by Sarah Hite
“Well, I can’t stay here,” she said to herself. As she neared the opening, she became discouraged; it was tall and narrow, with stones built up to around eight inches. She knew that crawling over these rocks would likely worsen the injury. She ducked through it, causing her leg to hurt even more as it bumped against the uneven ground. She held in a curse and tried to ignore the pain, but after she hit her leg on a particularly sharp stone, she cried out as lights flickered across her vision. She stumbled on hands and knees and leaned through the opening. Then she struggled to regain her sight and fell against the wall. After the pain receded she looked around. What she saw would be burned into her memory for the rest of her life.
He was small, just skin and bones. The chains that bound his body clattered as he moved; he looked like Death itself. Ania did not know how he had the strength to move, let alone stand. He had been starved and beaten, but she saw the fire in his eyes. His mind was still keen; his spirit had not been broken. For a moment she thought he would attack; but, to her horror, he collapsed. Her tears joined the dragon on the ground.
Ania stared at the unconscious dragon. He was so thin she could see every bone in his body. She did not know how he had had the strength to stand.
Who could be so cruel? she thought as she traced the chains with her eyes.
She cautiously approached the dragon. He had gashes, scrapes, burns, and friction marks where the chains had rubbed against his skin, as well as other injuries. It was obvious to Ania that this dragon had been deliberately tortured, possibly even left for dead. What they were doing with him she did not know, nor did she want to. All she knew was that he needed help.
Hunting
Later that day Ania woke from a nap and tried to get up. Her muscles had stiffened again and her leg ached. She crawled over and sat down on a rock, where she carefully unwrapped her leg and looked it over. It the swelling had increased overnight, and the skin had split. She tore off a strip of her cloak and groaned, knowing what she had to do and fearing the outcome. She tied the end of the strip tightly around her ankle. Then she crawled over to a short stalagmite and tied the other end around it. Her vision flickered and pain lanced through her leg as she pulled back with all her might. When the deed was done, she sat on the stone floor, swaying, drenched with sweat and passed out.
She woke sometime later, light was still shining through the lake entrance. She slowly rolled over and looked at her leg. It was still hot and swollen but, as she reached down and felt the injury, she could tell that the bone was back in line. She tore another strip from her cloak and wrapped it tightly around her calf. She ignored the pain radiating from her leg and studied the dragon. His hide was filthy and covered in sores. Some were old, some new. Some had been caused by the chains, but most were partially healed wounds from when he had been beaten. It was difficult to determine the color of his hide, except that it was mainly brown.
She turned around and crawled across the cavern to the far wall and followed the path to the small underground lake. She took a drink; the water was cool. She unbound her leg and lowered it into the water, hoping it would reduce the swelling. After a moment she cupped another handful and rewashed her face. Looking around she inspected the chamber again. The ceiling was at least twenty feet above her. The walls were made of red sandstone that darkened as it neared the top. The opening in the ceiling was wider in middle than at the ends; she thought she spotted the end of a rope hanging from the opening. She looked around the room and discovered an old wooden bucket. Someone must have found the lake and used it as a well. It was nice of them to lose their bucket, she thought wryly.
She pulled herself out of the lake and rewrapped her leg after soaking the cloth. She retrieved the bucket and lowered it into the water. She knew she had to tend the dragon’s wounds. She slowly made her way back to the other chamber, pushing the bucket along in front of her as she went, and thanked the Ancestors it was a short trip. She left the bucket by the entrance and looked around the cavern. Bones were scattered around, and the skeleton of a deer sat in a crevice. There was a fire pit in the middle of the chamber, still filled with wood. She smiled thankfully and crawled over to it. Taking two pieces of wood, and a piece of dried-out skin as tinder, she set the flat piece she had chosen on top of the skin and rubbed the other against it.
After several minutes of trying to light a fire using friction heat, she set the wood down and looked around the cavern. Something glinted as the waning light crossed it; she crawled over to investigate and found a piece of steel from a knife or sword. It was small, but it would be enough for what she had in mind. She looked around some more and began to study the small rocks. Just as the remaining light faded, she found a small stone about three inches long and waxy in appearance. She smiled and held the piece of flint tightly as she made her way back to the fire pit. She jammed the piece of metal into the flat piece of wood, so that it was even and flat against the wood. She held the stone in one hand and the wood in the other.
She struck the metal with the stone, creating a spark. She smiled and continued until the hair on the skin caught fire. Then she slowly lowered it into the wood- filled pit and added more strips of skin and a piece of cloth from the fabric she had used to set her leg, and when she had a small but strong fire, she pulled a pitted stone over to the fire and filled it with water. When the water was heated, she took another piece of the cloth and dipped it into the hot water. Then she looked over at the unconscious dragon. She realized that the men who had held him deliberately placed the pit within arm’s reach of the dragon for cruelty’s sake. However, its placement also made it easier for her to clean the dragon’s wounds.
She worked through the night, cleaning the open sores and using cloth to cushion those that would likely open. She also cleaned the dragon’s hide and noticed, through the scaring, that his coloration was mainly brown but also contained mossy green patches and blue accents. His hide reminded her of a log covered with moss and blue flowers or mushrooms. He had an odd patch of discolored hide above his left eye where the scales did not form properly. She knew the dragon had to be thirsty and went to fetch more water. The dragon was just beginning to stir as she re-entered the chamber. He blearily opened his eyes and tried to shake his head, but he could not due to the chains that held him prisoner.
“You poor thing,” she said, bringing the bucket over. “No dragon should ever be chained. Here, I know you must be thirsty.” She set the bucket down in front of him, then cupped and drank a handful to show him it was okay. A moment later he maneuvered his head as best he could to drink and she crawled over to inspect the chains. They ranged in thickness and were placed on every limb. The heaviest was over his back and chest and was about half as thick as her thigh; a large leather harness secured them in place. Holes had been punched through the leather to allow for the spikes down his spine.
The chains on his legs were about as big around as her wrists and had been run through shackles. There was only one chain that confined his head. It was about double the thickness of her thumb and weighed more than she thought it would. His captors had thrown the chains on him without care, creating sores in many places. The one around his head had been wrapped around his horns, breaking one off near the base. It was still entangled in the chains. She wondered if the chain or the broken horn had created the odd patch above his eye. He also wore a muzzle made from thick leather. It confined his mouth so that he could not open it more than a few inches. He finished the water and looked up at her.
“Feeling a little better now?” she asked as she fetched the bucket. He did not answer and she went back to her place by the wall. Soon she began to grow hungry and, because she did not know what time it was, estimated that it must have been at least two days since she had eaten last. She also knew the dragon was surely hungry. She looked around the cavern and then back at the dragon. “I don’t suppose you know a way out of here,” she said. “I need to try and hunt.” She was not sure how she would hunt with an injured leg
and no bow, but she knew she had to try. To her surprise the dragon stood up, as far as the chains would allow, and directed her attention to a crevasse in the far wall with his snout. She looked but just saw shadows; nonetheless, she crawled over to it. The crevasse was larger than it had originally appeared, but was only big enough for a dragon twice the size of Shaelynn.
She realized as she passed through the hole that this dragon must have been her age or younger when his captives brought him here. She stopped just inside the next cavern as the realization struck her. He’s been here his whole life! A new sense of anger welled up within her and she looked around the new chamber. It was larger than the last, full of rocky statue-like stalagmites and stalactites in bizarre shapes; as many hung from the ceiling as came up from the floor, and water dripped from the tips of many of the stalactites. She passed by the stones and suddenly came upon a pile of discarded supplies. Among them was an old bow, a length of rope, about twelve foot long, and a worn out hunting knife. She also found an old blanket, some old clothes, and two bags; one was used to carry supplies, and the other must have been a healer’s bag. It still had some herbs, poultices, and bandages in it. After placing the items she had found in one of the two bags, Ania threw them over her shoulder and went back to the other chamber.
She lost her sword when she had fallen, but the scabbard was still tied to her belt. She took it off and examined the lines showing where the two halves had been sealed. Taking the knife, Ania began to pry them apart, being careful not to hurt herself or break them. Once she had succeeded, she took a bandage from the healer’s bag and tied the two pieces to her leg, one on each side. The swelling had increased and the skin that had split was puffy and infected. She had left the fire going and there was some water remaining in the stone. She dipped her hand in the bucket and scooped more water into the stone, then preceded to clean the wound through clenched teeth. “Ancestor’s sorrow!” she exclaimed as her vision flickered again.
This startled the dragon, who eyed her strangely. Realizing what she had said, she laughed, making the dragon look at her even more oddly, but his eyes were alive and dancing. She removed a jar from healer’s bag and smoothed some of the ointment on the injury, then covered it with a bandage before re-wrapping it with another one. She then tore the strip of cloak into thinner strips and tied the two halves of the scabbard to her leg, one on each side, by wrapping another cloth around them. She strapped the knife to her belt and, picking up the bow, she threw it over her shoulder, along with the coiled-up the rope. She turned to the dragon and said, “I’ll be back. I’m going to find us something to eat.” With that she left the cave, pausing often to rest.
Once outside, she stopped to look for a stick she could use to support herself. She knew she would have to go into the woods but was not sure how she was going to get there without support. She followed the cliff face instead. The cliff was at the base of a small hill in which the cave was nestled. She followed the cliffs to where they formed a small ravine; there she found a pile of logs and sticks that had been washed downstream during the last heavy rain.
She dug through the pile until she found a sapling just under her height. It was a small white birch that had been pulled out of the ground. She examined the knotted roots that had broken off during the storm. The tree seemed sturdy enough. She tested it, and it held. She took it with her, using it as a crutch as she followed the ravine to where it dropped off at a large cliff. She looked out over the land below; she could see Aretell and Ryell’s palace clearly in the distance but it was still leagues away. She turned toward the woods with the assurance that her friends would see to Shaelynn’s safety.
She sat down on a boulder next to several small saplings and cut them down. She stripped them and sharpened one end of each, then she cut a notch in the other end. She also found several long but thin vines and cut them down. A little later she happened upon a deer trail and followed it. After setting the vines as traps, she picked a place by a large tree at the edge of a small meadow; she slowly sat down and waited, ignoring the pain that pulsed through her leg. Slowly Ania looked up when she heard the sound of a snapping twig. It was a large rabbit that stood not twenty feet from her. After a moment three more rabbits appeared. Very slowly, she took aim, and released.
Aretell
“Run!” flame Shouted from his saddle as he turned to see where the others were. Tyanna passed him on his left. She was only a blur in his vision; his focus was on Lukair and Stone. Stone’s filly had stumbled and fallen, throwing her several feet away; Lukair had turned back for her. Flame spun his horse around and called Tyanna back. She turned back just as the filly was struggling to gain its footing, and Stone scrambled to her feet as an arrow struck the ground inches away.
Lukair swung his sword at the archer who had fired on his sister. He missed but it was enough of a distraction to allow her to scramble out of the way. The filly had managed to get on its feet by the time Flame and Tyanna reached them. Together they fought back the soldiers and allowed Stone to remount. “Where’s Shaelynn?” Stone cried. The little dragon bolted out of the woods just then and took the lead. The kids spurred their horses after her at a full run. They had to lose the soldiers. It had been days since they had attacked their camp. Moon and Pai were nowhere to be seen and Ania had completely disappeared, although her horse ran with the rest, an open reminder of her sudden absence.
As the sun rose they realized they were fleeing to the southeast. Their horses were lathered and would not be able to continue on much longer, but everywhere they went, no matter how hard they tried, they could not lose the men. They came out at a sudden cliff; Flame’s horse nearly went over the side. The other horses stopped there, unwilling to continue. The kids took a moment to look for an escape route. In the distance was a large-sized town with a palace at its edge.
“There’s Aretell,” Flame commented as he looked at the city.
“Look!” Tyanna shouted, calling their attention to a narrow path that wound its way down the side of the cliff. They would have to go slowly, and one at a time, but they could make it.
***
“Captain, look!” one of the guards called to his superior. The guard passed the spyglass over to the captain so he could see.
“What is it, Harden?” a voice called from below.
“Riders on the ridge, My Lord,” Captain Harden replied. Lord Mychal climbed up to the tower and looked through the glass. “Is that a… Harden, get your men out there!” he exclaimed. Harden had not seen Shaelynn, but he did as he was commanded. As Mychal watched, the riders made it down the ridge but were caught at the bottom by a group of the duke’s soldiers. They circled their horses protectively around the young dragon and were preparing to fight. He called down to Harden and, tossing him the glass, directed his attention to two other dragons who were under attack about a mile north. Harden nodded and ushered his riders out of the northern palace gates.
***
“That thing belongs to the Duke,” the captain of the men said. It was the same man who had spoken to Flame and Ania in the small town of Laren, where they had found Shaelynn.
Lukair looked at him and said, evenly, “This dragon belongs at the Keep.”
The captain looked at Lukair with surprise and then, with an unbelieving tone asked, “Does it now?”
Before he could answer, Flame scowled and said, “Of course she does. Now I have a question for you. Where is the girl I was with in Laren?” The captain gave him an odd look and did not answer. Flame had pulled his sword free of its sheath and had laid it across his legs. Now he raised it against the men. Tyanna likewise prepared to fight. Stone did not have a sword and tried not to show her hesitation. A moment later she grabbed Ania’s bow from her saddle bag and aimed an arrow at the captain. Flame saw the gates open from behind the soldiers. He knew Stone would be better off if she could get there, and he knew Shaelynn would go with her. Catching her attention, he cried, “Stone, run!” He knew she would see the gates.
Mychal watched the three remaining riders fight off the men with growing surprise and admiration for the men; group, he amended as one of them spun around, causing the cloak to fall away and reveal her. He then realized the one who ran must also have been a woman. A short time later the men reached them and the soldiers soon surrendered.
As Mychal turned his attention to the two dragons father north, another man stepped up to his side. He wore tan slacks and a forest green shirt with autumn-colored leaves in copper and bronze thread. Mychal told him what had occurred and they observed the dragons together. One was darker and larger, but he could not make out the color, and the other was smaller and appeared to be white. The white one suddenly dropped as a volley of arrows flew its way. The darker dragon dropped a moment later and swooped low over the archers to let the smaller one gain altitude. They slowly made their way out of the archers’ range and seemed confused, as if they did not know which way to go, and the darker one appeared to be having some difficulty flying. But just as the he seemed about to fall, they turned and flew toward Aretell.
