A Portal for Your Thoughts

by Jeffrey M. Poole

  Surprised?

  Very. You say the two of us become friends?

  Yes.

  When?

  Before I answer that, let me ask you a question. How open are you to believing the impossible?

  If I am to believe your story, then one could say I was very open to believing that which is impossible to comprehend.

  Good. Here’s the thing. I’m from the future. I… wow, that makes me sound like a complete dork. Let’s try that again. I’m from another time. I accidentally came back in time and all I’m trying to do is find a way home.

  What do you need to return to your home?

  An athe crystal.

  That’s a crystal mined by the dwarves, is it not?

  Yes.

  Shouldn’t you be asking them?

  Steve groaned. Cecil, who had been napping with his back up against the stump, snapped his eyes open and looked worriedly over at him. Steve smiled and shook his head, dismissing his concerned look.

  You sound just like Kahvel. He suggested that, too. Long story short, I can get the dwarves to give me an extra athe crystal if I agree to do them a favor in the time frame I need it to be done.

  Time frame? What time frame?

  I have less than two days to get this crystal to a pre-arranged location so that I can return home.

  What favor do they require?

  Steve mentally prepared himself and took a breath.

  One of them wants to ride on the back of a dragon.

  He felt Pryllan’s shock ripple through him as though he was experiencing the emotion himself.

  You can’t be serious.

  Unfortunately, I am.

  If you and I are as close friends as you say we are then you would know dragons don’t carry riders.

  Oh, I’m aware.

  He felt Pryllan give an exasperated snort.

  I’ve allowed you to ride on my back, haven’t I?

  Steve smiled.

  Yes, you have.

  How have we managed to keep this a secret from the Dragon Lord?

  We haven’t.

  He knows? Wasn’t he angry?

  Yes.

  And I continue to allow you to ride on my back? Why?

  I have asked you that question numerous times.

  What did I say?

  You have yet to give me an answer. You always give me this cryptic look.

  So you’re asking me to allow a dwarf on my back, is that it?

  I’m asking you to allow a dying dwarf child to ride on your back. It’s the one wish she has that her father cannot grant.

  She’s dying?

  Yes. There’s a problem with her heart. I guess it doesn’t beat as well as it should

  You want to put an ailing dwarf child on my back?

  Yes. Will you allow it?

  They know. I don’t know how they know but they clearly do. Have they told you, too?

  Told me what?

  About what would happen if that child rides on a wyverian’s back?

  The girl’s name is Aislinn. Her father is the one who made the deal with me. The only thing he told me is that his daughter is dying and is not expected to live too much longer. He apparently has approached Rinbok Intherer personally to ask him to grant his daughter’s request.

  And?

  You can guess what Rinbok told him.

  He no doubt reminded the dwarf that dragon riding is not allowed.

  Right.

  Pryllan was silent for a full five minutes. Steve looked over at Jonquil, who had nodded off in a seated position up on the stump. Cecil was still staring at him.

  “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

  Steve nodded. “I think so. Something’s up. Pryllan has gone quiet. I think she –”

  Steve?

  What’s the matter? What aren’t you telling me? What happens if a sick child rides on a dragon’s back?

  An ailing child, if placed on the back of a dragon, will be completely healed and become whole, as if the ailment had never occurred.

  Really? Why didn’t I know that?

  I never told you?

  No, you didn’t. You make it sound like this is a bad thing. Why?

  It’s complicated.

  Uncomplicate it for me. Healing a sick child cannot possibly be bad.

  I see that I need to explain. When a wyverian willingly takes a terminally ill person on their back and the rider is inevitably healed, then a shachar will be placed upon them.

  A what?

  A shachar. A life debt. The rider becomes indebted to the dragon. Forever.

  Oh, snap.

  Chapter 10 – A Dragon’s Dilemma

  Steve stared at Cecil and Jonquil in shock. A life debt? So that meant if little Aislinn were to ride on Pryllan’s back then she would be forever indebted to the dragon? Did that make her Pryllan’s slave? That didn’t sit well with him at all.

  “What is it?” Jonquil inquired as he hopped down from his seat on the stump. He had been alerted by the alarmed look that had passed over Steve’s face. “What’s happened?”

  “Hold on,” Steve quietly told him. “Now we have another problem.”

  “What problem?” Cecil worriedly asked.

  Steve held up a finger, signaling him to wait a moment.

  It means, Pryllan’s voice cut in, that until the shachar has been repaid then the child would have to accompany me. I don’t think Kahvel would approve of this.

  Tell me about this shachar thing. Is it some type of spell? How is it created?

  All wyverians have the ability to heal, Pryllan began. We –

  Hold up, Steve interrupted. That makes no sense. I’ve seen you dragons in peril before. I’ve seen dragons close to death that were unable to heal themselves.

  We can heal others, Pryllan clarified, but not ourselves.

  Figures. You can heal other people but not yourselves. How annoying is that?

  Very, Pryllan agreed.

  So let’s say I have a small cut on my finger. If I was to hop on your back, and my finger was healed, then would I have a life debt with you? If that’s the case then I must have at least a dozen of these shachars with you.

  Unlikely. A shachar is created only if the ailment is terminal. May I continue?

  Sorry. Go ahead.

  The more severe an ailment then the stronger likelihood a shachar will be created. There has been an instance where a shachar was created that wasn’t based on healing a fatal wound, but that was only one occurrence and I don’t know the specifics. All the others, which number less than a dozen, mind you, were created after a fatally wounded rider was healed.

  Several seconds of silence ensued.

  Pryllan? Are you still there?

  Aye. You are my rider? I have saved your life?

  I know where you’re going with this. I was joking before. No, there isn’t one between us.

  How?

  What?

  How have I saved your life?

  Oh, you know, swooping in to save the day, that kind of thing.

  So you were never physically injured?

  Right.

  I understand.

  Can a shachar be broken?

  Broken? No. It must be repaid.

  Something tells me you don’t want this shachar, do you?

  Correct.

  What if the child returns to their home and you return to yours? Couldn’t you just pretend it never happened?

  Someone suffering the effects of a shachar is unable to be at peace until the life debt has been absolved.

  What? Are you saying the kid’s going to be in pain?

  That is not what I said. Let me give you an example. You say you have a mate.

  Right. Her name is Sarah.

  If Sarah were taken against her will do you think you would be able to be at peace knowing she was out there waiting for you to rescue her?

  Oh. I think I’m beginning to understand.

  The child might not be able to survive being bur
dened with a shachar.

  Then here’s what we need to do. Find out what it’ll take to break one of these shachars.

  I’ve already told you what will absolve one.

  In that case find out if there’s anything else that can do it, too. We need to know everything there is about them if we’re going to break it.

  We won’t be able to break it.

  Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Think positive. We’ll find a way to make everyone happy.

  How can you be so certain?

  You need to trust me, Pryllan.

  How odd. I feel as though I do.

  Good. If we can break this shachar, will you consent to being ridden by a dwarf?

  Aye.

  Thank you, my friend.

  I must be crazy.

  Why? Because you’ve agreed to give a ride to a dwarf child while telepathically communicating with a human who you’ve learned will be your rider in the future?

  That about sums it up.

  You’re taking a lot on faith. I appreciate that.

  What do we do now?

  I think now would be the time for us to contact the child’s father and see if he was aware of any of this, and if he isn’t then he needs to be told about it.

  If you do then the dwarves will learn of the existence of the shachar.

  Not if we swear him to secrecy.

  Will he agree?

  We’re going to save his daughter’s life. Yes, he will. He’d better.

  If the child’s father agrees to the shachar that will be created how soon will you need my services?

  Almost immediately. I’m under a serious time crunch. I have to be back at a certain place at a certain time so that Cecil and I can return home.

  Acknowledged.

  Prylllan, let me ask you something. How often does this type of situation come up?

  By that do you mean how many shachars have been created? Not many.

  How long ago was the last?

  Several hundred years.

  Is this a closely guarded wyverian secret? I’ve known you for years now and not once has this ever come up.

  It is a closely guarded secret, Pryllan admitted. Ordinarily this subject never comes up as there simply are no more riders. I’m sure you can understand the importance of keeping what we have talked about secret.

  I do. Humans already want to give dragon riding a try. If it becomes known that hopping on the back of a dragon would cure any sickness or ailment then humans everywhere would be searching for you dragons. Can’t you just see it now? Humans all across the kingdom would be throwing themselves on the backs of the dragons, just to heal a wound or cure a disease.

  Precisely. I trust you will not mention this to anyone else?

  Mum’s the word.

  I am not familiar with –

  Sorry. It means that I’ll keep your secret safe. I’m pretty sure Selwyn, that’s the girl’s father, is going to want to do this. The alternative is death for his daughter, which I know he doesn’t want. Once we get them Topside how soon before you can make it here?

  Unknown. Where are you?

  Umm, east of the lake?

  Can you be more specific?

  I wish I could. Can’t you just look through my eyes like you usually do?

  Once more Steve felt Pryllan’s shock course through his veins.

  We have shared senses?

  Er, yeah, many times. Is that bad?

  You have given me much to consider, friend Steve. Very well. I will access your senses now.

  Go ahead. You have my permission.

  Several moments passed in silence as Steve fidgeted from one foot to the other.

  Well?

  Well what? I’m waiting for you to look around. All I see now is the trunk of a tree.

  Oh. Sorry.

  Steve turned to face the west. He walked the short distance through the trees until he arrived at the valley’s edge. He looked out across the open valley and then slowly turned to look left and then right.

  I have seen enough, Pryllan told him. I can locate you now. Contact me again when you are ready.

  I will. Thanks again!

  You are welcome.

  Pryllan’s presence faded from his mind. He turned to look back at his two friends. Both Jonquil and Cecil had followed him out of the woods and into the valley.

  “Good news?” Cecil inquired, hopefully.

  “Yes. She’s agreed.”

  Jonquil smiled.

  “I don’t know how you convinced them but I do know my father will be pleased. He just wants to see my sister smile again.”

  “We need to get in touch with Selwyn as soon as possible,” Steve informed the dwarf. His face had become stern. “There are pros and cons to this dragon ride.”

  “I’m not sure I follow,” Jonquil admitted.

  Steve strode purposely back to the stump and waited for Jonquil to open the door.

  “I’ll explain everything once we see your father.”

  ****

  “I had no idea. I swear!”

  “You see now why we had to find someplace quiet to talk? Pryllan is agreeing to do you a huge favor, Selwyn. I hope you remember that.”

  “I will be forever indebted to the dragons for this.”

  “You do understand the consequences of this life debt? If we can’t find a way to break it, or absolve it, or whatever, then little Aislinn’s going to suffer.”

  “How do we break it?” Selwyn anxiously asked as he twisted the tip of his beard around one of his thumbs.

  “I don’t know. I asked Pryllan to discreetly check to see what else might be able to break a life debt. Logically, the only thing I can think of is if Aislinn were to somehow save Pryllan’s life.”

  “How would my daughter be able to save a dragon’s life?” Selwyn demanded.

  “Lower your voice!” Steve hissed back at him. They were standing in a narrow alley that was separating two buildings near the outskirts of town. He cast a quick glance down the darkened corridor they were standing in to make sure no one was listening. “I’m just telling you that you need to be prepared. If Pryllan does find something, and you don’t like the answer, you need to prepare yourself. For Aislinn’s sake. Got it?”

  “I will pay whatever price she asks,” Selwyn vowed. “If what you say is true, and my little Aislinn lives to see another year, I will do whatever must be done.”

  “You do understand that Pryllan doesn’t want this shachar any more than you do?”

  “Aye. When is the dragon expecting my daughter?”

  “Her name is Pryllan, and she’s expecting to see your daughter as soon as I tell her we’re all ready. As much as I’d like to do this tonight it’s probably dark up there by now. We’ll wait for first light. I think we should let Aislinn enjoy this. She’s earned it.”

  Selwynn nodded, pleased.

  “She has, aye. Very well, we’ll retire for the evening and… do you and your accomplice have lodging for tonight?”

  Steve shook his head.

  “No, we don’t.”

  “If you don’t mind sharing a room the two of you may stay with me and my family.”

  Steve and Cecil both assured him those arrangements were fine.

  The following morning Steve awoke to the smell of roasting meat. His mouth began to water. He looked over at Cecil, who was snoring just as loudly as he was sure he had been, and nudged him in the ribs.

  “Rise and shine, sleepyhead. It’s time to get going.”

  Cecil groaned and slowly sat up on the bed. About to protest, his nostrils flared as he picked up scents coming from the kitchen.

  “Good heavens. That smells like pot roast!”

  “Rest assured it’s better than any pot roast you’ve ever had. No one can roast meat and potatoes better than a dwarf. If there were dwarf women back on my world then I’m sure they’d all have their own cooking shows with legions of fans.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “
Yes. Without a doubt. Want a piece of advice? Don’t ask where the meat comes from.”

  Cecil paused in his attempt to lace his boots.

  “I’m sorry? What was that?”

  “Take it from someone who’s way more finicky than you ever will be that the food is good here. Don’t ask too many questions about the meat. See any cows around here? Things work differently here. Hmm, that reminds me. There’s something else you ought to be aware of.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Dwarf women have beards, too.”

  “Er, excuse me?”

  “Their beards are just as full and pronounced as the men.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Very. You didn’t see Torya last night when Selwyn brought us inside so you didn’t see her. I’m telling you now so you don’t freak out when you see her today.”

  “Does that mean Selwyn’s daughter has a beard, too?”

  Steve scoffed.

  “No. Too young.”

  “Oh. I’ll, ah, try not to react any differently to her than I would to him.”

  “Good plan.”

  After breakfast Cecil belched loudly and covered his mouth with embarrassment.

  “I am so terribly sorry. Please forgive me.”

  Steve grinned and slapped a friendly hand on Cecil’s back.

  “Nonsense. Every cook loves to be complimented. Isn’t that right, Torya?”

  Selwyn’s wife, a stout middle aged dwarf wearing a dark blue smock with a steel gray apron tied around her waist turned to bow appreciatively back at them. Her beard, while not quite as full or long as Selwyn’s, had been braided and tucked into her apron so as to get it out of her way when she had been cooking.

  “I’m just not used to having beer for breakfast,” Cecil whispered conspiratorially. He grinned. “I might have to bring it up to AnnaBelle.”

  “At least you drank it,” Steve returned. “I’ve tried dwarf ale before and I don’t care for it. Then again I don’t really care for any type of beer.”

  “Then what did you drink?”

  “The green pitcher has water in it. Quite honestly it’s the best tasting water I’ve ever had. Talk about pure mountain spring water.”

  “I would have preferred the water over the ale,” Cecil quietly moaned.

  “Well, now you know.”