by Alan Marble
It was encouraging, in its way. There had to be a way to get through to Rebekah. “Come on, Rebekah. You don’t have to say anything, just listen. You know my voice, you know who I am. Now remember who you are. This isn’t right, you’re fighting the wrong people …”
Abruptly she spun herself around, letting momentum carry her forward while she was able to turn about and face him. It lasted but a second, just enough time for him to look into her eyes and see them burning with anger. Just long enough for her to exhale, spitting off a writhing fireball at him.
Jonah had not seen that coming. With a gasp he twisted himself, cut his wings through the air at a sharp angle and forced himself down and beneath the oncoming flames. Though he succeeded in dodging the attack, he had been thrown off, had lost the advantage. Glancing about wildly, he saw Rebekah starting to loop around, so she could come at him more directly, now with the upper hand, herself.
He also realized he was suddenly exposed to an attack from below, and cringed, expecting the air itself to come crushing down on him. When it never came, he turned to look below.
The mage seemed to have forgotten about him, given up in frustration, and turned his attention on Jeffress. The dragon, having nearly vanquished the other mage, suddenly found himself on the defensive, being assailed from both sides. Startled, Jonah let out a cry and turned himself into a dive, aiming straight for the man.
His cry had caught the mage’s attention, however, the man turning to look up at him with a startled, somewhat irritated look. Once more the man’s hands went up into the air, distorting the atmosphere around him, thickening it just as before. Jonah knew that he could not hope to penetrate that defense.
Just before he had to turn away he felt a blistering heat at his back. Realization washed over him, and Jonah held on to his course as long as he could, until just before smashing into the shield the mage had erected, darting off to the side, skimming right against the edge. For a brief moment the man smirked as he was once more successful in warding off the attack.
His eyes went wide with terror when he saw the fireball, intended for Jonah, tear right through the air shield without so much as slowing down. He barely had enough time to scream before he was enveloped in flame hot enough to sear him to ash.
Jonah could not help but to feel slightly disgusted at his minor victory; there was something hollow about having killed a man, even indirectly, and even in defense of his own life. Even if he had been more inclined toward jubilation he would not have been given the chance. Rebekah was already on the move behind him, leveling her own descent, preparing yet another fireball to lob at him. She was completely unperturbed at having incinerated her own guy.
In the brief moment that he was allowed to survey the scene below him, he could see that Jeffress had redoubled his assault on the one remaining mage, the man looking haggard and desperate as he tried to rebuff the dragon, his defenses weakening and failing. Abe, halfway across the valley, had gained an ally in the one dragon that he had successfully turned, and was now essentially a one on one contest there, as well.
They had evened the odds, but that too was little consolation. Looking across the valley Jonah could see nothing but shadow filling it from one side to the other, the only hint of sunlight being the crowns of the peaks on the other side, bathed in a golden hue from the sinking sun.
He was running out of time. Carolus’ dying warning echoed in his head; they only had until sunset and then whatever spell they were under would become permanent. Looking behind him he could see Rebekah still in hot pursuit, gaining slowly but surely on him.
“Rebekah!” He called out again, whipping around another outcropping of rock, his tail lashing at the air as he tried to keep far enough ahead. “Come on, it’s me! I’m trying to help you out here … please just tell me you can hear me?”
Her only response was another angry roar that accompanied a plume of writhing flame tossed in his direction. Exasperated, he tried changing tactics again, turning about rather abruptly, dodging the flame but arrowing straight for her. He cringed as he realized that they were both moving rather quickly. It was going to hurt.
She plowed right into him like a freight train, knocking him briefly senseless. They both spun wildly in the air for a moment, the remnants of their forward momentum casting them in a drooping arc over the mountainside before they smashed headlong into a bank of snow. Their angle was shallow enough and the snow deep enough that he wasn’t seriously hurt, and by the time the little cloud of snow they had kicked up began to settle he was able to get back on his feet, whipping around to try and see where she had fallen.
Rebekah was clawing and tearing at the snow piled around her, pushing her way back up to her feet a little clumsily while he watched. Steeling himself for how she might react, he racked his brains and tried to think of how he might snap her out of the spell. “Make them remember,” the old man had gasped before giving up the ghost. Growling loudly to himself, Jonah shook his head.
“I don’t know how,” he complained to the chilly air, launching himself at Rebekah again before she had fully come back to her senses. He was able to latch on to her back, gripping at her sides and shoving her back to the snow, roughly, as he snapped at the air at the side of her head. “You’re going to listen to me one way or another, Rebekah. Don’t force me to hurt you, too.”
She responded with a furious roar, thrashing wildly on the ground beneath him. He could feel her wings struggling to spread, the little claws at their joints jabbing into his underbelly and scraping at his scales, but he withstood that pain. Stray sputters of flame escaped from her jaws, licking at the ground beneath her as she tried to fight him off, digging herself against the ground and bucking backward.
Jonah had to dig his talons more firmly into her scales to keep from being completely thrown off. “Come on, dammit!” He screamed at her in frustration, knowing that his claws must have been hurting her, digging into her sides deep enough that they started to draw blood, but she wouldn’t relent. He didn’t want to hurt her, but if that was what it took to shake her loose from the spell …
Growling loudly, he leaned in and bit down on her wingshoulder, as hard as he dared without breaking something.
It did get a response out of her, albeit not the one that he was hoping for. Once more she roared fiercely and kicked against the ground with enough force to lift her partway off the ground, flipping her over to her back and carrying him with. Abruptly he was on his back, Rebekah’s squirming and thrashing form atop him, grinding him downward into the snow and rock beneath, her tail whipping around to lash into his sides.
He lost his grip. With one mighty shove she managed to roll off of him and back into the snow, slashing at his side as she did and tearing into the hide deep enough that he howled out in sharp pain, pulled away in the other direction. Instinct served him well, reminding him that he couldn’t lay there with his belly exposed, and he avoided another slash to his underside by a hair.
“Abe!” He had seen the big dragon do it, at least one of the clan had been freed. There had to be a secret, some trick to getting them to snap out of it, and he needed help. Rebekah was kicking little flurries of snow up at him, forcing him to duck back and out of the way so it didn’t get in his eyes, and he was growing desperate. “Abraham! Help me!”
Help was not going to come. Abe was too far away, and even if he’d heard the plea for help there was probably only so much he could do. Rebekah was going airborne again, the snow whipping about beneath her wings as she went aloft, leaving Jonah alone and exposed on the side of the mountain.
The peaks across the valley were deepening in color, changing from gold to copper and then finally seeming to burst into flame, reds and oranges licking against the snowy peaks as the day was giving way to dusk. He was almost out of time.
Scrambling across the snow to give himself a running start, Jonah took off into the air and tried to think. His head felt like it was spinning, running circles around itself and desper
ately clutching for an answer, some hint of what he had to do, some hope that he might stumble upon. He needed more time, and Rebekah was coming around again to pursue him once more, this time with renewed vigor.
He needed more time. Skimming along the edge of the mountain he shifted his direction, made his way directly for the higher peaks of Olympus that rose up in front of him, jagged voids against the glowing sky beyond, as if they were the only thing that stood between himself and the sunlight beyond. His rapid ascent up the mountain meant that Rebekah was now slightly below him, angling her way upward, keeping in close pursuit.
At last he breached the shadow and was once again bathed in sunlight. Exceeding the height of the mountain itself, he looked around with a quiet gasp. There was a strange and immense sort of beauty in the scene about him; a sea of rugged mountain peaks rising up in every direction, clad snow and shadow, a mix of reflected sunlight that burned nearly blood red and shade that looked almost vivid blue in comparison. In the west the sun hung low over the wrinkled, piled earth, a tired, crimson disk seeking to find rest beyond the horizon.
He still didn’t know how to save her. He needed more time. Finishing a quick little circle around the peak of the mountain, he pointed himself skyward and pulled as hard as his wings would take him.
Up he went, straight as an arrow, guided only by the deepening color of the sky around him, the tug of gravity against his tail, the heave of the air as his wings pushed against it mightily. He had no plan, no idea of what he was doing, no hope other than to keep going up, higher, as if he could delay the sunset just a little while longer, stay in its ruddy glow, buy himself just a few more moments.
Just a little more time, till he thought of the answer.
Rebekah remained in pursuit, her snarls and growls enough to let him know that she was not far beneath him, but he could not help himself. Glancing briefly downward he could see her, sleek black shape cutting through the air, gaining altitude with him. The expanse of peaks and valleys was receding beneath them, dragons becoming small shapes against the snow and then getting lost in the shifting shadows as all but the tallest mountaintops were bathed in darkness.
He still didn’t know what to do. “Rebekah,” he called out behind him, his voice growing desperate. “Rebekah … please, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to help you. Please, come back to us.”
Still she responded only with an angry growl, and still Jonah threw himself skyward. The earth continued to slip away beneath them, the sun growing hazy and indistinct as it continued to droop toward the horizon, undeterred in its path in spite of Jonah’s desperate flight upward. He had purchased a few minutes, at most, and still was coming up with nothing.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he cried, his voice becoming ragged. “Look … we can forget everything that happened. Start all over. Get to know each other better … I want to know what your favorite foods are, what you like to do for fun … please, just give me that chance …”
A plume of heat licking at his tail told him that he was not getting through. Shifting his path enough to keep away from the flames of her ire, he still climbed upward, ever upward, the chill in the air starting to seep into his scales, his breath growing yet more ragged as the air was becoming noticeably thinner. He knew he couldn’t go much further at this rate, and the sun was losing itself in the indistinct horizon.
“What do I have to do? How can I prove myself to you?” Whipping his tail as if it would propel him a little faster, Jonah’s lungs burned for oxygen, his wings seeming to slip, trying to clutch at the rarefied air.
It was too late. He’d lost all sight of the sun, vanished into the horizon, and his wings just could not keep up anymore. With one last heave and a gasp they simply folded uselessly up against his sides, and for one, brief moment he was suspended in the air, high enough to see where the earth met the sea, high enough to make out the faint curve to the horizon, high enough that the mountains were mere wrinkles beneath him.
The visions that had plagued him for the past several days came rushing back to the fore of his mind. Images of losing a loved one. Each time he was in the shoes of someone who was about to lose someone important to them, had to bid them farewell for the very last time, not knowing if they would ever see them again. He could remember the fear, poignant if muted, of knowing it might be a last goodbye.
Perhaps he would never see Rebekah again. Perhaps he had feared it all along, since before he even realized how he truly felt about her. It was a fear that he no longer remembered, but one that he felt gnawing at the deepest parts of his soul.
The wind reversed, flew past him quicker, building up to a hurricane roar in a matter of mere seconds. He could feel the membranes of his wings flapping uselessly as he tumbled earthward, could feel his tail being pulled out behind him, but somehow he didn’t really care. He’d failed, when he was needed the most. They had come so close to success, so close to victory, and yet at the last moment he had stumbled.
Slowly he twisted and tumbled through the air but wound up pointed downward, as if he were diving, dropping with ever more speed and ferocity. The mountains resolved themselves from each other, the peaks and valleys moving apart as they grew nearer, close enough to see the fading light of the dusk staining the snow in blues and violets. He thought he saw the shapes of dragons there, below, as the ground rushed up to meet him.
He found himself remembering his plummet from the bridge not so long ago. The way the wind whipped past him, the way the earth rushed upward, brought the memory back so vividly that he could almost see the river undulating beneath him, unhurried in its course, preparing to embrace him in its cold, watery grasp. Just as the snow and unyielding rock would embrace him now.
Something embraced him, but it was neither water nor rock nor snow. Legs wrapped around his torso, clutched him tight and pulled, and suddenly he was not just falling straight down. His insides churned against the abrupt change in course, gravity fighting to wrench him from the grasp and complete his fall, but the limbs clutching to him were too strong and held on tight.
“Don’t ever make me do this again, Jonah. I’m tired of plucking you out of the sky.” He saw the little hints of glossy black, heard her voice cutting through the air. Rebekah.
His mind reeled, his whole body going a bit limp at the realization. “You remembered,” was the only thing he could think to say.
Without responding, she slowed their descent through the air and pulled them around, bringing them back toward the open, flat space in the glacier. Jonah looked around a bit incoherently at the scene; Abe was on the ground, and there was another dragon next to him. There were also a small handful of people standing around, gesturing in their direction. He wondered where the other dragons had gone.
A little roughly, Rebekah deposited him on the ground, and he half sank in the snow. Coughing and flailing, Jonah sat up to realize that he had at some point reverted to human form, and suddenly felt very cold.
“Nice dive,” a voice next to him chuckled. It was Jeffress, also in human form, smiling over his salt and pepper beard and reaching out to help him to his feet. “Come on, get up. We can’t stay here long.”
Getting to his feet a little dizzy and bewildered, Jonah glanced around and tried to make sense of what was going on. Rebekah had landed on the other side of Abe and he could only just make out her wings; tempted as he was to run over and talk to her, he decided it was not the best time. Three others, the rest of the clan who had been presumably freed from the spell as well, were busy helping an old man get to his feet from where he had been bound.
It was the elder. He looked considerably more worn than before, his eyes sunken and dim. Shaking, he breathed a little sigh. “You fools. What are you doing here?”
“Saving your hide, Nate,” Abe responded, the big crimson dragon facing the other direction but turning around to grin at him.
“What have I told you about risking your necks to save me?”
Abe chuckled agai
n, a sound that was as welcome as it was out of place. “And you really expected us to listen?”
The old man forced a weak smile, leaning heavily on the two who were currently holding him up. “Be that as it may, I am too weak to fly, Abraham. You don’t look much better, yourself.”
“As soon as we get you out of here we can worry about that. Help him on to my back, I will carry him; the two of you will have to stay with him to make sure that he doesn’t fall,” he grunted, hunching down low to the ground to let the old man climb up, assisted.
The sound of rock exploding in the distance caught Jonah’s attention and he turned to look. At first he saw nothing, but there was another sound that echoed up through the valley, angry, grating roaring, and then he saw it - not one, not two, but all three bull drakes rising up from behind the opposing ridge, silhouetted against the darkening night sky.
Jeffress shook his head grimly at the sight. “Looks like our bulls finally managed to dig themselves out.”
“How … I thought they were dead,” Jonah complained, looking back with a worried expression, panic and dread once again forming in his chest.
“They’re a bit hard to kill off. Come on, let’s move!”
Once the elder was secure on Abe’s back, the big crimson dragon heaved his wings and caught the air, wheeling away from the bull drakes that were now coming straight for them. Rebekah and the other dragon lifted off at either side, to guard his flanks. Jeffress, waving him on, got a running start before stretching out and shifting back into dragon form, taking to the sky.
Jonah, tired of running, tired of fighting, nonetheless worked up the energy to force himself into a sprint, leaping upward into the air and letting his wings spread one more time, catching the air and following behind the fleeing dragons.
It wasn’t long before Jeffress took a look back and spoke up. “They’re gaining on us Abe … we won’t be able to shake them, at this rate. Don’t suppose you can move any faster?”
