"Come, we must leave. The flames are spreading." The dragon looked over her and she followed his gaze. He was not exaggerating. If anything, he was not worried enough.
The billowing wall of flame was nearly upon them, and despite the return of pain, of weariness, despite the weight of her wounds and her muscles screaming for relief, Avalee forced herself to her feet and hobbled to the dragon, climbing as quickly and as carefully as she could manage until she found the safe place behind his neck and squeezed her legs tightly in the space between the ridge and his back. Then she held tightly and shouted, "Go."
And he did, leaping from the cliff to their right and spiraling down along the uneven rocks until finally spreading his wings and catching the air beneath them, pulling up at the last moment so that his claws trailed the water, raising a cooling spray up and around them. And then they were aloft, and he was beating his wings steadily, taking them higher.
Avalee looked behind her. The island was burning, not just the cliff, not just the clearing. All of it. She had done this. She had destroyed it, and still she didn't quite understand how she had changed, neither the first nor the second time. She watched it burn until the billowing black of the smoke and their height hid the flames from her view. And then she closed her eyes, and watched it in her mind's eye as the dragon flew on and on—taking them away to safety, leaving their one-time home far behind, leaving her destruction behind. Avalee wished she could stop seeing it, even now. And she got her wish as the strain of all she'd had to endure finally overcame her, and she slumped unconscious over the ridge that held her firmly to the dragon's back.
The dragon sensed this, but knew she was secure, so he flew on. Taking her to the one place he knew they could rest. The one place he knew she would find safety and healing. Taking her to Dragon's Mount. Taking her home.
~~~
Chapter 26
Avalee woke to the burn of sunlight against her closed eyes, and her arm flopped over her face to block the intrusion. Caught between a dream of fire and the confusion of waking from something that seemed so real, Avalee struggled to make sense of it all. Finally, her mind focused on the one thing that seemed out of place. For three long months, she had awoken to solid darkness, broken neither by torch nor candle—and never by sunlight. It felt . . . wrong.
She pulled her arm up slightly and peeked out from under its shade. Her mind refused to comprehend what she was seeing. A room, not a cave. Wooden, with rays of light painting the far wall where a low dresser sat buried under treasured objects. A mirror reflected the window, the source of the light, and Avalee closed her eyes tightly and buried them under her arm once more.
It can't be, she told herself, can't be real.
But she forced herself to look again. Her room. It was her room in her parents' house. Hers and her sister's, just like she remembered it. But why? How?
Avalee began to doubt her memories. All of them. Of being selected as the tenth-year sacrifice. Of being taken by the dragon and held captive. Of coming to an understanding. Of claiming the dragon as hers and defending him. Of him accepting her claim. Of forever, the word that sealed him to her. And of flames and screams, a living nightmare. Of ice burning and searing into her arm even as flame roiled within her chest. But here she was, waking in her own bed. There across the room was her sister's bed, empty and made up. No sign of her anywhere, the house silent.
She tried to pull herself up on her arm and gasped at the sharp pain that met the effort. Avalee looked down and found that the whole thing was bandaged from fingertips to shoulder. The pain subsided when she fell still, but she felt the ache now. Was this from...?
She didn't complete the thought. She bit her lip and pulled herself into a sitting position with the aid of her uninjured arm, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. Other than the bandages, she was wearing one of her own nightgowns, one of the sleeveless ones.
Avalee slid off the bed and onto her feet, surprised by the sudden dizziness and instability that hit her at the simple task. She closed her eyes briefly to stop the world from spinning around and then carefully opened them back up, relieved to find that it had worked. Then she crept on bare feet to her door and pulled it open, just enough to listen. Silence no more, Avalee heard voices rising softly from downstairs.
She finished pulling the door open and stepped out and up to the railing that bordered the steps down. Peering down and leaning over slightly, she was disappointed to see nothing, and still the voices spoke, too softly for words to be deciphered. Her right arm hung from her side, and she tried to remember to use the left on the railing as she made her way around and then down the stairway.
She felt weak, as though she'd been bedridden for days. Her head was aching, and she was thirsty. Hunger played second, her core hollow and aching, but still no match to the thirst. Still, she made her way down the stairs, listening closely to the words being spoken.
"Some tea?" This was her mother speaking.
There was no response, but as Avalee neared the door to the kitchen, she heard tea being poured and assumed the answer had been a nod.
"He still hasn't explained how he came across Avalee, or what's wrong with her?" This time her father spoke. Then he seemed to turn his words towards the silent one in the kitchen. "Listen, young man, my sons have gone for the council. They will not allow you to hold your tongue. What have you to say? It will be better if you tell me first."
Avalee took the two final steps towards the door and stopped, listening.
"She will be fine."
"But what's wrong with her?" Avalee's mother pled. "Why won't you tell us?"
"Ask her yourself. She stands just beyond the door." A low chuckle, familiar, followed this statement, and Avalee's breath caught. Of everything she remembered, that chuckle was the most real to her. It sparked a flame within her breast. Her dragon. It was all real, and he had brought her home.
The door swung open in front of her, and then she was caught up in her mother's strong arms, her father's joining in to surround them both. But over their shoulders she saw him.
A slight grin twitched up at his lips as the dragon watched Avalee being engulfed in the arms of her parents. But Avalee stared back, her mind a blank. Even the pain of her mother's touch on her injured arm wasn't enough to break through the surreal feeling.
"Avalee, tell me how you escaped from the dragon. What happened to you?" Her father pulled out of the hug first. His question, sharp in her ears, drew her attention away from the man who sat across the room.
"Escaped?" she asked without thinking. She hadn't escaped, he was right there, but she stopped herself from saying that. Stopped and said instead, "I don't know."
The dragon nodded slightly, and Avalee caught the motion from the corner of her eye as she looked at her father.
Her father’s eyes were relieved, but she sensed something more. Fear. The reason became clear in her mind all at once, and Avalee realized that her father was afraid of what her presence meant. He feared the consequences of her freedom, feared the dragon, despite his relief at her safety.
"Avalee, you must remember something. You've been gone for three months."
"No, it's not that I don't remember anything." Avalee looked at her mom. "I just don't know how I came here."
She couldn't resist looking towards the dragon where he sat at the table; the chipped cup that held his tea sat cradled between his hands as though warming them. Just then, her legs failed her, and Avalee fell, caught in the quick arms of her father before she could reach the floor.
"Oh, Avalee, you're still not well. Come, bring her to the table." Her mother shifted between comforting her daughter and commanding her husband in the blink of an eye. Avalee tried to find her balance, but she was incredibly weak. Her father helped her into a chair, and both he and her mother pushed it up to the table so she could lean forward and rest her head on folded arms.
Her mother rubbed her back gently while her father rested a stabilizing hand on her should
er.
"Perhaps the young lady would like some of this fine tea?" said the dragon, who pushed his own cup towards her. Avalee heard it and reached out to grasp the cup without looking and without waiting for her mother to react. She felt her mother's hand stop as Avalee drank deeply, despite the near boiling heat. It seemed nothing to her, if not intensely soothing.
"Avalee," her mother managed as she resumed her soothing caress, "I would have prepared a cup for you. No need to take our guest's drink."
Avalee set down the empty cup and sat up, feeling refreshed already—and hungry. "Sorry, mom. I'm starving, is there any bread?"
"Of course, dear." Her mother left her side to cut her some bread and fetch some butter.
Avalee looked up at her father and said, "I'm fine now. I won't fall again." It was a dismissal, but her father looked at her carefully a long moment before releasing her and stepping back. His eyes caught his wife's as she set down the food for their daughter, and then they both looked quickly at the door leading outside before pretending they hadn't.
Avalee remembered that her father had told the dragon the council was coming. She had no idea what that would mean for her or for him, but she wanted to have her strength for the encounter, so she tore into the bread and smeared it with butter before devouring it. Her mother poured her a glass of water, and Avalee accepted it gratefully and washed down the bread.
A knock sounded at the door, and then Avalee's brothers stepped inside, followed by the three councilmen they'd managed to find. Avalee was met with disapproving frowns, but some of them were shared over to the dragon as well. He ignored them, watching Avalee as she tried to finish eating.
"How are you?" he whispered to her, not that the others couldn't hear, but it was obvious he meant the words for her only.
"I am better."
He nodded slightly and then acknowledged the men who now filled the small room. "Gentlemen, I can see that you are worried. Perhaps I can address your concerns. Come, let us speak outside."
The dragon stood and gestured at the door from which the men had entered and took a step towards it, but Avalee wasn't about to let him face these men alone—not with what she saw in their eyes. The dragon didn't seem to acknowledge or perhaps even to realize the danger. These men were desperate, and they would have their answers.
She stood and joined the dragon's side, grasping his arm and leaning on him. "Help me outside with you. My legs are still not as strong as I prefer."
He smiled down at her. "Are you sure you wish to join this conversation? Wouldn't you rather return to your rest?"
She shook her head and whispered for his ears alone, "My place is with you. Do not ask me to leave your side again."
He nodded and led her past the councilmen and her family. Outside, Avalee took the lead and drew the dragon with her to the one bench in the yard, near the back door, but facing the garden, a place her mother favored for knitting.
They sat, and Avalee watched the men file out of the house. Her mother stayed just inside the door, watching. The men did not sit, instead gathering in a loose semicircle in front of Avalee and the dragon.
Avalee opened her mouth to speak, but the dragon beat her to it. "The dragon no longer holds the village to the agreement."
The men tensed, and one of them stepped forward slightly and spoke. "I am Ergad, third of the council. Who are you to speak for the dragon?"
Avalee's father held out a hand, and the man stepped back, but didn't take his eyes off the pair on the bench. He turned his attention to the dragon and said, "It is a fair question, but I am more interested in learning the nature of your claim. Just what do you mean the dragon no longer holds us to the agreement?"
The dragon looked over at Avalee, she looked back, and an unspoken decision went between them.
Avalee caught her father's eye and spoke, trying to ignore the worried and fearful looks of the men around him. "He means what he said. The agreement is satisfied. The village no longer needs to fear the dragon, nor send young women every ten years."
"Then the dragon is dead." This came from Ergad, who again spoke for the council. Although he was only the third, he was the highest ranked among those who stood in Avalee’s mother’s garden.
The dragon opened his mouth to speak, but a hiss of breath from the corner of the house drew his and everyone else’s attention.
“Jaer.”
The dragon stood, releasing Avalee’s hand before she could react, but said nothing.
The elder, who had just rounded the corner, stood stock still, staring at the dragon. Avalee realized the old man knew and looked back up at the dragon to determine whether he did, too. By the firm set of his jaw and the tensed muscles of his arm, she realized that the dragon did know.
She turned her eye back towards the newcomer and watched as he began a wary approach, his eyes never straying from the dragon’s. Finally, he spoke.
“Jaer, I did not expect you for another ten years. Why have you come, and,” his eyes flicked over towards Avalee before returning to the dragon, “why have you brought young Avalee with you? Does she not satisfy the bargain for this cycle?”
The elder knew the dragon, no, Jaer. The name rung in Avalee’s ears.
Jaer spoke now, “Elder Bairn, many years have passed since our agreement. I trust you have found my contribution to the pact acceptable?”
The others were just beginning to understand, to fit the pieces of the conversation into place. Each man, as he did, acted differently. Old Janson gasped and took two steps back, reaching for a weapon at his waist that hadn’t rested there for decades. Surra, unlike Janson, had his long knife with him and wasted no time drawing it as he crouched into a defensive stance. Only Ergad kept his head, and Avalee’s attention fell on him as his eyes narrowed and he began to inch towards her. He held no weapon in hand, but Avalee didn’t doubt he possessed one. She stood and gripped the dragon’s forearm—a warning.
He looked away from Elder Bairn and then followed Avalee’s quick glance in the direction of the creeping councilmember. “Stop.” The word was a growl, and could no longer be mistaken for a normal human’s voice.
Ergad froze under the glare of the dragon, but his expression didn’t change. He was ready to move as soon as the beast turned away.
Elder Bairn saw this and said, “Councilman Ergad, stand down. All of you, back away, slowly. Let us not anger the beast and destroy two decades of peace.” He spoke again, firmly, “Janson, put it away. He will not act in this form, not without provocation.”
Avalee’s parents were slower to realize the situation than were the councilmen, but at the Elder’s last words, even they understood.
“Avalee, come away from it,” her mother whispered harshly, and her father reached an arm out towards her.
“Go to them,” the dragon murmured for her ears alone, “I must speak to the Elder.”
“No,” she argued back, but he took her arm and gently propelled her in their direction. Her father caught ahold of her before she could stop herself and pulled her into a hug meant for restraint, rather than comfort. Still, she managed to twist around and watch the Elder take the final few steps that brought him within reach of the dragon.
The two eyed each other, judging, evaluating. Neither smiled, neither relaxed. Avalee had never seen the Elder like this. Usually, he shrank into the background, no matter the occasion, a brooding witness to life in the village. Today he stood tall, strong, and firm. He stood up to the dragon.
But neither did the dragon back down from this challenge. He stood calm, but just as strong, just as resolute as the old man.
“She has,” said Jaer to the Elder. It took a moment for Avalee to realize that the dragon was answering the Elder’s final question: whether she herself had been found acceptable.
“And yet you are here,” the Elder pressed. “Would you break the agreement, then?”
Just then, a flash of movement caught Avalee’s eye. Janson and Ergad, both standing behind the El
der, were drawing weapons. Janson, the knife, and Ergad, a throwing dagger. Avalee struggled against the arms of her father, rage and fear giving her strength, and screamed out, “No.”
Her cries drew the dragon’s attention at just the wrong time, and Ergad threw. The blade, aimed poorly, nevertheless plunged into the dragon’s left arm, shocking everyone into silence and stillness, except for Avalee and except for the dragon. She broke away from her father and sprinted the two leaping paces needed to close the gap between her and her dragon. The dragon, with his good arm, reached for and caught her momentum, even as she twisted to stand before him and block further attempts at his life.
“Avalee, no,” her mother cried. This time it was she who was captured by Avalee’s father’s arms as her maternal instincts struggled to send her after her daughter.
“Stop,” the dragon said, utterly calm from behind Avalee. “Avalee, step aside.”
She braced herself into a solid stance and said, “No.”
“Very well.” The dragon looked around at the people surrounding them. The three councilmen, Janson still holding his knife, the watchful Elder, Avalee’s parents. “The bargain has been satisfied. The agreement is at an end. You have nothing to fear. I am leaving.”
She felt him lean down and his breath tingled in her ear as he whispered, “Go now to your family, your village. They have nothing to fear from me. You must prove this. I release you.”
“No,” she said again. He had promised forever. “I will not go anywhere without you. If you leave, I come with you. We leave together, you and me, or not at all.”
Unlike the dragon, Avalee hadn’t bothered to speak in a whisper, and the men and her mother watched and listened in shock.
The Elder cleared his throat. “You are leaving?”
Both Avalee and the dragon turned towards him, and he spoke again, “You are both leaving?”
“No,” the dragon said, just as Avalee responded, “Yes.”
An exasperated sound erupted from behind her, but Avalee ignored it. “The dragon is mine. I claim him, and I will not be parted from his side. Since I doubt the village will approve of him taking up residence, we will go. The agreement is at an end, but do not fear. We will not come back.”
Avalee and the Dragon Page 17
