by Sam Hall
“Probably a combination of self-interest and altruism, like most people.” His eyes dropped to my arm, where they widened slightly at the sight of my very red dragon tattoo. “Well, I’m here now. Tell me about the adventures you’ve had since the last time I saw you.”
“You don’t want to know,” I said.
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t,” he said, turning when M padded back into the shop. Obviously, he’d decided I needed privacy and had slept in the storeroom. “You’ve got a new dog for one.” Merlin’s spine straightened and he frowned as M drew closer. He peered closer at the dog, “Well, well, what do we have here?” He flicked his fingers wide, familiar green squiggles appearing in the air between them. His hand went to his chin as he looked closely at the Words, his eyes glancing from Miazydar, then to me. Seemingly satisfied, he dismissed the Words with a hand and turned to me. “A dragon posing as a dog? That spell of your grandmother’s is positively fascinating. So, what else has been happening?”
“Look, I have to go to Damorica and let Miazydar spread his wings today. Perhaps we could debrief another day?”
“A trip through the Damorican portal seems like just the thing. Shall we go?”
I had meant only me and my dragon, but could I bring myself to tell the foremost Western magician to piss off? No, I couldn’t. He made comments on my form and motion as I opened the portal, some complimentary, some not. I nodded, everyone seemed to have something to say about everything all of a sudden, and walked into the bright light of Bordertown.
“Morning, Mistress Tess,” a tall deer-like creature said as we passed.
“Mistress Ember, I brought these for the kids,” I said, digging out a couple of plastic army men from the Damorican bag I kept ready for when I travelled through the portal.
“Fawns, mistress. It’s Fanny that has kids.”
“Right, sorry, it’s an Earth thing. We call all children kids.”
“Well, they’ll be delighted to add to their collection. They’ve damned near played the other two you gave them to pieces.”
I smiled, “I’ll bring more next time.”
“This is Bordertown, isn’t it? A handy place for a portal. Close to the markets and the merchants,” Merlin said, looking around.
“Yep, now I’ve got to go to Natty’s for a second, so stay here.” He looked quite confused to be told what to do, but I just went up to the blue-painted door and knocked.
“Hey Tess! Hey Miazydar!” I felt better as soon as I saw Natty’s delighted expression, his ears swivelling wildly, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me into a brisk hug. “How’s it goin’? Where the Sariahan grape skins what your customer was looking for?” He let me go and dropped down to give my dragon a scratch on his chest.
“Yes! Better than what they were used to, so we might need to try and set something up with the nomads there. I know they can only collect it at the oases but…” I smacked myself in the forehead. “I’m not here to talk business. We’re going for a fly and I wanted to drop these off.” I pulled out a crackling packet of double-coat Tim Tams and his smile went wide.
“You spoil me! I want to eat them one at a time, make the packet last, but when you have that first one…”
“Something I’m well aware of! That’s why I’m giving them to you, your metabolism can take it.”
“So you two are off for a fly?”
“Yes, it’s been too long,” Miazydar said with a shake.
“You don’t want to come?” I said.
“Sorry, but never again after that last time. Miazydar really saved our bacon, but urgh,” he clutched at his belly, “once was well and truly enough. Drop in on your way home. There’s been some news that might be useful.”
“A change in the government? Are they finally reducing the tariffs?”
“Come back, have a coffee. Miazydar can do a sweep of the city, make sure Gump and the like know that McKinnon and McKinnon have the support of dragonkind.” My dragon just panted, looking like he was grinning at the idea.
When we made it out into the town square, Miazydar let go of his disguise, a flurry of gasps and shouts coming as he stretched. It didn’t cause quite the uproar that it had, people had begun to get used to seeing the red dragon appear each weekend. We had the support of the government after getting rid of what was left of the royal family. I admired the brilliant gleam of his red scales as I came closer, placing my hand on his shoulder, his great head turning to look at me as I climbed onto his back. I took my seat in between one of the big spikes. “Well,” I said to Merlin, “you coming?”
Miazydar launched himself into the air with little flurry and a squeak from Merlin. I watched his great wings beat, pushing us higher and higher before he stabilised. I pulled the safety goggles from my bag over my eyes and wound my scarf around my face, leaning in.
The land of Damorica spread before us, verdant and green and only occasionally pocked by civilisation. The discarded lumps of the ruins of the Briginitian Empire seemed to overshadow all subsequent development, great, grey, chunks of stone of mysterious origin. The wind tore at my hair and roared in my ears, something I could’ve stopped, but never did. It was as if all my worries, frustrations, irritations of the week were being pulled out of me, though my hair was a bitch to brush afterwards. I raised my arms up in the air with a whoop. I had to hold on tight with my legs, something that would never have occurred to me when I occupied the body of a dragon rider. They were trained to run up and down the spines of dragons, fighting while flying with only their balance and grip to keep them from falling to their death and for a short time, I had been able to do just that.
Where should we go? Miazydar asked.
You choose. Somewhere sheltered, it’s bloody cold today.
We’ll go to the Stone Circle.
“By all the gods, I’ve forgotten the cold of travelling a-dragonback,” Merlin said when we landed. I slid from Miazydar’s back, giving him a pat on his flank. He curled his neck around towards me, me stepping into the curve and resting my head against it. For a moment it was just him and me; the rest of the world could go fuck itself.
All will be well, he said.
It is, here, away from everyone else. Maybe we should just run away.
Isn’t that how you met me? You have the heart of a dragon, my love, you need not run from anything.
This is what I’d imagined it was going to be like, going through the portal. I looked around at the standing megaliths in front of us, at some time raised by someone for a purpose that escaped me. I thought it would be pastoral landscapes and friendly people and exotic animals.
Well, we’ve managed two of the three today.
My eyes moved to where Merlin was conjuring a range of human comforts. Soon he had a few wingback chairs, a side table with a pot of steaming tea and several fine china cups and saucers set up.
You don’t think Merlin friendly?
I don’t trust ones such as he. Their motivations are rarely transparent, and if you’re able to deduce one layer of their games, you miss the others. Why is he here?
I’m avoiding asking.
Hmm…
I took the other seat and picked up the teacup once Merlin had poured, dropping sugar and a little milk in it.
“This was a predecessor to your grandmother’s portal at one point,” Merlin said. “We have our own in Wiltshire. Fallen out of use, of course, but for a time it was the only means of travelling between the dimensions.”
“So people travelled from England to Damorica?”
He smiled, his teeth blinding white. “Between all of them. Fancy some tea?”
“Um, sure.”
I’m going to go and catch some breakfast. Be careful of the wizard, M said.
No pinkies, yeah?
Of course not.
Or anything sentient.
He sighed. I am going to have to spend all morning interviewing what I catch to meet your criteria.
Love you and good luck.
“You communicate telepathically,” Merlin said, looking out at the landscape beyond over the rim of his teacup.
“Yes. I’m sorry, that was probably rude. We don’t have to do it here, but it’s become such a habit.”
He shook his head and smiled. “No matter, I have had many such conversations myself. It can be a great pleasure, to be able to share exchanges without the threat of being overheard. It seems somehow more intimate. Is that what you find?”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding, feeling my body go limp for what felt like the first time in forever. “Yes. Sometimes he’s that childhood friend I always wanted. I was sure that if I spoke the right words, my teddy bear or my dolls would become animate and be my secret friend, but they never did.”
“Probably a good thing, animating dolls tends to be done by putting lost souls into them and rarely works out well. I think they explored this in your world in that film Chucky.”
“You’ve seen Chucky? That is so bizarre! But yeah, talking to Miazydar… my sister doesn’t overhear and try to either tease me out of my mood or fix the problem. He listens, knows my every thought. There’s so much I don’t have to explain to him, he just knows.”
“Such as? Tess, you were such a bright young person when we met and now a pall of sadness hangs over you. I appreciate that your sister’s fumblings grow irritating, but I admit, I see grounds for her concern.”
I felt it then, the huge undigested lump of emotional shit sitting in my throat, too big to get out, too big to swallow down. I was able to ignore it most of the time if I stuck to my routine and didn’t engage in personal conversations. Damn Ash, damn Merlin, damn all of them for asking, always asking what the hell was wrong. How did I know? I’d been a superhero; I smashed that fucking rapey arsehole of a prince, burned the whole damned manor down in a blaze of glory. Everything I’d wanted as a child had come true. I had a portal to unknown numbers of dimensions; I made my living dealing with creatures I’d have been ecstatic to see one of. What did I have to be sad about? What? What? What?!
I felt the gap in conversation growing longer, larger, less socially acceptable. I swallowed frantically, but the lump remained. I needed to say something, anything, to deflect the attention away from me and back onto the other person. “Tess,” Merlin said, leaning forward and placing a hand on my knee. I looked at him, eyes wide, tears beading in the corners, not able to do a thing other than making an inarticulate croak. “Ah, Tess.” He flicked his finger, a tiny little gesture and the pressure in my chest began to ease.
“I’m bloody miserable most of the time and I don’t know why.” The words fought me as I tried to get them out, digging their claws into my throat to stop them. I panted for a moment then looked over at him with slitted eyes, I’d gone through this to pacify him, to fulfil my side of a conversation.
He nodded, patting my knee, a very Dad-like gesture for someone who appeared the same age as me. “When I was teaching you how to open the portal, you seemed filled with the most infectious excitement and zeal. What happened to that?”
I laughed at that. Past Tess was so damned clueless I felt like smacking her. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, expecting an adventure, that a bit of pluck and determination would get her through. I told him this.
“Ah, so what do you expect now when you come through the portal? You sit in front of an old dimensional gate, looking out onto the ruins of an empire built by a race of giants. Your dragon seeks his food in the fields below. Doesn’t this live up to your childhood dreams? Doesn’t it surpass it?”
I looked out to where Miazydar skimmed across a nearby field, claws outstretched. They snapped around the body of an antelope looking thing, he neatly dispatched it with a snap of its neck. “Yeah, of course it does.”
“No, Tess, not intellectually. How do you feel?”
The tiny Miazydar in the distance hunched over his kill, ripping the corpse apart with his massive jaws and gulping the meat down. “I guess, it’s like that,” I said, pointing to the dragon. “In the books, it’s all flying to victory and the loving bond between human and animal. But the reality of Miazydar feeding is there’s blood and guts and animal shit, the screaming of the animal when he kills it, watching its eyes go dull. Those descriptions are lacking, of course they are. No one wants to read that, but I guess it’s like something was taken from me. I’d read comics and books and got invested in the hero’s journey, been completely carried away by it. Now, I read or watch movies and I’m like ‘that’s not how it would go’ or ‘it wouldn’t feel like that, you’re missing the crushing alienation that comes from killing your enemy, the complete lack of vindication, the wondering what the fuck you’ve just done’. I don’t enjoy what I used to enjoy, I don’t love what I used to love. Instead, I work: I build contacts, source special products, things I would’ve imagined spending my whole life on crazy quests to find before, to make a buck. I make sure we have the right food on hand and cover-up for Ash’s gaffes and then I go home and talk to my dragon, not sure what else to do.”
Merlin smiled, but it wasn’t necessarily a happy thing or a sad thing. I cocked my head, trying to read his face. “You’re going through a transition, Tess. You’ve left behind your childhood—.”
“But I’m nearly 30!”
“Then it took a little longer for you to get there. The rose-coloured glasses are off and you’re not sure you like what you see. The thing you’re missing is what lies beyond. Adult life is filled with grinding, unending boredom, but it’s also about choices, real choices, that can have a positive impact on the world, to be a part of solving some of the wicked problems that plague our existence.”
“So what, oh great sage, I just need to commit to world peace and all will be well?”
He laughed at this. “You know that’s not true from the books you read. You commit to the values that are important to you and then you work like the devil to try and live your life by them. Find what you value, Tess, then you’ll know what to do, no matter the time of day. Think about it and I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”
Of course, that’s when he vanished.
“Values,” I muttered, “like I don’t have values already and look where they’ve got me? Not like he’d stick around to help me work out what the bloody things are.” I grumbled some more but there was something about the Circle. My words seemed to just dissipate, fall flat and disappear in the crisp, cool air. I sat and looked at the ruins, the greenery, grumpily over-analysing everything he had said until I could’ve repeated it, word for word. At some point I’d reached into my bag and grabbed out my phone, pulling up a note, tapping my thumb against the side of the case. What did I value? What was important to me?
Miazydar swept in some time later, looking me over quizzically as I tapped away. What’re you doing?
Working out what’s important to me.
Me obviously. Is this the wizard’s work? Are you going to start making those deplorable slogans emblazoned over images of sunsets and beaches?
I stopped what I was doing and closed the vision board I was currently creating. No.
Your world never ceases to amaze me. In Aravisia, young people go out on a quest to find out what’s important to them. Much more useful than this digital masturbation you all seem so preoccupied with, though I admit, the death toll is lower.
So, should we go and find a fair maiden, or small village being oppressed to save? I said with a smile.
You can’t seek a quest, you just need to be on the lookout for calls to action. I felt a familiar paralysing wave of fear turn my body to ice. You have nothing to fear; you blundered into an alternate realm, into a situation that should’ve certainly seen you served as dinner, and instead you assassinated a prince. Your grandmother was quite the witch, she has laid a spell on the two of you that seems to ensure, no guarantee, that you emerge successfully from anything you do. Imagine what you could do if you decided you wanted something?
We swept over Bordertown, Miazyda
r flying in large, lazy circles as we slowly descended. It’d taken a while, but I found it restful now that I’d learned to trust the dragon to get us to the ground safely.
I’ll always look after you, he said, then his head jerked up. I followed the length of his neck, squinting at the sky through my foggy safety goggles. I felt his spine ripple as his wings began to work, no longer simply gliding.
What’s going on? I said.
I’m not sure. Looks like at least one other dragon.
Dragon! We need to get down on the ground and through the portal!
You need not fear; you are a dragon rider.
Dragon passenger more like. I’ve got no spear, I can’t fight on your back.
I doubt you’ll need to, they don’t look aggressive. I’m just going to take a look.
I saw the two of them much more clearly as we drew closer. The dragons approached us from the left as we swept past to the right, heads whipping around to check the other out. One of the riders held his hand out, making the international gesture for ‘go down’. Miazydar snorted at this and pulled away, taking a much more abrupt route to the ground. He dropped like a stone, much like he did when catching prey, pulling up with a flap of his wings when we got closer.
I felt like I almost fell from the dragon’s back. He landing in a ready crouch, his tail beginning to lash, something that was upsetting the people still lingering in the square. Tone it down, M, I said. There’s still people and stalls at this time of day.
Get behind my wings, was all he would say.
What’s going on? You shift and we can go. Nothing’s following us through the portal if we don’t want them to. Let’s go.
No, we don’t run; he said with a shake of his head. He raised it regally as other dragons landed, sending whoever remained in the square running. One dragon was OK, but three?
The riders dropped from the shoulders of their beasts with easy grace, close fitting helmets removed and tucked under arms as they ambled towards us. I took a look at the faces, kind of human-looking, though both sported the kind of pointy ears, complicated hairstyles and superior attitude of high elf cosplayers. One was male and had long black hair, the other was a female with honey blonde hair and bright blue eyes. “Who the hell are you and what do you think you’re doing, flying an unregistered dragon over Damorican airspace?”
