by Joseph Lallo
She raised her left hand high above her head, grip tight about the staff. Arcane words began to slip from her lips, conjuring forth a swirling darkness above her raised fingers. The gleam in her eye was maniacal. Each syllable caused the churning, crackling ball of black energy to swell. The dragon was already a motionless wreck, but she would leave nothing to chance. She would leave nothing at all.
When she was satisfied with its intensity, Damona made ready to release the vicious mass of magic. Suddenly, a hissing sound cut the air, an arrow slicing across the wizard's arm. The pain was sudden and sharp enough to pull her mind from its task. Without concentration to maintain it, the spell scattered and dissipated, trailing long ebony streamers that withered and blackened all that they touched.
The injured spellcaster turned, fury in her eyes, to see Jade run desperately for the shelter of a nearby tree. Damona waved the staff over the wound. In seconds, it boiled away until only a thin black line remained. The grin on her face widened.
“I'm glad you left the tower, child. I was afraid I might damage it while looking for you. Now come here. This will be easier for you if you cooperate.”
Jade stepped from behind the tree and released another arrow. Damona spat a syllable and thrust the staff aside. A wave of force swept through the forest, deflecting the arrow, knocking Jade to the ground, and snapping away the smallest branches of a dozen trees.
“I won't tell you again. Hold still and I'll be gentle and quick. Do something stupid like run or fire another arrow and you'll twist and burn.”
Jade struggled to her feet and fumbled for another arrow, but the force had torn them all away. She raised her gaze to the wizard. Her eyes darted upward briefly before opening wide as saucers. In a sprawling motion, she dropped to the ground, hands covering her head.
“That's a good girl. Just hold--”
Had the thunder not left her near deaf, she might have heard the crackle of broken trees being forced aside. Instead, Damona's first warning was a flare of light. Her second was a rush of heat. There was no time for a third.
Flames rushed about her form before a word of magic could be spoken. A half-dozen spells designed to protect her shattered beneath the might of a direct blast of dragon's fire. In an instant, without so much as a gasp of pain, Damona was no more.
Jade raised her head to see a smoldering crater where once the sorceress had been. There was no trace of humanity left in the blackened, steaming ground. As her eyes crept upward, she saw Halfax. She felt as though someone had torn the heart from her body. The lightning had fairly split him in two, a jagged red slice running from snout to tail along his right side and across his eye. Blood poured along the length of the sizzling wound. Both wings were shredded tatters, and his jaw and one foreleg were horribly crooked. Whatever strength had allowed him to haul himself free for this final attack was draining away. Finally, he collapsed on his left side.
Jade rushed to him, tears in her eyes. Every fiber of her being wanted her to cradle Halfax's head in her arms. She wanted to beg him to be all right, to pray that he could be saved. Had she been any other girl, perhaps she would have. But Halfax had spent as much time raising her as her own parents, and she had learned much from him. She'd learned that if you needed something, you learned how to get it. If you couldn't afford to lose something, you did what it took to keep it safe.
“Hal! Halfax, listen to me!” she cried out, tears in her eyes. “I need you to open your eyes! Listen to me!”
The beast's eyelid wavered slightly.
“Listen!” she cried, slapping the dragon and very nearly gashing her hand in the process.
His one healthy eye pulled slowly open and focused weakly upon her.
“Halfax, focus on me! Stay focused! I can help you! I am going to the tower to get some things and I am going to fix you right up, okay!?” she shouted as the tears ran down her cheeks. “I just need you to keep your eyes open, do you understand? Just keep breathing. I'll do the rest!”
With that, Jade sprinted back to the tower and grabbed as much as she could carry, lugging bulging bags and clanking tools back to the dragon's side. The beast was still breathing, but only just. There was no time to lose, so she set immediately about her task.
There were only a handful of humans in the world who knew anything about how to treat a dragon's wounds, and none had written any of the books in the tower. Jade knew a great deal about healing humans, though, and other animals as well. Many of the books had been devoted to those subjects. What's more, having spent most of her life beside Halfax had brought her a great deal of knowledge about his kind. She had all of the pieces, then. She just had to hope that she could find the right way to put them together before it was too late.
Blankets and rope became makeshift bandages on a dragon's scale. She'd seen him sear minor cuts closed with a burst of flame. The edge of a kitchen knife heated over a hastily built fire did the same job. For wounds too wide to be similarly sealed, strips of sinew and techniques learned from a book about leather armor repair did for a dragon what needle and thread would do for a person. Long, stout branches became splints, and all of the strength she could muster managed to set broken bones. Mixtures of herbs and extracts were poured down his throat in doses dozens of times stronger than the recipes recommended. It was an ordeal, lasting hours, but Jade worked tirelessly. Not until her resources were completely depleted did she relent, well into the night.
She placed her weary head on the beast's chest. A weak but steady heartbeat greeted her. Jade took a step back. Halfax's potent blood stung at her hands and stained every inch of her clothes. Without her purpose to sustain her, all of the exhaustion she'd managed to push aside came down upon her at once. She lowered herself to the icy ground, leaned against her deeply sleeping protector, and made ready to close her eyes.
Motion at the edge of the fire's light jarred her eyes open again. She knew the forest was a place of struggle, a place of predators and prey. For the woodland hunters, the scent of blood was like an alarm bell. If it was the blood of small creature, it meant an easy meal; the blood of a larger predator meant much more. Wild creatures understood competition, and she knew that they all would know that a fallen dragon, if it could be kept from rising, meant more meat for all.
It was not one form but many; several sets of fiery yellow eyes gleamed in the flickering light. Wolves, eager to take Halfax's place for themselves, were gathering. Jade crept to the flames, pulled free a burning branch, and planted herself beside her friend. The dragon had pushed himself beyond the limit to keep her safe. She owed it to him to do the same.
#
“Hal? Hal?” Jade's wavering voice was pleading.
The dragon's good eye opened. He was wracked by sharp, constant pain, but he was alive. Inches in front of his face was Jade. She looked dead on her feet, and she was shivering violently from the cold, but seeing her friend awake brought a brief spark of joy.
“Don't try to talk. Your jaw was broken, so I had to tie it shut. I think . . . I think two of your legs are broken, too, but . . . can you stand? We need to get back to the tower.”
Halfax painfully raised his head. The light of the rising sun revealed the remnants of Jade's hellish night. All around them, the snow was littered with paw prints. Here and there, charred branches lay discarded. The dragon could only imagine what sort of experience the girl had been through, but he could learn of it later. For now, Jade was right. They needed shelter.
Amid growls and groans of pain, Halfax struggled to his feet. Wooden splints creaked, bandaged wounds trickled blood, and ropes strained, but he managed to stand. Together, the dragon limped and the girl trudged back to the tower. Once there, each collapsed into a long, necessary slumber.
#
The time that followed was difficult. Halfax could barely walk, and received a stern reprimand from Jade whenever he tried. That left her to provide all of the food for both of them. The young girl fortunately became an able hunter in very short order,
having seen him do it so often, but even with her well-stocked garden to supplement her own meals, there were times when food had to be rationed. Without Halfax to ride to and from town, and with neither willing to consider leaving the other for long enough for her to make the journey on foot, certain supplies began to run low.
Soon, all her waking moments were filled with hunting, gardening, fashioning arrows, and preparing traps for the next day's hunt. What little time was left to spare was spent scrutinizing the books of the tower. Many of them were dedicated to healing, and she hungrily devoured every hint of a treatment that might lead Halfax to a swifter and more complete recovery. Unfortunately she had exhausted all that the impressive library had to say on the subject of conventional remedies. There were volumes more to read, but all dealt with “white magic.”
Jade was dedicated to doing all she could to help her friend, but the thought of even attempting to cast a spell was terrifying to her. Halfax had warned over and over again that magic was for those trained to use it. It wasn't evil or good, but it could do terrible things if used improperly. That didn't change the fact the Halfax's wings would never heal on their own, and no amount of time would give him the sight back in his right eye. In defending her, he had paid a terrible price. She had to repay him somehow.
#
A rattle shook the whole of the tower. Jade was jarred awake--first startled, then disappointed. By the time she'd reached the door of Halfax's stable, he was only just getting to his feet again.
“What are you doing?” Jade scolded.
“It will be dawn soon. I need to hunt,” he said without looking, limping painfully toward the forest.
“It sounded like a herd of elephants when you tried to stand up. I hope you don't expect to sneak up on anything,” she said, walking alongside him, “and I don't think you'll be chasing anything down either. Go lie down. If you want food, I'll get you something.”
Halfax continued walking.
“You'll never lose that limp if you don't give your bones some rest. You shouldn't even be talking. That jaw still looks horribly swollen.”
“It is fine,” he grunted.
In response, Jade prodded it with a finger. The beast jerked away with a hiss of pain.
“Clearly,” she said. “You know, Halfax, I can remember a time when the idea of you telling a lie would have been unthinkable. What is this all about?”
The dragon sat heavily.
“If you were not here, I would have to do this alone. I need to be able to fend for myself.”
“Hal, if I wasn't here, this never would have happened to you. And if you weren't here, I wouldn't even be alive. You've saved my life so many times, and you've taken care of me for so long, it is only right that I return the favor.”
“You shouldn't have to do this. It isn't the way it is supposed to be.”
“I don't have to do this, Hal. I'm doing it because I want to. Look at me, Halfax. Do you understand?”
Halfax merely stared at her.
“That's not what's wrong, is it?” she said, slowly realizing. “It isn't that I need to do it for you. It is that you need me to do it for you. That's it, isn't it?”
“For hundreds and hundreds of years it has been the same. I am the protector. Generation after generation. Choose the strongest, or the youngest, or the only child. Keep it safe. It is what I am. It was all I was ever meant to be. I stand between you and your enemies. That is how it had always been before you. Then I found you, and I had to feed you. Comfort you. I had to protect your feelings. It was not enough to make you safe, I had to make you feel safe. And now . . . now you feed me? You protect me? That is not how it is supposed to be!”
He stomped a healthy leg with enough force to shake snow from trees at the edge of the clearing.
“Maybe not for dragons, but that is exactly how it works for humans. First parents take care of children, then children take care of the parents. That's family.”
“I am not family.”
Jade smiled and pulled the dragon's head close, kissing him lightly on the snout.
“You are to me, Hal,” she said softly. Then, with a slap to the head and a point to the stable, she added, “Now go lay down and I'll catch you some breakfast!”
#
Jade put down the day's kill. It had taken more time than usual to bring it back. The sun was still high in the sky, but there was much to do. As she gathered her tools to prepare the food, her eyes turned to Halfax. The beast was anything but emotional, and what little he felt seldom showed on his face. To the trained eye, though, it was just as simple to determine his disposition as that of anyone else. Right now he looked defeated, forlorn. It wasn't until his injury that it had become clear how important it was to Halfax that he be useful. His purpose defined him, it was what drove him. Until his strength returned, though, as far as he was concerned, he was little more than a burden. The sense of worthlessness had robbed him of his appetite. He barely even moved, save one attempt early each morning to see if his bones would allow him either the stealth or speed to hunt and defend once more.
Jade thought hard. She needed to find something to make him feel useful until he was himself again. Slowly, a thought arose.
“Halfax. Go like this,” Jade said, twiddling the fingers on one hand.
After a moment, he imitated.
“No, with your bad paw.”
Again he attempted the motion. It was a pale imitation this time, his smallest claw failing to move at all.
“Does that hurt?” she asked.
“No,” he lied.
“Well, it looks like you've lost some . . .” she began, searching her memory for the correct word. “Dexterity. Remember when I was a little girl and you had to cut up my meat for me?”
“Yes,” he said.
Jade picked up the doe she'd brought back and dropped it in front of him.
“Separate it. And try to use your bad paw as much as possible,” she said.
Halfax glared at her briefly, then dragged the kill closer and went to work. As he did, Jade tended to the garden. She peeked briefly in his direction periodically to see him diligently at work. By the time she'd weeded and selected some ripe vegetables, he had managed to do a remarkably good job of butchering the beast.
“Good. Now reach inside and grab that big pot . . .”
Task by task, she walked Halfax through fetching wood from the pile, filling the pot from the stream, and placing the right meats and vegetables inside. Each step was of little effort for him. Seldom did he even need to stand. Many, though, required finer manipulation than he'd done in weeks. The fire was lit, and the food was cooked until the smell and tenderness was right. It took hours, but while it cooked and Halfax watched, Jade worked through the rest of the day's activities. Finally, she sampled the result. It was a trifle plain, and the vegetables were more mashed than cut, but it was actually quite good.
“There. It may not be the way you are accustomed to, but you just fetched me dinner,” she said.
“This is foolish,” he grumbled.
“Nonsense, it is a great help. And if you are going to mope around like a kicked puppy until you are healed up, I've got to find something for you to do. So this is your new job every day until you are back on your feet.”
#
In a dark room, somewhere far away, a tall, lean figure sat in deep thought. It was the elf, the mysterious stranger who had been haunting Jade's life for all of these years. The same puzzle had occupied his mind for all of that time.
“The lucky ones,” he murmured, “so very difficult to deal with.”
He tapped his foot absentmindedly and stroked his chin.
“Three bloodlines left that I know of . . . can't seem to eliminate those two. That luck turns things to their favor. I need to whittle that number down. Find some way to turn good luck for her into bad luck for the world. A scenario where the best case for her is still a win for me . . .”
Slowly, a grin came to his face, as
devious and malicious as the thought that inspired it.
“That could work . . .”
#
In time, Halfax mostly recovered. The strength returned to his injured legs. He resumed hunting--though, as she had developed a fondness for it, Jade now frequently accompanied him. Likewise, though it was no longer strictly necessary, Halfax aided in preparing meals and other more human chores. Working with his "hands" was more challenging than he'd expected, revealing a weakness he'd not realized he'd had. Halfax was a creature who would never pass up a chance to correct a flaw.
More than two years passed. The girl and the dragon were mercifully left alone in that time. Jade's only contact with anyone aside from Halfax came in the form of trips to the nearest town. Now that she was just past eighteen years of age, appearing alone in town did not cause nearly the stir it had when she was a child. That was not to say that she went without notice, but now it was for an entirely new set of reasons.
Their undisturbed time was no doubt largely due to Jade's remarkable--indeed, supernatural--luck. Peace was hardly the only benefit that it had afforded her, though. Perhaps the purest form taken by her extraordinary good fortune was obvious to all who saw her. She had blossomed into a woman as effortlessly and flawlessly beautiful as anyone was likely to see. Long, raven hair was kept in a meticulous braid. The simple clothes she made with her own hands shamed the work of tailors the world over by simple virtue of the exquisite form upon which they were draped. Her visits were well remembered by the men of the village, and sourly dreaded by the women. Many the young buck had attempted to court her, but all were politely turned away. The more persistent and less mannerly among them quickly learned that though she might look delicate, a dragon did not raise this young woman to be timid.
She'd managed to find a way to pay Halfax back for the gold she'd had to spend as well. The skills she'd learned in her quest to heal him, it turned out, were quite sought after within the town. Potions and powders that she concocted to cure common maladies sold as quickly as she could make them. This was partially because it hadn't occurred to her to charge much more than they cost to make, so they were substantially cheaper than those sold by traveling merchants. Mostly, though, they sold because, unlike most of what the merchants sold, they actually worked. Pain was eased, infections subsided, rashes cleared. When she was in town she tended to the more troublesome ailments personally. Before long, she found herself making trips every few weeks whether she needed goods or not, simply to sell her wares and render her services.
