These locks must go, Damara decided as her long, tangled hair got caught in a tree branch. She whipped out her dagger and began slicing away at it, cutting it shorter by the handful. Light brown hair fell at her feet and clung to twigs of the branch. A warm breeze fluttered the dress she’d scavenged from a deserted town.
Chasm walked past her, snorting in amusement. “You look like a one-antlered deer with that little blade,” he laughed, narrowing his eyes at the dagger in her hand.
You have no idea where this ‘little blade’ even came from, Damara thought. You wouldn’t be laughing then if you did.
She tossed the last of her loose hair into the wind, walking away without a word. Wreckage littered the barren street. This town was located in upper Wystil, across the river from the castle. Most of the buildings were burnt-black heaps of rubble from the time the Strong Pack had attacked it.
They’ve invaded so many towns, I can’t even remember when this one was destroyed.
Some of the towns hadn’t even been attacked before the civilians left. Damara wondered where all the commoners went.
They’d never get past the bridge, she knew. Chasm kept a guard posted there at all times, making it impossible for any human to cross over Swaine River to the other side.
Whenever the Dragon Knight appeared, Chasm would call a retreat, knowing well that the Strong Pack was outmatched. Yet, on their return, they would find the town abandoned. No Dragon Knight. No survivors. It was as though they had all disappeared, leaving behind the ruins of their town.
Spring had warmed into summer. Now, with all of upper Wystil seemingly abandoned, Damara wondered if Chasm was going to target the towns closer to the castle, or maybe even the castle itself. King Chadwick’s army hadn’t made another appearance since the Strong Pack decimated them at Swaineford.
How long has it been since that happened? Damara tried to recall, but the days just melted into one another. She didn’t want to think about it as she sat under the ruins of yet another broken house.
There was a stale piece of scavenged bread in her satchel and she took it out, tearing off the crust with her teeth, relishing its tough resistance as she chewed.
“Don’t curl your lip at me, you useless monigon,” Veer’s voice rumbled like thunder outside.
Damara snuck to the doorway of her shelter.
The dragon was standing rigid in the road, facing Iris, whose scales bristled at the insult.
The spark-like spots that dappled her magenta hide were brighter than the old blossoms that sprinkled from the trees. In this devastated town, Iris stood out like a ripe apple on a winter bare tree.
“How dare you call me that, you jealous buzzard!” Iris shrilled.
“Jealous?” Veer growled, cocking her bulky head menacingly. “Of you?! You spend all your time fawning over Chasm while Hasten and I guard the bridge. You hide like a coward while the rest of us fight the ones that stand in our way. That human is more useful than you.”
Iris gasped, nostrils flaring. “Don’t compare me to filth!”
Filth?! Damara stepped out of the house for a better view.
Chasm arrived on the scene, no doubt attracted by Iris’ piercing wails. He alighted next to her. “What is all this yelling about?” he asked in a disapproving voice.
“Your pairing was just realizing how useless she is,” Veer answered sourly.
Iris scoffed, looking to Chasm, clearly expecting him to defend her.
He paused a moment, thinking.
“I will catch a human for you,” Chasm told her finally. “And it can ride on your back so that you may have the advantage when the Dragon Knight confronts us.”
The advantage? wondered Damara.
Iris stood erect and indignant. “I am not carrying a human on my back.”
“The defenders are afraid of hurting-” He cut himself off as he saw Damara standing there. “Of hurting themselves,” he finished after a pause, eyes searching the sky. “They obviously think that riders make a dragon even more dangerous.”
What? Damara furrowed her brow. That can’t be true. She studied Chasm, trying to figure out what he meant. He kept his lips taut in a subtle frown.
Damara caught Iris’ eye and they glared at each other for a few moments.
“Tomorrow, I will catch you a child,” Chasm told his pairing. “And you,” he stared down Damara, “will teach it how to ride her.”
Before anyone could object, he beat the air with his wings and flew away.
Iris watched him go with a scowl. Damara slunk back into the house, thinking over what was just said.
He’s going to kidnap another child? She sat against a crumbling wall, gritting her teeth. They’ll die of fright. No one else can handle this life. It’s my punishment. No one else should have to suffer it.
And what was the reason he gave? She studied her ring, trying to remember Chasm’s words, ‘They obviously think that riders make a dragon even more dangerous…’
Surely he doesn’t believe that. It’s ridiculous. Anyone could see that I’m as helpless as a kit in the jaws of a dog. I’m a burden to him, if anything.
No, she realized, eyes opening wide. I’m his protection!
The Dragon Knight never comes close enough to fight Chasm because…because he’s afraid of hurting me! The Dragon Knight and his allies…they’re concerned for my safety!
With growing excitement, she thought, Chasm knows it, too! He lied when he saw me because he’s afraid that I’ll run off to join the Dragon Knight.
It all makes sense.
Damara touched the sheathed dagger at her side, amazed.
The Dragon Knight…he cares about me?
. . .
Damara’s short hair ruffled in the wind as she once again rode Chasm. Iris flew beside him, looking just as unhappy as Damara felt. The two dragons hung low in the air, gliding over desolate towns and empty fields. Damara could see Chasm’s head sweeping back and forth as he searched the land below, like a hawk hunting for prey.
Why is he looking here for a child? she wondered. The whole area is abandoned. What can he possibly expect to find?
But just as those thoughts ran through her head, she noticed Chasm grow tense beneath her. She peered down to follow his sharp gaze as they descended on a small, sooty village. Only one house was left standing, perched on a hill. A horse tethered nearby neighed in alarm at the approaching dragons.
A horse? Who does it belong to? Nobles?
Damara thought she saw movement inside the house and nervously twisted the ring around her finger.
What are people still doing here?! She bit her lip. Please don’t let there be any children.
Not far from the house, Chasm alighted behind a crumbling wall on light, soundless toes. Iris did the same, grimacing distastefully.
“Get off,” Chasm hissed at Damara and she slipped down. Next thing she knew, he was pushing her out into the open with the crown of his head, growling, “Lure them out.”
“What?” She turned to him but he was gone, having slunk his way deeper into the rubble.
Iris still stood there, though, curling her lip back.
“Neither of us want this,” Damara tried reasoning with her. “Why don’t you refuse?”
The garish dragon sneered from behind the wall. “Just do what Chasm tells you, slave,”
Damara seethed.
“Hey! Who are you?”
Damara spun around to see a young, blonde haired boy looking at her. She froze, for, perched on the doorway directly above him, was Chasm, staring keenly down at the child.
The boy was clearly unaware.
“Baxter!”
A bearded man appeared from inside the house, gripping the boy’s shoulder. His eyes squinted to scrutinize Damara. “You!” he gasped. “The Dragon Witch! Baxter, get behind me!”
With a hasty yank, he got the boy back inside before planting himself in the doorway like a guard. Stunned, Damara couldn’t utter a word as Chasm tore the thatched roo
f off the house, snarling like a mad dog. Baxter’s scream came from inside and the man rushed to the boy’s aid.
Damara couldn’t see what was going on until the boy came running out.
Chasm emerged from the broken in roof like a snake from its hole, eyes locked on the child.
Limping through the doorway, the man yelled as the dragon leapt in front of the fleeing boy. Baxter, however, changed direction right before he was caught. He was bolting for the horse, but Damara could tell he wouldn’t reach it in time.
I have to do something! Damara saw her chance as Baxter ran in front of her. She tackled him just as Chasm was about to pounce, wrapping her arms around the child as they tumbled down the hill.
“Baxter!”
Damara could hear the man cry out as her world spun. Splinters embedded themselves into her arms and legs. She thought she heard something snap underneath her. She couldn’t stop her or the boy’s rolling if she tried.
When the ground finally flattened out enough for them to slow to a halt, she dizzily got to her knees and blocked Baxter from view. Her head was swimming, but she could see the huddled boy was trembling. He whimpered and Damara hissed at him to be quiet.
“You caught him?” Chasm’s voice rumbled from atop the slope. “Show me.”
“He’s dead,” Damara lied quickly, keeping her back to the dragon as she sensed him drawing nearer.
What do I do?! she asked herself, scared stiff as she realized she didn’t have a plan. Baxter was silent, fear in his eyes.
Galloping hooves sounded before her. Damara looked up to see the man arrive on horseback. “Get on!” he shouted to the boy.
Damara hurriedly helped the child to his feet and pushed him towards the horse. She saw the man haul him up into the saddle and gallop away. The moment Damara spun around, she found herself facing Chasm. She could see his eyes narrow past her as the sound of hoof beats faded.
Standing at the top of the slope was Iris. “I don’t want any human that slave of yours touches,” she whined. “Catch me a different one.”
Damara still expected Chasm to chase after the child, but instead, he rammed his massive head into her. She gasped, doubling over, struck in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of her and she fell backward, wheezing.
“Do that again and I’ll kill you.” Chasm gnashed his teeth an inch away from Damara’s face. Scrutinizing her still gasping for air, he growled, “Wait here,” and flew away. Iris followed after him.
With the dragons gone, Damara rolled onto her side, shaking and coughing. She folded her arms into her middle, her stomach throbbing in pain.
. . .
By dusk, Damara entered the empty house. Her body still ached but at least now she could stand.
That man called me a witch, she remembered dismally, pulling out her flint and dagger as she saw the stove inside. Is that what all the Wystilians see me as?
Why does the Dragon Knight see me any different…or does he?
Am I wrong to think he cares about me at all?
Am I a witch in everyone’s eyes?
Chapter 14