by Megan Linski
“We’ve come all this way, on a journey to the sea, and you tell me now that you can’t swim?” Smok flails his arms around, as if this is the worst possible thing I could tell him.
“I didn’t think it was important.” I shrug.
“It damn well was important!”
I laugh. “Well, how did you expect me to be able to keep up with you, anyway? A human, swimming for lengths and lengths after a dragon. Even if such a feat were possible, I’d freeze to death before we got there! The water of the Baltic is cold.”
Smok grinds his teeth. “You’re probably right. Fine. I didn’t think of it.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Very well. I’ll swim, and you’ll ride upon my back.”
“That still doesn’t change the fact that the sea is freezing.”
“The fire inside me will keep you warm. You have nothing to worry about.”
Smok gathers a collection of driftwood for the fire. He puts it in a pile. When he takes away his hands the wood alights into a roaring blaze.
Smok sets up a kettle, and starts putting ingredients into the pot for a soup. I push him aside and start making it myself.
“I can do it, you know. I’m not completely helpless.” I stir the pot of soup slowly, watching as it bubbles.
“Just don’t poison me.” Smok curls up under a blanket, though he doesn’t need it to keep warm. Why does he wear it round his shoulders? For comfort?
“Are you all right?” I ask a little later, once the soup is done. I hand him a bowl, and darkness begins to settle around us. Smok eats his meal solemnly.
“I both love and hate the sea.” Smok takes a bite, and chews listlessly. “When I was younger it gave me many happy times, yet it is also where I received my curse.”
“Be happy, then. We’re almost there. You won’t have to worry about it once we meet the queen,” I say.
He shakes his head. “Even if the enchantment is lifted from me, the true curse can never be removed from my heart. This land holds memories I can never erase, no matter how terribly I cry out to the gods to remove them.”
Smok puts the bowl aside. He then lies upon the sleeping pelt, and closes his eyes to sleep.
I finish my bowl and put it aside, disturbed by what he said. I take a moment to ponder over whatever dark memories Smok is hiding.
It really is very cold out here, even during the summer. Without asking, I huddle next to Smok. He doesn’t object, but puts an arm around me, to keep me warm.
I lie awake much longer than he does as the night grows thicker around us. There’s something Smok isn’t telling me that haunts him more than his dragon skin. Whatever it is, it’s much, much worse.
Smok is a dragon again the next morning when I awaken. He’s standing next to the sea. Everything is already packed, hanging on a bag tied to one of his spikes.
The blanket wrapped around me is the only thing that he didn’t take. I ball it up and stuff it into the bag.
“I’ve been human for a very long time, longer than I should’ve,” he explains. “I won’t be able to transform again until the day passes, so hold on tight.”
I nod. I use his spikes to climb upward, and take a seat between his shoulders. He heads into the waves and I squeak as my clothes become soaked up to my middle. My top half remains dry, but the rest of me becomes immersed in the ocean. But it’s not cold. Smok was right. His body temperature warms the waters as we swim through them. It’s like taking a hot bath.
Smok swims like a snake in the water, weaving from left to right. I glance behind us and see that he’s taken us quite a far distance from shore already. He swims nearly as fast as he flies.
My skirt billows upward in the water and gets caught on a couple of spikes. I spend the next hour trying to untangle it, until I eventually give up.
“Hey, Smok, don’t look back or you’ll see my undergarments.” My cheeks redden, because only I know that I don’t have any on; Wanda favored loincloths, but I was never given any. Guess that’s something I should’ve thought to acquire before going out to sea.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He’s completely serious about it, too. His gaze is fixed firmly ahead on our destination, whatever it is.
I’m relieved, but at the same time, a bit offended. Am I so hideous to look at that he doesn’t bother to sneak a peek? Or is he being a gentleman?
I sigh dramatically. “I hate wearing drenched clothes. They’re bothersome.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I could say that you won’t get wetter, but our journey henceforth involves being within the sea. I’ll try to make the journey quick, so you won’t have to endure wearing soaking clothing.”
“I could take them off, if that would solve the problem,” I jest. Obviously, I wouldn’t dream of it, but I just want to observe his reaction.
“You weren’t very keen on being nude when I asked you to bathe near me in the wood,” Smok says, utterly serious. It went right over his head.
“I’m merely playing. It was a joke,” I say.
Smok doesn’t even crack a smile. I look for a light of amusement in his eyes, but it’s not there. It’s like they’re completely dead.
“You’re so serious!” I smack his side. “Lighten up. Laugh for once.”
“I never found much worth in humor.”
“You must be a joy at parties.” I roll my eyes.
“I hardly get invited to them.”
“I can see why.” I put my head in my hand and puff a spare strand of hair out of my face.
“You mustn’t think me rude. There was one girl, long ago, who could make me laugh,” he says. “She lifted my spirits often.”
“What happened to her?” I ask curiously.
“She died. I’ve rarely laughed since.”
“Oh.” I frown. “That’s very sad.” No wonder Smok is so stern and silent. He probably misses his friend, and I’m just exacerbating the problem by being silly all the time.
Smok swims and swims until it’s nearly sunset. When the sky starts to darken, he takes us to a thin sandbar and climbs abroad. I rip my dress free of his spikes and slide down his scales. Smok shakes his entire body like a dog, sending droplets everywhere.
“Stop it!” I say, throwing my hands up to shield my face. Most of the excess water landed on me.
“I apologize.” Smok changes back into a man and hugs me, tighter than usual. I’m dry in seconds. Smok pulls away, and there’s a warmth in my breast that has nothing to do with his magic.
“We’ll rest here for the night,” he says. “We’re close now.”
“You keep saying that.” I stride to the edge of the sandbar and look over the edge. Smok starts setting up camp as always.
“Fliss, stay onshore,” Smok warns me. “There are creatures of the deep lurking out here that would be delighted to have you for a snack.”
“What could be living so far out in the sea?” I ask.
“You’d be surprised. More creatures live in the sea then on land, many more terrifying.” Smok looks up. At the sight of where I’m standing, he drops his pack. “Fliss, get away from the water!”
“Why?” I gesture to the waves. “Nothing could possibly be out here—”
My sentence is cut off as I’m flung backwards by something rearing out of the water. I glance upward, and gasp in fear at the sight before me.
A giant-snakelike creature with a flat head, two beady eyes, and two rows of sharp teeth swims on shore, using four large flippers to propel itself onto land. It’s slimy and grey in color, with algae growing on its thin scales.
The creature looks hungrily at me and hisses, flicking out a long tongue to taste my scent on the air. I gape in amazement.
“Fliss, move!” Smok shouts. He changes into a dragon, bellowing a roar to get the monster’s attention.
The monster’s head turns sharply. When he sees Smok, he opens his mouth to elicit a shrill cry. The scream makes me smack my hands over my ears.
Smok throws himself at the mo
nster. He’s easily twice the size of the beast, and the monster can’t do more than waddle on land. However, the hundreds of sharp teeth in his mouth give him a slight advantage. Smok has trouble getting a bite in or a hit with his claws with how fast the monster’s head moves. Smok is able to deal a few quick blows, but they’re nothing substantial.
“Smok, look out!” I cry just as the monster’s teeth snap right by Smok’s throat. That was a mistake. The monster’s eyes look back at me, his attention refocused on his prey.
Knowing he can’t beat Smok, the monster’s head dives toward me. He’s looking to grab me and run. I try to get out of the way, but I’m too slow. The monster’s thick jaws grow closer and closer. Just as they’re about to chomp down, I scream.
“Fliss!” Smok shouts. The dragon slides in front of me. The monster’s teeth bite down on the back of Smok’s neck instead.
Smok bellows in pain. His roars cause tears to come to my eyes, and he struggles to make the monster let go. The beast won’t budge. He’s got a good hold, and knows that if he holds on long enough Smok will eventually bleed to death.
This is my fault. I have to do something! My head whips around, looking for some sort of weapon.
A large branch, nearly as big as I am, lies discarded nearby. Without any other good plans, I grab it and start hitting the monster over the head repeatedly. He has to let Smok go!
My arms are burning, but I don’t stop. I must’ve smacked him at least twenty times now.
Smok’s strength is failing. His claws slip against the wet sand, and the monster hisses in triumph.
“Oh, no!” I shout. Using the pointy end of the branch, I change my tactic and stab it into the monster’s eye.
The monster shrieks and lets go. Seeing his opportunity, Smok reels backward. He’s free!
Smok opens his mouth, and a plume of flame comes rushing out from within. The flame engulfs the monster. The smell that arises is horrid. The monster screams once again. When the flames end, I see the gray skin of the monster has been charred. With wide eyes, the monster waddles off the sand bar and plunges back into the sea, swimming down to the depths of the waters below.
The minute the monster is gone, Smok collapses. The sand bar shudders under his weight. He closes his eyes and lies completely still.
“Smok!” I rush to his side. The wound holes that puncture his skin are as wide across as my head, and there are many. I gently put a hand on his side. “Smok, you must wake up! Smok!”
Smok weakly opens his eyes. Instantaneously, he changes back into a man. He lies face down on the sand and groans.
The wound looks even more gruesome on human skin. The muscle is gnarled and bloody, with the bones of his spine protruding. Tears start pouring from my eyes.
“Oh Smok, I’m so sorry!” I say. “This was all my fault! I should’ve listened!”
Smok takes deep, heavy breaths. Before my very eyes, the wounds start to heal. Slowly but surely, muscle grows back over bone, and the blood begins to dry.
Yet the effect isn’t instantaneous. His magic is knitting the wound back together, but it’s a slow process.
“I’ll… be all right… dear girl.” Still he gasps for breath. “I merely… need time.”
“What was that thing?” I ask in a high-pitched voice.
“An Obra… water monster. They usually… populate the Obra River… but they can swim… this far out.” Smok winces as he talks. The pain he’s in must be tremendous.
“Is there anything I can do?” I feel so guilty. I can’t stop crying. Why didn’t I listen when he told me to stay onshore?
“Bind… my wounds.” His eyes look toward the bag. I scamper to grab it, and start rummaging through it. I find a poultice and some bandages inside.
“This will hurt,” I warn him. I smear some of the poultice on my fingers. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”
Smok grunts. I guess that’s a yes. My stomach churns at touching the gore on his neck, but this is my doing, so the least I owe Smok is to take care of him. I smear the poultice on the injury. He hisses, but doesn’t say anything. Carefully I bind his neck until the wound is concealed completely.
“It’s done.” I sit back on my heels. He’s still hurting. Unsure of what to do next, I say, “I really am sorry, Smok. If I had known you’d get hurt, I’d have never gone near the water.”
“Just… listen… next time.” Smok’s eyes close. “I must rest. Goodnight… dear girl. Stay away… from… water.”
I nod. Smok soon trails off into a fitful, agonizing sleep. I don’t sleep next to him tonight; I don’t want to chance ruining the healing process in any way.
It isn’t until the darkness makes it so I can’t see him anymore that I go to sleep myself.
It feels like the coldest night I’ve ever experienced without Smok next to me, and being surrounded by an icy sea on a chilly sand bar didn’t help. I rejoice at the warmth of the sun the next morning. I look for Smok, but he’s already standing above me. His bandage is gone, and he appears well.
“Is your wound healed?” I walk around him to observe. The skin on his neck is flawless and clear, only dotted by a few dark bruises.
“It still hurts,” he says. “But soreness won’t stop me from continuing on my quest. Today we go underwater, to search for the queen.”
“Underwater?” I say, shocked. “Don’t you remember I can’t swim?”
“I’ve thought of a solution. I’ll cast a spell on you. My magic will make it so you can’t drown. After a few hours I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it,” he says. “I’ll cast air and fire into your lungs, so you can breathe underwater and will stay warm within the cold sea.”
I shrug. “All right. This is your mission.” I don’t think Smok realizes how long I can flounder around in the water, but he’s about to find out soon enough.
Smok takes a step forward, so he’s less than a handbreadth away from me. “Are you prepared?”
“Yes.” I smile encouragingly. “Cast your spell. I’m ready.”
Smok nods sternly. I wait for him to wave his hands or say something odd. Instead, he grasps both sides of my face, lifts my head up, bends down, and kisses me.
My lips tingle against his, and sparks fly. His eyes are closed, so I think it only appropriate to close mine, too. I relish the feeling. By the gods, I’m kissing a dragon! His mouth is full, warm and soft against mine. A blazing heat wraps itself around me from the bottom of my feet to the top of my head, sending jolting sensations rippling through my bloodstream. All thought, and all of time, stops. Smok is casting his enchantment upon me, and it has nothing to do with the adventure we’re taking together.
As we kiss, I feel the heat of his magic, his fire, traveling from his tongue to mine. It filters down my throat and into my lungs, filling them completely.
Smok wraps one arm around my waist, and another in my hair, not giving up the kiss. He takes a few steps sideways and I follow him blindly.
With our mouths fused together and him holding me tight, Smok launches us off the sandbar and plunges us into the briny depths of the Baltic Sea.
Chapter Twelve
Once we’re underwater, Smok finally lets go. He draws away from the kiss, and smiles.
“What was that about!” I blurt. I clamp my hands over my mouth as a few tiny bubbles rise out of it. I take a deep breath, and find I’m just as easily able to breathe as I would if I were on land. “Oh, by the gods!”
“The spell allows us to talk underwater,” Smoke explains. “It’ll make things easier for the search.”
Smok changes into a dragon. “Stay close, dear girl. The monsters won’t bother you in these waters, if you linger near me.”
He begins propelling himself forward with his large paws. I attempt to follow him, flailing my arms and legs in an ungainly fashion. This is getting us nowhere.
“You kissed me!” I shout as I paddle ungracefully after him. An extremely large bubble erupts out of my mouth and floats up to the s
urface as I say the words.
“It was the most effective way of getting the spell to work,” he replies. “And the quickest.”
“Oh. Hmph.” Of course it was for the spell. Whatever other reason could he have for kissing me? Don’t get your hopes up, Fliss.
“There’s no time limit. The spell will hold, so long as you don’t break the surface,” Smok says. “Take care to stay submerged.”
“As you say.” I take short, quick strokes, and when I find they don’t move me much at all, I try to kick my arms and legs in slow motion, with long movements. That doesn’t do much, either. I tumble head over heels and float uselessly through the water, like a lost fish.
“Are you really that bad?” Smok swims around me in a circle with a skeptical frown.
“I told you.” Smok spins around me as I flip over and over. I scramble to hold the skirts of my dress down as they billow out in the water. “We won’t get anywhere if I have to swim.”
“Grab hold of my tail, otherwise, we’ll be down here for centuries.” Smok swings his tail around to me. I grasp for it, but find it painstakingly out of my reach.
“I… can’t reach it!” I say as I flounder for the edge of his arrowhead. “This is impossible!”
“Fine! Just… sit on my back, as always.” Smok’s lower lip sticks out. He swims close enough to me that I can grab onto one of his spikes. I pull myself upward, and find happily that I’ve gained some mobility.
“You’ve very grumpy,” I say as I maneuver around his spikes to sit between his shoulders.
“I don’t have time for this!” he snaps. “Let us be off!”
Smok surges through the water. I cling to his scales to hold on as he jets quickly toward the bottom of the sea. The underwater world whirls by, and I gape at the beauty that is the Baltic Sea around me.
Eels, cod, goby, pike, and fish that I cannot name swim by us in large schools, in numbers that seem to rival those of all the people in the world. A strange, spotted ray floats by me, flapping its fins in a mysterious, ethereal fashion.
“Look, Smok!” I say. “That fish looks like you when you’re flying!”
