Dragon's Cure: Dragon Courage, #4

Chapter 1: Tell us a story

Duskya had just finished washing the noon dishes and had put the kettle on for tea. She loved this time of day, when Cerulean would head back out to work with the new younglings, and she was free to relax. Although she had seen sixty-eight winters, her body still looked as if she had not seen a day over twenty-six. Her mind and her stamina were the same as the day she had helped her twin brother fight the turquoise dragon rider, Kyanos.

The kettle had started to hum when she heard the sound of children's voices. She had wondered who was out running around today. It was a true delight to see her grandchildren at her door.

Surprise, Grandma! two little towheaded children yelled.

Why, Mere and Glen, welcome. Come on in, Duskya said with pleasure as she held the door open. Where is your ma?

Glen turned around and pointed around the corner of the house.

Hi, Ma, Carryn called. Did we surprise you?

You did, Duskya said, giving her daughter a hug. Ruskya and your da would call me lazy. They think I should be more tuned in to what is around me.

You should, Ma, but I am glad that we were able to surprise you.

Come on in. I was just about to have a cup of tea, Duskya said. She caught the longing in her daughter's sense.

What is wrong, Carryn?

I’d love to stay, but I was wondering if you could watch the kids for a bit. I have an errand to run. Could we have that cup of tea when I get back? Then we could just sit and enjoy.

That sounds excellent. I can enjoy my grandchildren and my daughter.

Carryn smiled. Thanks, Ma. She impulsively gave her mother a hug. You're the best.

Duskya's heart was full. She still couldn't believe that her daughter had already seen thirty-eight winters. Where had the time gone? She could still remember the shock when Cerulean told her that Carryn could hear dragons and that Peri seemed to be a special one to her.

Ma? Carryn called.

I'm fine, she replied pulling herself back to the present. I was just remembering you as a little girl of five winters with curly hair and big eyes. You were so sincere when you told us about Peri.

Carryn laughed. Well, she is a special dragon—she's mine.

Duskya grinned.

Grandma, Mere called from inside the house, you said we could have tea. Come on.

Go on, Carryn. Enjoy your afternoon. I'll take care of these precious little ones.

Thanks. I won't be long. I want some of your tea.

Duskya watched her daughter walk down the path with her strong confident stride, and wondered at the mystery of fortune to have raised such a wonderful and beautiful daughter.

A little hand pulled on her own. Come on, Grandma, Glen said. Mere told me to get you. Will you give us tea and tell us a story?

She bent down to his level and tickled his tummy. You want a story?

He laughed, unable to talk, but Mere had rounded the corner and answered, Yeah, Grandma. Tell us a story! One ’bout riders and dragons.

Duskya looked them both in the eyes. Have I ever told you about the rider who didn't want to be a rider?

No! they both said in unison, their eyes wide in amazement.

Well, come have some tea, and I'll tell you.

They hurried inside. Duskya saw that Mere had already found the tin of tea and gotten it down. Even though she had only seen eight winters, she already had her great-grandmother's love of tea. Meredyth would have loved to know her namesake. A pang still filled Duskya's heart to think that her own ma was no longer living up in Woolpren. She had never met Mere, because she had died five winters before Mere was born.

A crash brought her back from remembering.

I’m sorry, Grandma, Glen said. I was just tryin’ to get the sugar down.

Duskya took in the mess, and realized she needed to bring her attention back to the present.

That’s okay, Glen, she told the youngling of five winters. Let me help you clean up.

With the help of the children, the cleanup went quickly. Duskya pulled out some cookies from the cupboard and placed them on a plate at the table. She put the teapot on the table, and sat as Mere brought the mugs over.

You said you would tell us the story about a rider who didn't want to be a rider, Mere prompted. Can you tell us now?"

Duskya smiled. That I can, honey.

She began to tell the tale.

Chapter 2: I hate him!

Serena worked her way through the fog that surrounded her head. A groan escaped her lips. Her legs hurt; her arms ached. Her ribs screamed at her. Come to think of it, every single part of her body hurt. She stretched and yearned to shield her ears from the noise. Belatedly, she realized it was her own voice screaming. She shut her mouth. Her eyes didn't seem to hurt as badly as the rest of her. She opened them to find herself on the floor of the cooking area, right where she had fallen. No—where he had left her.

Unfortunately, the memories started to return. Her father had come home early last night in one of his angry moods. How was she to know he would be home early? He had expected her to have his meal ready when he walked in the door. The words came then. Those didn't hurt; well, not as much. She could at least block them out. Try as she might, some of them still seeped through. Nasty words about her mother, who she barely remembered. Her mother, who had died to escape the pain her father had inflicted on them both.

The final blow came when she set the meal in front of him. It was not up to his standards. He threw it on the floor as he yelled at her, something about it being unfit for a man to eat.

If you were a man, she had screamed back, then you would have a job and bring home decent food to serve.

She didn't know how it had happened. One moment he was sitting at the table, and the next her face was looking at the opposite wall, the sound of the slap ringing in her ears. He probably would have stopped there, but something had snapped inside of her. When she spoke, her voice was cold and quiet.

A decent man would not strike a woman.

She saw the punch heading for her mid-section, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. As she doubled over, trying to get a breath of air, another blow hit her nose. She didn't doubt it was broken. At some point, she had passed out.

She ground her teeth together, trying to not scream as she moved her leg. Saying it hurt was an understatement. She looked down and found the explanation. The only usable chair was now unusable. It lay broken in pieces on the floor, its leg abandoned beside her. She decided to use what had been a weapon as a crutch. Slowly, she pulled herself up to a sitting position, and then to her knees, and finally up to the stove.

The stove was cold now. There wasn't enough wood to make a decent fire, let alone cook anything. She leaned against it, panting. The pain in her ribs reminded her to take shallow breaths. Looking around the room, she realized there was nothing left for her here. She would leave. She could find a place in the woods south of Boeskay. She could live out there. It might be cold, reason told her, but she answered it, Not any different than here.

Walking carefully, she moved to her room and gathered a few belongings. A blanket worked as a pack. Placing a couple changes of clothes inside it and a hairbrush, she set it over her shoulder and headed out. Walking out the door of the abode she had called home for the eighteen winters of her life, she didn't look back. She wasn't leaving much behind.

She didn't breathe easily until she was out of Boeskay. She had been afraid someone would find her and stop her, or worse, tell her father. Yet, nothing happened. She was free. If her leg weren’t so sore, she would have danced with joy. Instead, she just stared up into the blue sky and thanked fortune she was alive and not dead like her mother.

The thought of her mother didn't bring tears to her eyes. Instead, it brought with it hatred for her father. Her mother was dead because of him. If Serena had stayed, she too would be dead.

I hate him, she said quietly. Then more loudly, I hate him. I hate him. I hate him! Never again will I let anyone hurt me like that. Never!

With her vow, a calm came over her. She walked south, wondering where she would find a place to stay. The thought of the river came to her. Maybe it would be better than the forest. There might be caves there to protect her from the rain that would come with the summer storms. The caverns would also protect her from the lightening. She headed that way.

Serena had never been to the caves, but she knew most people stayed away from them. Some said strange creatures protected them. She didn't believe those stories, which seemed designed to scare children from wandering in the area and getting lost.

The caves were larger than Serena had expected, and she found that they meandered all along the riverbank.

At first, she stayed close to the outside edge. Since she didn't have many things with which to furnish her home, it didn't take much to set up house in a small cave. She found a stump to use as a chair, a larger hollowed stump for a table, a nice rock for a candleholder, and another rock that worked as a ledge for her hairbrush. Over the next few days, she created a comfortable home.

Her resolve to stay in the cavern almost gave out after the first two days, when she had no food and no way of starting a fire. She almost returned to the abode she had known all of her life, if only to get her father's flint and steel. Fortune shone upon her, though. She had started back to Boeskay when, beside the river, she found a fire had been built the night before. Some wanderer had used the spot for the night. Her fear of being discovered was driven away by the sight of a still smoldering stick. Picking it up gingerly, she shielded it from the breeze and took it back to her home where she lay it in the fire pit she had constructed.

That had been the turning point. From then on, she had scavenged for food near the river and never looked toward Boeskay. She was accustomed to going without food; so, here where she could find something to eat at least once a day, she grew stronger.

Chapter 3: Go away

As her stay grew longer, Serena started to explore her home. She used a charred stick for marking her way, knowing it would be suicide to get lost in the maze of caverns. Saving the grease from the fish she had caught and from small animals she snared, she created a torch of sorts. It helped light her way through the dark recesses of the caves.

It was in these explorations that she began to wonder about the stories she had heard of creatures that protected the caverns. She had never believed the stories before, but now that she lived there, she decided she should know for sure. As she explored, she would occasionally hear noises that made no sense. There were scratching noises as well as huffs and puffs. These noises didn't sound like any animals she knew. Then there was the whoosh of air leaving a small area with a lot of force. When she heard those sounds, she avoided those areas.

Now that she was exploring the caverns, she was decorating her bare stone walls by drawing a map of the caves. The map was extensive, as it included every place she had seen. Taking care not to miss a thing, she took her time filling it out. The places where she had heard strange noises were marked on her wall map, too. Each day, the map grew to encompass the area she had explored the day before.

One afternoon, she went exploring and found a passage that led her to the higher reaches of the caverns. She had not been this high up before. So far, there were no strange sounds to warn her away. After what seemed like ages, she came to what appeared to be a dead end. Disappointment filled her.

Why did I travel all this way for nothing? she asked herself.

Her voice echoed off the walls, loud in her ears. She shut her mouth. A current of air caught her hair and pushed it away from her face. She paused. Someplace, air was getting through. She held the torch up to see better. The air caught the torch, and it flickered. Looking closely, she found an opening. It was very small, but seemed to open up slightly. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed through the crack. The crack made an abrupt ninety-degree angle, and then opened into a large cavity.

The sight of the creatures before her took her breath away. Tons of dragons crowded the huge cavern. On second glance, she corrected herself.

There's not tons of them, and they aren’t full grown. These are babies! she whispered to herself.

About thirty baby dragons played, slept, and sat around the cave. They were various shades of blue, blue-green, and bluish-purple. A sensation of being watched filled Serena. She glanced around sharply, but no one was in sight. The baby dragons seemed to have missed her entrance. She watched for a few more moments, until the feeling intensified.

Glancing around more carefully this time, she found the culprit. A purplish baby dragon was staring at her. The dragon was slightly larger than the others in the cavern. He seemed to have an intelligent look on his face. No, she corrected herself—her face. For some unknown reason, she knew it was a baby girl.

She decided to mark that spot on her map. She had been surprised to see the dragons. Of course, she had seen riders in the market in Boeskay, but never had she seen their mounts. She had noticed dragons flying high above in the sky, as one would notice vultures or eagles flying. This was the first time she had seen them up close.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. If there are babies, there will be mothers. I'd better get out of here.

She turned to leave, but as she did, her eyes caught the purplish-blue eyes of the baby who was still watching her. There seemed to be intelligence in those eyes, almost a wisdom beyond their years. Serena shook her head and squeezed back through the crevice.

The next morning, she marked the spot on her map, and in the afternoon, she continued exploring, but with greater caution. She now knew what protected these caverns—dragons. For the next several days, she stayed lower down in her explorations, but several times, she felt as if someone were watching her. She looked around, but no one was there.

I'm going to go crazy if I stay here alone much longer, she told herself. It never bothered me before. I'd be alone days on end, happily.

She didn't want to think of the reasons why she enjoyed being alone so much. The fact was, the moment her father came home he would go into his rages and beat her. She blocked the thoughts from her mind. She had left that behind. Never again would she let someone treat her that way.

About seven days after finding the baby dragons, Serena again explored a little higher up than usual. She had felt that same tingling sensation that someone was watching her. No one was around, but the feeling became so intense that she turned back. All through the evening, the feeling was with her. She almost couldn't sleep for fear someone would come in during the night and hurt her, as her father had, but somewhere in the middle of the night, the feeling disappeared, and she slept.

The next morning, she ate breakfast and debated whether she should move from the cave. She decided to stay a bit longer. She picked up her charcoal stick, and began to mark her explorations from the day before.

After working well for quite some time, she noticed the feeling again. It had started slowly and grown until she was aware of it. Looking around expecting to see nothing, as she had so many times before, she jumped when her eyes came to the doorway to the rest of the caves. Staring at Serena with wonder in her eyes was the little purplish-blue dragon.

How did you get here? Serena exclaimed before realizing the animal couldn't talk back to her.

She turned back around and decided to ignore it, although the thought of its mother still nagged at her mind.

A soft girl's voice spoke, Don't worry about mother. She does not check up on me anymore. I am old enough to be on my own.

Serena spun around, expecting to find that a person had walked through the doorway. No one was there but the little dragon. Shaking her head, she went back to work.

I'm going crazy, she whispered to herself. I'm hearing things.

She worked in silence, but not peace, for a while more, before the voice spoke again.

What are you doing there? Is that the dragon crags?

Serena ignored the voice and continued to work. She must be going crazy. Only crazy people heard voices in their heads.

Well, aren't you going to answer me? the voice continued. I know you can hear me, because you think you are going crazy. I am not in your head; I am sitting over here looking at you. You looked right at me, so I know that you know I’m here. Please, just turn around and look at me. There was a pleading in the voice that Serena could not ignore.

Almost against her will, she turned away from the wall. She didn't know what she expected, but it certainly wasn't the same empty room. Well, empty except for a baby dragon sitting in the doorway.

Who are you? Serena almost yelled.

The baby dragon cringed; Serena didn't care. She was starting to get frightened. She had promised herself she would never again get into a situation where she was out of control. This didn't seem dangerous, but it was unknown. She had learned to fear the unknown.

Please, do not yell. I can hear you just fine, even if you don't speak out loud, the voice said.

Serena was tempted to ignore it; perhaps it would go away. She was in the process of turning around, when she caught the look in the little dragon's eyes. It was an intelligence beyond words, a knowing beyond its age; it was as if the dragon was speaking to her.

At the same time, the voice spoke again. Please, do not ignore me.

She stared into the eyes, trying to decide what to do. It was then that she really saw them. They were a deep bluish-purple, the color of the flowers on the bushes on the edges of town. She had always prided herself on reading people's eyes. Her father's eyes always warned her, before his actions or words did, that he was in a foul mood. These eyes were kind, not quite innocent, but not having lived a lifetime either. They were sharp eyes.

No, she said out loud, you are a dragon, the same as a vulture, a deer, or a rabbit. You cannot be talking.

There, you are wrong, the voice continued, and the eyes looked hurt. Dragons are intelligent beings that have feelings and thoughts. You need me, just as much as I need you.

No, that is not true! It isn’t! Serena said, completely ignoring the last comment. I do not need anyone. I am fine on my own. Just go away. Get out of here. Now, go away!

With a final piercing look, the dragon turned saying, I will leave for now, but I will be back.

Serena sighed in relief as the dragon disappeared from view. She was free from that creature. No, she couldn't say that. It had not harmed her. It was just so strange that it thought she needed it.

She went back to drawing, but her mind was still on the little dragon. Her purple eyes haunted the peace Serena had felt. After a moment, without real thought, Serena moved to a different spot on the wall and started to draw. She went through the first charred stick and moved on to another, and then another. When she was done, she stepped back and looked at what she had done. Where had that come from, she wondered. What stared back at her was a lifelike replica of the purple dragon.

Why did I do that? she muttered. Now it will haunt my waking hours as well as my sleep.

Yet, she did not have the heart to destroy her work, so it remained.

Several days passed without her seeing or hearing from the dragon. She avoided any passage that led upward or held even the faintest possibility of dragon sounds. The tingling sensation that she had noticed that first day remained, but she didn't seem to notice it. It had become a part of her.

One morning the tingling intensified. It did not surprise her, then, to look up and see the dragon standing in the doorway.

Hi, she greeted it, feeling awkward and foolish.

Hello, the girl's voice answered.

The dragon sounded surprised that Serena had even acknowledged her. Serena almost felt guilty for how she had treated it before—no, her.

Do you have a name? the dragon asked.

Serena stared at the little dragon, debating whether to answer the question. What right did this creature have to know her name?

What right do you have to know mine? the dragon replied.

Serena shook her head. It’s a bit disconcerting when you answer my unspoken questions.

I am sorry. I did not mean to cause you trouble. I am still new to this. I have only spoken with Cerulean.

Cerulean? Serena asked, as fear started to work its way up her spine.

He is the one who helps the nestlings and the hatchlings. He is like a father to us.

The picture of her own father came to Serena's mind, and she saw herself on the floor in her abode. She shivered. She never wanted to meet this man.

No! the dragon shrieked. "That is awful. Cerulean would never do that. Your father did that?"

Serena jumped as if she had been slapped.

Stay out of there! Vehemence made her voice sound like a snake’s. You will never do that again. Do you understand?

I am sorry. I-I, the baby dragon faltered. I am sorry.

Serena's breathing slowed. She was not in her father's abode. She was safe in the home she had created. She looked around. Her eyes landed on the dragon, and their eyes locked. No words were spoken, but the sorrow and the compassion that emanated from the dragon’s eyes was enough to melt Serena's heart a bit.

I’m sorry, she said. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. My name is Serena.

Serena, what a beautiful name! It fits you, somehow.

Hmph, I have never thought so. It means ‘peace.’ I have never had or known peace, until maybe here.

The dragon seemed to nod. My name is Mertenia.

Mertenia, Serena repeated. That’s pretty. I think it fits you, too, but I don't know why.

A soft crooning noise filled Serena's mind. She realized it was the dragon. She was happy.

Thank you. Do you mind if I stay with you today? Or are you going to send me away again?

Serena debated. Don't tell me I need you. And I don't want anyone to come looking for you, she shivered, thinking of the man named Cerulean.

He won't come looking for me. I don't know why you think he will harm you, as this other man has done. He will leave you be.

You said he is a father. That is what father's do. They punish their children for what they do wrong.

Mertenia seemed to shake her head, but Serena would hear nothing of it.

If you are going to remain, Serena went on, you will not argue with me on this.

Mertenia didn't agree, Serena could tell by the look in her eyes, but she didn't say anything further. Serena sighed; at least, it was a start.

What dragon is that? Mertenia ask with surprise.

Serena felt her face grow hot. Where? she asked, trying to hide her discomfort.

On the wall. You drew a dragon, but you said you had never seen one before. That is so lifelike. I almost expect it to come at me off of the wall or even to speak to me.

I haven't seen any other dragons, other than the babies in the cave where I first saw you. I drew this after I told you to leave. Her thought continued, although she did not speak it aloud, I did it to get you out of my mind.

Did it work? Mertenia asked quietly. Did you get me out of your mind?

Would you get out of my thoughts? Serena raised her voice.

The dragon looked quizzically at her. What do you mean?

Serena sighed, I do not like that you can come into my head and hear what I think.

But that is how I talk. I do not open my mouth, like you do. I hear and speak all conversation in my head. I didn't know there was a difference. I am sorry.

Serena raised an eyebrow. The thought of not having to speak out loud to communicate had never occurred to her before.

Really? she thought. You can hear me even if I am not speaking?

Of course, silly, Mertenia replied without any break in the conversation. It is how dragons speak, not only to their riders, but to everyone.

Serena sat on the floor, stunned. She didn't realize that she was sitting with her back to the drawing so that the baby dragon was watching over her shoulder.

I like that thought, Mertenia replied.

What thought? Serena asked, confused.

Me watching over you.

Serena snorted. A lot of good that will do me. You can't harm a flea!

A puff of smoke escaped the little dragon's nose. Never underestimate a dragon, Serena.

Her voice was low and appeared threatening. Serena almost believed her.

Have you never heard stories of dragons and the power they have?

"Of course, I've heard the tales, but how much of the tales are true, Mertenia? Usually, a tale grows in the telling. Besides, riders seem to be a