Gavin? Rib watched his old friend coming down the bright marble hall. He looked prosperous, dressed in rich blue attire, a dozen instruments floating about his presence.
Hello, Rib, the young man said with a grin. I see victory is yours. This is Memory, then?
Yes! Rib answered as his sister swam through the air to meet them. This is her.
At long last, Memory, Gavin greeted the merry dragon, plucking his flute from the air. Cheers to you and your newfound freedom.
With his lips to the mouth of the instrument, he began to play a happy tune, the prettiest Rib had ever heard, and they danced like the days they were Dragon Fools. The air was filled with song. The whole marble hall reverberated with jubilee.
And then it changed.
Where once there were columns, now dangled thick blackened chains. Where once there was Gavin, now stood Zheal. With long black locks draped over broad shoulders and white gloved hand clenching a bright shining sword, the Huskhn heir appeared in full health.
You took everything from me, the young man snarled. By my sword I'll make you suffer for it.
Just as before, Rib found himself helpless as not one, but a hundred swords came thrusting towards him.
No! he cried. Please!
Someone pawed him gently on the face and he started awake.
It was Memory, crouched in front of him, lightly dusted with snow. Icy plants surrounded them in the garden, the place where Ivory had been buried that past fall. On the wyvern's grave lay a bundle of dried flowers gathered by Tyrone and his family.
I was dreaming again. Rib buried his head under his foreclaws. When will it stop?
His sister pawed at him again, this time purring, "Rib."
He relaxed a little, the pleasure he felt whenever she spoke his name fighting down the stress of his reoccurring nightmares.
With a slight smile, he met her gaze.
"I'm better now," he assured her. "Thank you."
After all this time, you're still saving me.
First from death and now from the dreams.
A hushing wind picked up through the trees. More snowflakes began to fall, swept by a gust into the dragons' faces. Rib blinked the frozen flecks out of his eyes and saw Memory do the same.
It'd been months since Tyrone came back from Cliffport announcing that the defeated Huskhns had left on their ships with Zheal's body. After that, Rib was really able to let go of his worries that Memory might get confused and return to them.
It was a foolish fear, anyway, he told himself. She never likes to go far from where I am.
The fact she actually killed Zheal that day still astonished him. It was clear she hadn't meant to; the placement of that bolted iron was purely coincidental.
But the truth was, Rib was relieved about what had happened.
He'll never trouble us again.
He would never have expected himself to be comforted by someone else's death. Yet, he only had to recall the look in the young man's eyes to know that there was no other way Zheal would've stopped. No words could have kept him from slaying Rib then and there. Nothing could have made him change.
Rib finally understood why Damara killed his father all those years ago. Perhaps he would tell her so someday, find her in Rookton again and thank her for her loyalty on their quest.
But for now he was giving her and her brother some space, time to grieve their beloved Catherine.
They deserve that much.
In the distance, Tyrone whistled for his horse and Rib saw how Memory perked up at the sound. He wondered if she was reminded of Zheal, when he would whistle for her to give her treats or a fond pat on the neck.
He wondered if she missed him.
That doesn't matter, he told himself with an angry shake of his head as Memory rolled over on the ground, batting at the snowflakes that fluttered downwards. Whatever kindness Zheal may have given her, she gets from us ten times over.
Seemingly sensing his lingering concerns, Memory twisted and turned on her back until she brought herself right in front of him, and stopped to hold his gaze.
Sister. Rib's mind was quieted by the sight of her. Free. Forever free.
"Hello there," he whispered, slowly smiling at the wonder and joy that sparked in her eyes. "There's so much we can do together now."
Memory put her foreclaw on his face and he laughed. With a burst of energy, he jumped up, soon copied by her.
"There's so much!" he repeated. "We can be frisks again. Why not? There are caves to explore, fish to catch. And you?you can finally choose your own name."
The idea flooded Rib with the sense of endless, new possibilities. The two of them- they were faced with the future now. His sister could lead whatever life she wished, and he couldn't wait to watch where she went with it.
I'll always be there for you, he promised her silently, pressing his head against hers in affection. At all times, without fail. We'll share this life, together.
You don't have to be a memory anymore.
As always,
Special Thanks to
Mom
Dear Readers,
Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave me a review at your preferred retailer. I would greatly appreciate it.
Thanks again.
Delaney Walnofer
About the Author
As she planned to, Delaney Walnofer wrote this third and final book of The Dragon Slave Trilogy over the summer break just before her senior year at the Grove High School in Redlands. It counted as her senior project and took her over 500 hours. She started with heavy doubts, even to the point of tears, but yet again her mother was right in telling her everything would turn out fine. Delaney recalls the most memorable time of her endeavors writing Dragon Fool, when she wrote the climax and was instantly rewarded by the skies with a loud and thunderous rainstorm. The rest of her time writing involved much vinyl listening and typing with the sole goal to finish her chapter of the day, which she most often did.
Born in 1998, Delaney has always been a storyteller. At eleven years of age, she began planning her first book, Dragon Slave, which she finished writing four years later. The sequel, Dragon Clutch, she completed in 2015.
Dragon Fool is dedicated to the Grove School, which managed to make Delaney's high school experience enjoyable. She thanks her friends, family, and teachers for encouraging and inspiring her throughout the years to do well in both her schoolwork and her passions alike.
Please Note:
This book is the third volume of the Dragon Slave Trilogy. Though connected through world, characters, and conflict, each book may stand alone. Therefore, if you enjoyed this one, please consider reading the first, Dragon Slave, and the second, Dragon Clutch. Thank you.
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