“Tide?” Teetering on the ledge in exhaustion, Damara called down into the darkness. The Wizard’s torch didn’t shed enough light for her to see the dragon curled up inside the cave. “Tide, please tell me you’re alright!”
No reply came.
Don’t panic, Damara told herself, the tygen berries’ magic having worn off. He’s fine. The sea serpent didn’t get him before. It didn’t get him now.
They were well into the night. She could see the bright moon reflecting off the water down below, rippling. She trembled, imagining the sea serpent under the surface.
She envisioned it stretching out to lock its jaws around Tide, pulling him into the water, drowning him, thrashing him. She imagined it mutilating him like Chasm’s dead body.
No! Tide is fine! He’s fine.
“Can’t you use your magic?” Damara lifted her weary, fearful gaze to the Wizard. “Can’t you do something to help- at least until Tyrone comes?”
The Wizard passed a hand over his face, dragging even more knotted, greying hair into his eyes. “I haven’t been able to craft anything since Aspen died,” he said. “Not without her fire.”
Aspen? Damara recalled the rotting dragon’s corpse heaped beside the Wizard’s broken shelter. “How did she die?” she whispered hoarsely.
“The firesap overtook her…drove her mad. It takes all the firebreathers in the end. I couldn’t help her.”
Drove her mad? Memories of Hasten hit her, how he had come after her, eyes rolling and muscles shuddering. How the flames had flashed from between his gnashing teeth.
That’s what happened, she realized. The firesap overtook him.
But Lynx…when will he be overcome?
What will we do then?
Despite her anxiety, Damara had trouble keeping her eyes open. The hatchling yawned like a pup in her arms, vocalizing a high, thin note. So much worry strained her and she sat down in fear of collapsing with fatigue.
You’re the only one I can protect now, she thought, drowsily touching the black crown of the hatchling’s head. Everything else is out of my hands.
. . .
“Damara.”
Damara awoke to a male voice and panicked as something touched her on the shoulder. She sat bolt upright, staring up in dread of seeing Chasm risen from the dead.
But no. Chasm wouldn’t have called her by name.
Instead, her eyes met those of a friend.
“Tyrone.” Her face crumpled in overwhelmed relief as she spoke his name. Tears blurred her vision. “Is Tide alright?” she asked, terrified of what his answer might be.
“Yes, yes,” Tyrone assured her. “He and the clutch are aboveground now.”
Damara blinked away the tears to look around. She saw Tide laying not far off, exhaustedly responding to Rosefinch’s persistent questions.
Iris’ eggs were gathered at the base of a nearby tree, whole and round. Lynx laughed at the black hatchling that hugged the Wizard’s leg like a bear cub, making it hard for the man to walk.
Is it really over? Damara could scarcely believe it.
I can go back home?
“Damara?” Tyrone prompted her.
“What?” She swiveled to face him, worried that something else might be wrong.
“I asked if you’re alright,” he repeated, looking her in the eye.
“Oh,” Damara hugged her knees, feeling queasy as she relived yesterday’s events. “I’m fine,” she mumbled, but it felt like a lie.
Tyrone’s gaze lingered on her face a moment longer, only making her more uneasy. He seemed to sense her discomfort, for he looked away. Ivory came to land on his forearm and he stroked the newly restored wyvern, smiling.
“It’s about time we get that clutch back to my house, where it will be safe. What about you, Damara?” he asked, catching her gaze. “Where is the place you call home?”
Home? By now, the word felt foreign to her. She tried to remember Catherine’s father’s house, the place she and her brother were allowed to stay, but it all felt so deep in the past. Like another life, even.
How long have I been away? she dared ask herself. A year? Two?
Damara didn’t want to believe it. She choked up with emotion, wanting to answer Tyrone without falling to bits. She wiped her tears away, scornful as they were replaced by yet another fresh wave.
Haven’t I cried enough?
“So the question is-” Rosefinch raised her voice, giving Damara a reason to turn her face away from Tyrone. “How could Iris think it was a good idea to lay her clutch so close to that serpent? Was she really that daft?”
“She wanted a guard dog,” Lynx snorted.
I wouldn’t be surprised if she wanted the eggs to be eaten, Damara thought spitefully, the tears drying from her cheeks. That wretch probably couldn’t bear having to compete for Chasm’s attention.
“What matters now is that the clutch is safe,” Tyrone said, heaving to his feet. Damara could tell just by the way he walked over to the eggs that his strength was waning.
“Clyde?”
Damara looked up at the surprise in Rosefinch’s voice.
There stood Clyde, a dead deer in his jaws.
With a fwump he dropped the carcass. “Why, hello,” he hummed. “Fancy seeing you all here.”
‘Why, hello?’ Damara stiffened in anger. Where were you when Tide and I were in danger?
“Hey,” Lynx buzzed, slinking closer to the silvery dragon, eyes fastened on the deer. “I’d never turn down a fresh lump of venison.”
Clyde laughed merrily. “Sorry, Friend. I’m afraid the sea serpent needs it more.”
“You’re feeding that thing?” Rosefinch balked.
“But, of course,” Clyde replied, sunlight gleaming off his metallic-like scales. “I’ve brought something by every couple of weeks since Wolfe dropped him there. Ah, he was a wee little thing then. Wolfe had challenged a She-Serpent, snatching her young just to provoke her. But when Wolfe returned for a second youngling, the She-Serpent was prepared. Oh, how I’d love to tell that story…”
I’m sure you would, Damara thought irritably. You’re entire life runs on others’ stories.
Lynx’s eyes lit up as he crowed, “I heard it wasn’t much of a fight, that Wolfe was snapped, dragged under and bashed against the rocks before she could spit a single flame!”
“Ah…yes,” Clyde agreed, looking rather disappointed to have his story cut short.
Damara thanked Lynx silently.
“Sea serpents are terribly rare, you know,” Clyde said, dragging the deer over to the gaping hole in the ground. “I didn’t try to relocate this little one for fear of harming him. He’s grown so much now that I couldn’t do it even if I tried, not by myself. I feel sorry for him, though.”
Damara’s face grew sour. We’ve been risking our lives for each other, and you’ve been feeding water monsters?!
“My!” Clyde exclaimed, staring down the hole. “Is that Chasm I see? Looks like the serpent made a meal out of him. So much for that deer I brought.
“Amazing,” he continued. “This is the place where Chasm chose his name as a youngling. We came upon it and he stared down inside, turning his shining eyes up at me to ask, ‘What do you call this, Clyde?’”
No, stop, Damara pleaded silently. Stop making him sound like a person!
“I suppose he was drawn to the immenseness of it all, the sheer drop,” Clyde rambled. “To him, it must have held a sense of power. Humans would best understand the feeling. They’re small and flightless, like Chasm was at the time.
“But how fitting for him to die here!” he declared. “What a perfect portrayal of his hubris…dying within his namesake, the image he held for himself…it’s poetic.”
Damara nearly gagged. Clyde doesn’t need the firesap to drive him mad.
“Damara’s the one who killed him,” Lynx sounded as though he were boasting on her behalf.
“Truly?” Clyde inquired, gazing at her in great curiosity. “Oh, how I
’d love to tell your story, Damara.”
Well then, prepare to be disappointed.
“How did you do it?” Clyde pressed and she gritted her teeth. Everyone hushed around her.
“He was going to kill Tide, so I stabbed him,” she answered as plainly as possible.
“You hear that, Tyrone?” Lynx called over his shoulder. “She was just fine without me!”
Damara looked back at Tyrone, who gave no response. He was slumped against the tree, eyes closed, chest rising and falling.
“First time he’s slept since the attack on Swaineford!” Lynx jested.
Rosefinch snorted in amusement.
Clyde swiveled his charming eyes to look at her on one side of him, Lynx on the other. “You know,” he murmured, “soon this sea serpent will outgrow his little cave and die…unless we do something about it first.”
Rosefinch gawked at him, “You can’t possibly mean-”
“Yes!” Lynx interrupted her, enthralled. “Let’s do it now! Tyrone doesn’t even have to know.”
“Fine.” Rosefinch grinned. “Couldn’t be too hard, now could it?”
“Are you serious?!” Damara nearly yelled at them. “Do you not see Chasm down there? All I did was shove the blade into his skull. Everything else is the serpent’s doing!”
“Have a little faith, Damara,” Rosefinch replied, a smile on her face. “A dead dragon is a defenseless dragon, but we’re not dead yet, now are we?”
Lynx’s entire body shivered with excitement.
They’re all insane! Damara exasperated, watching as the three dragons dove into the cave.
They ducked and darted around the sea serpent, which coiled in the water, striking out at them. Chasm’s mutilated body was washed up into the shallows, rocking slightly in the waves.
Lynx blasted a few flames into the serpent’s face and it spat in agony.
“Don’t hurt him!” Clyde cried aloud, dodging so as not to be whipped by the serpent’s tail whizzing past. “He’s terribly rare!”
“So am I!” Lynx growled, but breathed no more fire.
After a short time of close-quarter conflict, it became clear that the dragons weren’t going to succeed in grabbing hold of the thrashing beast, let alone lug it to the sea. One by one, the dragons retreated aboveground, panting as they gazed down at the hissing serpent.
“Oh, it just isn’t right,” Clyde lamented. “The world couldn’t bear the loss of another sea serpent!”
The world or you? Damara sneered.
“Why, Damon!” Clyde declared, turning to the Wizard. “You could make a potion, one to subdue the sea serpent just long enough for us to fly him out.”
Damon? Damara thought. She hadn’t even considered that the Wizard would have any name at all.
Damon lifted his head with his hair in his face. There was no telling what he was looking at, or if he could even see, for that matter.
“The magics won’t fuse,” he declined in sorrowful tones. “Not without dragon fire to-” He cut himself off, lifting shaggy hair from his face to stare at Lynx. “You have the firesap inside of you…”
Lynx smirked, breathing out with flames unfolding from his lips. “What would a volcano be without its lava?”
“A mountain,” Rosefinch muttered.
The Wizard limped over to Lynx with the hatchling around his leg, still gawking at him. “With your flame, I could craft potions again…”
“Splendid,” Clyde opined. “Could you start with one for the serpent?”
. . .
Rosefinch flew with Damon in the saddle, off to find his cauldron. Lynx whisked after them, ready to lend a flame or two.
They left the hatchling with Damara. She held him in her arms, unable to stop herself from smiling as he nosed her, grunting like a darling little piglet.
So you are Chasm and Iris’ child. What will you grow up to be like?
“By the Gift of Fire!” Clyde exclaimed, approaching her.
Damara sighed. What now?
“What a precious hatchling,” the glimmering dragon admired. “Never before have I seen a dragon’s hide such a rare color as that.”
She furrowed her brow, looking up at him. “Black?”
“Ah, yes,” he chuckled. “Pardon my forgetfulness. Naturally, it would look black to you because you’re a human. But to a dragon’s eyes, well, it’s a different color entirely. I can’t even describe it.”
“The color?” she repeated after him, troubled. “What do you call it?”
Clyde’s eyes glitzed with passion. “The color of the firesap flower,” he breathed. “This is the first time I’ve seen it since the firesap plants went extinct.”
Damara looked down at the hatchling. He just looks so…black. Why would dragons see him differently?
Tide stirred, awakening from his sleep and rested his chin on his foreclaws with a sigh. Damara went to him.
“How are you feeling?” she asked anxiously.
The teal dragon smiled wearily up at her. “Much better, thanks to you. Is the hatchling alright?”
She grinned, holding the little one out for him to see. The hatchling wriggled until she held him close again, where he nestled within her arms, snuffling in contentment.
Damara took a deep breath.
“Is that meat?” Tide asked, hungry eyes staring ahead at the deer carcass lying a ways off. “I haven’t eaten for so long.”
She got the hatchling to grasp her belt, trotting over to the deer. Tide met her half way as she dragged the carcass from the cave’s ledge. She stood back, humored by the dragon’s sudden ravenous energy as he tore into the carrion.
Damara smiled, looking back at Tyrone, who breathed deeply with mouth slightly open.
I wonder if any of the other eggs are hatching. Quiet so as not to wake him, she went to kneel beside the clutch. From what she could see, no fractures split the glossy shells.
“You can see magic?” Rosefinch’s laugh carried through the sky. “What does that even mean?!” Damara gazed up to see her and Lynx land on the ground. The Wizard dismounted Rosefinch, a leather flask in his hand.
A potion?
Damara watched as he soaked a rag with it. Lynx volunteered to be the one to get it in the serpent’s mouth and the Wizard hooked the dripping rag onto his claw.
They can’t possibly…
The Wizard stood at the top of the Earthen Cauldron, peering down as Clyde, Rosefinch, and Lynx all dove inside once again.
There was hissing, shouting, a bit of Lynx’s maniacal laughing, and then- a cheer.
Damara’s mouth gaped as Rosefinch appeared from the hole, struggling to beat her wings, a labored look on her face.
She had the sea serpent behind the head. Clyde rose up gripping its middle, and Lynx appeared bringing up the rear. At least a dragon’s length of serpent sagged between them as they pounded their wings, straining their necks in effort.
Like a frightful, six-winged monster huffing through the air, the three dragons hauled the drooping serpent towards the coast. Damara stared after them, unable to believe her eyes as they disappeared over the cliffs.
Did that just happen?
Ivory swooped in, landing on Tyrone’s shoulder, causing him to stir in his sleep.
The wyvern made a sound like the sob of a man, followed by, “For treason against Wystil, I hereby banish you, Tyrone the Woodsman, that you may never enter this kingdom again.”
The King?! Damara could hear how deeply upset his voice was. Did Tyrone hear that? She leaned forward to see the drowsing man. He was still in the same position, but she could see his eyelids slowly part, so she hurriedly stood up.
Pretend like you didn’t hear anything, she told herself, walking away without a glance backwards.
“Forget that one for me, Ivory, won’t you?” She heard Tyrone sigh heavily behind her.
Can she do that? Damara wondered, sitting with her back against a moss covered tree. She sunk farther into the trunk and ya
wned. Only when Tyrone spoke again did she sneak a look back at him.
With his head in one hand and Ivory perched on the other, he uttered something softly. Damara thought at first he was talking to himself, but it sounded too deliberate. Feeling a little guilty, she listened in, with shallow breath and eyes to the ground.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it’s been so long…but I have to make this quick. The threat is gone now. All our enemies have been killed.”
Who’s he sending a message to?
Tyrone’s voice grew hoarse and she struggled to make out the next few words. “…I know he thinks the kingdom’s still in…” Damara strained her ears. “…I’m afraid for the dragons…”
Afraid for the dragons? Why?
“…have a plan. Please, come quickly, if you can.”
Damara dared to glance up as Tyrone sent Ivory into the air and rubbed his face. He started as though struck by something else and turned to watch the wyvern fly away.
I thought everything was fine. What’s the matter now?
Chapter 31