Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 5-8

by Wilson, Sarah K. L.

  “Let me fetch a litter,” the man said.

  Zyla leaned in while he was gone, whispering in my ear. “Eventen is a good man and a talented healer, but he doesn’t need to know about Saboraak.”

  Like I would let that slip.

  “Or your markings,” she said.

  Even I wished I could forget those. I heard scuffling footsteps.

  “Here, roll him to the side and I’ll slip the litter under him,” Eventen said.

  Zyla grunted as she rolled me onto my side. I tried to help, but everything felt so heavy. I clung to the little book as it all went dark again.

  I woke to a real bed. A real, soft, dry bed and a crackling fire in a real hearth. There was the smell of food cooking and a kettle on the boil. I sighed happily and opened my eyes.

  I was in a bed in a large room. A staircase wound up on one end of it and a door painted red was shut against the weather. Herbs hung in bunches from the railing and the crossbeams above my head – more herbs than I would have imagined anyone would need. Shelf upon shelf of stone jars stood stoppered against one wall and a long bench scattered with herbs and a big open book stood before the shelves.

  I sat up, surprising myself.

  “It was mostly magical,” Eventen said from the stove where he was frying eggs in a wide black pan. “The beating didn’t help your guts, but the malaise was mostly magical. Someone out there doesn’t like you much.”

  “Most people don’t,” I replied.

  He chuckled and turned to me. He was a big man – younger than I would have guessed – with thick, dark hair and a bitter twist to his mouth.

  “You’re lucky I owe Hubric a debt. I used more of my resources on you than I’d like. I don’t run this herb house to do good. I run it to make a profit.”

  I swallowed. I hated being in someone’s debt, but there was no way to repay him.

  “Do you eat eggs?” he asked.

  “Where is Zyla?” I asked.

  “Zyla is it? She’s tending her dragon. You’re lucky you were picked up by a Dragon Rider. She’s a natural – and I’d know. Oh, I’d know. There’s a reason all the Dragon Riders come here for their herbs and tonics. Come and eat some eggs.”

  I stood on unsteady legs, finding my breeches and shirt clean and dry beside the bed. The harness was even there with the single knife in its holster and a thick cloak had been laid out. I dressed quickly while Eventen’s back was to me. I didn’t trust the man despite the healing he’d given me. There was something about him that bothered me.

  “Most of Hubric’s friends are up to something,” Eventen said as he brewed tea. “Are you up to trouble, boy? You can tell Eventen. I don’t see many people, and I don’t do things for free, but I could help you.”

  I tried my best grin, “The only trouble I ever want is the difficulty of choosing which pretty girl to kiss.”

  He turned from the tea and gave me a long hard look. My smile faded. So, charm and jokes wouldn’t work here.

  “Your book is on the bench,” he said.

  I snatched it up, tucking it away in my pocket.

  “Dangerous stuff in that book,” Eventen said, serving out eggs and fat slices of hot bread. My stomach rumbled at the sight and I took a step forward. “The Ibrenicus Prophecies are dangerous enough. The Lightbringers,” his lips twisted around the word, “might have saved us from the Ifrits, but they’re a dangerous lot. They have ideas – strange ideas – about prophecies coming true and self-sacrifice and things that can take over a man’s life and get him killed.”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up a finger. Instead, I chose to sit at the table. He sat down with me.

  “Don’t bother denying your loyalties, boy. I looked through the book. I saw other things written, too. Things just as dangerous. If you go down that path, you’ll lose.”

  “What path is that?” I asked, innocently. I took a sip of the tea, not certain I was allowed to eat without his permission, but he lifted a fork and began to tuck in.

  “Lightbringers,” he said between mouthfuls. “Are always looking for heroes to stop wars and tell truth and save the world. That’s no life. Tell me, boy, are you a hero?”

  “I’ve never claimed to be,” I said lightly, taking a quick mouthful of eggs. My belly rumbled loudly as the food hit my tongue. I ate as quickly as I could, emptying my mouth just to fill it again.

  Eventen leaned over the table until he was inches from my face. I swallowed my eggs but refused to back up. He might be ten years older than me, but I was no child to be pushed around. Not even by a healer. Not even by a healer I owed a debt to.

  “I’m on your side boy. I don’t know what mess this young Dragon Rider and Hubric Duneshifter have thrown you into, but it’s not too late. I’ve healed you up and she isn’t here right now. My suggestion? Eat that food and run out the back door. You can hide in the woods where no one will ever see those tattoos. If you don’t, then you’ll end up like everyone else Hubric touches – a sacrificial lamb. Sure, you might stop a war. You might save the world from magical creatures. You might be the hero they desperately need, but that’s no life. Take my offer and run while you can. I can distract the girl and the dragon. There’s a bag of supplies right beside the back door.”

  I swallowed, clenching my fist at my side. I could feel the scar on my hand growing cold – what he said was true. And I could see the future weaving out before me – a future of living in the forest, hunting and gathering, maybe making myself a fine wooden house like the one I was sitting in and eating hot eggs for breakfast every morning.

  But then I thought of Saboraak. I’d never ride her again if I did that. I thought of Zyla and her fiery spirit and confusing ways. I remembered the last time I’d kissed her. I wanted to do that again. I thought of Bataar and Zin in those caves and of Hubric and Kyrowat flying through enemy lands to set them free again.

  I couldn’t walk away from them all – even if what he said was true.

  “I appreciate the advice,” I said, “and I appreciate the healing even more.”

  His eyebrows rose like he was waiting for more. I could say something deep and meaningful, but that wasn’t really my thing. Flippant was easier.

  “But I’d never choose a walk in the woods over a pretty girl’s company.”

  Eventen stood up and opened a cupboard, fishing out a length of grey cloth that looked like smoke and folding it expertly into a narrow strip.

  “At least tie this around your head. You look like an idiot with that golden crown.”

  “Thanks.”

  I tied the strip around my head as he suggested, but my thoughts felt heavy in my mind. He was right that I could just walk away. I’d gotten in over my head. And this was probably my last chance to back out or I’d end up as dead as he was warning me I would. But I couldn’t do that and still live with myself.

  Worse than that, his comment about my golden daytime marking worried me. I still hadn’t seen my face in a mirror. But the suggestion that the marking I received when I was named Ko’roi looked like a crown disturbed me. Every time the cloth rubbed uncomfortably across my forehead, I was reminded that men who wore crowns usually ended up dead – whether the crown meant anything or not.

  Chapter Six

  I NEVER THOUGHT YOU would leave us, Saboraak said when I finally joined her again.

  I brought Zyla her eggs, wrapped in a thick piece of bread. She hadn’t come in to eat.

  “Good, you’re here,” she said when I arrived, taking the food. “We’re all saddled up and ready to go. You’ve expressed our gratitude?”

  She was so stiff, not looking me in the eye. I flinched from her words. Wasn’t she happy to see me?

  “You could still reconsider, you know,” Eventen said. I thought he was talking to me but when I turned around, he was leaning over Zyla. “Other Dragon Riders have settled down outside their structure. Dragon School can’t force you to serve them if you really want to go. You’d like it here. I have more books tha
n you saw last night. Books on every topic. We see traders through at least once a month. And the craft keeps the mind endlessly busy. You would like it. It’s the kind of life an intelligent woman craves.”

  She blushed, looking down. “I have other obligations.”

  My mouth dropped open. Was he –?

  Surely, you’ve seen a man propose marriage to a woman before? I read this is done commonly among your species.

  Was that why he was offering me an out? He wanted to sweep Zyla away from me?

  I’m not sure she’s entirely yours, Tor. You can’t hear her heart fluttering like I can.

  Was she kidding? My eyes had grown so large they started to glaze over. She had to be kidding! I felt my fists ball up and my jaw clench. If he thought –

  Mount up.

  Ha! Unlikely. I was going to give him a chance to practice his healing arts ... on himself! Why wasn’t I breathing naturally? Who told my heart to speed up like that?

  Mount up, Tor. Shake out of it. The man just healed you from a magical infection. You can’t hit him in the jaw.

  My scar burned icy cold and I flinched from the truth in her words. I could almost see the future weaving in the sky above me – me punching Eventen in the jaw, Zyla’s cold look in response, my flying away on Saboraak leaving her here with him...

  You wouldn’t have left me, anyway. I knew that you wouldn’t even when I heard him asking you to go.

  I would never leave you, Saboraak. I shot a baleful glance at Eventen and mounted Saboraak, strapping into her saddle. Zyla had stashed the sling away and everything was in order, ready for our next leg of the journey.

  Zyla. Why would her heart be beating faster at an offer from an old man?

  I don’t think he’s even thirty yet. He’s hardly old.

  Thirty? That was far too old for her!

  Is it? I have trouble gauging these things with humans. Thirty-year-old hatchlings are barely trusted to leave the nest on their own.

  Dragons and humans were not the same. I ground my teeth together. Marriage!

  “Zyla!” I called, louder than I’d meant to. “We need to get going.”

  She looked back at me over her shoulder, her golden eyes guarded before murmuring something to Eventen.

  Girls were the worst. She’d been kissing me only days ago and now she was whispering with Eventen and letting her heart beat faster! Who would even consider someone like him for a husband? The way he leaned against that tree, slightly hunched so that his dark hair covered one of his eyes – was that something girls even liked? He looked too lazy to live. In a battle, he’d be more worried about how he looked than walloping the other man. And why would he be asking her for marriage?

  Her parents taught her a lot. She’s well educated, and she knows herbs. She’d be an asset to him. Plus, I think he’s lonely.

  Well, it was obvious why he would want her, but what made him think she would want him? Ha! Good luck with that! A life stuck in a stupid little wood house.

  The very house you were thinking about imitating only minutes ago ...

  With a stupid hairy oaf of a man.

  The very man who just healed you of a magical malaise ...

  Anyway, she’d be a fool to take the offer.

  “If you don’t come now, I’ll leave without you!” I called.

  You sound desperate.

  I do not!

  Don’t worry, Tor. You and I can fulfill the mission with or without Zyla.

  It wasn’t the mission I was worried about. It was the way my chest felt all raw and achy. Don’t tell Zyla about that, Saboraak! I’m warning you!

  By the time she peeled herself away from Eventen and mounted Saboraak, my ears felt so hot that I thought steam might be pouring out of them. I sat patiently as Saboraak rose up into the air and soared above the evergreens toward the west.

  We were on our way to Woelran. Zyla hadn’t had time to tell me why we were going there yet, but as sure as breathing I wasn’t about to ask her. Not right now when she’d almost been swept away by a moody man in a wooden house full of dead plants.

  I treated her to a stony silence. It was the most she deserved for talking to that big creep.

  You sound ridiculous. Listen to yourself.

  After Eventen House was well in the distance, Zyla spoke up.

  “Woelran is rife with spies and enemies. We will need to be careful there and disguise ourselves well.”

  I grunted.

  “It’s a good thing that Eventen gave you that cloth for your forehead,” she said.

  It was all I could do not to snatch it off. My hands were gripping the saddle so hard that my knuckles were white.

  “I wouldn’t have stayed, you know,” she said airily.

  “But you wanted to,” I spat.

  She sighed.

  “Haven’t you ever thought about living a different life? Even for a moment?”

  “No,” I lied, and my scar burned red hot against my skin.

  Chapter Seven

  I PICKED AT MY CLOTH headband irritably as we flew. I wasn’t the only one who was uncomfortable. Saboraak changed colors and shapes three times before settling on purple with a longer neck than usual and delicate features.

  It’s hard not to be uncomfortable with both of you sitting in stony silence.

  Well, I wasn’t going to be the one to speak first!

  “And you shouldn’t have to,” my mimic agreed, lounging on Saboraak’s neck. “She was supposed to like you. She was supposed to want to kiss you. You should remind her that you’re basically the Chosen One for a whole group of people and that you’ve beaten Magikas and nobles and even this dragon belongs to you!”

  I frowned. When he put it that way I sounded petty. Besides, I thought I was rid of him.

  “Hardly,” the mimic said. “Destroying that other shadow took a lot out of me. I’ve had ... effects.”

  He flickered.

  But you’re still here. I didn’t say it aloud. I didn’t want Zyla to think I was crazy.

  “You won’t be rid of me so easily.”

  He vanished and Saboraak huffed loudly. She still thought I was crazy. I felt like I could chew nails.

  Everything seemed to irritate me from the rub of the cloth around my forehead – I’d never asked for those markings! – to the way the sun shone a little too brightly over the dewy evergreens. The snow in these mountains was sparse. There were hardened icy lumps of it in narrow drifts with crusted edges, but nothing fresh. Between the ragged drifts, wet squelchy ground showed.

  I didn’t know if I preferred the blistering cold of Ko’Torenth or the heat of the Kav’ai deserts, or this wet land. But I knew I was in a bad mood. Why did Zyla have to go and make eyes at Eventen?

  Why don’t you stop moping and actually tell her how you feel? Then maybe she won’t feel the need to make you jealous. I don’t understand you two at all!

  I picked at the folded cloth and looked out over the evergreens. I couldn’t see the sea in the distance, though Saboraak said it was there.

  Patience. You will see the sea soon. I think you will like it. I have always loved oceans. Did you know that there are dragons who live under the sea?

  Impossible! Dragons were heat and fire, not cold and wet!

  Dragons come in many forms. Those in the sea are very ancient. They have not been plagued by human wars as we have – though they have their own troubles.

  How do you know about them?

  Just because I have not traveled much in human lands doesn’t mean I haven’t traveled at all. I have met sea dragons. You’d like them. They’re blue.

  Blue! Could Saboraak turn blue?

  I could, but that would be poor camouflage up here on land, don’t you think? People don’t expect blue dragons here. And sea dragons don’t have the same kind of wings.

  It was hard to stay mad when I was thinking about blue dragons. Maybe we’d go visit them when all of this was over. I could see us on an island somewhere, staring down i
nto the sea at ancient dragons ...

  “I like that idea. An island is bound to have treasure,” my mimic said, flickering in for a moment, picking at his teeth and flickering out again. I almost hated him more now that he was only there now and then.

  I’ve been thinking about your mimic problem, Saboraak thought.

  Did that mean she finally believed me?

  I don’t know. But I have been thinking about a solution anyway. Even if the mimic isn’t ‘real’ he needs to be dealt with because clearly, he’s ... on your mind.

  Or in my mind.

  Yes.

  Well, her advice couldn’t hurt. Saboraak could be wise sometimes.

  Thank you for the vote of confidence. She paused mentally before continuing. Everyone has parts of who they are that are tainted. They aren’t who they wish they were. Those parts don’t line up with what they know is good and right and true. Now, most people hide that part of themselves – or at least dragons do, and I think humans must, too. They hide it down deep and try to forget it’s there. Maybe they get so good at hiding it that they think it doesn’t exist anymore, that they aren’t that person, that they aren’t capable of those things. And then something happens, and the shadow gets out and they come face to face with it. What do they do?

  Go crazy?

  No. They try to ignore it and pretend it never happened. And for some people that works – sort of. You can live a shallow life without ever acknowledging that shadow even though it walks around with you all day. But you’ll never control it. It might reach out and act at any time. For others, it doesn’t work. They can’t ignore it so they acknowledge it’s them and they live with heavy guilt or shame about it.

  That sounds awful. If you think that I ...

  Oh, I don’t think you’d feel shame about anything, Tor. No, you’re more likely to be like Shabren and embrace that shadow. Let it show you new ways to look at things. See the depths of exactly how much power you have – for good or for evil.

  Well, when she put it like that it didn’t sound so bad, but the shadows had taken over Shabren.

  And unless you get control of that shadow, it will take over you, too. Maybe just a little at first. You find it helpful. It gives you what you want, so you let it take over when you really need it. But ‘need’ changes as time goes on. What you thought of as needs before, become givens and new things become needs as you want more and more. So soon enough, you will let that shadow take over more often and more often. Slowly. Until it eats you alive.