Authors: Larry Kollar
Bailar nodded. “Your good heart has protected you from the wrath of the ice dragon, so far. Whether it can protect you from the world at large, I know not. I believe I know what you must do, though.” But he only stood, leaning slightly against the doorway, and watched Mik.
Mik looked back at the sorcerer. “Well?” he said at last. “What do I need to do?”
Bailar smiled. “You yourself have told me the answer.” He held up a placating hand. “I do not speak in riddles to confuse or torment you, young dragonrider. I want you to come to the understanding on your own, if you can. Thinking is both blessing and curse, but to a sorcerer it is survival. So think about what you did to awaken the dragon, and consider the Principle of Closure.”
Mik nodded and stared at the fire, feeling the gazes of the sorcerer and his apprentice upon him. “I used my blood to awaken the dragon…” He grew silent for a moment, thinking about the dragon demanding to be dispelled, then seeing those faint pinkish spots as he mounted—he shook himself and jumped up, whirling to face them. “I know!”
They stepped outside into the swirling snow, and the dragon raised its head.
You have learned how to dispel me?
“Yes. Will you meet us at the river, below this place?”
I will wait for you there
, and the dragon leaped over the edge of the bluff. Bailar led Mik and Sura along a path, seen only by the lack of trees in the way, down the bluff to the river.
As they went, Mik noticed Sura hugging herself and making
fff fff
noises. He wondered for a moment why the sorcerer had not provided them with warmth or rapid transport down the bluff, then remembered
Principle of Necessity
. “Here,” he said, taking off his cloak and wrapping it around Sura’s shoulders.
“Don’t you need it?” she asked, but pulled it tight around her.
Mik shook his head. “It helped when I was on the dragon, but my jacket is enough for walking. You need this more than I do.”
She took his arm, and took her time letting go, warming Mik more than the cloak. “Thank you,” she said. He grinned as they followed Bailar side by side. It was a slow walk; Bailar kept to one side of the path, probing the snow ahead with his staff and holding trees or sturdy limbs. “His balance isn’t good,” she whispered, nodding ahead to her father and mentor. “If he trips, he’ll fall.”
The dragon had not curled up to await them, it instead had stomped out a wide flat area and stood waiting.
If it were human
, Mik thought
, I’d think it was nervous. Or eager
. “You’ll want to be on the river ice, right?” he asked it. “Will you return to the size you were when I awakened you?”
Yes. And yes
. But the dragon curled up, becoming a mound of snow on the flat… then emerged, its original size, from the bottom of the mound. It tested the edge of the river ice then lay on it, stretching on its side, appearing satisfied. The big pink spots were now seven small red spots, Mik’s blood.
Mik made his careful way to the edge, then removed his gloves. “And… and thank you for your help. And everything.”
Dispelling me is thanks enough
, it said, as Mik placed his hands over the red spots.
But hold to your humility and gratitude. They will serve you well.
Mik nodded, feeling his hands grow numb, then wiped the melted snow away. And with his blood removed, the dragon sank into the river ice, becoming a pattern of bones once again.
“Well done, young dragonrider,” Bailar smiled as Mik rubbed his hands together than jammed them inside his jacket. He noticed Sura nodding and smiling as well, wrapped in his cloak, and their approval warmed him.
Yet he remembered his manners. “Thank you, sir.” He sketched a bow, then snatched his gloves out of the snow and put them on again.
Bailar nodded. “You traveled a long way for my advice, and now you have dispelled your transport,” he said. “Did you give any thought to how you would return home?”
Mik shrugged. “I did what I had to. I suppose I shall find a room in Exidy until spring. One where they will let me work for my bread and board.”
“You have no apprenticeship to consider?”
“No, sir. In Lacota—my town—I would have been chosen at the equinox.”
“Well, then. There is no law that says I cannot have two apprentices, and you have proven yourself worthy. Sorcerers are becoming rare in these ‘enlightened’ times, and sometimes the world still has need of us. We can send word to your family, perhaps visit them when time and weather permit. What say you?”
Bailar let fly a snowy owl, carrying Mik’s message and request for the cake recipe, then they all retreated to the warmth of the common room. Sura stood in front of the fire, spreading Mik’s cloak wide to catch and trap the heat, as Mik finished warming his hands on a full teacup. But the walk up the bluff had kept them near warm enough, and Sura soon shed the cloak and sat on a bench.
“Your training starts in the morning, Mik Dragonrider,” said Bailar. “I will enter your name in the records tonight. Get some sleep, you’ll be up early tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” but Bailar had already left. Mik watched Sura watch the fire, then pulled a bench next to hers and sat.
“What will it be like?” he asked her.
“Like school,” she said. “You’ll be studying, and practicing, and… well, you’ll see.”
Mik laughed. “Was it really just this morning? Robi said next month, we’d be done with school forever.”
“Who’s Robi?” Sura looked apprehensive.
“Oh. She and her boyfriend are my best friends. She was there when I awakened the dragon. Piet wouldn’t believe us, until he saw it himself.”
They laughed, then looked at each other. Her eyes shone in the firelight… or was it firelight? Without thinking, Mik reached out and put an arm around her. Sura slid against him, and they watched the fire together.
“I was right,” he said.
“What?”
Mik grinned. “There
are
other kinds of magic.”
Chapter 2 - Dragon Rider
Sura glowed. Mik’s mind knew it was sunlight angling through the trees, only beginning their springtime awakening, but his heart agreed with his eyes. His love and fellow apprentice twirled in the sunbeam, humming an odd tune, until she stumbled and fell. Mik cried out and ran to her, kneeling in the cool leaves.
“I’m all right,” she said. “I just got dizzy.”
“Where did you learn that dance?”
“A troupe from the Northern Reach came downriver last summer. They danced and played music in town. Some of the women did this dance, but they had long ribbons that wrapped around them as they turned. I don’t know how they did it without falling down!”
Mik smiled. “Are you sure you’re all right?” She nodded. “Good.” He embraced her, she embraced him, and nothing more was said for several minutes.
At last, Sura nudged him. “We can’t be too long,” she whispered. “We need to gather the herbs.”
Mik sighed, but knew she was right. He stood and helped her to her feet, although she needed no help, and they began walking. “What are we looking for again? I was only half-paying attention.” The woods were quiet. Patches of snow stood in shaded places and there was still a nip in the air.
“You need to focus.”
“I know. But it was hard, knowing we’d be out here by ourselves!”
“Remember what Father said? Focus on the primary goal, and the rest will come.” Sura laughed and produced the list. “We probably won’t find all of them right away, but these are what we need.”
Mik looked at the list, written in Sura’s clear, compact hand, and pointed at one of the items. “Kingsalve? That’s a healing plant, right?”
“It has magical properties, too.”
“Oh. Right. I’ve been studying herbs so much, it all runs together after a while.”
Sura took his hand. “I guess Father wanted you to be ready for spring. The first plants to come up in spring are the strongest—”
“I remember: because they have the powers of all four elements.”
“See?” She squeezed his hand. “You remember some of it, anyway.”
“Isn’t that flameweed?” Mik pointed at a patch of bright red, off to one side. “We call it ‘poor man’s pepper’ at home, but everybody uses it in spring until the traders come. It’s coming up a little early this year.”
“You can use it for pepper?” Sura grinned. “That’s good to know. We’re almost out of pepper too. I’ve had to stretch our supply, because we only bought enough for two in the fall. But this is coming up at the normal time.”
“Then spring comes a little earlier here than in Lacota.” Mik crouched in front of the bright red plants.
“Is there anything you have to do with it?”
“Let it dry in a sunny window, then you can crumble it up and use it like pepper. How much do we need?”
“Fill a pouch. It’s on our list. Flameweed is good for fire magic, too.”
“I—hoy!” Mik flinched, and Sura heard a chittering noise. He spoke softly. “Sura… come and see. But slow.”
Sura knelt next to Mik, and gasped. Something that looked like a tiny dragon poked its head over the flameweed, chittering and hissing at them. Its head and long neck were as red as the plants, but its body was streaked with gold. Its underbelly, what they could see of it, was the blue of the sky.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“I don’t know. But I think it’s hurt.” Mik stretched a careful hand toward the creature, ready to jerk away. The thing stood its ground, chittering again. “It’s all right. We won’t hurt you.” He laid his hand, palm down, in front of it. “We just want to see you.”
It sniffed, chirped, and climbed aboard. Mik winced at the pricking of tiny, sharp claws, but let it get a secure perch before lifting his hand slowly.
“It looks just like a dragon!” Sura breathed. “But it’s so tiny!”
“Is it a dragon?”
“I don’t know. The only dragon I’ve ever seen was the ice dragon that you rode here.” Sura laughed at the memory. “But Father will know.”
“It’s hurt, all right.” Mik watched it spread its wings, revealing a body no larger than his thumb. One of its wings was twisted and torn. “Maybe it can sit on my shoulder while we find the rest of the herbs.”
Perhaps understanding, it clambered up Mik’s sleeve to his shoulder. It climbed into his jacket collar and nestled against Mik’s neck, and he snorted. “That tickles!”
“Indeed,” said Bailar, exchanging wary looks with the tiny creature on Mik’s shoulder. “It’s a dragon. A Desert Dwarf, if my memory serves. I’ve never heard of one coming this far west, or north. Let alone at this time of year.”
“Where do they come from?”
“A vast desert in the East, called the
Ahm a’droog
by the natives of the region. That translates rather literally to ‘The Godforsaken.’ How it survived the cold, or how it was hurt? That I don’t know.”
“Can we help it, then?”
“Certainly, Mik. But know this—dragons have their own agenda. They are no one’s pet. It likely befriended you because you were there in its extremity. Yet it is never wrong to aid a creature that offers no violence.” His mentor smiled. “I named you Mik Dragonrider, since you came seeking my aid on the back of an ice dragon. But now, your name has a double meaning—you yourself have a dragon rider.”
Bailar turned away, and Sura took Mik’s hand. “Come inside now,” said the mentor. “It needs warmth above all else. It will likely sleep by—or perhaps in—the fireplace until it’s healed.”
• • •
The tiny dragon chittered at Mik and Sura from its place on the common room hearth, as its humans brought in their breakfast. As always, Bailar followed them with careful steps, using his staff to keep his balance. He sat as his apprentices set out dishes and covered pots. Finally, as Mik spooned eggs and sausages into their mentor’s bowl, Sura reached down.
“Are you ready for breakfast too?” she asked the dragon. It chirped and hopped into her palm, and let her carry it to the table. A pinned strip of cloth held its injured wing against its body. A week ago, Mik had set the tiny bone under Bailar’s instruction, as it lay in magical sleep, while Sura applied a healing ointment to the torn skin. By the next day, the dragon stopped worrying at the bandage. Sura set it between her plate and Mik’s, where it could steal a piece of egg or meat from either side.
“Mik,” said Bailar, “have you learned anything new from that book of dragon lore?”
“Yes, sir. Lesser Dragons, like the Desert Dwarf, heal rapidly.” Mik winced at his tone; it sounded to him as if he were reciting a school lesson. “We should be able to unwrap the bandage in another week.”
“If only we could heal our own broken bones that quickly.” Bailar smirked and forked up a sausage. “His appetite seems to be improving.” As he spoke, the dragon crouched then struck like a snake, snatching a piece of egg from the edge of Sura’s plate. They all watched as it held the morsel in its tiny front claws and nibbled at it like a mouse. “Strikes like a hunter, eats at the ready like prey,” he said. “That suggests it can be both at any moment.”
“The chapter about Desert Dwarves was interesting,” said Mik. “They steal eggs from nests, and eat insects. Carrion, if they’re hungry enough.” The dragon paused to listen. “Hawks and sandcats will eat them. Eastern folk say they house the spirits of men who died in The Godforsaken.”
Bailar cocked an eye. “Odd.”
“Not women?” Sura gave Mik a gentle poke, and the dragon chirped.
“I don’t know!” he sputtered. “I’m just repeating what the book said! Maybe women are smart enough to stay out of that place or something.”
Bailar laughed. “Always the diplomat, Mik!”
• • •
After breakfast, Bailar went to his chambers, but soon returned. “If I read the banners across the river correctly,” he told his apprentices, “the barges brought in fruit. Oranges from the Archipelago, I hope. Go and see. Sura, you know what a fair price is. If you know of anything else we need, purchase it as well.”
A few minutes later, Mik and Sura made their careful way down the steep path to the river. Sura watched Mik below her, uncoiling the knotted rope they used for safety and help on the way back up. “I’m so glad you’re here now,” she said. “I used to have to pull the canoe upriver so I wouldn’t miss the landing! Two of us can just paddle across.”