Now he scanned for Fion or Ellie. Fion’s head popped up above the crowd with her crazy wide grin and sparkling eyes. Thomas made his way across the hall. Here and there, whispers reached him. “The Otherlander.”
“He rides the Pale Dragon.”
“The prophecies must be true.”
Thomas settled beside Fion and Ellie. Across the hall, Shepherd stood and lifted his voice. “To the Creator, we are grateful for his protection and provision.” The community offered the customary affirmation, “So be it!” And with that, one by one, people took up their utensils and enjoyed their meal.
“I’m tired of this whole Otherlander thing,” said Thomas.
“Just because you’re blind to the reality doesn’t mean they have to be,” replied Fion sharply.
Ellie handed a plate of bread to Thomas with a nod. He took a roll and passed it on to the waiting person next to him.
Changing the subject, Thomas turned to Ellie. “Have you heard anything from Deacon and the Rangers?”
“No, but I’m sure we should have a report any day now. When my husband left, he said they would be back in a week. And so far, it’s only been four days.”
“You must be worried.”
“Being a general’s wife over these many years has trained me to be concerned, yes, but worried, no. My father taught me to cast all worry upon the Creator who cares for us. My hope for my husband is strengthened by my trust in the Creator and his kingly rule. We know that all things that come to pass are ultimately for his kingdom.”
Thomas felt a presence over his shoulder. The master of the Dragon Keep, Shepherd, leveled his cold gray eyes on the boy. Thomas couldn’t tell if he was smiling or frowning behind his bushy mustache.
“That was a serious show you put on for us today. But holding on for dear life, doesn’t make you a rider just yet. All it tells us is that you’re afraid of falling.”
Thomas nodded. He was right. “Yes, sir.”
Shepherd’s eyes sparked. “Now the real training begins.” He winked at Fion. “I’ll see you both at sunrise.”
Sixty-Six
“Good morning, Lass and Ladd!” Master Shepherd stood before them, his gray eyes sparkled and his bushy mustache twitched. Thomas couldn’t tell if he was smiling or frowning.
“Get your dragons, saddle them well, and meet me on the launching ledge.”
Thomas and Fion shared a glance.
“Now!”
The children scurried away toward the dragon stables.
“And make sure those saddles are tight!” The dragon master yelled after them.
Thomas stood before Runt’s stable, examining the little pale dragon.
“Well, I guess it’s you and me, boy.”
The dragon slowly moved forward, listening to his new master’s voice.
Thomas reached quickly to pet the dragon’s scaly head. Runt nipped at his outstretched hand and Thomas’s quick reflexes saved him from losing a finger or two.
“Hey!” Thomas glared at the little dragon. “None of that.”
Runt gave a staccato rumble that almost sounded like a chuckle.
“You think that’s funny, huh?”
Runt squealed.
Thomas calmed himself. Stretched up to his full height. Puffed out his chest. “No! I am your master.” Then he slowly reached in and as he did, Runt bowed his head and took a step forward.
Thomas stroked the scaly head of the little dragon and heard deep within its chest a soft Purr like rumble.
“Good boy. Looks like we have a big day ahead of us. Please don’t embarrass me in front of Fion.”
With that Thomas climbed into the stable, grabbed the saddle off the rail and began the serious task of saddling his dragon. First, he brushed Runt’s back. Next, he took the blanket and shook it out and inspected it for any debris that might poke the dragon’s back while riding. Satisfied, he threw it over the dragon. Thomas learned last time he was in N’albion that dragons are not horses. While a rider straddles a horse from its back, he straddles a dragon from its lower neck, allowing the rider’s legs to rest slightly ahead of the dragon’s wings.
Thomas continued with the saddle and encouraged Runt with soothing words. He got the saddle in place and everything cinched up, then gave the saddle a good pull, and it remained secure.
Thomas stepped back and admired his work.
“Not bad if I don’t say so myself.”
Runt trumpeted.
Fion sat patiently on Ember’s saddle and watched as Thomas landed Runt next to them. Runt squealed and nipped at Ember. The larger dragon glared, then roared at the little pale dragon.
“Sorry.” Thomas shrugged and pulled hard on the reins.
Fion rolled her eyes.
Shepherd stepped up and gave a slap to Runt’s haunch. The dragon turned on the dragon master in a flash and nipped at him. Shepherd’s hand snapped out like a striking cobra and grabbed Runt’s bridle, then leveled his cold gray eyes on the little dragon.
“Settle down,” he said like a mother to a squirmy toddler.
And the little dragon settled. A calmness came over him that Thomas had yet to see. Only the tip of his tail continued to twitch, like a cat’s tail with a mind of its own.
“Thomas,” Shepherd spoke with the same firm tone. “Runt senses your nerves, your excitement, your lack of confidence. Remember, you are his rider.”
“Yes, sir.” Thomas nodded.
Only then did Shepherd release Runt’s bridle, and the dragon fidgeted, but Shepherd shot another look and he ceased.
“Before you begin,” said the dragon master. “Rules.” Now Shepherd leveled his gaze on Fion. “Don’t stray too far. Stay within our borders. Remember we are still in a war. And our enemy gets ever closer.”
Thomas didn’t like to see his friend on the hot seat but maybe she deserved it. She did take Thorn and come across the universe for him. He glanced her way and saw her contrition.
Fion nodded to the Dragon Master. She understood.
“All right, then,” Shepherd said. “Today we will start with a little exercise we like call ‘Conceal and Catch’.”
Fion immediately beamed and clapped her hands.
Shepherd continued. “It’s pretty simple. Thomas, you and your dragon conceal yourself and Fion and Ember try to find you and catch you.”
Thomas laughed. “Oh, you mean ‘Hide and Seek’.”
Fion and Shepherd stared blankly at Thomas.
Shepherd continued. “First one to catch the other rider and dragon three times wins.”
Thomas thought for a moment. “Okay, so the way the game is…”
Fion smirked and nudged Ember and she launched into the air.
Thomas sat watching Ember wing away unsure of himself.
“Go!” yelled the Dragon Master and slapped Runt on the haunch. The little dragon sprung off the ledge and into the sky, almost toppling Thomas from the saddle.
Sixty-Seven
Thomas saw Fion and Ember in the distance crest a ridge. Thomas leaned into Runt and urged him on. “Come on boy, let’s get ‘em.”
Runt beat his wings furiously and winged over the ridge.
“Whoa.” Thomas pulled up on the reins and Runt stalled and then hovered like a reptilian hummingbird.
Thomas frowned. Where was she? He sat up in the saddle, straining to see any sign of the girl and her dragon. Where could she be?
He reined Runt in tight spirals and still saw nothing but the empty canyon.
“Okay. I give!” Thomas shouted. The canyon was silent except for a bird of prey somewhere calling in the distance.
Thomas shifted in the saddle.
“Ollie, Ollie oxen free!” Thomas smirked using the old children’s call.
Fion’s voice echoed up from the canyon. “I won that one.” Ember ascended from the shadows in the ravine's bottom. “Me, one. You, nothing.”
Ember landed on the rock outcropping near Thomas and Runt.
“Where were
you?” Thomas asked.
“I was in the canyon's shadow. And we were being silent. I trained Ember to still herself and meld into the rock. She looks like part of the landscape. A little longer and your eyes would have adjusted and you would have found me.” Fion shrugged. “You gave up too soon.”
Thomas smiled. “My turn. But you have to give me a head start.”
“As you wish, Thomas. I will give you few moments.”
But before she could finish Thomas nudged Runt with his heels and the little dragon burst into the sky.
Where could they hide? Thomas scanned the ravine below. The river there was a blue ribbon cutting through rock worn smooth from years of flowing water. Beautiful. Enchanting even, but nowhere to hide. He looked over his shoulder but still didn’t see Fion. It wouldn’t be long till she was after them.
“Down, Runt!”
The pale little dragon hesitated, then plunged to the river, skimming its surface, his wing tips touching the water with their rhythmic beating. Something was happening. Thomas could sense it. He and the dragon were becoming one. He leaned and almost at once Runt responded. His reaction time to Thomas’s desires was getting shorter and shorter.
Red boulders jutted from the river bed causing the river to churn in a series of foamy rapids. The spray from the river created a small rainbow. Thomas smiled and guided Runt through the mist under the rainbow. They both shook their heads, flinging sparkling droplets everywhere. The boy laughed, and Runt turned his head and barked his strange affirmation.
Thomas patted the neck of his dragon. “Okay, enough fooling around. We better find a hiding place, boy.”
That low in the ravine, Thomas couldn’t see the sun. Deep shadow hid one wall. Thomas searched. There, in the shadow, halfway up the wall, an even darker part. He nudged the dragon and Runt turned, drifting toward the wall where it jutted out in eroded waves. And there was a black hole. A cave.
“There, Runt, get us in there.”
The dragon hovered near the wall, then folding his wings, slipped into the small cave opening.
Thomas’s insides felt all jittery. Hide and seek was one of his favorite games growing up. He remembered years ago when he would hide from his dad in their small house. The hiding places were always obvious and easy for any adult to find. But he didn’t know that he was just a toddler then. His favorite place was behind the couch, knowing his dad would never find him. The anticipation would almost be unbearable and finally he would giggle, giving himself away. Then his dad would jump over the couch shouting, “I found you!” And the chase was on. It always ended with a wrestling match and Thomas laughing uncontrollably.
Thomas smiled there in the dark remembering his dad. There was that feeling again, joy mixed with sorrow. Happiness and suffering rolled up into one prickly ball in his heart. He pushed the emotions down and focused on the task at hand, keeping himself and Runt quiet.
The little dragon shifted from one foot to the next, his tail darting this way and that. Thomas felt a tremor run through the dragon’s little body beneath his saddle. Stroking his smooth scaled hide, Thomas calmed him. “It’s okay, boy. Calm down, quiet now.” It seemed to work, and they sat together in the darkness, hoping not to be found.
Fion scanned the ravine, seeing nothing. She reined Ember around over the river and along the smooth canyon walls. She remembered how she had talked about hiding in the shadows, and so she flew Ember toward the canyon wall that was hidden from the sun. But still no sign of Thomas or Runt. She turned around stretching in the saddle and then saw something. A darker patch in the shadow high on the wall below the ridge.
“Ember, glide up to that area.” Fion didn’t want to alert Thomas to their approach. The dragon followed her master’s direction. They came in quietly and hovered over the opening. Yes! It was a small cave mouth. And just as she prepared to have Ember enter, there was a shrill squeal that startled both Fion and her dragon. Runt burst from the dark opening with a flutter of wings, and Thomas leaning into the saddle. They zipped passed the larger dragon. A normal sized dragon could never have maneuvered in such a way. Fion watched in amazement as Thomas looked back with a wink and a smirk.
“No, you don’t!” Fion nudged Ember on with her heels and her scarlet dragon pumped into the sky, punishing the wind with her wings. Fion knew she would soon catch up to Thomas and overtake him. Her larger dragon had larger wings and therefore she had more thrust. It was just math. But try as she might, she couldn’t seem to close the distance between Ember and Runt. The pale little dragon’s wings were moving at such an incredible speed they were a blur. Time for a change in strategy.
Fion waited, and then it happened. Thomas looked back again to check his distance and as he turned forward, Fion pulled hard on the reins and careened into a side canyon. She knew Thomas would look back again and then not seeing her would ease up on Runt and that would allow her to overtake him.
Fion leaned hard, laying her head alongside Ember’s neck, reducing as much drag from the wind as possible. She smiled; she also had another advantage. She knew this canyon. The river’s tributary cut it, and it would soon angle back and join the broader river. That is where she would surprise him. They were almost there. Then little alarm bells went off in her head. They were also heading farther out of the Stronghold’s territory. Not a problem, maybe, but they should bring their game back toward the Dragon Keep.
There it was ahead. The smaller canyon converged with the larger one. Fion burst through and pulled up on Ember’s reins. The Dragon stalled and spun in the air. She searched the canyon, but to her shock there was no Thomas. Impossible. Could they have somehow got ahead of her? She looked up the canyon. Still nothing. It was getting colder. Ember’s sides heaved and steam came from his nostrils in white puffs. The sun must have sunk, for both sides of the canyon were in shadow now. She would need to rest soon. “Where could that boy be, Ember?”
Ember croaked and sniffed the air.
“Thomas!” Her voice echoed down the canyon.
Concern creased her young brow. She directed Ember in spirals, searching. Still no sight of her friend.
“Thomas!” she cried out again, this time her voice cracked with worry.
“Ollie, Ollie oxen free!” Thomas rose from the river on Runt, a crazy grin plastered across his face.
“Where were you?” Fion demanded. She sounded a little and desperate and didn’t like it.
“Worried?”
“No.” A beat. “Yes.”
They reined their dragons in circles in the air.
“As a matter of fact, I was.” Fion blew a strand of red hair from her face. “A little.”
Thomas smiled.
“You are the Otherlander and I can’t let anything happen to you.”
Thomas’s smile vanished. “What?”
“Thomas, please, you must accept it.”
“Accept what? You care about the precious Otherlander, but not about me. Just plain old Thomas.”
“Thomas.”
“I don’t want to be your Otherlander.” Thomas leveled his gaze on Fion. “I just want to be your friend.”
Thomas drove his heels into Runt’s side and he burst off, leaving Fion sitting dumbfounded.
Sixty-Eight
Thomas willed Runt to fly faster and faster. He heard Fion’s voice faintly behind him.
“Thomas, not that way! You are leaving the Stronghold’s territory!”
He didn’t care. The old anger was rising and filled his mind like a red fog, making it impossible to think clearly.
He snuck a glance over his shoulder and could barely make out Fion on Ember following in the darkness. He pulled on Runt’s reins and directed the dragon into a side canyon. He just had to get away. He flew on, driven by his irrational rage. He knew down deep he wasn’t thinking straight, but he didn’t care. He wanted to be home. He wasn’t anyone’s savior. Why was God doing all this? He flew on through the twisting, turning canyon that was like his twisting, turning heart.
A shriek turned his blood cold. Before he had time to react, something slammed into him like a bus with wings. And he was falling. He pulled on the reins. “Runt!” But the little dragon was unconscious, out cold. His wings fluttered uselessly as the dragon and his boy dropped from the sky. Thomas looked up and saw the dark form of a black beast, its bat-like wings stretched wide and astride it sat a shadow warrior. Its eyes burned like coals from out of its metal helm, watching him fall.
Runt and Thomas smacked the river hard, then sunk beneath the icy rapids.
The current pushed them farther down the river and deposited them among piles of driftwood and boulders. Thomas pulled himself onto the rocky beach behind a large boulder and wretched up a stomach full of water then turned immediately to Runt. He was breathing. Good. At least he wasn’t dead. Thomas scanned the sky and saw the silhouette of the shadow warrior’s beast soar over, searching. It must have lost track of them in the dark waves and foams of the rapids.
“Runt.” Thomas whispered urgently, stroking the little dragon’s head.
The dragon came to with a start, like waking from a bad dream. He started to squeal.
“No, boy. I am here.”
The dragon’s eye dilated, then focused on his new master and calmed.
Thomas heard the concussion of wings as the shadow warrior’s black beast landed on the backside of the boulder. Thomas lay still in the darkness, trying not to shiver and failing.
Then, to his horror, another shadow warrior on its beast glided over and landed.
The beasts croaked and snapped at each other.
Behind the boulder, Thomas strained to listen. Boots crunched on gravel as the warrior approached. Then the shadow warrior’s dark hissing speech reached him as they spoke.
“I hit them hard with my beast and they fell into the river.”
“Where are they now?”
“I lost them in the darkness and the churning waters.”
“You will find them or it will be both our heads.”
Otherlander: Through the Storm Page 14