Avalee and the Dragon

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Avalee and the Dragon Page 13

by Hamill, Patricia


  Rolph watched him go. His brother, who had become a dragon.

  ~~~

  Chapter 21

  If Avalee had thought the dragon’s presence annoying before, she found it nerve-wracking now. It seemed he never left her alone anymore, or at least he rarely did, and then only to hunt. He would return, drop off the meat and watch her closely.

  It seemed he was always watching, either her or their surroundings. She would be sitting by the fire thinking about home, and then he would be sitting beside her, sometimes a dragon, other times a man, totally silent, but there, watching, but rarely speaking, his eyes brooding. She would look away, but she sense him just the same, and turn back to find him gazing up at the cavern entrance with worried eyes.

  Or, she would be looking out over the water from the ledge, and turn away to find him there, a pace behind her, either as a dragon or as a man, watching her or lookup back towards the steps. One time, she’d caught him weighing the sword in his hands, testing its balance and giving it a few swings.

  Then there was the time she awoke from a deep sleep to find him standing off by the door to her room. That wasn't just annoying, it was startling, even though he was facing away from her, out into the passageway. It got to where she felt a constant tingle down her spine—always sensing that he was there, even when he wasn't. She caught herself constantly looking over her shoulder and began to find it hard to fall asleep at night.

  Today, Avalee planned to put a stop to it. She would ask him to back off and give her some space, or at least tell her why he felt the need to spend every waking moment in her presence. She hoped that would take care of it, but for once, the dragon was nowhere to be seen. She ate her breakfast, cleaned up. Tossed some wood on the fire. Still no dragon.

  She ran up and down the ramp, her blood pumping through her veins, her body feeling alive from the activity. No dragon.

  She bathed. No dragon.

  She ate again. No dragon.

  She paced. No dragon

  She worried. Still no dragon.

  Agitated and tired of waiting, Avalee fetched her pack and worked her way up the ramp and towards the forest path—walking briskly, almost jogging, once she reached it. The leaves were no longer crinkly and crisp. Weeks of rain and sleet, snow and ice, had matted them down. None remained on the trees. The tingle grew as she approached the clearing, as always, but it was different. Instead of comforting her, the sensation put her on edge.

  She stopped dead in her tracks. The flowers were gone, trampled into mush. Where grass had grown, where bees had buzzed, none now did. She realized her jaw had fallen at the sight and clamped it shut. Trampled, destroyed. Human feet had not done this, nor had a dragon's. There were intruders on the island, and the dragon was gone.

  The tingle grew, like angry bees attacking her skin, stinging constantly, the pain grew and grew. Avalee ignored it, trying to understand. The clearing, her clearing, was destroyed. She rubbed at her arms, backing away. Rubbed, but the pain grew. The skin she rubbed felt off, strange, rough, but she barely noticed.

  The dragon was gone, and something, no, some things, had taken him. She was sure of it. His recent behavior, his watchfulness, began to take on new meaning, and it no longer mattered what she’d planned to say, no longer mattered that his presence had become stifling and confusing. He was gone, taken, and Avalee was surprised to realize that this made her angry. The stings grew yet again, knifing into her, the buzzing sounding in her ears, loader than any bee, roaring.

  She could no longer ignore it. Avalee cried out, agonized. Her arms flung wide from her body as she felt a ripping, a breaking, a snapping and cracking. And soon the roar was her own, and the earth shook beneath her. Trees broke away, shattered. The trampled clearing erupted, mud and bruised vegetation flying into the air before her. And she roared. Anger was her entire being, and yet the pain grew more. And then there were flames, and everything was burning, burning and she couldn't stop it. She was burning, the flames coming from a place she didn't understand, couldn't understand. They were coming from her.

  And then, there was silence. No pain, no sound, just the gentle breeze fanning the fires before her, shining in her eyes. The once beautiful clearing, destroyed. She looked down upon it and felt the fires burning within her at the sight. Pulsing in time with her anger.

  Something had taken her dragon, and she wanted him back.

  She roared again, and the world trembled.

  She turned towards the cave, but the trees blocked her. Blocked her in, snatched at her. Tore into her skin. Her skin...

  Avalee gazed down at her arm, where a branch had cut into her. Not an arm. A leg. Not skin, scales, and already healing. She stopped.

  "What?" the sound of her voice frightened her. She clamped her mouth shut. Raised her hand and stared at a claw. Holding it up in the light, red, streaked with purple. Sparkling in the sun.

  She allowed her focus to shift to the trail and realized that her claws were enormous compared to the trees. Avalee shut her eyes tightly and breathed, again shocked by the rumble that she knew came from her own chest. Shut them tightly for just a moment to steel herself for what she'd already guessed she would find when she opened them.

  ~~~

  Chapter 22

  Avalee stood at the edge of the cliff, peering down at the ledge. She had made her way through the forest the best she could manage, but in the process, destroyed much of the path. Or widened it, she supposed. Unable to fit through it, she'd used her new claws and swiped trees out of the way—grabbing some, lifting them, smashing others. Now she rested and considered what she should do next.

  She felt the wind catch at her back and tug at what she could only guess were wings, but they were foreign to her, useless for flight. So she looked at the ledge and considered it. The sun was behind her now, casting her much changed shadow over it. Unmistakable. She was a dragon, somehow. Avalee was a dragon and had no idea how to change back, and she couldn't figure out how to get down there; the dragon had always flown down, and even if she got that far, she knew that she was now too large to travel the ramp inside. Just like the dragon, her body was too wide.

  She needed to find the dragon and those who had took him, but she didn't know how to use her new body.

  After a while, she decided she'd go back along the trail and see if she could pick up the direction from which the odd prints had come. She didn't remember seeing them on the trail leading to the clearing, so perhaps they came from beyond it, from the path Avalee had once taken while trying to escape the beast.

  It wouldn't be easy. But she had to rescue him, and in the process, perhaps she would figure out what to do about her new reality. Maybe the dragon could help her.

  So, she turned away and began to pace down the trail, finding the way much easier now that she'd cleared the way. It seemed only moments before she reached the clearing; her longer legs covered the ground quickly. The flames she'd set were burning low now, though steadily, and she hesitated, eyeing the other side of the clearing where the path picked back up. She couldn't go around.

  Avalee took a deep breath and went for it, taking careful steps across the burning ground; but the flames were surprisingly gentle, almost pleasant, and she slowed and stood among them for a moment. They seemed to leap and lean towards her, and her scales reflected the flickering light prismatically, spinning colors like rainbows. She shook her head to break free of the sight and sensation and returned to her quest.

  Somewhat practiced at this now, Avalee began to crash her way through the path, watching the ground for signs of passage. The odd footprints, wider and longer than any man’s, had indeed come from and gone back this way. Her lips pulled back into a grin before the joyful rumble in her chest shocked it away. Still, buoyed by this knowledge, despite the unwelcome reminder of her condition, she doubled her efforts, but it took time. She couldn't merely walk. Every pace was a battle with the forest, and soon her red scales were spotted with blood from countless scratches and scrap
es.

  It became hard to see, her eyes blurring with fatigue, and soon Avalee had to stop. She knew the dragon and those who took him were likely well away from her, and she knew she had little chance of catching up in this way. And, she knew she was exhausted and couldn't keep doing this. What if she did catch up? Tonight. What could she do with her unfamiliar legs? Her unwieldy body. Her head, several paces higher than it should be. Could she sneak up on her prey when she had to rip up the forest to follow them?

  Her eyes burned, but she realized that tears were an impossibility in this form. She'd never guessed that dragons couldn't cry, but now she knew. They could roar, but now was not the time for roaring. With sudden clarity, she realized she wanted to be the one doing the surprising.

  If they could take the dragon, they could take her, too. She had to find another way to get close.

  She crouched down like a cat and rested her head on her forepaws, just thinking and considering her options until her thoughts began to run together and she slipped into slumber, forgetting all her troubles for this little while as her body healed and her mind recovered from the trauma she'd experienced this day.

  ~~~

  Chapter 23

  A chill wind blew over Avalee's body, and she trembled in her sleep. Then another came, and she curled into a tight ball, knees tucked under her chin and arms wrapped around them, but even that wasn't enough, and soon she awoke. Her eyes opened. The destruction she’d wrought had cleared the path of overhanging boughs and the full moon shone down, if not brightly, then enough to illuminate the sweep of her hair against the backdrop of the leaf strewn path. She gasped and held out a hand, not a claw. She was human again.

  But then another frosty curl of wind swept over her, and she recognized one very immediate problem. It was winter, and she was bare to the elements. She could do nothing to stay warm here, and even if she could, there was little she could do like this even if she was better suited for sneaking up on the dragon's captors. She didn't know how she'd transformed in the first place, nor did she know how she’d changed back, but Avalee wasn't going to assume there would be another transformation. She had to do this as herself, or do nothing at all, and that meant she had to go back.

  She got to her feet, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, and began to run along the path back towards the cave. The way was clear; her draconian form had flattened everything in its rampage, and she remembered it as just that, a rampage. She had been furious. Her entire being had been fueled by a possessive rage—unnatural and irrational. She knew that now, but in the moment, she had wanted nothing more than to make the interlopers pay for taking her dragon. Her dragon.

  She pushed herself along the path, her legs pumping even as her muscles burned, even as broken branches and splinters of wood pierced her feet. Not that she truly felt the worst of those wounds yet. No, that would come later when she reached the cave, and they thawed out. Then, she knew, every bit of her, currently numb, would come to life. Still she pressed on and imagined not the thought of the coming pain, but what she would do when she reached the cave.

  Clothing and fire, of course. Then weapons. The sword was lost in the forest, so she would have to make do with something else, maybe the fire prod? Bandages, too. Having no time to waste healing didn't mean she could completely ignore her wounds. She would have to tend them at least enough so that she could last long enough to make it back to the dragon and those who had taken him, and even that wouldn't be enough. Most likely she would have to fight. She'd never really been in a fight, and she knew that this could be both her first and last one.

  She reached the clearing and stopped. The way was aflame, but the heat coming off of the flames was welcome, even in its intensity, but she could not go straight through it, not as she had done when she was covered in scales and the flames were billowing out of her maw. So she made her way carefully along the edges; the wreckage that wasn't burning was chaotic, and she had to climb over and around it in a jagged path.

  Perhaps that was why she saw the sword. Had she been able to run past, or merely to manage a walk, she would have missed the glint of steel among the leaves just a few paces beyond the new edge of the path beyond the burning meadow. Yet there it was. When she reached the other side of the clearing, she stared at the blade once more to fix its position in her mind and then resumed her run toward the cave. She wanted nothing more than to claim it now, but reason prevailed. The feat would be easier and safer on the way back, not now when she was naked, half frozen, and injured.

  She reached the end of the path and then the clifftop overhanging the cavern's entrance, but took no time to stare at the growing brightness that preceded dawn. She climbed down the stone steps and stepped into the cave. Her eyes needed little time to adjust, and once they did, she sprinted down the ramp. The fire was low, and she didn't bother stoking it, but she did take a moment to light one of the lamps she'd bought in the town.

  That done she rushed to her room and dug through her drawers, nothing but dresses. She dropped one after the other to the floor. Useless. She wouldn't be able to run properly in them, especially through the debris she'd left on the trail. And fighting? No way. She slipped on her underthings and twisted her hair up and tied it in a tight bun, out of the way. Then she left for the main cavern where the dragon tended to make his transformations. The reason was simple. That would be where she would find his clothes: tunic, pants, proper boots.

  The dragon was surprisingly tidy, she discovered when she reached the other side. His clothing was neatly folded and stacked on a low shelf she hadn't even known was over here. There was even a wooden comb, though he didn't seem to have much hair to use it on when he was in human form. Avalee wondered when he'd bought these things and when he'd brought them down. Had they been there the whole time?

  Ignoring the jumble of clothes in a small basket, which she assumed were dirty, Avalee chose out a few items from the tidy stacks and carried them back to the fire to put them on. She had to search for something to tie around her waist both to hold up the pants and to bind the tunic close to her body, reminding herself again that she might have to fight. It would not do to have the pants fall down or to have the sword catch in the tunic. She found the leather tie she'd once used to tie the sword to her leg, and used that. Then she made a small pack to hold food and water, remembering that the path was long, even without ever managing to reach the other end.

  During her first month with the dragon, she'd managed to convert the smith's apron into a functional sheath, much better than what it had been when it had merely wrapped around the sword. Though empty, it was still strapped onto the larger pack that the dragon brought with them for the shopping trips. She retrieved it now and fastened it to her back. The strap was made of some of the apron's leather and was just the right size to sling the sword over her back, reaching from her right shoulder along her chest to her left hip. Empty, it was almost unnoticeable once she donned it. Over that, she slung the smaller pack she'd made with the food and then started up the ramp.

  She'd grabbed no other weapons, but half way up the ramp, she changed her mind and turned back. After a quick trip down the tunnel past her room, she came back with a long, sheathed dagger tied to one of her calves. Another of the many items the dragon had surprisingly allowed her to purchase. Obviously meant as a weapon, she'd been using it to cut portions of cured ham, cheese, and occasionally vegetables; though it seemed best suited for the meat. It was better than what she'd found in the pantry when she'd first taken stock of it.

  Yet, it was a weapon, and Avalee decided she would be foolish to rely on only the sword. What if she dropped it and had to fight something off until she could get it back? What if the sword was taken from her, or became stuck in her adversary? These were the things Avalee's creative mind had dreamt up as she'd started her journey up the ramp. These were the things that had convinced her to fetch the knife. And, now that she had it, she felt much better continuing on her way.

  She climb
ed up the rocky steps and stopped hard at the edge of the cliff, facing inland. The path was unrecognizable. Staring at it for the first time from this direction with human eyes, she realized just how huge she had been, just how destructive. It looked as though a tornado had pulled up and then flattened everything in a wide path, fifteen paces across. The jagged edges of trunks and limbs were like teeth, most of them jabbing inwards towards the center of the path. Those trees that had been near the center or aiming out from the path before her passage were now crushed and flattened, but not broken off like those that had faced inward.

  She shook her head to clear it, stiffened her jaw, and strode into the destruction, trying not to think about how it had felt to cause such havoc. The broken limbs and branches below her feet crackled beneath the heavy boots, and the fabric of the dragon's sturdy clothing protected her from the scrape and tear of those shards of wood that reached in to rip at her. The dragon had chosen surprisingly well for a creature who normally wouldn't have much use for such things.

  The tunic and pants were reinforced in all the right places, but were supple and comfortable elsewhere. The thick shin-high boots were made of a stiff leather, the inside lined with thick wool, warm and comfortable, while the soles were nearly an inch and a half thick. She found moving in the outfit much easier than moving in a dress, though she felt constrained and awkward, particularly with regard to her legs and feet. The skirts she wore were loose and breezy, and sandals and slippers, or even dress shoes, were light and almost nothing at all when worn. These boots were heavy, and the legs of the pants were of a sturdy material that fully incased her legs. Despite the chill in the air, Avalee soon found herself soaked with sweat.

  Soon, she spotted the clearing, still smoldering in places and outright burning in others. She hadn't expected the flames to hang on so long, but the smell of sulfur was strong, and Avalee began to wonder if the flame she'd breathed had been only that, flame, and not some other sort of chemical that would not stop burning. She had to admit that such might be the case, and she remembered the fire pit in the cave and how it never seemed to go out even when the kindling was low and nearly all ash. She nodded to herself, now convinced that it was so, and determined not to risk getting any of the burning debris on her now that she was certain the flames would hang on indefinitely.

 

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