Stavius stepped out of the forest and cautiously walked a few yards into the clearing. The area was far neater than most dragon nests he had seen. There was a dense hedge of pine trees blocking the forest with wildflowers and even wild roses growing in the field. It would be a lovely place for a picnic, except for the dragon living in the large opening bored into the hill a few yards away, of course.
Stavius took a deep breath, steeled himself, and suddenly realized he had no idea how to get the dragon’s attention safely. After all, what do you say when unexpectedly calling on a dragon? He kicked himself for not attempting to figure out what to say in advance, and in the end, he just yelled, “Hey, Betel. Are you in there?”
He decided, in retrospect, that he probably should have tried a slightly friendlier approach when a dragon’s head suddenly emerged from the cave and spat a stream of fire directly at him without warning. Betel’s head was at least twice the size of Saiph’s, and Stavius barely had time to throw up a magical shield before the flames struck him.
Stavius dropped to one knee, crossed his arms, and raised his shield as soon as the dragon’s head appeared. He saw the flaming orange stream erupt out of Betel’s mouth but quickly closed his eyes and kept them clamped shut until the blast ended.
He felt the energy strike his barrier but, although it rumbled and shook his entire body, it didn’t burn him. He opened his eyes and was immediately thankful that he could, at least, do this crude type of magic. The ground was scorched in front and on either side of him. Flames were crackling on the bushes and plants surrounding him. In fact, he seemed to be standing in a V-shaped island of green in the center of a sizeable smoldering sea of soot.
“You idiot!” roared a deep voice in his mind. “Look at what you’ve done to my garden!”
“Wait! That wasn’t me,” thought Stavius. “You’re the one who blasted me with fire!”
“Yeah, and it should’ve vaporized you while leaving, at most, one small scorch mark on my lawn,” the dragon screamed in Stavius’ mind. “You’re the one who splattered it all over the place. Just look at my beautiful pines! Those took years to grow in and, oh my, you hit one of my precious maples! I was so looking forward to watching their leaves turn brilliant yellows and reds in a few weeks.”
“Well, their leaves are yellow and red right now,” offered Stavius.
“Ha, ha, ha,” said the dragon. “You do know that I could just come out and stomp on you, right? Why are you here disturbing me and how are you managing to speak to me at all?”
“The unicorns taught me how to speak through my mind and, as it happens, I’ve come to ask if you could help me recharge a couple of unicorn horns,” thought Stavius.
“Unicorns don’t usually part with their horns,” thought Betel. “They’re pretty attached to them if you know what I mean.”
“Well, they willingly gave me a couple they were no longer using,” said Stavius. “But that’s a long story, and I’m in a bit of a rush. Saiph said you might be able to help.”
“Saiph? Do I know a Saiph?” the dragon asked himself aloud. “Nope, that name doesn’t ring a bell. I’m afraid that I can’t help you.
“Oh no! My roses! You’ve torched my beautiful roses, you nasty boy! Is that why Saiph sent you? I can’t believe she’s still angry after all this time.”
“Hey! I didn’t roast your roses. That was all your doing,” answered Stavius. “And I thought you said you didn’t know Saiph.”
“Well, I don’t. I thought I did, but I was obviously mistaken. Saiph and I went on one date and then she was gone without so much as a goodbye.”
“Um, you do know that…”
“I mean, it was like, food, screwed, thank you dude, and she split. I thought we really connected. We had a great time. We fertilized and buried three eggs up in the hills. But then I make one little comment when we get back to her place and, boom, it’s all over.”
“You know, something might have come up that…”
“Oh, yeah, something came up all right, and his name is Ceres. He was her old boyfriend. She was always talking about how Ceres does this and Ceres does that, and Ceres never complains about my nest being messy. Honestly, though, it was a disaster area. She had rocks and tree trunks and half-eaten carcasses lying around. So, I told her it was a mess. It wasn’t a lie. I was being honest. Is that so wrong?”
“Um no, but…”
“You see, Saiph is gorgeous, and she knows it. She struts herself around waving that big tail of hers right and left and left and right. Oh man, I can’t resist a great tail. Do you know what I mean?”
“Actually, she’s not really my type, but…”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, but the truth is that she just isn’t into you. I mean, look at you, you’re puny and weak, and you’re not even a dragon. But you do have that battle magic thing, and she loves that kind of stuff. I’m telling you, though, she’ll always compare you to Ceres. You know she makes him sound so perfect that I don’t even think he’s real. Do you?”
“Betel, you’ve been living here all alone for a long, long time, haven’t you?” asked Stavius.
“Call me Juice,” thought the dragon. “but, yeah, I’ve been here for a few years. However, if you knew anything about dragons, you’d know that we’re solitary creatures. Besides, I could get a date any time I want. I’m happy just sitting here looking at my garden. Or, at least I was until you destroyed it!”
“Juice?” asked Stavius. “Really?”
“Yes! It’s a nickname I picked up as a kid,” answered Betel with indignation. “I think it sounds more exciting and dangerous than Betel. Don’t you agree?”
“Um, I’m just not going to go there, Juice,” answered Stavius, as he struggled not to laugh while saying it.
“You know, it’s funny, Juice,” Stavius said, hoping to change the subject. “But Saiph seems to think that she’s been locked in a cage for a hundred years.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, I’m the one trapped, not her. I remember starting my garden and planting those maple trees right after she left not more than five or ten years ago” said Betel.
“Do you mean those huge, hundred-year-old maple trees behind the pines?” asked Stavius in disbelief.
“Yes, those are the ones,” answered Betel. “I guess you’re right. Time does kind of slip by, doesn’t it? By the way, what do you mean locked in a cage?”
It took Stavius nearly an hour to explain Saiph’s situation to Juice and to make his request. The big dragon seemed to have the attention span of a gnat about everything other than his garden and his failed romance with Saiph. Stavius was continually guiding the conversation back on track and reminding Betel what they were discussing. Eventually, though, Betel agreed to let Stavius recharge his horns.
Betel led Stavius into his cave and showed him his nest. It was immaculate. Betel proudly explained how he blasted the entire interior every morning to incinerate any leaves, insects, or other unwanted materials which had blown or wandered inside before using his powerful breath to blow the ash out of his cave. He was extremely proud of his nest, and his now-ruined garden.
Dragons are experts at finding magical energy springs and build their nests on top of them. But dragons don’t merely absorb magical energy like most other creatures. They actually draw the power from the ground like a pump, causing it to flow over their nests. Dragons spend much of their time resting in their nests absorbing this energy. Betel had taken nesting to the next level.
Dragon nests can be constructed from sticks and branches, but dragons love shiny objects. Swords, gold, silver, and jewels are their preferred nesting materials. Betel’s nest, by comparison, was nothing less than a large circle of neatly-stacked dragon stones. He had, in effect, created a three-foot deep pool large enough for him to soak. The dragon stones emanated a warm, red glow and, while Stavius could not actually see the magical energy, the atmosphere inside the pool was shimmering like heat off of a hot road in summer.
; “Go ahead and drop them in,” said Betel. “They should be fully recharged within a few hours. Can I offer you something to eat?”
Stavius was famished, but he doubted he would want anything Betel had to offer and did not want to offend his host. Spending several hours socializing with this crazy dragon when he needed to get back was going to be pure torture.
“No, I’m good, but you go right ahead.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Betel has he pulled out a half-eaten sheep which had been discreetly stored behind a large rock. “I am such a slave to my afternoon snack time. Tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?”
The sun was hanging low in the sky when Betel determined that the horns were fully charged. Stavius knew that he would not make it to the bridge before it closed at dusk.
“Soups up!” Betel cheerfully sang as he withdrew them from the pool. “Oh, these are simply gorgeous! Do you think I could have one?” he asked with a disturbing amount of envy.
He was right about how they looked. They had been glowing beautiful dark red and orange hues when Queen Esthara had gifted them to the boys but had quickly become a dull, grayish, tannish bone color after being drained. Now, however, they were spectacular. One was a deep blue with thin lines of yellow and red spiraling from its base to its point. The other emitted a rainbow of colors which shifted and swirled as Stavius turned it in his hand. Both sparkled while tiny, white pinpoints of light occasionally floated off like motes of dust or snowflakes.
Betel only agreed to part with them after Stavius convinced him that both horns were needed to free Saiph. He was apparently unhappy about letting the boy leave with these wonderfully sparkly things. Stavius asked if Betel would give him a ride part way to the city, but the dragon refused as he sulked in his pool. Stavius quickly said his goodbyes and left before Betel could change his mind about the horns. It was late, and it was going to be a long walk back.
Night had fallen by the time Stavius reached the cotton fields, so he walked to Clothton instead of to the bridge. He hadn’t eaten all day but, while the large dinner he ate at a small roadside restaurant filled his belly, it did not improve his mood. Tomorrow was going to be a big day, and he was going to arrive with little time to spare. He was relieved to have the horns and hoped his friend had also been successful with his preparations.
Stavius wiped his mouth, paid his bill, and left the restaurant. Tonight, he would sleep under the stars in the cotton field. Tomorrow night he would be sleeping in his own bed if all went well.
CLARICHA’S SHED, MEARTH
Janus smiled as he looked at the six wooden staves he had found while rummaging through the shed. These might be lousy accommodations, but the contents were proving to be useful.
Stavius was off on a quest to recharge the unicorn horns. They had argued about it, but Stavius was insistent upon going. He had been bossier over the past few weeks, which Janus found annoying. Sure, he was older, but Janus was a much more powerful magician and, to be frank, Janus felt he was also smarter than Stavius. Losing an argument to Stavius made him angry, but today he also felt lonely.
Loneliness was an unusual emotion for Janus. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Janus had spent his entire life as an outsider with few friends and was used to the constant, low-level, dull ache of loneliness, but it wasn’t an emotion demanding attention. He suddenly realized that the new form of it he felt was related to missing someone. He missed Stavius, and he couldn’t remember feeling that way ever before. Janus shook these thoughts out of his head. He had a lot to do today and had no time to sit and feel sorry for himself.
He spent the entire morning at Admian castle, learning its layout and studying the Spear of Mars. He never spent more than twenty minutes at a time in the castle before leaving, illuding himself with a different appearance, and returning as someone else. By lunchtime, he had bought a brochure with high-quality images of all the talismans, memorized every detail of the Spear of Mars, and mentally noted the faces of several kids who were playing outside. He illuded himself to look like a festival promoter and told them to meet him in the castle courtyard tomorrow morning if they wanted to be a secret, surprise part of the festivities. They weren’t sure at first but agreed after he promised them six spectacular gifts if they played their roles well.
He then had a quick lunch and went back to the shed to create his props. He needed to transform those six staves into six copies of the Spear of Mars nearly indistinguishable from the original. He began by enhancing a wooden stave to look and feel like dragon stone. He then overlaid an exact image of the real spear on top of it. Illusions were usually the last step in magical transformations, but Janus needed the spears to feel and look real. He then carefully etched each illuded bump, groove and carving into the staff to exactly match the illusion, and enchanted the spear to vibrate slightly along with a secondary illusion of a crackling magical glow.
Creating all six copies took several hours, and it was past dinner time before he was done. Janus realized how hungry, drained and exhausted he was as he leaned the last spear along the wall. They looked spectacular, but there was one final task needed to get them ready. He raised his hands and concentrated with all his mental and magical strength. The row of full-size replica spears shrunk to less than one foot in length and now looked like beautiful and expensive souvenirs rather than forgeries. Small souvenirs would be much easier to carry discreetly.
Janus stuffed the six small spears into a sack and tucked it behind a barrel. The boy was prepared for tomorrow and ready for dinner. He wondered whether Stavius had succeeded in recharging the horns but decided he was too hungry to wait for him. However, his anxiousness became a genuine concern after dinner when he realized that Stavius wasn’t going to make it home that night.
Janus eventually went to bed but suffered through another night of fitful sleep. He was mad at Stavius again for insisting on trying to recharge the horns. He was anxious about their plans working because that stubborn man didn’t return as he promised and they had not made any plans for alternative meeting places. But his annoyance turned to fear for his friend as the night wore on. Walking up to a wild dragon’s lair was foolish and dangerous, even though Stavius claimed to be an expert dragon hunter. What if he wasn’t coming back in time? What if he couldn’t come back at all?
Chapter 21
Hosts
SEPTEMBER 17, EARTH
I slammed the refrigerator door shut with an utterly unsatisfying thud.
“Perfect,” I cried to no one as I leaned on the kitchen counter.
I woke up Thursday morning here on Earth after falling asleep in the cotton field outside of Clothton as it started to drizzle. I had failed to get back across the river on Mearth before the bridge closed and had no idea of how to contact Janus. And, now, things were going just as poorly here on Earth.
“Perfect,” I repeated, under my breath.
I hadn’t been able to talk to my friends about Mearth since I woke up, and I was desperate to fill them in to get their advice. There was, of course, no way to tell them about everything that had happened since leaving Equous during the school day on Thursday and I had to come straight home after school let out.
I had a major history test on Friday, and my parents had academically grounded me until it was over. Academic grounding was what Dad called making me stay home and study with no distractions because I am failing history. I wasn’t even allowed to make a phone call! Dad didn’t seem to understand that there are more important things in my life than eighth-grade history, but how could I explain a magical dream world to a grownup?
Living through another day of school with all this Mearth news trapped inside of me was pure torture. Janus and I were on the cusp of accomplishing our quest, or at least the first part of it, and I couldn’t tell anyone! I just have to talk to my friends before I go to sleep again and, possibly, wake up on Mearth.
I somehow made it through school on Friday but had to stay after while Mr. Narwani graded my t
est.
I passed, which was good, but now I’m worried that Dad will think that it was because of the academic grounding. It probably was, but I don’t want to be grounded before every history test.
Mr. Narwani offered to give me ride over to Math and Science Club at his house, so I called Mom to ask if it was OK. Not only did she agree, but she was also so happy that I’d passed that she said I could have the guys over for a Wizard Spelz game sleepover tonight. I thought things were finally looking up, but it didn’t last.
“You don’t like studying history very much, do you, Mr. Panagopoulos?” asked Mr. Narwani on the ride to Math and Science Club.
“No,” I admitted. “It’s all just about memorizing dates, names, and places. I know it’s important to learn from the past and all. The problem is that history is just so dull.
“No offense,” I added when I realized I was talking about the subject he taught for a living.
“No offense taken,” answered Mr. Narwani, with a sigh. “I concur with your assessment of high school history. History is really about learning connections and understanding relationships, but that is difficult to assess, and high school classes are all about evaluation.
“Understanding and interpretation are far harder to measure than simple facts, and it becomes impossible when you’re trying to teach over a hundred students across five classes. The sad truth is that all these tests only measure whether or not you read the book and paid attention in class. The true goal of history teachers is to try to open your eyes to the connections, but we know that most of you are ignoring that and jotting down the facts you’ll need to regurgitate on our tests.”
Stavius Page 24
