Blood and Fire (Book 3)

by Marcus Alexander

  Charlie gave it some thought. ‘Intelligence?’

  ‘Intelligence? Rubbish! I’ve met many great mathematicians and inventors who were able to solve great riddles and problems but failed in almost every other aspect of their daily lives. Drat!’ he cursed as he nearly fell in the lake. The Fluttercarp, clearly feeling that the dragon was no threat, continued to swim nearby.

  ‘OK, experience, then.’

  ‘Experience shmerience! I have met many famous adventurers who have seen and lived a lot but still blunder in every direction that they go.’

  Feeling slightly let down by her first impression of Rumbling Hunger and feeling the prickle of impatience, Charlie crossed her arms. ‘Well, if you don’t think age or intelligence makes you wise, what does?’

  She stared challengingly at the soggy-armed Winged One.

  ‘Ah,’ he said with a coy look of amusement on his face. ‘And here I was beginning to think that you would never ask. Wisdom is understanding the lessons learned from past mistakes.’ Keeping his eyes pinned to Charlie’s, he reached out, slapped a nearby palm tree, caught one of the coconuts as it fell to earth and, with a powerful flick of his wrist, sent it slamming into the waters of the lake. The stunned Fluttercarp bobbed to the surface. Grinning wickedly, Hunger broke eye contact with Charlie to reach out and hold his catch aloft. The Fluttercarp woke and started to flap nervously in his grasp. Hunger gently tilted it back into the water. ‘I’ll eat that one later.’

  Quickly realizing there was a lot more to Rumbling Hunger than met the eye, Charlie chose to keep her mouth shut.

  ‘And the reason,’ continued Hunger, ‘why the others of my kind consider me wise is not because of my age.’ He held a leg aloft so Charlie could appreciate how old and worn his scales were. ‘Nor is it because of my intelligence.’ He burned a series of arcane symbols into the riverbank. ‘And neither is it because of my experience.’ He extinguished the flames with a lazy sweep of his tail. ‘The reason why I am considered wise, young Charlie, is because I have made so many mistakes in my life.’

  ‘Huh?’ said Charlie. This was not the explanation she had been expecting.

  ‘Ha!’ chuckled Hunger. ‘Does that come as a surprise? Then let me confuse you even more. I am two thousand seven hundred and eighty-three years old. And in that time I have led and lost eleven major battles, I’ve been fleeced and cheated thirty-five times, and I’m sorry to say I’ve managed, at some time or another, to break half the bones in my body. In my travels I have been lost and forced to fly the wilderness of the Shifting Realm for twenty-one years; more than that, I was tricked by the Daemon Kindred and imprisoned in the Eleventh Hell for a hundred and three years! I have been deceived, betrayed and left for dead more times than I care to count. The tales that I could tell you, young Charlie, would shrivel your ears and cause your heart to clench.’

  Caught by the cadence of his voice and the rhythm of his words, Charlie, unable to stop herself even if she wanted to, asked, ‘And they still consider you wise?’

  ‘That they do, young Charlie. And they consider me wise because I have learned the lessons that life’s hard experiences have taught me.’ Moving close, he leaned over her, drenching her in his shadow and fixing her with his brown eyes. ‘You should never be afraid to make a mistake. Neither should you allow fear or loss to quench the fire of your heart. And it is plain as the light of day, little Charlie, that life’s lessons have quenched the fire in your heart.’

  ‘What? But … but that’s not true!’

  ‘Is it not? Hold up your hand.’

  Charlie did as she was told. The ruined edge of her hand, with its missing finger, stared accusingly back at her. Looking up, she saw Hunger looking at her through the gaps in her fingers.

  ‘Your flesh has been damaged and yet you seem quite meek about it.’

  ‘That’s not –’

  ‘Meek is what you have become,’ insisted Hunger, ignoring her objection. ‘That scar on your leg is not the only one you carry, is it? Your leg was broken recently, was it not? By your enemies?’

  Charlie’s eyes widened and, unbidden, her hand stretched down to touch her leg. How could he have known that Edge Darkmount had broken it?

  ‘And what about your heart? Even a blind man could tell that it has been broken time and time again.’

  Charlie faltered beneath the strength of his gaze and took a step back. Hunger relentlessly followed.

  ‘Your face carries the shadows of past betrayals and your eyes are haunted by the pain you’ve endured.’

  Charlie stumbled as she tried to take another step, only to fall backwards and land on her backside. Images of Mr Crow, Bane, Lady Narcissa, the Delightful Brothers, Edge Darkmount, Lallinda the Daemon Queen and more flew before her eyes. And ever in the background hung the ghostly images of her parents and her grandma.

  ‘Yes,’ growled Hunger. His eyes blazed as he loomed over her. ‘All that and more you carry with you. But where is the anger? Where is the sorrow? WHERE?’ he roared.

  Terrified by the abrupt change in Hunger, she scuttled backwards until she was sitting in the waters of the lake. She thought about swimming off, or even using her Will, but instead she found herself growing very still. ‘It’s gone,’ she admitted. She thought back to her fight with Fo Fum and the battle of Sylvaris. ‘I used to be full of anger and rage but I let it go.’

  ‘And that’s where you went wrong,’ said Hunger in a softer voice. ‘You didn’t just give up your anger, you gave up everything else.’ Picking her up, he gently deposited her on the bank so she could start to dry off. ‘Even though you keep losing,’ he pointed to the gap of her missing finger, ‘and even though you continue to endure more and more pain,’ he touched the fresh scar on her leg, ‘you do not allow yourself the opportunity to feel. You, Charlie Keeper, have not understood the lessons of your experiences.’

  41

  Verraverry Berry

  ‘I’ve learned enough to make sure I’m not betrayed again by strangers.’

  ‘A good lesson learned,’ admitted Hunger, ‘but not enough. Not enough by far. All that you seem to have learned, little Charlie, is that you don’t want to be hurt again. But pain and hardship are part of life. You should not be scared about what life brings your way, rather you should embrace it.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ asked Charlie.

  ‘I’m saying that after being surrounded by darkness and after becoming the darkness and after learning to live without it, you are now still afraid to live. I’m saying that although you plod on and have not strayed from your path you have given up on life.’

  ‘What? That’s not true!’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ asked Hunger. His eyes burned into hers.

  Unable to stand his gaze, Charlie looked aside. ‘I …’ she began but found she could not get the words started. Is he right? she thought. Were there some grains of truth hidden in his words? Looking inward, Charlie tried to study herself … and found herself uncertain.

  ‘When was the last time you cried?’ asked Hunger softly.

  Charlie held her mangled hand aloft.

  ‘Did you cry for yourself or out of pain from your wound?’

  Charlie slowly lowered her hand. ‘Pain,’ she admitted.

  ‘I sense you lost someone recently. No?’

  The image of Stix’s Stowyrm slamming into Marsila played itself over and over in her mind. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And did you cry for them?’

  ‘I, uh … no. Marsila was an amazing person but we weren’t that close. I only knew her for four days.’

  ‘But she left an impression upon you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So how did you feel after her passing?’

  ‘Numb?’ answered Charlie. She was surprised by just how true that was.

  ‘And how do you feel now? Answer me truthfully, child.’

  ‘Numb,’ repeated Charlie.

  ‘You feel numb because you have locked part of yourself off from the rest of t
he world.’

  Charlie opened her mouth to protest but found that words failed her.

  ‘It is apparent to all that you have suffered and suffered greatly. Even these old eyes can see that you have endured more than any man or woman should in a lifetime, let alone a child like yourself.’

  ‘I’m not a child,’ snapped Charlie, ‘I’m fourteen!’ As soon as she said the words she regretted them.

  ‘Perhaps,’ acknowledged Hunger. ‘But what does that make you to a Winged One enjoying his third millennium? A child you are in flesh and mind, and so you shall remain until you release your fears.’

  Charlie scrunched her eyes shut and balled her hands into fists. ‘And how,’ she growled, ‘do you suggest I do that? Bane has my parents! And everywhere I look, everywhere I’ve been, lies a trail of death and deceit!’

  ‘Charlie Keeper?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I have no idea how you should go about accepting your fears.’

  ‘What?’ choked Charlie. This was the last response she had expected to hear.

  The sound of Hunger’s rich laughter echoed off the hills and shivered across the lake, sending the Fluttercarp diving nervously for the depths.

  ‘But I thought you were supposed to be a wise dragon?’

  ‘Winged One,’ corrected Hunger.

  ‘Wise Winged One, whatever,’ shrugged Charlie. ‘I thought you were supposed to solve all my problems!’

  Hunger laughed again. ‘Wise I may be, young Charlie, but I cannot do everything for you. However, if you want to hear something wise, how about this: the shepherd can lead his flock to the waters but he cannot make them drink.’

  ‘What is that supposed to mean?’

  ‘It means, Charlie, that although I can tell you that you should lose your fears and learn to embrace life once again it is up to you, not me, to work out how to do that.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Charlie. None of this had gone how she’d thought it would. Surely there was more to hanging out with a wise dragon than this?

  As if reading her thoughts, Hunger said, ‘Let me help you, Charlie. Although I might not be able to open your heart, allow me to tell you a story.’

  ‘What kind of story?’

  ‘A wise man’s story,’ said Hunger with a cheeky smile.

  Charlie, unable to help herself, mirrored his expression.

  ‘Once upon a time a young monk was walking through a forest. So deep was he in thought that he failed to notice the Shade that was stalking him. When the Shade finally broke cover and pounced, the young monk managed to jump aside. Panicked, and fearing for his life, he ran as fast as he could. Past tree after tree he ran, the Shade hissing and snapping at his ankles. The forest soon ended and the young monk found himself running towards a cliff. Knowing that if he stopped to face the Shade without a weapon or shield he would die, he instead decided to risk everything and jumped. As he fell he caught hold of a slender Verraverry bush. With a long fall below and a howling Shade above, the young monk held on. After all, what choice did he have? But as young and as slender as the monk was, his weight soon began to pull the bush from the cliff. And to make matters worse, a second Shade appeared at the foot of the cliff. Screeching and spitting, it looked up at him while the Shade above stared down. As the bush continued to pull itself free the young monk noticed a single Verraverry berry hanging from its stalk. Holding on to the loosening plant with one hand, he plucked the berry with the other and ate it. It was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. Its flavour was so ripe, so majestic, it was like none other and the taste of it seemed to dance across his tongue.’

  Hunger fell silent and Charlie waited for him to continue but he seemed to have finished.

  ‘What? Is that it? What happened to the monk?’

  ‘He fell to his death and his body was mauled by the Shades.’

  Disgusted, Charlie crossed her arms. ‘What kind of fable was that? That sucked!’

  ‘Yes,’ said Hunger with a roll of his eyes, ‘it is very apparent that you missed its moral.’

  ‘All right, then, explain it to me.’

  ‘The Shades represent the obstacles and bad things that happen in our life. They are inevitable and are to be expected. The Verraverry berry represents the pleasures and joys of life. Fleeting and rare they are, to be enjoyed whenever possible. Death awaits all of us and there are many Shades that lie in wait along the path of life but, no matter what, Verraverry berries are always to be enjoyed for without them life is hollow.’

  Previously unimpressed, Charlie felt a spark of something ignite in the dark recesses of her mind. There was something in Hunger’s words that plucked at the fabric of her being. And although she didn’t quite comprehend what it was, she did realize that it was something worth pursuing.

  ‘Are you saying I should ignore the bad things in life and concentrate on the good?’

  ‘No,’ Hunger snorted in a very un-wisely manner. ‘What I’m saying is that life has a tendency to deliver bad things our way. Expect this, flow with this and always do your utmost to overcome these unwelcome obstacles. But, most importantly, do not allow these dark things to take over your life. Ride them if you will but always remember to reach out to grasp the good things that come your way. It is these, not the darkness, that should shape your life.’

  Charlie remained silent while she digested his words. Looking back to how the darkness had consumed her previously, she asked, ‘What about anger?’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Well, is that something I should be avoiding too? When these … things started happening to me, all I felt was anger. A lot of anger. I let it consume me to the point where I became as bad –’ she paused to correct herself – ‘badder than the people who tried to stop me.’

  ‘What happened to this darkness that you invited in?’

  ‘I gave it up,’ said Charlie. ‘I didn’t think it was getting me anywhere so I let it go.’

  ‘It is good to allow darkness to pass,’ said Hunger. ‘But not to the point where you cease to allow yourself to feel. Am I right in suggesting that you feel a lot of responsibility for those around you? And that you suffer from guilt when you cannot stop the world crumbling and those around you falling?’

  ‘Yes,’ whispered Charlie.

  Hunger’s eyes softened. ‘Responsibility and sorrow are good. These are not Human or Treman or Stoman sensations but sensations that all sentient beings feel. But better than all of this is balance – and balance, young Charlie, is the one thing you are missing.’

  Something clutched at Charlie’s heart.

  Hunger reached out and tilted her head back up until she was staring into his eyes. ‘Would it surprise you if I said that anger is as good for you as sorrow? Anger is a powerful emotion and used correctly it can be a force that can be governed for good. When I feel anger I use it. I guide it and ride it and use its energy to overcome difficult tasks. Anger can be used not only as a destructive tool but as a tool to build. Many are the times in my life when if I had not been angered I would not have had the will to carry on. Remember this, Charlie: all emotions have a use and are not to be avoided. Even pain and hurt and fear and loss can be endured and used for the greater good.’

  Hunger’s stomach rumbled. It was a prodigious sound and caused Charlie’s eyes to widen in disbelief.

  ‘Ha!’ chuckled Hunger. ‘Enough with these words! I think the time has come for less talking and more eating. Come, let us get some food and see what that whippersnapper of a Winged One has been up to while we’ve been chatting.’

  ‘Are you calling Hotstepper a whippersnapper?’ asked Charlie incredulously.

  ‘Young Charlie, when you fly past your second millennium and reach your third you’d better believe that everyone else becomes a whippersnapper. Now let’s go and see if that Hotflubber has managed to get me some food.’

  ‘Hotstepper,’ corrected Charlie.

  ‘Whatever,’ retorted Hunger.

  42

  Fl
uttercarp

  ‘I have brought you some food, eldest,’ said Hotstepper with a bow of his head.

  Charlie and Hunger looked at the three fat fish laid out in a line.

  ‘Those are Fluttercarp,’ said Hunger.

  ‘Yes, eldest.’

  ‘And where, Hotflubber, did you get these? Was it from some distant isle? Some other realm?’

  ‘No, eldest, I got them from yonder pond.’

  Charlie and Hunger turned to look at the pond behind them.

  ‘You mean to tell me you got me Fluttercarp from my own isle?’

  ‘Er … yes, eldest.’

  ‘Listen, junior. Getting Fluttercarp from my own isle is not what I call “getting me some food”. It is what I would call “getting me food from my own pantry”. And, junior, let me tell you, I’m not so old that I cannot collect Fluttercarp from my own isle. It would have been nice if, while Charlie and I were hard at work, you had gone and caught something that was not readily available from my own pantry. Like Skyelk or Tuberworm or even Cloudkudu.’

  ‘I’m sorry, eldest. I will remember this for next time I visit.’ Hotstepper bowed low. As he did so, he rolled his eyes at Charlie.

  ‘I saw that!’ said Hunger. Reaching out, he idly cuffed Hotstepper round the back of the head. ‘Ah, the youth of today. Did you see that, Charlie? When I was a lad at least I had the good manners to come up with a convincing lie if I was ever caught pinching food from someone’s pantry.’

  ‘I didn’t pinch them, eldest.’

  ‘No?’ said Hunger. ‘Were you “borrowing” them, then? Did you plan on putting them back?’ He prodded the fish. They didn’t move. ‘Well, Hotflubber, do you think they’ll miraculously come back to life if you put them back in the pond? No? Well, in that case I call it pinching and not borrowing.’

  ‘I’m sorry, eldest.’

  ‘And stop calling me that!’

  ‘Well, stop calling me Hotflubber!’ retorted Hotstepper.

  ‘It’s the name your mother gave you on your Namingday.’

  ‘She sneezed!’ protested Hotstepper. ‘Everyone knows that.’