latching stupidly to the last part of Kendra's statement. “You think he’ll imprison me?”
“No. You’ll imprison yourself.” Kendra nodded at her daughter. “You should stay with this man. Sex him. Whatever it takes to keep him close.”
Anya’s jaw dropped at her mother’s words. Her grandpa blinked, eyebrow raising. Grandpa certainly didn't expect that level of bluntness either. And Anya, well... she didn't know what to think. Except that she wasn't sure if she'd be comfortable with the idea of being rescued, just for... that.
“Ma. He’s a dragon.” The best excuse she thought of. A dragon. An enemy. Except, drakes weren't enemies, were they? They helped.
“He’ll take good care of you. Give you a better chance at life than any of us had before.” Kendra let out a sniff at this, and something glimmered in her dark eyes. A threat of tears. Curses, her mother was crying about this? “Or are you saying that you think he ain’t a good catch? You seen that face?”
Anya's breathing picked up, almost becoming panicked. “Ma. I don’t feel that way.” A lie. She did feel attracted to him. But… dragon. That was wrong, right? Plus, she didn’t know him, or know how to feel about it, given that she had spent most of her life covered in mud and avoiding men’s stares. Being told they only wanted her for one thing. Trying not to be curious what that one thing felt like.
“I don’t need to do that, Ma. I don’t need to look for someone to take care of me. I want to take care of myself first.” Anya stood up to her mother, clenching her hands into fists. Her mother meant well, but she didn’t understand. How free could Anya be if she tied herself to someone like Kalgrin, for the sake of convenience and kindness? What was the point in being who she was, then? With these dreams? With the desire to do something good?
No point. Not if she didn't create any of that goodness herself. Not if she ended up too much in debt to Kalgrin, and once again became a slave, just in a different format and a prettier prison.
Someone cleared their throat, and Anya gasped in horror as she saw Kalgrin standing there, looking rather sheepish. Oh no. Her cheeks blushed a furious red. “Um,” he said, “I might have overheard some of what you were saying…”
Kendra gave him a flinty look. “I said I wanted privacy.”
“Yes, but we have rather good hearing…” Kalgrin held up his hands in a supplicating gesture. Probably not enough to avoid Kendra's wrath. “I want to say this. It’s true I find Anya… pleasing to look at. But I’m not going to let you persuade her to stay here. However… if you do want to stay in Tarn, there is something you can do,” he said, now addressing Anya. “Something that I think will suit that spirit of yours. Since I don't think you'd be happy working with Seon for too long. Not when you're finally free.”
“I’m listening,” Anya said, once she got over her initial embarrassment of having the drake overhear her mother basically try to sell her off.
How shit, she thought, to know she and her mother kept the mentality of the plantations. To hold onto that desire of being rescued and being taken care of.
Not that she blamed her mother for that thinking, either. Anya knew, however, that if Kalgrin didn’t give her the option to go, even though she liked him – or if her mother forced her to stay here – she’d eventually end up a similar vein of miserable as before. Even if she no longer feared beatings or long, relentless work hours.
“You can work with us. The fort towns, the safehouses. The humans we rescue – they don’t always want to listen to drakes. They’re still deathly afraid. We could do with someone like you helping them.”
An interesting offer. “I’m not fully trusting, either. I don’t… I don’t know how to trust you. Even with all this.” She indicated her family. The stone in her throat made it hard to speak. Her words constricted on themselves, as if expecting negative backlash from her audacity. “It’s all just too good to be true. I’m waiting for something bad to happen.”
“I know.” He looked sad. “I see it.”
They fell into brief silence as Anya digested his words. His sincerity. What a depressing thing for him to say. To reveal the extent of her thoughts, to see her destroying herself from the inside out.
This needs to change. I'm not in that place anymore. I don't need to be that person. “How would this new job work?”
The drake licked his lips. His gray eyes never left hers as he replied, “One step at a time. We’ll start with you rehabilitating the humans we have here. We can’t send them all to the same places – there’s not always enough room. Mostly you would reassure them they’re safe and that their lives will be different. Try and tell them we’re not the enemy. They’ll listen to you.” He paced up and down the room then. “And… I can get you a place at the inn until you’ve earned enough coin to live in a house of your own. Seon can have a word with the owner, and the rooms are cheap anyway. We’ll pay you for your work in helping others.”
She considered his offer. On one hand, she had a life going to some unknown place, a human fort with her mother and four younger siblings and her wizened grandpa. Something unknown but probably exciting. Not seeing Kalgrin again, or that smile. Not being able to understand who he was.
On the other hand, a life helping other people in her position. People whose souls had been ground into nothing.
Yes, she thought. I like that. I can do something. I can be something. I'll help people then. People who never helped themselves.
The idea of being placed in such a position – to live in a place of her own, to earn coin instead of food scraps – opened a whole new realm of possibility.
A human able to make her own way in life.
It wasn’t a choice for her, really. The way ahead shone clear. Maybe she'd feel a little sad not being in the same house as Kalgrin. But it was never meant to be for long, anyway. “I’d like that,” she s
aid, giving Kalgrin a grateful smile. “Helping other people. I’d like that very much.”
Chapter Five
She left Kalgrin's house two days later, moving into the inn. Her mother kept giving not so subtle hints for Anya to secure Kalgrin in her life as quickly as possible, before she departed with the rest to that fort town in the north. Heidrun or something. Wyrms didn't like the cold, apparently. You didn't see many of them in the frozen north.
It made sense in a way, because even humans had issues adapting to such a cold climate. Her mother left the day before Anya moved, eager to start her new life away from everything that reminded her of the wyrms. She promised to message her every now and then, using a professional letter writer. Anya could do the same on the other end to listen to them.
She hugged and kissed each of her siblings goodbye, then her grandpa, saving mother for last.
“You do strong and well, baby girl,” Kendra had whispered. Her arms at that point felt like sturdy oak. The same arms that had pushed her out their mud hut to freedom, not thinking twice about the sacrifice it might have meant.
Such reckless mother’s arms.
Kalgrin helped Anya into the inn, buying her some extra clothes, making sure she had things to start her life running. He couldn't get her into his line of work just yet, so she worked under Seon's tutelage, learning to clean with aplomb. Seon herself had an interesting energy about her, a calming influence, and a secret that twinkled behind her eyes. Once, Anya had caught Seon whispering, though she didn't know what Seon whispered to.
Other times, Seon seemed to spot something in the shadows and jump, before settling back. An overactive imagination. Perhaps from trauma? Not that trauma happened to be anything unusual. People saw things all the time in the plantations. People spoke of ghosts and the dead watching over them.
Slowly but surely, Anya adapted to her new life. Days passed into weeks. She lived in the inn for the first few weeks until accumulating enough pay to move into a small hovel of her own, one street away from Kalgrin’s modest abode. It'd been the closest she could find to Kalgrin. A part of her didn't want him gone. She yearned sometimes to just knock on his door and stumble through, letting him cook his terrible tomato soup or help her with that bath.
Eventually, Kalgrin confirmed he'd secured the position for her, and she'd be speaking to them and dealing with them in the inn itself. No need to move from Tarn at all, except to go on trips for the more troubled humans.
Trips with Kalgrin. Bringing him back into her life again.
“It won't be easy work,” Kalgrin said, fondly patting her on the shoulder when he had given her the news in the inn. They sat next to each other. She'd gone for her break to talk to him. “Most people are far more broken than you. They've long since forgotten what hope feels like. What love feels like.”
Anya focused on Kalgrin's hand which still lay on the table. Such a strong, smooth thing. A hand that could break boulders, but didn't display a single blemish. It seemed to creep towards hers. Or did she creep to him, wanting to touch it? Wanting to remind herself of his warmth?
He just had to be so handsome, didn't he? All these dumb things she did – grabbing a house near him, almost shouting in triumph when his offer meant she stayed put or worked with him closely. Always thinking about knocking on his door and seeing if he was in.
Gods. Pretty looks couldn't do that to a person. Couldn't make her heart so painful. Smiles, maybe. Kindness, certainly. That twinkle in his eyes, definitely.
And that hand, moving across the table. Taking a deep breath, she casually let her fingers skim the top of his knuckles. Electricity crackled.
She hesitated. “It's not like we're given opportunities to understand what real love feels like. It's like being in a dark tunnel all the time. Except there's no light. Just blackness.”
Kalgrin's gray eyes followed the movement of her fingers. Anya's hair hung in little rivulets from her head, coiling from Seon's attempt at doing her hair up earlier. Imagine if she was bolder. Just letting her fingers trail up his arm, up to his cheek, cupping it, leaning forward to kiss...
No!
She blinked to get rid of the thought and blushed slightly. No. She just liked him because he was nice. Because he looked nice. Because he hit all the right buttons in her and made her think the sun shone out of his soul–
Because he... yeah. She needed to stop doing this. Waxing poetic about a dragon. A strong, mighty dragon with red wings that covered the sky...
“It almost sounds like you want someone to show you,” Kalgrin said softly. Letting her fingers stay on him. He didn't pull away. He also didn't seem like he was breathing.
“Maybe I do,” Anya said. “Or maybe I hope to show it to other people. Like the wretches you speak of. The ones who are broken.”
Kalgrin inhaled deeply at last. His gray eyes had seemed dazed for a moment. “Yes. Well.” Now he let out a grin. “If you want to be shown, I might know a guy around here who can help.”
Anya had watched him as he retreated back out the inn. Too long. Every step caught her eye. Even the way his rear packed itself in with his pace, that confident and fluid glide across the cobbles.
And she'd be working with him more. Her lips curved upwards.
Seemed like neither of them wanted each other to be gone.
When she closed her eyes in her new home, three times as big as her little mud hut, she dreamed of pleasant things. She dreamed of a better future, and didn't feel shame for it.
There was no shame in wanting a better life.
Chapter Six
Her job of helping rescued humans proved as hard as expected. The people she got saddled with at the inn were damaged goods. The younger ones maybe possessed more hope, but older ones simply had set views, unable to understand that life could be different. They didn't get that they no longer needed to worry about keeping their voices down, or expect punishment for every minor transgression. They flinched like awful, shattered animals who had been kicked one too many times.
Honestly, it became exhausting. But at the same time, seeing the first spark of hope, no matter how rarely it came, made the whole process worthwhile.
Travelling the lands on Kalgrin's back was pretty fun, too.
The first time she did it, she marvelled at the world from atop. Not being encased in his claws made her beam and want to throw up her arms in excitement, except if she did, she'd probably fall off and break everything in the fall.
“Must be different for you now, eh? Instead of staring at everything through my claws.”
“It helps I'm not covered in shit, either,” Anya said, grinning. Her hands curled around Kalgrin's spikes. She rode at the bottom of his neck, finding it the best place to not accidentally fall off. He'd let her try a few positions before settling on this one. “How must you feel, Kalgrin? Seeing the world like this? What I wouldn't give to fly like you.”
Kalgrin let out a rumbling laugh. “You get used to it after a while. But you know, if you want to fly so much, you can just ask me. I might be able to find some spare time here and there to take you into the skies. Visit some nice places. The wyrms can't touch us there, after all.” He then let out a theatrical sigh. “Apparently the drakes of old used to be able to breathe fire. If we still had that ability, I'm sure the wyrms wouldn't have such a strong foothold on everything now. Hey, did I ever tell you about the time where I nearly lost my life trying to protect people on a supply run?”
“Did you now?” Anya deliberately enthused her voice with as much interest as possible. She caught about every second word he said with the winds whipping past them.
“Yes. I'll have you know I was very heroic.”
“I'm sure you were,” Anya said, now smiling, though obviously he couldn't see it. Her mother had warned her about this. Boasting. Men liked to boast of their achievements, to impress women. Because they didn't know any other ways to impress.
It probably wasn't anything like that, but the description did give An
ya some amusement.
“There were about fifty humans on the food wagons, escorting them to one of the barren northern towns. It's hard to grow crops up there, so they rely on the nearby farming villages, the ones run by drakes for sustenance. We were almost there, before two hundred wyrms set upon us from the hills.”
“Two hundred?”
“Yes. Two hundred. And there were just twenty drakes, expected to protect the humans from those bastards. Twenty! Can you imagine the odds?”
Anya let out a complimentary mm hmm, and Kalgrin continued talking about his heroic efforts to save the food caravans. How they helped pick up the humans from almost three hundred wyrms – the number kept increasing for some reason – and protected most of the caravan from being destroyed thanks to the sheer ferocity of how Kalgrin fought.
When he'd finished his astonishing tale of ardor, Anya waited a moment. He held his head up high, wanting her to see how heroic he was.
And then she asked, “So what really happened?”
At first, Kalgrin blustered. Then, with a little more teasing, he admitting it was just twenty wyrm guards, and they'd already been forewarned of the attack. They did have ballistas like he mentioned, but none came close to hitting the drakes.
“It just sounds boring if I describe it as a routine rout, you know.”
“I'm sure,” Anya said. “How many times have you told that story to others?”
“Probably a few dozen times,” he said, sounding rather sheepish. “But it was scary. We don't usually get attacks so far north.”
Anya shook her head, smiling because he'd so clearly been trying to make her admire him. Not that he needed to do that, because she admired him already.
“Kalgrin. I'm sure you've done some spectacular, amazing things in your life. Things I could only dream of.” That soured her a bit, because the words stung of truth. She'd never done anything past the plantations except dream. Other places felt like clouds hanging over her head. Unseen, unknown, except for that city they once visited. Wherever it was. She cleared her throat, banishing the mood. “And I'd love to hear about all your exploits. I could do with some more color in my life.” She discreetly checked over his red scales. Yes, this definitely added extra color in her life.