Chapter 12

Dragons, Gwendolyn learned, healed incredibly fast. Two weeks passed between when she removed the arrows from his broken wing and when the injuries had completely smoothed over. On the new skin, there were no marks, no scars, no indication whatsoever that the wing had ever been injured.

For those two weeks, Yarrahm had hunted, first mice, then when he seemed well enough to leave the cave, rabbits. For the first few days, he didn’t share with Gwendolyn or Marelon, but after Gwendolyn made a show of giving him cheese a few times, he started enthusiastically trying to get her to eat raw, dead, animal bits. After a few unsuccessful attempts at that, he started learning that she liked her food cooked, and would enthusiastically roast bits and pieces for her before using his snout to push them along to her to eat.

One day, he dragged back a whole elk. He and Marelon were thick as thieves, and Marelon seemed to show him some ground hunting techniques, to help Yarrahm while he couldn’t take to the sky.

One morning, Gwendolyn awoke to Yarrahm gently nuzzling her.

“Good morning,” she muttered, sitting up. He seemed excited when she did so, and he began nudging her. She had long since moved her little camp into the interior of the cavern, and he was eagerly prodding her toward the little tunnel toward the entrance. Marelon sat nearby, also intently watching her.

“What is it?” She asked, rubbing his snout fondly.

He seemed to want her to get up, so she stretched and stood, following the excited dragon, who she could have sworn had gotten even bigger in the last two weeks, toward the entrance to the cave.

She emerged into the soft morning light to find Marelon zooming across the grass. Yarrahm stood expectantly, and as she stood at the entrance to the cave, he made a noise that sounded almost like a purr. Then, without warning, he spread his wings and jumped into the air, gave a slightly awkward flap of his wings, clearly getting used to the movement again, and he was flying.

“Oh, Yarrahm, good job,” she cheered as he circled the little clearing, lazily. “Oh, I’m so happy for you,” she said as he landed back in front of her.

He snorted, a little puff of air blowing her hair back. He used one large eye to stare directly at her, before taking off again and completing another lazy, low-flying loop around the clearing, landing directly in front of her a second time.

“Ohhh,” she breathed a low sigh, realizing what he was trying to tell her. “It’s time for you to get going, isn’t it? Head back to wherever pretty baby dragons live?”

This time, he stared at her in a way that somehow, subconsciously, confirmed her thought. “Of course. And it’s time for me to get going too. After all, I have a long way to go.” She turned to Marelon and said, “isn’t that right, Marelon? Come on, let’s go. We have to pack.”

She turned her back to Yarrahm, hoping that he wouldn’t see the sadness in her face. She knew he needed to go, and so did she. But she would miss him.

She slunk back into the cave, a distinct droopiness to her shoulders. Marelon followed behind her chirping happily, apparently oblivious to the fact that they would soon have to leave their newfound friend.

She didn’t have many belongings. She simply stuffed the cloak she had been sleeping under and the jarred vegetables she had eaten a bit of the night before back into her bag. She searched the bag a little bit, making sure that her knives and clothes were still there, that the little jar of honey wasn’t leaking, and that she had both her waterskins. In the side pocket, she confirmed that her money purse was still there, the somewhat depleted smoked meats and cheeses were still there too. Rolled into the last pocket, she had her map, the compass, and the cloth napkins from the tavern.

She looked around the cavern to say goodbye to the little home she had made, and as she walked out, her foot kicked the little stone bowl that Yarrahm had fashioned for her.

With a little smile, she picked that up too and stuffed it into the bag.

Marlon was sitting by the entrance to the tunnel, watching her pack. He stood when she approached.

She clicked her tongue at him. “Come on, stupid cat,” she said with a laugh. But he didn’t follow. Instead he let out a little whine, high pitched and pleading.

“Marelon,” she said. “Come on, we have to go.” Instead, the cat sat back down. He stared unblinking at her.

“Fine, but you aren’t going to like this. Or maybe you will, lazy-bones.” She crossed back to where he had sat in two large strides and scooped him up into her arms.

“Is this what you want? Hmmm?” She stared into his angelic little face, and he simply purred back. “Of course, it is,” she added.

Sitting down, she slung the rucksack back onto the ground in front of him and nestled him into her rucksack. He started purring louder, using his claws to knead at the cloth.

Shaking her head, she stood, preparing to leave. At the entrance to the cavern, standing at the mouth of the tunnel, she waved goodbye to the little space she had grown to love.

But to her surprise, she saw that at the entrance to the cave, where it opened into the clearing, stood Yarrahm. He seemed to be waiting for her, and he perked up when he saw her. He huffed excitedly when he saw her and stood. Out in the openness of the clearing it became more obvious that he was the largest creature she had ever seen, not just bigger than the three or four wyverns she’d seen from a distance, but even larger than the bear that she had once stumbled on fishing by the river.

Standing at full height, not hunched over to fit inside the little cavern, he was impressive. Still clearly a juvenile dragon, but she could barely imagine what a full grown one would look like.

“Did you wait for me to say goodbye?” She asked. “Thank you, Yarrahm.” She moved toward him, her arm outstretched, for one last pat onto his nose.

“Marelon decided he was lazy so he’s already—” Her sentence was cut off by a sudden, strangled scream that she wasn’t even conscious of making. Yarrahm had taken off suddenly, and without warning scooped Gwendolyn into his claws.

She screamed as she was lifted into the sky, the trees receding until they were like tiny pinpricks below her.

“Yarrahm, put me down! Yarrahm, please! Put me down,” But the dragon didn’t slow, his body rising and falling slightly with each beat of his wings. His movements were getting easier as he seemed to adjust to the new freedom of movement. Even as Gwendolyn squirmed and struggled, she realized she was totally secure. Each claw was the full size of her torso alone, and with both of them together, the majority of her body was safely ensconced in the large creature’s massive paws. She could tell that his claws were loose enough that Marelon wasn’t squished, and she felt him shift slightly in her rucksack. Looking below, she realized they’d already reached the edges of The Floating Valley, and she could see the massive cliffs that she had always heard about as they went soaring above them. From so far above, she could see that they did indeed surround the entirety of The Floating Valley. She could see the Valley River, winding along and cascading off the cliffs in a massive waterfall that looked like it sprayed mist for miles.

“This is incredible,” whispered Gwendolyn to herself. It seemed like each beat of Yarrahm’s massive wings, they could span miles of ground. And each beat of his wings seemed to bring new scenery unfolding below her.

Without realizing it, as seconds passed to minutes and Yarrahm went on, Gwendolyn found herself relaxing. She got lost in her thoughts, in the scenery, and in her half-dazed belief that this was a very odd dream. Here and there, she saw thatched roofs and little villages. The dark, piney forests below her faded into perky green fields, dotted with colorful little spots that looked like flower bushes, but were barely visible from her height.

Running perpendicular to Yarrahm’s path was a wide, beautiful river, bigger than any she had seen before. The fields around it became a pretty wheat yellow color, and the trees had lighter and lighter leaves, some appearing almost white.

And then suddenly, out of nowhere, she saw that the buildings began to clump together, more and more numerous. Then, a red line that she could barely discern was brick appeared in her line of vision, and Yarrahm flapped closer and closer, clearly making directly for the city. In the center, an enormous palace rose far above the other buildings.

From above, the city was still the most impressive and intimidating thing that Gwendolyn had ever seen. In Bartet, there had been perhaps four buildings with more than two stories, and the palace rising from the center of this massive city appeared to have at least five, plus large turrets. One central turret stood in a courtyard and it rose even above the others, wider and thicker as well. Though most of the city was made of the red brick that made up the walls surrounding it, or thatch and wood, the palace was made of some grey, shimmering stone she’d never seen before. The tallest tower, like a beacon, was made of a matte black stone. It looked newer, but perhaps only because it was more imposing.

Without warning, Yarrahm began a barrel dive toward the tower, and she realized it was their destination. Before she could blink, she felt a shuttering sensation hit her bones as Yarrahm’s back feet collided with the dark, black stone. Still reared up on his hind legs, he placed Gwendolyn on her feet before him so gently she was shocked. He backed up and she heard a gentle clinking sound as his claws hit the floor.

“I—” She started to turn toward the dragon, but she was cut off by the sound of a door slamming open and heavy, armored footfalls running toward her. A second later, she heard a stern voice call out from behind her as the footfalls got closer.

“Freeze,” it said, deep, intimidating, and utterly commanding. “By order of the Maitala family and His Royal Highness King Arelon, you are under arrest.”