by GARY DARBY
However, on the inside, my mind writhes in torturous hurt and rage as those terrible scenes once again play out in my mind.
Cara’s hand is gentle in mine. Her eyes tell me that she can see my pain, just as I know hers. I can also see that she doesn’t want me to hurt, not like she does. She gives me a little encouraging nod as if saying that she trusts Golden Wind and her purpose is worth the anguish.
I let out a shuddering breath, walk over to a rounded boulder and sit. Cara sets herself beside me, and both Golden Wind and Wind Song stand before us as if both would hear what I have to say.
“It’s night,” I begin. “Our cottage is burning, engulfed in flames. I’m crying, screaming for my father, mother, sister, brother, but I can’t find them. Then, out of the smoke, my mother appears. She grabs me and pushes me out an open window to the outside.
“I hit the ground. I’m shrieking, screaming in agony. The dragon breath that seared one side of me is as if a hundred barbed whips had cracked against my skin, burning, blistering.”
Choking, I have to swallow before I can continue. “For an instant, I see my mother in the window frame. She screams, ‘Run, Hooper, run!’ And then she’s gone as if the flames had pulled her back inside.”
I stop, look down at my scruffy tunic and pants. “My clothes are in tatters, nothing’s left but smoldering rags that hang from burnt flesh. My legs are weak, unsteady, they can’t hold me as I stumble away from the fire. I scream again for my mother . . . my father, but no one answers.”
I stop, shut my eyes tight from the anguish. Cara once again takes my hand in hers. I feel a warm breath on my face and open my eyes to see Golden Wind, her muzzle almost touching my face.
“It’s all right, Hooper, we’re here. Go on, tell us the rest.”
Waiting a moment, I take a breath and say, “The smoke is so dark and thick. I can’t breathe, but somehow, I stumble away from the inferno. I can still see the flames, they’re like crimson fangs that reach up to the hut’s gable, tearing and biting huge holes in the thatch. The firestorm devours everything it touches.”
Placing both hands in my face, I lean over in pain from the next memory. “Then I hear them. The wails and screams of my family trapped inside that blazing hellhole. They call for help, they plead for mercy.”
Tears well in my eyes as Cara leans over to drape an arm around my shoulders to hold me tight. Then I choke out, “Neither of which came that night.”
I have to stop, again. After a few moments, I find my voice and continue. “I—I stumble away until I’m at the forest’s edge. I hear a loud rustling, like a sharp breeze through a grove of tall aspens, and look up.
“High overhead, I see a dragon that circles in the air like a vulture waiting for the final moment of death. Then, it dives down, spewing a stream of dragon fire. The fire is like a flaming spear that plunges into our cottage, and when it does, our home, my home explodes. I’m thrown back by the blast and land against the trunk of a nearby oaken tree.
“I—I don’t know how long I lay there, too scared to move, too frightened that the dragon will come back for me. After a bit, I hear a loud noise, and I look up to find dragons milling around what was left of our smoldering home.”
I stare straight into Golden Wind’s eyes. “Three emerald dragons.”
Swallowing, I let out a long breath. “My mother’s last words to run force me away from the tree, away from the dragons. I remember whimpering in pain, but somehow I pull myself up and try to run, but my legs won’t carry me. I stumble and fall, over and over again.
“Finally, I can’t go any further and collapse to the ground. I’m crying from the hurt and from the agony of knowing that I’ve lost all that I know, all that I love.
“Then I hear a noise behind me and roll to my back. I can see the three greens; they’re coming for me. I wail in fear and try to crawl away, but it’s no use.
“There’s moonlight through the trees, and it catches their scales, and each shines like an enormous emerald gem. They move toward me, and all I can think is that they’re going to kill me just as they murdered my family.
“Then, one enormous dragon comes closer and lowers its head. Its eyes seem to glow with green fire. Somehow, someway, I get to my feet and try to run. My foot catches on a root, and I fall. My head hits a rock.”
I pause, straighten, and peer up at Golden Wind. “Darkness closes around me, and the last thing I remember are dragon talons in the air, reaching out for me . . .” my voice trails off into a whisper, “reaching out as if to squeeze the very life from me.”
35
Stopping to breathe deeply, I try to slow down my wildly thumping heart before I can slowly begin again. “When I awoke the next morning, I was lying in a woodsman’s cart with a blanket over me. The driver said he was Joaquim the Woodcutter, and he was taking me to Draconstead.”
Shaking my head, I say, “I don’t know how Joaquim found me and why he took me to Draconstead, he would never say.”
My sigh is long as if it carries all my feelings out and away. I feel dead, drained of mind and spirt. Lifting my eyes, I say, “That’s all I remember. . . All I ever, ever want to remember.”
Cara puts her forehead against the side of my face and I can feel her tears on my cheek. “Oh, Hooper, I’m so sorry. You’ve had to live with that all this time.”
She pulls my face around to hers. “I understand,” she whispers, “after today, I truly, truly understand.”
“I know,” I whisper back, “but how, oh, how I wish that you didn’t.”
Golden Wind lets us stay that way for several moments before she brings her muzzle close. “Hooper, I want you to think of the emerald dragon whose eyes glowed with green fire. I want you to recall his face. Close your eyes and see him in your mind.”
I shake my head. “I don’t—”
“Please, Hooper,” Golden Wind implores, “it’s important that you do.”
Hesitant, unsure of why she wants me to relive the painful memory again, I take a breath and gaze at Cara. She nods encouragingly and squeezes my hand. “You can do it, Hooper. Golden Wind wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
I close my eyes tightly. I can see the green dragon coming toward me until he’s almost upon me. Then the golden whispers, “Now remember Pengillstorr Noraven as you saw him just before he gave you his tear jewel.”
I snap my eyes wide open. I jerk upright, my heart pounding in my chest. “It’s him! It’s Pengillstorr!”
“Yes,” Golden Wind acknowledges quietly and then says,
Green their scales were set to be
Green to match both leaf and tree
Created to wander the forest and dale
Given to roam over hill and vale
Born they were to live life free
Never to stand on unbent knee
Three were called to serve upright
Three to serve as sentinel day and night
Ever to watch for the one to come
Three to guard the cutter’s son
And for him ‘tis the hilted stone
Emerald of power to hand and bone
And for this, I gladly do my part
A willing spirit, ready to depart
Always together, never apart
To remember ever, the sacrifice of the heart.
“Oh, Hooper, don’t you see?” Cara says, her eyes swimming in tears, “the emeralds were guarding you; you are truly the cutter’s son. A woodcutter’s son.”
“Yes,” Golden Wind murmurs, “and it wasn’t Pengillstorr or the other green dragons that murdered your family in the forest. It was a Wilder red sent by Vay.”
My head spins in sudden understanding and the dawning realization that through all these years, I had laid the blame wrongly.
It hadn’t been an emerald dragon I had seen over our house; it was a scarlet Wilder war dragon. It was his dragon fire that seared me and destroyed my home and my family.
Then, another thought interrupts my sudden
realization, and I say in a bitter tone, “Then if the emeralds were supposed to be ‘sentinels day and night’ to protect us, then why . . .”
My voice trails off as I see Golden Wind’s head droop low and her eyes close. Her expression of anguish and hurt is every bit as sincere and real as my own, or Cara’s. For an instant, I think that she is going to shed a tear, she is so sad.
Instead, she slowly says, “Yes, the Gaelian Fae chose Pengillstorr as the guardian over your family. Only, Vay betrayed and deceived him. By the time he and the others returned, it was too late.”
She hesitates, her sigh a rumble deep in her throat, and raises her head to look at me. “Somehow, your mother was able to get you out of the cottage before the crimson could finish the deed and it was Pengillstorr who found you afterward.
“Oh, Hooper, you have no idea of the depth of his torment, his anguish, how he suffered when he realized that he had failed.
“That he found you still alive gave him some comfort, and he decided that the only way to protect you was to hide you in such a way that no one would ever realize that you were the cutter’s son.”
“Draconstead,” I breathe.
“A place,” the golden explains, “where your life would be so lowly, so unnoticed that no one would ever speak of or wonder about you. And all the while you were there, he was never far away, always watching, always—protecting.”
I whirl to her. “The forest! He shielded me from the witch.”
“A witch? No, Hooper,” Golden Wind reminds me, “but Vay herself. She had found out that you still lived and wanted you dead.”
She draws in a breath and her voice grows firm. “Pengillstorr was warned that Vay knew of your whereabouts. Knowing that he had failed you before, he gave you the one thing that he possessed that would protect you and give you strength to face each day. To face all that was to come afterward.”
“His dragon jewel,” I answer.
“Not just his tear-gem,” she answered. “Hooper, your gemstone carries his life force. Wherever you go with the crystal, he will be with you, and whenever he can, he will protect you, strengthen you, help you to grow.”
I touch the hard lump in my tunic. “But,” I reply in a puzzled tone, “the gem doesn’t always work.”
“No, not always,” she answers. “Remember, he was of the forest, of the greenery, and that is what Phigby meant when he said that its powers came from and acted upon the living things of Erdron.
“But also know, Hooper, that you cannot become so dependent on the gem that you forget that you must sometimes fight your own battles, choose your own paths, seek and find your own way.
“If you didn’t, then you would become as a slave to the gem, always looking to it for answers, instead of using your own mind and most importantly, your free agency.
“And to lose one’s ability to choose would be as evil as living under Vay’s hand. So yes, there will be times when you are left on your own so that you come to trust yourself and to learn to fight your own battles.”
I bring out the gemstones and gaze at them deeply, reverently. My voice is barely above a whisper, “Pengillstorr was watching over me, and his tear jewel was his sacrifice of the heart and now through another sacrifice comes a second gem.”
The golden gives me the barest of nods and a gentle smile, her way of showing me that she knows that I now understand who Pengillstorr truly was—Friend and Protector, and not just of the forest.
And Wind Rover? A friend I never knew I had.
I try to take it all in, but there’s so much, so many new ideas, so many new feelings. My head is a whirl of jumbled thoughts until one becomes apparent and striking.
Facing the golden, I ask, “Why me?” I ask with questioning eyes. “Why my family?”
The golden turns sober eyes to me. “I cannot answer that now, Hooper.” She pauses before saying somberly, “If we finish this journey, you will have your answer at its end.”
“If,” I murmur. “A small word that can lead to big consequences.”
“Indeed,” Golden Wind affirms.
Cara and I sit quiet and still on the stone for a long time. Me, trying to make sense of my jumbled and confusing thoughts, Cara, lost, no doubt, in thinking of family and home.
“All these years,” I murmur to her, breaking the silence, “I’ve hated so deeply, it was like a poison that filled my mind and my heart.”
I turn my head to the golden. “But still, it was a dragon that killed my family.”
She nods sadly. “Yes, Hooper, and that is something that can never be changed. But, Hooper, it was one dragon, not all dragons.
“And until you drive that hatred from your mind and spirit, then Pengillstorr’s gift will inevitably end up as nothing more than worthless dross.
“If you must hate, then despise that which is truly malevolent, such as Vay and her evil desire of unrighteous dominion over this world.”
Golden Wind lowers her head and her eyes, gentle but compelling, to stare deep into mine. “But only you can make the decision of what his gift will ultimately be.”
After a bit, we walk over to gaze at the trail that winds through the small valley and then up into the mountains. A steady stream of Golians trudge up the valley, and there are still more coming.
Dronopolis is rapidly emptying, its inhabitants fleeing before the raging, unchecked firestorm. Here and there, Queen Alonya’s warriors tend to the old and young, guiding them up the rocky pathway, while others carry bows notched with an arrow, a wary eye fixed skyward.
It is a flood of refugees, expelled from their homes by the rampant, searing fires, seeking haven in their mountain strongholds; a respite from the Wilder onslaught that very well could come again.
From the darkness, we hear the footsteps of our comrades who’ve come to join us. I draw in a breath and turn to Phigby. “We came here to seek a haven. What do we do now? Where do we go? And wherever we go, is this what we will face each time?”
Phigby scans the bedraggled line of survivors. “That may well be, Hooper, for I fear that this may be but the first of many such battles to come.”
“If that is going to be the way of it,” Queen Alonya declares to me, “then you may need this.” She holds out my emerald sword.
“Where—” I begin before she interrupts to say, “Katus and several of her warriors went to ensure that the monster was dead. They found this buried deep in its skull and brought it to me.”
I nod gratefully and sheathe the emerald sword into my scabbard. It feels snug and secure on my hip as if that’s where it’s supposed to be.
Queen Alonya takes a step, and turns to face us. “You came to Golian seeking to invoke Escher’s vow, only to find a usurper sitting on the throne and your quest seemingly in vain. But thanks to you, she no longer reigns, and Escher’s line is restored to its rightful place.”
She turns and gestures toward Desma, General Katus, and two warriors who stand respectfully at a distance. They come close and bow their heads.
To us, she says, “Golian law states that in the mouths of three or more witnesses shall every word be proven. We have more than the necessary three here for what I need.”
Queen Alonya straightens and in a commanding voice pronounces, “This queen swears to uphold Escher’s vow in whatever manner my people can, and in whatever way I can.”
The queen stops and says, “However, from this moment on, I do away with the proclamation that no Drach is welcome within my realm. If those who come are as valiant, as honest, as trustworthy as these, then they shall evermore be welcome within this domain.”
Queen Alonya draws her sword with one hand and swings her bow off her shoulder with the other. She holds them out and declares, “Be it known throughout the domain, that I, Alonya, do solemnly swear that my sword and my bow shall henceforth be not only to protect my people but to bring the golden dragon under the protection of Golian.
“I also command that as my sword and bow are sworn to protect the
noble one, all of the domain’s swords and bows are sworn to protect Golden Wind. There shall be no wanting in my ancestor’s vow, and there shall be no lack of conviction in upholding her oath and pledge.”
She gestures toward us Drachs. “Be it also known that this company—”
Scamper chitters loudly, and I whip my head around with a stern look to quiet him. Queen Alonya chuckles and says, “You’re quite right, little one.”
She starts again. “For their courage and bravery on behalf of our people, be it also known that all members of this company are granted the rights and privileges as citizens of the Golian Domain.
“What’s more, they are assigned to the House of Escher for their lifetimes. As such, they are members of the royal family and shall be treated accordingly.”
She comes and stands in front of me. “Kneel, Hooper.”
With a little uncertainty, I slowly go to a knee. Queen Alonya hands her bow and sword to Desma and then reaches up to remove her amulet. “We’ll have to shorten the chain a bit,” she whispers as she drapes it around my neck, “but it will do for now.”
She speaks louder so that the witnesses can hear. “Wear this talisman in good health, Hooper, it is the royal symbol of Golian and by it, wherever you go, it shall be known that you are a member of the House of Escher. And also, by this amulet you will be known as Friend and Consul to Alonya, Queen of Golian.”
She steps back and motions for me to stand. “Rise, Hooper.”
I stand and ask hesitantly, “Are you saying that I’m really a member of your family?”
She leans down and smiles. “That’s exactly what it means.”
Phigby nudges me with an elbow and says with a little twinkle in his eyes, “Didn’t you always want a couple of sisters, Hooper?”
“Well, yes,” I let out in a whoosh of breath. “But, I never realized they would be so—so—BIG.”
Everyone laughs, even Cara manages a smile.
