by Joseph Lallo
“I can't eat a whole deer.”
“Then eat some of it.”
“Could you cut it for me?”
The dragon looked to its prize, then to the girl. With a grunt of rising annoyance, it set to work butchering the deer. It was a fairly delicate task for a dragon's claws. Jade looked away quickly and tried to ignore the gruesome sounds of her host at work.
“Do . . . do you have a name?” she asked, eyes still averted.
“Halfax,” rumbled the beast, in a slurred manner that implied its mouth was involved in its current task.
“Ha'fax.” she said.
“Hal-fax,” it repeated, stopping briefly to glare at the back of her head.
“Hal Fax,” she tried again. When no correction came, she continued. “And Hal, you are a . . . boy, right? A boy dragon?”
“Yes,” he said, the statement punctuated with a deliberate snap of bone.
“W-where did all of these chests come from?” she asked.
“I stole them.”
“Did . . . did you kill people for them?”
“No. Here.”
A piece of meat dropped onto the ground beside her, a good deal larger than she needed, and a good deal sloppier than a butcher would have provided. Another little girl might have been horrified by the sight, but Jade had grown up on a farm in very hard times. She knew how her meals were made.
“Eat,” he ordered.
“I need it cooked.”
“You don't need it cooked.”
“Uh-huh. I'll get sick if I eat raw meat.”
“You will?” the dragon asked, brow furrowed.
Jade nodded vigorously.
“I don't know how to do that.”
“I can do it!” Jade said, running to one of the mounds where she'd seen pots and pan. “Mommy lets me . . . Let me help her sometimes.”
She hauled a massive iron pot from the pile and dragged it over to the meat. Once the formidable piece of venison was inside, no amount of tugging would move the pot.
“Um, could you put this on the fire?” she asked.
The beast reached out and clutched the small cauldron. It was like a toy ball in his hand-like paw. He dropped it on the flames.
“Now we wait until the pot heats up, and then--”
She was interrupted when Halfax launched a tongue of flame at the pot. Instantly, the black iron was sizzling hot.
Jade swallowed hard.
“Now what?” he asked.
“We wait until it is done.”
“How long?”
Jade shrugged, adding, “'Til it's done.”
“And you need to do this every time you eat?”
“Yes.”
Halfax made an increasingly familiar grumble of frustration.
“Hal. Why did you--”
“Halfax.”
“You mean Fax isn't your family name?”
“I have no family name.”
“Oh. Well, can I call you Hal? For short?”
“Very well.”
“Why did you steal all of these chests, Hal?”
“For gold,” the creature replied, curling his tail about the mound once more.
“Why do you want gold?”
“Because I must have it.”
“Why?”
“Because I must.”
“But why must you?”
“I simply must. I do not feel at ease unless I have some.”
“Why not?”
“Why do you ask so many questions?”
“I'm curious.”
“And why is that?”
Jade shrugged.
“It is for the same reason that I seek gold. It is what we are.”
Jade seemed satisfied with this answer. The merciful silence did not last long.
“Do you think it will rain soon?” she asked.
“I do not know.”
“Do you think the villagers will figure out about the wells? Or about the water in here?”
“They tried to solve the problem of a drought by feeding a little girl to a dragon. I very much doubt they will find the proper solution on their own.”
“Do you think they'll starve or dry up before it rains?”
“I don't care.”
“Well, I do. Just because they're mean and stupid doesn't mean I want them to die.”
“You can go back to them,” he began hopefully, “and tell--”
“No!” she interrupted. “Think of something else.”
The dragon glared at Jade once again. She stared back, unflinching.
“Can anyone in your village read?”
“I think the preacher can.”
“Can you write?”
Jade shook her head.
“Find something to write on.”
A bit of digging eventually turned up a shingle of wood that bore a carving of an anvil on one side and nothing on the other. Evidently one of the stolen chests had belonged to a blacksmith. She scurried back to the dragon, who was scratching something into the cave floor.
“You know how to write?” she said, astonished.
“Yes.”
He reached into the flames and pulled a sliver of charred wood.
“Here. Copy these shapes.”
Jade carefully traced out the shapes as she saw them. Many times the beast had to correct her. While she was very good at scratching the correct letter on the plank with the charred wood, the importance of things like order and orientation eluded her. With some coaching, and quite a bit of wiping away mistakes, by the time the meat had finished cooking, she'd managed to render a mostly legible message.
When she was through, she had Halfax pull the meal from the fire. No amount of searching among the scattered goods in the cave turned up anything resembling dinnerware. Instead, the blacksmith's pile revealed a knife and a half-completed buckler, which, in a pinch, could serve as a plate. With some difficulty, she managed to hack off a piece of the inexpertly prepared meal that was small enough to chew. The roast managed to be nearly burnt on the outside and nearly raw on the inside. It was, however, edible, and there was a lot of it. For Jade, who hadn't eaten her fill in weeks, it was a banquet.
“What does it say?” she asked, gnawing at a charred chunk of venison.
“Dig deep for water or look in cave,” he replied.
“That's it? All of that writing for that?” she said, eying the crude letter doubtfully. “Well, now what?”
“I will leave it in the town.”
“But what if they come to the cave for water?”
“We will not be here. Tonight we leave.”
“Why?”
“Because once I enter the town, things will become difficult for me. And because we need to find someplace with people willing to take care of you. For now, you sleep.”
Jade ate her fill and curled up on the pile of rags, falling asleep with a full stomach for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. She slept soundly until she was awakened by an odd jingling sound. She opened her eyes to a curious sight. Halfax had his head hanging over the tiny pile of gold, his tongue deftly flicking the coins and trinkets into his mouth.
“Why are you eating your gold?” she asked with a giggle.
“I am carrying it in my mouth,” he slurred.
“Wouldn't a bag be easier?”
“I would need to carry the bag in my mouth. Take what you need, but only what you can carry. We are leaving.”
“Only what I can carry? Aren't you going to help?”
“No. I am a guardian, not a servant.”
“Okay,” Jade said sulkily.
She found a smaller pan, an oversized robe, and a pair of bags. Stuffing the buckler-turned-plate, the knife, and the pan into one bag, she walked up to Halfax. As he managed to flick the last coin into his mouth, she held the second bag open.
“Spit,” she said.
“What?” he said, the sound garbled.
“Spit the gold in the bag. I'll carry it for you.”
>
“Why?”
“Because you're my friend.”
After a long, measuring stare, he opened his mouth. The coins and jewelry, along with a fair amount of drool, spilled into the bag.
“Ew.” Jade grimaced.
Then she snatched up the cold remains of the roast and ate it, along with some more of the cave spring's water. As she did, she spotted a heavily-used oil lantern among the debris and lit it from the flames, singeing her fingers in the process. She cooled her hand in the bucket of water. A thought occurred to her.
“What are we going to do for water?” she asked.
“We will find it along the way.”
“Okay,” she said, dropping the dipper into her bag.
The small bag of gold and large bag of supplies strapped to her back, combined with the oversized clothes and the dangling lantern, made Jade look as though one of the mounds of random goods had decided to get up and walk away. Halfax padded slowly along the twisting passages of the cave, careful not to let the little girl fall behind. Even so, Jade had to hurry to keep up. The light of the lantern didn't cut far into the darkness of the cave, and the last thing that she wanted was to be left behind.
It was the dead of night when they left the cave. The dragon led the way to the nearest forest, and the pair walked just out of sight of the roadside away from Jade's town and toward the next. The trip took most of the night, but when they were as near to the place as Halfax dared to go, he turned to Jade.
“Go inside and find someone to take care of you,” he ordered.
“But I've never been to this town. I don't even know what it is called,” Jade objected.
“There are humans here. They will take care of you.”
“But--”
“Go!” he growled.
Jade reluctantly trudged into town while Halfax waited and watched. Until the sun rose, the little girl simply sat in the city square and waited. As day came and the people began to go about their daily lives, the square became active. Few of the people spoke to Jade. Indeed, most seemed not to notice her. Those who did spoke only briefly. The day wore on with the most significant interaction being a kindly old woman who gave Jade a sweet bun. When the sun began to set, Jade trudged back to the forest.
“What happened?”
“Nothing! People didn't pay any attention to me!”
“Did you tell them you needed a home?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why didn't they help you?”
“People don't want another thing to worry about.” Jade shrugged, then added, “I'm tired and hungry and thirsty.”
Growling quietly, Halfax tracked down a meal and a source of water. Over the next few days, the process repeated itself. They would travel as far as they could, making their way from cover to cover in the night. When they reached a town, Jade would enter. Invariably, she returned to Halfax at night exhausted, hungry, and ignored. Some people were friendly. Some were even concerned, offering to help her find her lost family. When told that she had none and that she needed a home, most would do little more than offer encouragement and empathy.
When they reached a third city, a young man showed a sudden and dedicated interest in her, even taking her to a tavern for a meal. Halfax was hopeful that she had finally found a caregiver . . . until she came running back to him in tears at nightfall, the bag of gold taken. By the time she awoke in the morning, the bag was by her side again.
“How did you get the gold back?” she asked as she finished a meal.
“Never mind,” Halfax grumbled. “This way. There is another village to the--”
“No!” she objected. “No, no, no, no!”
Halfax simply marched on.
“I'm not going any farther. No one is going to take a little girl by herself. We could go to any village you want. Maybe one of them will put me in an orphanage. And I don't wanna go in an orphanage.”
“You are an orphan. You belong in an orphanage.”
“I. Don't. Wanna,” she said firmly.
“They will be able to care for you.”
“And you can't? I'm not hungry and I'm not thirsty. That's better than my last home.”
“You cannot live in a field or a cave.”
“Why not?”
“Because you are a little girl.”
“Then buy a house. You have gold. Plenty of it.”
“I cannot live in a house, and I cannot be your caretaker.”
“Why not?”
“Because I am a dragon.”
“So what? Who made these rules? An' who says we need to follow them? Why do we have to do things just because you are what you are and I am what I am? You're a big scary dragon! You don't need to follow rules! And you've taken care of me better than anyone but my parents. You are my friend, Hal! I know you and I trust you. Why would you want me to be with strangers?”
“Because they--”
“No! I don't care! I'm going with you. You just pick a place and that's where we live. And if you try to leave me somewhere, I'll run away and find you, because I wanna stay with you and that's that,” she declared, stomping her foot and crossing her arms.
Halfax clenched his claws deep into the ground, narrowed his eyes, and glared at the little girl. She returned his gaze without a flinch. The stare-down continued for some time before, finally, Halfax released a hissing sigh.
“There is a tower I passed on the way here. It looked like it had been empty for some time. We may be able to go there.”
“Really!?” she squealed in delight.
“It will be a long journey.”
“Don't care.”
“You will be alone there.”
“I'll have you.”
“It is far to the north, very cold.”
“North is this way, right?” she asked, hurrying off.
With a second, more defeated sigh, Halfax lumbered off behind her.
“It is my purpose to see that you are safe. This journey is dangerous. I need to know that you can make it by yourself. If something happens to me, I need to know that you can find your own way to someplace safe. So if you ever need me to carry you, even for a moment, I will carry you to the nearest city and you will not leave until you find someone. Do you understand?”
“I don't need your help. Let's go!”
#
And so the pair began their journey. Jade was unfailingly cheerful and upbeat now that Halfax was no longer sending her away. When a town was near, they traveled at night. When far from society, they almost never stopped moving, pausing just once each day to hunt down and prepare a meal and sleep.
For the dragon, the journey was horribly slow. For Jade, it was brisk and tiring, but not once did she complain. She merely walked, a smile on her face, and happily provided a nearly unbroken flow of words, most of which washed over Halfax without acknowledgment or reply. Nights were spent in the shelter of thick trees.
After three days, dark clouds began to form and the drought came to a sudden end. The skies opened, dumping sheets of rain onto the thirsty ground.
At first, Jade was overjoyed, frolicking in the downpour. The novelty quickly wore thin, however, and had she not been in the company of the dragon, the night would have been a difficult one. But the wet wood was hardly a problem when the dragon could use his fiery breath to start the camp fire, and a single raised wing was as good as a tent to keep the rain from her head. When the rain let up, they continued on, but the heavy clouds made the night black as pitch. The little girl lit her lantern, but it was not long before its reservoir ran low. Jade tapped nervously at the lamp as the flame flickered out on the dry wick.
“We . . . uh . . . we need to stop in the next town,” Jade said shakily.
“We are heading into the mountains. No more towns.”
“Then we need to go back. We need oil for the lamp.”
“There is a moon, there are stars. Plenty of light.”
“They're behind clouds!”
“Plenty of light
,” he repeated firmly.
“Not for me. I can barely see anything.”
“You don't need to see anything. I will lead the way. Just stay close.”
“But what if there are things out there? Monsters!”
“I am a bigger monster than anything the darkness might hide.”
Jade paused at an imagined sound in the bushes, then scurried to catch up to Halfax. She grabbed the tip of his tail and gripped it anxiously. He tensed at her touch and stopped walking.
“What are you doing?” he asked without looking.
“I'm holding your tail,” she said, squeezing it tighter as something scampered across the ground nearby.
“Why?”
“'Cause I don't want to lose you in the dark . . . An' it makes me feel better.”
“Very well,” he said finally.
For the rest of that night's travel, Jade continued to hold the dragon's tail as one might hold the hand of a big brother. Halfax had to walk in an awkward, deliberate gait to keep from waving his tail about and tugging it from her grip, but the little girl didn't seem to notice. She merely continued on, gratefully clutching the tail and keeping her eye on the darkness.
Within another day, the two had made it well into the mountains. The travel had been slow before, but now it was getting slower by the hour. Even on level ground, it took ten of the girl's strides to match one of the dragon's. Now that the mountainside was getting steeper, the beast was often left waiting for minutes while Jade struggled to pull herself up the rocky slope. When she reached the first level patch in what seemed like ages, the girl sat on the ground and fought to catch her breath.
“I just . . . I need to . . . I can't . . . catch my breath,” she wheezed.
The dragon watched her as she slowly recovered. When her breathing was almost normal, she struggled to her feet, ready to move on. The young girl raised her eyes to find Halfax crouching and leaning his shoulder low.
“What are you--”
“Get on my back,” he ordered.
“No!” she objected, trying to shove him angrily. She only succeeded in pushing herself back. “I told you I can do it by myself!”
“I am not going to take you back to a town.”
“You said you would . . .”
“I am saying different now.”
“You promise? You promise not to take me back?”
“Yes.”
“Say it. Say 'I promise to take care of you forever.'”
