Bloodmines: Cheryl Matthynssens

by Cheryl Matthynssens

  Alador nodded. He hoped this was the case. Given that he had no idea how to appease the damage he’d done to his relationship with Mesiande; appeasing an unhappy, large, blue dragon was hardly likely to be on his list of skills. Alador wondered if there were similarities in the behaviour of a displeased dragon and a displeased Daezun female.

  “I guess I should be off then.” Alador stood up, having eaten his fill. “Is there… Can we talk again before we take the bloodmines?” Alador hurriedly added: “…to ensure that our plans are melded well?” He sighed, hoping that Keensight had not picked up on his wanting more than just plans to meld.

  “Of course. Henrick’s medallion will ensure that you have that ability. However, I do suggest some form of announcement before you arrive. You might catch me at my most charming and, well… you seem to be an impressionable lad.” Keensight seemed to be quite amused with himself today.

  Alador shook his head with amusement and a soft chuckle as he moved to where his backpack still sat and scooped it up. He turned and stopped before Keensight. “Thank you for your hospitality and for your decision not to eat me,” Alador stated solemnly. He bowed with a flourish.

  “That decision can be reversed, if you fail me in the bloodmines,” Keensight warned, pointing a sharp talon at him.

  “I would expect nothing less,” Alador said with a nod as he rose up.

  “One last thing,” Keensight turned his head so a full eye was on Alador. “Make up with your father. Too often in life, our last words spoken are the ones we regret when our loved ones have fallen.” Keensight’s tone held an edge of sorrow as he spoke.

  Alador remembered that Renamaum and Keensight’s last words had been bitter, but the sorrow seemed deeper. He decided not to ask and just nodded his head. He turned and left with a lump in his throat.

  Returning the way he had come seemed much quicker. Of course, not having to climb a cliff face greatly added to the rate of return. He stepped through the falls swiftly and discovered that it was a colder day than when he had traveled here. The wind held the promise of snow, and the birds were quieter today. His breath formed outside his mouth in puffs of steamy clouds. He swiftly drew the drying cantrip up: it was not a day to be damp in the wind.

  A sudden sound drew his attention and as he looked up he saw Keensight fly overhead. The dragon was impressive with wings spread in a full glide. He noted there were small rips and tears in them as the dragon passed by. Even so, the power behind each thrust and the snap of the wing in the wind was awe-inspiring. Their bodies looked too heavy to fly, and he wondered about the magic that enabled them to take to the air. He stared, watching until Keensight had disappeared into the clouds.

  He made it to the lake and moved a bit more warily. He did not know where on the lake’s edge he would find Pruatra, or if she was even coming. Alador checked the sky for any signs of a dragon at each clearing as he made his way back around the lake shore.

  Stopping to chew on some jerky at the far end of the lake, he surveyed the hill rising above to find where he had made his way down. He sat down on a fallen tree and scanned the sky once more. The morning was serene with the lapping sounds of the water, the muted light, and the peaceful movements of korpen and prang.

  “Is it true? Do you possess my mate’s power, and does some remnant of him live within you?” A decidedly feminine voice questioned.

  He was so deep in his scrutiny that when the voice spoke, he cursed as he rose and spun, lightening already forming in his hand. There, rising above the lake, was a giant blue dragon head. It was nearly as big as Keensight’s, though it seemed more serpentine. The tones of her voice were more musical, without the guttural growl to them.

  He immediately bowed low, letting the power ebb from his hand. “Milady Pruatra, a pleasure to meet you in person,” he murmured. He felt a strange tugging at his mind. “I believe your mate would prefer to speak with you, rather than letting me talk.” He found a way of responding to the pressure he felt inside: stepping back and letting go. He owed Renamaum this meeting. He did not like the idea that he was carrying the spirit of a dragon around, but at least he now knew what it felt like when that dragon asserted himself more directly than through dreams and warnings.

  Pruatra moved gracefully through the water to the edge, staying just deep enough for her own safety, or so Alador assumed. “Prove to me it is true. Tell me something that only my mate would know,” she insisted.

  Alador smiled at her. He felt as if he was talking, and yet he knew the words were not his own. “When you were heavy with your eggs, a black dragon came to steal you away to his own lair. I fought valiantly for you, vanquishing my foe despite his youth and slick skills in the air. Yet, when the battle was done, your main concern was that he had ruined the fish I had brought for your dinner.” Renamaum’s haughty tones came through despite his use of Alador’s diminutive vocal cords.

  Pruatra made the same deep rumbling sound as Keensight had when he laughed. “Yes, I do remember that the fish was quite destroyed. But that could be a memory impressed upon the stone. Tell me something that is unlikely to have been impressed upon a stone, something more… intimate."

  “You switch your tail just a little, back and forth, when you are sated.” Alador felt himself blush, although the words came out of his own mouth.

  Pruatra stared at him for the longest time. “How could you let yourself be… in a mortal body?” Her concern and grief were clear. She rocked back and forth making a strange keening noise that Alador did not understand, but obviously Renamaum did.

  “Do not cry, my heart. It breaks me still, despite the passage of time. I told you of the blessings of the gods, and this is but one piece of what was foretold.”

  Alador listened uncomfortably. Why was it that so much was kept from him?

  “But it is not even fair to look upon! It is as if a curse of ugliness was laid upon it at birth. Couldn’t you have possessed something with more appeal?” Pruatra snapped out her displeasure, eyeing Alador with disdain.

  “He is of the old blood. He has what is needed to see my greatest desire fulfilled: that this isle should find peace, and that dragons will no longer be hunted within the safety of this land.” Renamaum’s words struck Alador deeply. “Our time is short: I cannot speak through him for long; I weaken each time I do. Tell me of our fledglings?” Renamaum asked with a clear tone of hope.

  “I will let them speak for themselves.” The dragoness let out a strange shrill sound. Alador immediately searched the sky. Three dragons at once had not been not in his plans. He shifted within uneasily, but felt a wave of reassurance from the blue dragon that now held control of him.

  Two younger dragons landed on either side of him. Alador’s heart raced to be surrounded by such noble but daunting creatures. These two were a lighter blue, one slightly larger than the other, but both only about two-thirds the size of their mother. “They are magnificent,” Alador breathed out.

  Behind him, Pruatra splashed more up out of the water. “On your right is your daughter, her name is Rena. On your left is your son, Amaum. Fledglings, this Daezun is honored to carry the soul of your father: that his life’s work may continue.” Pruatra nuzzled Alador’s head from behind gently, sending chills and water down his spine. “Your name, mortal?” Pruatra whispered in his ear, her breath damp and cool.

  “Alador. I am pleased to meet you both.” Alador could feel Renamaum’s pleasure at seeing his fledglings whole and healthy He gasped as the dragon’s emotions at seeing his small ones for the first time almost overwhelmed him. Alador slowly felt the dragon slide away. “He has gone,” Alador murmured with sudden anxiety.

  The one called Rena moved forward and pushed him a bit with her nose. “Let him out,” she insisted with a growl. Her look could only be a displeased scowl.

  “It does not work that way, Rena.” Pruatra scolded gently. “This Daezun had no choice in the path he has been given. The most we can do to honor your father is to help him along the path.”


  Alador turned to face Pruatra. “I need to learn how to use Renamaum’s power. There is more at stake here than just the dragons’ fate. The leader of the Lerdenian people is a strong mage, and he intends to enslave my people, as well.” He searched the head that was so close. He longed to touch it, to feel what a dragon’s skin was like, but he did not want to offend this newfound aid.

  “That will take time,” Pruatra warned. “Renamaum studied many turns to excel in the ways of magic.”

  “Then I need an intense lesson. I have about ten days, and then whatever I have learned is what I will have to complete Renamaum’s geas.” Alador put both his hands out to the side. “Please.”

  Pruatra considered carefully. “As it must be then. We can stay here; there are enough fish in the lake and other beasts to feed us for a time.”

  “This is a protected vale belonging to Keensight. Do you think he will mind?” Alador did not want to anger his allies before he had even established a good relationship with them.

  “Do not worry about Keensight: he owes me a thing or two.” Pruatra laughed in a knowing dragonlike manner.

  “Then I just need to travel over the hill to fetch my father, I will need his help as well. He is a friend of Keensight’s, so ...” Alador answered. “You don’t have to worry about him,” he promised hurriedly.

  Amaum stepped forward with a deep bass tone that throbbed through Alador. “The mage with too big a fire…?”

  Alador ran a hand through his hair, now wet from Pruatra’s attentions. “That would be him.”

  “I will fetch him for you,” Amaum said, wagging his tale with anticipation. “I like to sneak up on mages.” The young male launched himself into the air.

  “Now that, I wish I could see.” He grinned at Pruatra.

  The dragoness made her way out of the lake and flopped down. “Where do you wish to start, psuedo-dragon?”

  Alador blinked at the title she gave him. He guessed, in a way, it was true. “Weather.”

  “You jump at the hardest of all tasks as your first?” Pruatra eyed him.

  “It is the one I must master, as there is an immediate need,” Alador answered.

  “Well then, let us start where it will please us both. Rena...” She paused, looking over to her daughter.

  “Yes?” The younger female moved up next to Alador. .

  “Teach him to make it warmer. I could use a little sun on my wings.” Pruatra laid her head down and stretched out in the grass as she closed her eyes.

  Alador turned to Rena as she eyed him first left and right. “I hope you learn quickly. She gets a bit grumpy when she is cold.” Rena sighed to indicate the severity of the consequences that might arise from her mother’s ‘grumpiness’. “Come, we will let her rest and work until my brother and your fire mage appear.”

  As she led the way, Alador smiled. He had hoped to enlist the help of one dragon. Instead, he had found four.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rena turned out to be a very good teacher: she was patient and soft-spoken. He had never thought of dragons as individuals with personalities and quirks. In fact, he had always thought them as revered magical beasts, and the thought of sitting down and having a conversation with them had just never occurred to him. It would have been like sitting down to speak with a god.

  Even after Henrick’s tales of Keensight and their conversations, or even the dreams, a part of him had held onto a piece of his old way of looking at dragons. He now knew that he would never see dragons the same way again. He forced himself to pay attention as she began explaining the weather spell in a different way. Her first explanation of warming the air had confused him.

  Rena sat on her haunches and, with a talon, pushed two stones side by side. “The air is filled with little stones that most cannot see. Heat is created when the stones get excited. They run into each other, like rubbing one’s wing on the same spot over and over. Eventually, warmth is created.”

  Alador lowered himself to sit cross-legged across from her. “So like rubbing hands together to warm them when cold?” Alador asked.

  “Yes, this is it. These air stones are your components for the spell.” Rena looked down at him; even sitting, she was still a full man’s height above him.

  “How do you know the air is filled with these little stones?” Alador asked, looking into the space around him, confused as to how floating rocks, even small could not be seen.

  “Do mortals not see the world around them?” Rena sighed with exasperation. “If you look hard enough then you can see them. These little air stones are important to any spell of weather. The problem is, so is the sun, and at certain times, the angle of Vesta tilts away from it. When that happens, the air is colder and the snows come.”

  “So if the stones are a component, then you must have them for any weather spell?” Alador eyed the two stones she had set side by side.

  “Correct. So you must work with the other two aspects: the air stones and the water in the air,” Rena said with approval. “To create a violent storm, you speed up the air stones creating heat in one part of the sky, and in another, you slow them down. This is the same way you can create wind, although at a lesser intensity than for a storm. To create a storm, you also add water into the sky.”

  Alador frowned. “Do I need to see the air stones to create a storm or calm one?” He looked up at the blue dragon who was sitting on her haunches still watching him.

  “Yes. This is your first task. To learn what you seek, you must learn to see with more than your eyes,” Rena tried to explain. “I cannot teach this. You must find it yourself. My Dame said my Sire could create a warm day for her anytime she wished it, or bring a cooling rain. If my Sire resides within you, then a part of you already knows how to see the air stones.” Her tone sounded doubtful of his claim to hold a part of Renamaum.

  She got up and lumbered off to join her mother in the patch of sun, curling up next to her. Alador looked back at the two females; Rena was still about a third smaller and the blue in her scales was lighter. Other than that, there wasn’t much to tell them apart.

  Alador looked back to the rocks on the ground with the trace of a frown. He did not doubt the dragon, but at the same time, he had always seen the sky as empty space when there were no clouds. What Rena suggested was that the sky was never empty.

  He tried staring at a large rock in the distance, trying to see the air stones between him and the rock. All he accomplished was watering eyes and frustration. How did you see something that generally cannot be seen?

  He was startled from his pondering as two large packs dropped beside him, then Amaum came skittering in, sliding across the dirt rather than landing in a direct descent. His slide sprayed dirt all over his sister, Rena.

  Alador could not help but grin when Rena picked up her head with obvious disapproval. “When are you going to mature into a proper male?”

  Amaum folded his great wings as he answered, “When it comes to you, little sister, never.”

  “I am the same number of turns as you are,” she grumbled as she laid her head back down to return to her nap without bothering to remove the fine layer of dust and dirt.

  “Yes, but you are still littler than me,” Amaum smugly said before turning back to Alador.

  Alador was amused by the exchange, having had similar ones with Sofie. He already liked these two siblings, and he was fairly certain that was independent of Renamuam’s pride.

  Amaum moved to Alador and smugly stated, “Your fire mage is in a bit of a temper. I decided to help place him in a better mood by carrying his packs. He should be here in a bit. He was bemoaning having to walk.” Amaum flopped down close to Alador.

  “Why is Henrick in a temper?” Alador was not late, and he doubted that Henrick was disturbed to meet another dragon.

  “Well, his fire went out.” Amaum stated, plopping his head down on his forefeet.

  “He’s a fire mage, I doubt that is a problem.” Alador glanced over at the dr
agon and met his gaze; there was no doubt that the glimmer in Amaum’s eyes was mischievous.

  “What... what did you do?” Alador grinned at Amaum.

  “Well, it went like this. It started to rain in a rather localized location, so he went into his tent,” Amaum said holding up on talon. “Then his fire went out.” A second talon went up. “This wind came out of nowhere and blew his tent off its loosened pegs.” Amaum’s amusement was barely contained.

  Alador was trying not to laugh as he tried to picture the scene of this young male playing tricks on Henrick. “I see. Then what happened?"

  “Well, he figured out by then that it was not natural weather, and so he started cursing you.” Amaum stated with a huge grin that showed all his razor sharp teeth.

  Alador sighed and rolled his eyes. “That was the last thing I need. We are already at odds.”

  “I figured this was the case and showed myself. You do, after all, carry my Sire within. I don’t need your Sire damaging mine.” Amaum eyed the hilltop that Henrick would be coming over.

  “I appreciate that.” Alador grinned at Amaum. “I wish I’d have seen his face when it suddenly rained on him.”

  Amaum just gave that toothy grin back. Alador shook his head and returned to trying to see the air stones. Amaum eyed the rocks in front of the mage then Alador.

  “Trying to see air stones?” he asked.

  “Yes. But I don’t see how you can see with more than your eyes.” Alador frowned down at the rock. “I can’t seem to focus hard enough.”

  “That would be the problem: to see air stones you have to focus on nothing. You let your mind and eyes clear and you sense them, see them, feel them,” Amaum answered.

  “How do you focus on nothing?” Alador had a hard time following the way these two dragons explained things.

  “You… well… I mean, in the distance.” Amaum thought hard about how to explain. “Your common tongue is missing words sometimes”