Wings of Change

by Lyn Worthen

  About this story, Laura says: “I recalled a Star Trek Original Series episode called ‘Devil in the Dark,’ where everyone thinks the creature killing people (called a Horta) is evil when all it’s doing is protecting its eggs. I decided to take that idea and apply it to a dragon – what if all it was trying to do was protect its young? I also wanted to pursue the idea that just because one member of a group might be bad, it doesn’t mean they all are.”

  There are enough familiar elements in this story that it’s easy to feel yourself pulled into the events, secretly taking part, as though wearing your own cloak of invisibility as you sneak into the dragon’s cave…

  Old Enough to Volunteer

  Laura Ware

  Mikal took advantage of his speed and skinniness to slither and push his way through the crowd gathered at the town square. His actions earned him a few dirty looks and a slap on the back of his head from the fat baker’s flour-dusted hand. “Watch it, boy!”

  Mikal didn’t bother to apologize, though he was tempted to stop and insist he was no longer a boy. He took a huge bite of the honey cake he’d snatched off the kitchen table as he bolted out the door of his home behind his friend Tern, who’d arrived breathless with the news.

  A dragon had been sighted on the outskirts of town! A real flying, fire breathing dragon! There was a meeting in the town center to discuss what to do!

  It had been many years since a dragon had been seen in the kingdom. Mikal’s father still bore the scars across his chest where the red monster had scored a hit with his claws before the men had succeeded in wounding the beast and driving it away. They thought that would be the end of it.

  Mikal tried not to think of his father, currently with the army in the north fighting barbarian raiding parties. He wanted to go with him, begged to go. He was sixteen, after all.

  But his father reminded him that by the king’s law, soldiers had to be at least twenty. “Besides,” his father said, resting a hand on Mikal’s shoulder, “it’s not been that long since you’d been laid up with the wasting disease. You need to regain your strength.”

  Mikal barely heard his mother’s call to come back after Tern’s breathless announcement. He’d raced down the dusty road that led past his house into the town proper. Shule wasn’t the biggest town in the kingdom, or the most wealthy, but to Mikal it was home.

  He hurried past abandoned carts laden with brightly colored fruit, bolts of dyed cloth, and the smelly unguents the local healer sold. Resisting the temptation to grab a rosy apple from the fragrant pile, he sped towards the growing crowd in the square.

  He wondered if there would be a group sent to fight the dragon. He wanted to be a part of it. He was sixteen, and yes, the wasting disease had taken its toll – but he’d run nearly the whole way here without losing his breath.

  He spotted Tern up ahead, dodging around a frazzled-looking woman holding a baby in her arms and two young boys clinging to her skirts. One of the boys was staring at the sky with wide eyes. “Where is the dragon, Mommy?” Mikal heard him ask in a high, clear voice.

  Mikal didn’t bother waiting for the answer. He caught up to his friend as they both broke through to the front of the crowd. Right in front of them, in the center of the square sat the huge round stone well the town drew their water from. Normally at this time of the morning, it would be busy with women drawing water and gossiping about their neighbors.

  Now, only two men stood by the well. One was the mayor, who stood on the ledge of the well, looking at the crowd with a nervous air. He was not much taller than Mikal, but fatter, the buttons of his red vest straining to contain his belly. Bald except for some tufts of black hair by his ears, the mayor swiped at the top of his head with a shaking hand.

  The second man… Mikal felt a thrill of delicious fear as he looked at him. Nekos was pale and gaunt, with wispy white hair that fell to his shoulders. He wore robes black as ink, and whenever Mikal was near him (which wasn’t very often) he got a whiff of herbs that didn’t quite mask the stench of decay.

  Nekos was a mage who lived just outside Shule. He was reclusive, and stories were whispered about him, that he dealt in the black arts, that he was wanted somewhere else for some unspeakable crime. But no one dared confront him with such accusations. When he came to town, he conducted his business with a polite, if distant manner.

  Mikal and his friends liked to try and scare the younger kids with stories about the mage. But they were always careful not to tell such tales when an adult could hear them. Mikal wondered what the mage was doing with the mayor, and if he were the reason the mayor was so nervous.

  As if the mage could read his thoughts, Nekos turned and stared at Mikal. Mikal shivered as he caught sight of the mage’s clear gray eyes looking at him, and he tore his gaze away.

  The mayor waved his arms, calling for silence. People were murmuring, dozens of conversations going on simultaneously, everyone ignoring the men at the well.

  Mikal saw Nekos pull a ring from one of his slender fingers and give it to the mayor. Frowning, the mayor shook his head, waving his pudgy fingers in the mage’s face. Mikal leaned forward slightly and caught the mayor saying, “It won’t fit.”

  “Try it,” Nekos replied, in a voice as smooth as velvet. “It will fit.”

  Mikal elbowed Tern and pointed to the two men. As they watched, the mayor sighed with an exasperated expression and placed the ring on the tip of his right pointer finger.

  The ring slid on the mayor’s thick finger as if it had been made for it. The mayor’s eyes widened. Mikal gasped. “Wow,” Tern breathed next to him.

  With a grim smile, the mage turned the ring on the mayor’s finger. “Speak,” he said.

  The mayor turned to the crowd. ”Quiet!”

  His voice blasted out, causing the crowd’s conversations to come to an abrupt stop. The mayor seemed the most surprised of all. He staggered, and might have toppled into the well if Nekos hadn’t reached out a hand to steady him.

  The mayor flinched at Nekos’ touch. Mikal saw a look of displeasure flicker across the mage’s face before his features smoothed. He waved a hand to the crowd, apparently indicating that the mayor should continue speaking.

  Clearing his throat, the mayor spoke, his voice booming through the square. “Now, it has been reported that a dragon was indeed spotted by the Hurley’s farm…”

  “Who reported it?” the baker demanded.

  “Old man Hurley,” the mayor replied. “The dragon apparently made off with two of his cattle.”

  “Was he sober?” the baker asked. “Because if you don’t mind my saying so, Hurley’s fond of his ale.”

  Amid the chuckles that rippled through the crowd came Hurley’s outraged voice. “I know what I saw!”

  “Was it red?” the baker asked. “Like the one before?”

  The mayor shook his head. “It is a different one. Smaller, and according to Hurley, black as night.”

  “I’m still not convinced,” the baker grumbled loud enough for Mikal to hear.

  Nekos cleared his throat. “The dragon is real,” he called out. “I have seen it myself.”

  The mayor turned and goggled at the mage. “You said nothing!”

  Nekos waved a hand. “I was going to – but Master Hurley spotted the dragon and came to you first. I am merely corroborating his report.”

  Nekos’ words sent an unhappy murmur through the crowd. Mikal tried to think about what he knew of dragons in general. His father once warned him not to listen to all of the stories, because fancy had mixed in with fact over time. But how could he not be fascinated by the creatures? Even at his age, the story of his father’s encounter still thrilled him.

  “What are we to do?” the younger midwife called out. Although the day was pleasantly warm, Mikal saw she trembled as she clutched a light blue shawl around her shoulders. “Most of our fighters are gone to war. How will we rid ourselves of this beast?”

  The mayor rubbed his face with a shaking hand. “I realize
that. Right now, we need to exercise caution. I’m going to send word to the king – mayhap he can send us some aid.”

  “And what are we to do in the meantime?” Hurley demanded. “Wait for it to burn us out of house and home?”

  “Are you volunteering to slay the dragon, Master Hurley?” Nekos asked, sounding sincere. “We would most appreciate it.”

  Mikal craned his neck and spotted Old Man Hurley, whose weathered face was pink. “Very funny, mage. Why don’t you go after the thing? Magic up something destructive and save the town?”

  Nekos frowned. “I would if I could, but dragons are naturally resistant to magic. I cannot fight the dragon alone.”

  A brief silence fell after the mage’s words. Mikal heard rustling behind him, an occasional cough. But no one offered to kill the dragon.

  Tern bounced on the balls of his feet, his red curls bobbing. “Wouldn’t you like to fight the thing?” he asked Mikal in a low voice. “We’d be heroes.”

  Mikal nodded. “And we’d be rich. Everyone knows that dragons have treasure.” The red that had been driven off had left a largish amount of gold and precious stones in its lair. The king had taken most of it, but according to his father, their family had lived two years on what he was permitted to keep.

  “Rich,” Tern repeated with a grin. “Maybe we’d get to it before the king did.”

  Mikal nodded. As he stepped forward, his mouth open to volunteer, the mayor, who’d been having a whispered conversation with Nekos, straightened up. “Everyone, return to your day. Be cautious. If there is one who will volunteer to ride to Frex and alert the king, I would appreciate it.”

  “We’ll fight it!” Mikal called out. “Tern and me. And anyone who’ll come with us.”

  The mayor stared at Mikal, his mouth hanging open. There was dead silence in the crowd for a long moment. Mikal felt himself begin to sweat.

  Then someone chuckled. The merry sound spread, and soon the entire crowd seemed to be caught up in it. The mayor joined in, his face getting redder. Nekos, on the other hand, appeared to study Mikal, as if seeing him for the first time.

  Mikal felt his face grow hot. “I’m serious!”

  The town cleric stepped forward, no longer laughing. “Mikal, no one can deny your spirit or your sincerity – but you aren’t strong enough for this. And you lads aren’t trained. All that would be accomplished would be your painful deaths.”

  The laughter died down at the cleric’s words. Mikal looked at Tern, who was biting his lip. He glanced through the crowd, spotting his other friends. None of them would meet his gaze.

  He glared at his feet, his hands tightening into fists. Despite the cleric’s kind words, he felt ashamed. He wasn’t good enough to protect his family like his father.

  The mayor spoke up. “I still need that volunteer…”

  There were some murmurs and finally the blacksmith’s apprentice, a lad two years older than Mikal and Tern, agreed to go. At further urging from the mayor, the crowd began to disperse, a number of excited conversations piercing the unease that had settled over the town.

  Mikal glanced back by the well, where Nekos stood alone, the mayor now talking with the apprentice a small way off. Nekos looked over at Mikal and Tern and studied them for a moment.

  Tern noticed it too. “What’s he looking at?” he asked Mikal.

  Shrugging, Mikal decided to return the stare. To his surprise, Nekos gestured for him to come closer.

  Tern’s eyes widened. “Now what?”

  “Let’s find out,” Mikal said, sounding braver than he felt. The two boys walked to where Nekos stood, his hands folded into his black robes.

  Mikal wondered what was in the pouches that hung from the black woven belt the mage wore. He tried not to wrinkle his nose – as always, Nekos smelled like something that was dying or had just died. Mixed with the scent of sage and rosemary, it wasn’t pleasant.

  Nekos spoke softly. “You could also be of aid to the town.”

  “You heard the mayor,” Mikal said, his voice filled with bitterness. “We can’t fight.”

  The mage shook his head. “There is something even more important. The dragon keeps something far more valuable than gold or jewels in its hoard. If I could acquire it, I could create a spell powerful enough to destroy it.”

  Tern snorted. “How can we do that?”

  “You are not large like the adults. I have watched you. Unlike them, or many of your peers, you can go where many can’t.”

  Mikal frowned. Yes, thanks to the wasting disease, his growing had been interrupted. The cleric promised he would catch up in time. And Tern, despite being taller than Mikal, was skinny as a tree branch. His friends wondered if he ever ate; he never seemed to gain weight.

  “But we don’t know where the lair is, do we?” Mikal asked.

  “I have an idea about that,” Nekos said. “And I would give you magic rings that would render you invisible. You would simply go in, gather the spell components, and bring them to me.”

  Mikal and Tern swapped skeptical glances. “It sounds like something you could do,” Tern said. “So why don’t you?”

  Nekos huffed. “I am not talking about walking in the front entrance – even with invisibility that would be suicide. No, there is a smaller entrance to the cave – one I cannot get into, but I believe you could.”

  Mikal was tempted, but it seemed as if the mage were holding something back. As if sensing Mikal’s thoughts, Nekos lowered his voice more. “The dragon will continue to loot the town. Soon it might not be content with the occasional ox. Unless we act quickly, it could well burn Shule to ash. I have seen dragons do this. They are pitiless.”

  Mikal shivered at the mage’s words. He looked at Tern, who shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you think, Mikal?”

  “You would have my gratitude – and that of the town of course,” Nekos murmured. “And there would be treasure for the taking. Enough to satisfy the greediest soul.”

  “I’m not greedy,” Mikal protested.

  “I did not mean to imply that,” Nekos said. “But you wouldn’t mind some gold for your pocket now, would you?”

  “I wouldn’t,” Tern said.

  Mikal thought about the worry lines that had appeared on his mother’s face after his father went to war. Getting rid of the dragon and perhaps grabbing enough gold to see them through until his father returned would go a long way to clearing them. “All right,” he said to Nekos. “I’ll help.”

  “So will I,” Tern said.

  Nekos smiled. While his voice had warmth to it the mage’s smile seemed to chase the sun away. “Meet me here in an hour. I will show you where to go. And I wouldn’t worry your parents with this. They might forbid the attempt.”

  Mikal was sure his mother would object. He’d already planned to say nothing. He nodded to Nekos, who left the two boys standing by the well.

  “So,” Tern said. “You scared?”

  “Of course not,” Mikal said, trying to ignore how his stomach clenched. “You?”

  His face pale, Tern shook his head. “Naw, I’m fine. What do you want to do?”

  Mikal noticed some women approaching the well with water jars. He jerked his head towards the market stalls. “Let’s get something to eat. Maybe check out the temple, see who’s there?”

  Tern bit his lip. “You think we could pray to the gods while we’re there? You know, just for some added help.”

  “Yeah,” Mikal said, glad Tern had suggested it before he did. “Let’s do that.”

  # # #

  An hour later Mikal and Tern returned to the well. Women stood around it, filling their water jars from the wooden bucket that lowered into the well’s depths. Some little kids were running around, apparently not bothered by the news of a dragon in the neighborhood. Mikal saw several of them with wooden sticks, chasing a dog that darted between his legs and almost tripped him up.

  “Hey, cut it out,” he said, grabbing one of the kids by the arm. “Why are you going af
ter the seamstress’s dog?”

  “That’s a dragon!” the little boy shouted, his eyes bright. The other boy and girl with him nodded enthusiastically.

  Mikal rolled his eyes. Kids. “That’s not a dragon. And if Mistress Darning catches you bothering her dog she’ll go after you with her broom.”

  “Aw, he got away,” the girl said, lowering her stick. “You made us lose him, you mean boy!”

  “Come on,” the first boy said, shaking Mikal’s hand off him. “We’ll find another dragon.”

  Mikal watched the children run off. For some reason he thought of his father’s scars and he shivered. Real dragons were not fun. They were dangerous.

  And he and Tern were going to sneak into one’s lair? Were they crazy?

  Tern nudged him. Nekos stood off to the side, near the mayor’s white two-story house. He gestured for the boys to come over.

  Hoping they weren’t making a big mistake, Mikal and Tern went over to the mage. Nekos turned without a word and walked away from the town square. Mikal and Tern followed.

  It wasn’t long before they were out of the town proper. They walked by Hurley’s farm, and Mikal caught a whiff of fresh hay as they passed near the fields. Bluebells nodded in the sun and bees hovered over the flowers.

  Mikal pulled an apple from his pocket and ate it as they approached the foothills that lay south of Shule. He knew there were numerous caves in the hills and wondered if one of them truly held a dragon.

  They crossed a shallow, slow moving stream, the water icy as it splashed on Mikal’s sandaled feet. He would’ve stopped to drink but Nekos didn’t pause, just continued on, apparently believing the boys would follow him no matter what.

  Once they came to the foothills, Nekos led them east a short distance and then stopped. Putting a slender finger to his lips, he crouched behind a large stone and waved the boys closer. Mikal and Tern joined him, dropping to their knees so they could hide as well.