The Dragon Dimension

by D K Drake

  It took them until sun up to get Mertzer off the boat and onto the swampy south shore. The only way they had been able to do that was by wrapping Mertzer in fishing nets and pulling the dragon inch by inch down the plank.

  Micah wasn’t sure what story Karl was going to tell the authorities to explain his missing boat at the dawn check in. It better have been a good one, or Karl faced a lashing at best and imprisonment at worst.

  Soon his brother wouldn’t have to worry about following the law; he would be able to enforce it again once Micah completed his dragon-hunting mission, returned triumphantly to the castle, and convinced Omri to reinstate Karl’s place as a soldier. At least he thought that’s what Karl would ask for when Micah returned for him. He never did say exactly what he wanted in return for his help.

  Half the morning had gone by before Mertzer had been alert enough to walk, but Micah couldn’t travel on a walking dragon through south Zandador once they got to the edge of the marshland.

  The lack of wooded areas in this part of the country would make Mertzer easy to spot even if they avoided the roads that connected the assortment of villages, cities, and towns throughout the open land. Since Mertzer couldn’t become invisible, Micah needed to wait until he could run too fast to be seen.

  By noon, Mertzer had regained his strength, so Micah pushed him hard in a zigzag pattern through meadows and farms as they headed south toward Posa.

  He still didn’t know why Javan had come to Posa for healing ointment. It was the southernmost city of Zandador and more than 1500 miles east of Dawn Stalker territory. Plenty of other towns closer to stalker territories could provide healing ointment, towns nowhere near the desert. So why would he come to Posa?

  Micah was still pondering that question when they reached the outskirts of the city. Like Madai, it had a fence around its perimeter and guards at the gates. Micah didn’t need to get inside the city, though. He wanted to find Varjiek, and Varjiek would not be in the city; he would be camped somewhere outside the city.

  He had nowhere to hide north or south of Posa. The desert was to the south, and the land to the north was nothing but rolling green meadows. The open land did give way to woods east and west of the city along the desert border. All Micah had to do was search the woods for signs of a dragon.

  First he needed to take care of his own dragon by letting him eat, since Mertzer’s scales were beginning to change colors. He wanted to deny Mertzer dinner due to the frustration he caused earlier, but dealing with a hungry dragon wasn’t worth the hassle.

  He thus steered Mertzer toward the woods east of the city and released him to hunt for his dinner. While Mertzer hunted for food, Micah hunted for signs of Javan and Varjiek.

  Micah wound his way through miles of miles of towering uxe trees until he came across a meadow that housed a quiet little lake teeming with fish. During a quick perimeter search, Micah discovered a dragon-sized patch of trampled grass on the south side of the lake near buried ashes from a small campfire. The ashes were cold, but the bony remains of fish mixed in with the ashes couldn’t have been more than a few days old.

  “Found you,” Micah said, sifting the dirt and ashes through his fingers, “but where did you go?”

  He stood and looked around, hoping to find some clue to indicate which direction Javan had gone. “What are you doing, Micah?” He sighed as he chided himself. “Varjiek probably flew out of here, and you can’t track an airborne trail.”

  Frustrated, he turned to head back in the direction he had come knowing he needed the hour of daylight he had left to get back to his rendezvous point with Mertzer. Something, however, was bothering him about the woods further south. Too much light streamed through those trees.

  Logic told him to ignore it and get back to Mertzer. His gut told him to investigate. He listened to his gut and sprinted south.

  He didn’t have to sprint far to find the reason for too much light: dozens of uxe trees had been stripped of their leaves, allowing the fading sunlight to filter all the way through to the ground. Javan would only need to chop down that many leaves if he was preparing for a trip through the desert.

  No dragons lived in the desert or in the regions south of Zandador. So why would Javan want to subject himself and his dragon to the dangers of the desert?

  “The healing ointment must not be working on that wound. I bet he needs to make his way to Keckrick for medicine.”

  Micah smiled. A weak Javan would make for an easy target, especially in the desert where the playing field was leveled. If the legend was true, Varjiek wouldn’t be able to fly over the land, and Mertzer could run much faster than the Noon Stalker.

  Despite their head start, Micah and Mertzer would be able to catch up to them in no time. All Micah had to do was gather a few uxe leaves of his own for the journey, then meet up with his dragon.

  If all went well, he would have a Noon Stalker added to his name by morning.

  Chapter 14

  Oasis

  More, Varjiek urged, sticking out his tongue that had become as dry and cracked as the land they stood on. The sun had risen a few hours ago, bringing with it the now familiar brutal heat of the desert days. They hadn’t been able to find trees or vegetation of any kind in this part of the desert and were forced to simply cook in the sun like they had done all yesterday afternoon.

  Javan shook the canteen over Varjiek’s tongue, but no water came out. “Sorry, V,” Javan said. His own tongue felt like cardboard, and his saliva glands seemed to have stopped working. His shriveled lips made talking painful, and his parched throat made him sound hoarse. “It’s gone. Every drop is literally gone.”

  After losing their uxe leaves yesterday, Javan had rationed their only source of water as best he could. It had gotten them through the hot afternoon and evening, but they were both so drained by the time the sun went down that progress during the night had been minimal. Now they were facing another day of brutal heat with no water to carry them through.

  Javan sat down between Varjiek’s two front legs and took advantage of the shade Varjiek’s head provided. Varjiek, however, had no such relief from the heat. “How close do you think we are to Keckrick?”

  I am normally very good with direction, but I do not know anymore. My mind is jumbled, and I feel like everything is moving, even though I am laying still.

  “I’m dizzy and confused, too, and this throbbing headache keeps getting worse. We have to keep moving and find water.”

  Moving will exhaust us too much. We must conserve our energy and wait until nightfall.

  “What about food for you? Some of your scales are still golden from yesterday, so I know you didn’t get enough to eat. In a few hours, you’re going to be super starving.”

  I am not worried about food. I have a meal waiting to be eaten right here.

  “You do?” Javan looked around, saw nothing, then realized Varjiek was referring to him. He jumped up and backed away from the dragon. “Whoa! Wait a minute! You can’t eat me!”

  Varjiek chuckled. It is good to see you still have some fight left in you. Now sit back down and relax.

  Javan crossed his arms and stared at Varjiek. What if the dragon did become so hungry and disoriented that he decided Javan would make a good meal?

  I promise not to eat you, young Collector. Come and sit.

  “You better keep your promise.” Javan wiped the sweat from his brow and took a step back toward Varjiek. But a bright reflection to the west—like sun bouncing off water—caught his eye. “V, check it out. I see a lake!”

  Varjiek turned his head to look in the direction Javan pointed. I do not think you see what you think you see. All I see is an endless expanse of dirt.

  “No.” Javan shook his head and squinted. The reflection remained, and it was surrounded by fuzzy things that appeared to be trees. “I know what I see. That has to be water. It’s not that far away. We’re gonna survive after all!”

  It’s a mirage, Javan. You’re hallucinating. Come, sit, and
close your eyes.

  “That is not a mirage. It’s real.”

  Why can’t I see it?

  “Maybe you need glasses. Now get up. Let’s go.”

  It is not a good idea. If it is a mirage, we will die of thirst walking in this heat.

  “We have two options. We can curl up here and let the sun cook us to death, or we can head toward that water while we still have some life left in us. If it turns out to be a mirage, at least we died trying to do something.”

  All right. Varjiek rose to his feet. Let’s hope your illusion is real.

  ◊◊◊

  Bored, hot and unable to sleep, Micah climbed out of the cave at the southern end of Red Rock Canyon just before noon. Wolves howled in the distance, and Mertzer listlessly licked water out of a tiny stream several feet below him.

  The sand dunes loomed before Micah, mocking his progress. Micah had wanted to get past the dunes before sunrise, but Mertzer had not cooperated. No matter how hard Micah kicked and whipped the dragon, he refused to run through the desert and maintained a turtle-like pace all night long. Frustrated, Micah had decided to find shelter in the caves of the canyon while it was still dark and cool rather than risk being stuck in the dunes with no relief from the heat during the day.

  Even with his hat on, sweat began pouring into Micah’s eyes as he scanned the sand around him. He had memorized a map of the desert as a young child and could picture exactly where he was on the map. What the map hadn’t prepared him for, however, was the life-draining atmosphere. A breeze would probably help ease the burden of the hot sun, but the lack of wind made the air feel thick and sticky.

  He hated this place.

  What if Javan hadn’t traveled into the desert? What if those missing uxe leaves were a decoy meant to get Micah off track while Javan actually traveled to Dawn Stalker Territory? What if he was chasing no one in this wretched heat?

  As he took a swig of water, he noticed some strange patterns in the sand to his left. Since the black streaks didn’t appear to be that far away, and the hill didn’t appear to be all that high, he ventured away from the safety of the canyon and up the hill to investigate.

  He misjudged both the distance and the incline. The journey took him twice as long as he expected, and the climb required him to constantly hydrate in order to keep going. His canteen was thus empty by the time he reached the first streak.

  He didn’t mind. What he found would supply him with all the energy he needed to make it back to the canyon where he could replenish his water supply.

  He also no longer minded the lack of wind. The dry air had preserved the footprints and fire streaks of what appeared to be a battle between a fire-breathing dragon and a pack of wolves.

  Micah smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. Javan and Varjiek were traveling through the desert. That meant Micah was on the right track and couldn’t be too far behind them.

  He wanted to take off after them right now, especially since he knew no wind indicated a storm was brewing and could blow through at any time. But he knew it would be wiser to stay in the shade the canyon provided and wait until nightfall to travel.

  He also needed to make sure Mertzer would have something to eat come dusk. Judging by the amount of wolf footprints in the sand and all the howling he had heard while trying to sleep, food for Mertzer would be plentiful if they stayed put for the rest of the afternoon.

  As Micah headed back toward the canyon with his shirt soaked from sweat, he regretted drinking all the water he had brought with him.

  ◊◊◊

  The sun made Varjiek’s scales too hot to touch, so Javan had walked alongside his dragon all morning long. Varjiek had to adapt his stride to allow Javan to keep up with him, but he preferred the shorter stride to the added weight of a passenger. Now as noon approached, they both walked so slow that it felt like they weren’t making any progress at all.

  “There.” Javan attempted to point and speak, but he was too weak to do either. He could smell the grass and trees and water. He knew he was close. He knew what he saw was real and not a mirage. He just couldn’t make his legs go any further. As he tried to take one more step, he dropped to his knees. “Go, V. Go eat. Save yourself.”

  He hoped the dragon understood him even though he didn’t hear his own words pass through what used to be his lips. This is it, he thought as he fell the rest of the way to the ground. I’m going to die. But I got my dragon to water. He is going to live. I am a good Collector.

  With his face laying in the sand, he used what energy he had left to wave Varjiek onward with his left wrist. Then he blacked out, never expecting to wake up again.

  Until he did. And he was wet. Drenched. So covered in water he couldn’t breathe. He coughed. Breathed in water. Flailed his arms. Kicked his legs. Felt a muddy surface. Stood. Breathed in the air just above the water’s surface.

  “What just happened?” His throat still hurt from being so dry, but at least he could hear himself form actual words again. He licked his lips, took several more sips of the life-giving water and looked around.

  He found himself standing in a lake surrounded by palm trees and waist high grass, some of which had been trampled by a dragon dragging a body. His body. But he didn’t see his dragon anywhere.

  “V? Varjiek? Where are you, buddy?”

  The only answer he got came from an arrow that flew past his head.

  Javan dove back under the water, but that turned out to be a bad plan. He couldn’t hold his breath for more than a few seconds and was too drained from the desert walk to swim. So he did the only thing he could think of. He surrendered.

  As he resurfaced, he held his hands in the air and shouted as loud as he could, “Don’t shoot!”

  Men with loaded bows all aimed at him lined the shore. One in the middle spoke. “You are an intruder in our territory. Why shouldn’t we shoot?”

  “Ummm...valid question.” He cleared his scratchy throat and tried to think of something smart to say to avoid being shot to death with arrows. The sun seemed to have fried his brain, however, and he couldn’t form any coherent argument.

  “Answer or we shoot in five seconds.”

  “I’m not here to hurt anyone.” Javan needed some backup. Where was Varjiek?

  “Four.”

  “I’m just passing through from Zandador.” Maybe if he stalled long enough, his dragon would show up and defend him.

  “Three.”

  “All I want to do is get to Keckrick.” Javan’s heart raced. What if Varjiek had collapsed in the lake and drowned?

  “Two.”

  “How about I saw I’m sorry for bothering you and just move on?”

  “One.”

  Javan closed his eyes and braced for the assault, but before he heard any arrows zip through the air, Varjiek’s voice cut through the stillness.

  I can fly again! He burst up from under the water in the middle of the lake, wings spread, scales golden, breathing fire into the air. He flew several circles above the trees around the lake before coasting back down to hover over the water beside Javan.

  “If you shoot me,” Javan said, crossing his arms and staring at the leader, “my dragon is going to eat you. Your choice.”

  The leader lowered his bow, and the others did likewise. “I think we can find something a little less human for your dragon to eat. You look like you could use some food as well. Please. Come join me in my tent for the noon meal.”

  Javan wasn’t sure he should trust a guy who was willing to kill him ten seconds ago, but the thought of eating a real meal inside a cool tent was too tempting to resist.

  Chapter 15

  Closing In

  Within hours of sunset, Micah and Mertzer had tracked Varjiek’s trail over the dunes, across the flat, cracked earth and straight to a hollow tree. Tiny specs of something littered the ground, so Micah pulled his coat a little tighter and dismounted Mertzer to investigate the area.

  He picked up a handful of the specs and studied them in t
he moonlight. “Shredded uxe leaves. Odd.” He brushed the specs off his hands and poked his head inside the tree. A blanket that appeared to be a makeshift bed spread on the ground. “Javan was definitely here, but why did he leave his blanket behind? Nights out here get cold.”

  As Micah walked around, he noticed a set of dragon tracks and human tracks leading away from the tree. “Hey, Mertzer. Look at these footprints. It looks Varjiek ran away from here, and Javan followed him on foot. Why wasn’t he riding his dragon? And why am I talking to mine? It’s not like he can answer me.” Micah shook his head and hoped this desert trip wasn’t making him go crazy on top of feeling paranoid.

  At least he knew the source of his paranoia: the windless day and night. He liked the ease of being able to track Javan since no wind allowed all footsteps to remain etched in the sand. But the longer the wind ceased to blow, the stronger and longer the sandstorm would be once it finally hit. What made him jumpy was not knowing when the storm would come. If he and Mertzer got caught in such a storm in this flat area with no tree or rocks to protect them, surviving would be problematic.

  They could hide out under the tree and wait for the storm to pass, but they might be waiting for days for a storm that may never come. Besides, Micah had used up his store of patience while waiting for Karl in Madai. “No more waiting.” Micah hopped on Mertzer. “We go and hope we’re out of the desert before the storm strikes.”

  His hope was crushed about five minutes later when a gentle breeze ruffled his dreadlocks. One look to his left revealed a wall of sand headed straight for them. “Back to the tree, Mertzer! Back to the tree now!”

  Micah had just enough time to dive inside the tree before the storm reached them. And without being told, Mertzer used his body to cover the opening in the tree bark, keeping Micah safe inside the shelter.