SINGED
Chapter 15

“Miranda,” I whispered.

She stood before me in a gossamer dress, stars shining on its shimmering skirts, and about her head, like a shining crown. The ocean roared and whispered below, and the ever-present breeze toyed with her hair.

It was dusk as it always was when she came, and the twin moons filled the heavens with silvery light.

“I knew you would come,” I said, “but why did you leave me? Do I mean so little?”

Her face was veiled in shadows, but I could see her faint smile, head cocked to the side. It was a question.

“Please tell me,” I said.

“I did not leave you,” she replied softly, “and I never will. I will always be with you.”

She was standing on the edge of the rocky protrusion and far below the ocean boomed and hissed like a great watery dragon.

“It makes no sense,” I pleaded.

“It will,” she promised. “I will return”

Then she turned, stepping from the cliff.

“No!” I screamed, running to the edge.

In my haste, I nearly fell, teetering on the brink above the drink. There was no sign of her, but far below, soaring out, was a sea hawk. It cried once, shrill as a pipe, above the rumbling tympani of the deep.

“No,” I whispered as I woke rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“They will be waiting,” Sal said out of the darkness.

“Let them wait,” I replied.

“They found his trail,” Sal said.

“Good,” I said, “then let’s go.”

We met Gribnor and a new contingent of his warriors by the mysterious shining portals in the cave.

“We go to Chagrak,” Gribnor growled without being prompted.

“The leader of the nethergrim near Lindor,” I said.

Gribnor grunted.

“So, we follow him,” I commanded.

Gribnor shrugged.

“Chagrak serves Dragon too,” he said. “We no fight.”

I frowned, confused.

“Good then he will help us.”

Gribnor shook his head.

“If go uninvited, we fight. Him ally but would be rude. He fights to prove strength.”

“Then we fight,” I replied. I was getting irritated.

Gribnor shrugged.

“Why would we not go?” I asked, trying to sound only curious. I had caught Gribnor’s eyes dancing in a soundless laugh; he was baiting me again. For the umpteenth time since we met, I considered getting rid of him, but in truth, I needed him. He had countless resources. I only had Sal.

“What would you suggest?” I asked calmly. I was glaring out to sea, facing away from him so he would not have the chance to taunt me further.

“Do you know who rules in Lindor?” Gribnor murmured.

I jumped. He had crept up behind to my elbow, practically whispering the question into my ear. Having to hunch down even further than normal to do it, he was looming over me in the most menacing, subservient way possible.

“No,” I replied coldly. “Does it matter?”

He laughed softly.

“This time matter,” he said. “Dragon rules in Lindor.”

“That is absurd,” I snapped. “If a dragon ruled in Lindor I would know it.”

I was not sure though as I said it. How had I and my clutch-mates’ eggs come to lie under the city? Didn’t it make sense that a dragon would naturally rise to power? I could think of no reference to such a thing in my diverse memories. Dragons only hid amongst humans and come to think of it, I knew this only by rumor. Human rumor. We were secretive and smart. It was just like a dragon to take control of their domain by any means possible. It seemed odd though to think a mature Great Wurm would choose to remain in a lesser human form rather than take what they chose by force but what did I know? I was still young.

Gribnor was watching me and I flashed him a smile which made him growl.

“Perhaps I should meet this Dragonking of Lindor,” I said.

Gribnor hesitated and it was my turn to enjoy his indecision. He growled again but I fancied he bowed a little lower, more in earnest.

“You would face Dragonking?” he croaked. “Alone?”

“Why not?” I replied. “We might be related. I am from Lindor too. You may be speaking to a prince.”

I liked the idea, chuckling to myself. Up until now I had really thought very little about the future except for opportunities to avenge myself against those that have wronged me.

Again, Gribnor interrupted my musings. He refused to be ignored.

“You brave,” he murmured with an appropriate respectful tone perhaps for the first time. “Your memory will be honored, for you will surely die. Good death, best death. In jaws of Dragonking.”

“Absurd,” I snarled. “If he rules as a man, he must have human tolerances. He will receive me as a guest.”

“Perhaps,” Gribnor said, “if you ask permission first.”

“Of course, I would petition his Lordship for an audience,” I snapped.

“I pass request to border guard,” he replied. “Want to come?”

“To the border,” I said more to myself, “ofLindor?”

“Shining hole lead to cavern under Lindor on edge of Dragonking lair.”

“Absolutely,” I decided. “Let’s go.”

For the first time, I entered the gently oscillating mist of the shining portal. It was cool on my flesh. There was a moment of disorientation, a ringing in my ears. Then the mist receded, and I was stepping into a vast cavern with stalactites and stalagmites clinging toits shadowy ceiling high above and the floor about me. They resembled teeth in a colossal maul as if we truly stood now within the very jaws of the Dragonking.

A stale wind blew through the silent stone army surrounding us and it seemed the breath of the Dragonking while countless crystals winked like eyes in the flickering light of torches that had been thrust cruelly into waist high piles of skulls, human and otherwise, strewn about; the remains of a terrible massacre hidden here in the depths of the earth.

Most horrible of all though, was the fear that immediately took hold of me, squeezing my chest so that I could barely breathe. It was the memory from before my hatching, a great dark presence like an impending storm. A silent avalanche of dread crashed down upon me and I was buried alive, unable even to move. It was the ominous specter that had crept into my heart on the night that the nethergrim appeared and revealed the shining portal.

He was here. Now. I had to escape, to flee. Every instinct I had cried danger, danger, danger! Run! But I could not move.

Sal stood beside me, torch in hand searching the gloom with fearful eyes. He did not know. He could not feel it like I could, but he knew something was wrong.

This was a mistake. Gribnor was right. This way was death, death for us all.

Gribnor had stepped forward and seized a black curled horn that hung down from one of the skull torches and blew. It wailed hollowly, echoing throughout the cavern. Grudgingly, eyes precipitated out of the shadows, shambling forward in the characteristic nethergrim shuffle.

“Why you come here Gribnor?” The largest of the newcomers said. “You challenge Chagrak? Come to fight for right to serve Dragonking?”

Gribnor seemed to consider it.

“No,” Gribnor said finally. “Chagrak spill much blood in honor of Dragon. Someday we fight if Dragon will it, but Gribnor not here to fight.”

The other nodded.

“Why you come then?”

“Dragonking’s little brother has come to sacrifice himself if Dragonking will it or serve Dragonking’s commands.”

He looked at me, nodded.

I was still partially paralyzed by the monstrous presence looming about me. My eyes shifted from Gribnor to the other. I licked my lips, took a shuddering breath.

Why were they not running in terror? Only my dragon-will kept me from fleeing. Or was I still paralyzed? Vaguely I was aware that everyone was staring at me, but the Dragonlord’s terrible presence held me. The walls of the cavern seemed to ripple like a veil as the presence moved behind it. Slow, terrible tendrils seemed to wrap about me, entering my mind, penetrating my awareness, stripping away the feeble cloak of illusion I had unconsciously created to shield my fragile identity from it.

“Who. Are. You?” It seemed to say. “Who?” it demanded. “Who, who, who?”

“No…no one, nothing,” I muttered, staggering back as if I had been struck.

Gribnor growled, glancing at the other who scowled.

“You shame me, dragon,” Gribnor murmured, eyes blazing. “You endanger us all. Speak!”

I could only stand transfixed. The presence was prying into my thoughts, my mind.

“Is this joke Gribnor?” Chagrak snarled. “Do you taunt to me? Why parade false dragon before me and waste time?”

“I would not dishonor Dragon with such a lie!” Gribnor retorted, eyes flashing dangerously. “Chagrak is too quick to judge. Dragon is communing, can you not see it in his eyes?”

Chagrak paused considering. Then he gasped. The presence had triggered something in me, like a harmonic, a resonance. The dragon spirit within me was responding to the presence as if my flesh was remembering my true form in such proximity to another of my kind. Just as I had changed when I hatched to mirror the human forms via a similar if less aggressive immersion into another’s mind.

It was a sudden violent change and justintime. Nethergrim on both sides were bristling with indignation. Some had drawn weapons, glaring at each other. Not all had heard what Gribnor said but all heard my response. I expected an embarrassing cry to escape my lips as I doubled over, wracked by a series of convulsions throughout my body. Instantly I was relieved by the roar that emerged from my throat.

I was changing involuntarily, my features revealed as if I had been unmasked. I doubled over in pain as my spine shifted violently within me, stumbling forward a step as my center of balance adjusted.

Gone the belligerence and bravado of the nethergrim. Gone the doubt and disbelief. They were new converts, falling in reverence upon their faces.

I bellowed in pain and fear, but they quivered before me.

“I must go,” I tried to say.

The Dragonlord was coming. We were all in danger. I could feel his presence orienting more fully upon me as if turning toward me, focusing upon me. I could feel his rage. Was I invading the lair of such a beast? I was a child. I had never known true pain or terror. I was about to learn, if I stayed, if I dared to continue irritating him with my presence.

“I am Dragon,” I cried. “Behold I make myself known to you, but I am not the Dragonlord of Lindor. I will return when he commands. For now, I will go.”

Was that it? Empty words but they responded roaring and gnashing their teeth.

The true Dragonlord moved closer like an impending storm. Soon he would be upon us.

“Go!” I commanded. “Serve him well.”

It was too late. A deafening roar shook the silence. The very ground shook and we were all running. Chaos ensued. I was changing back as I fled, returning to my human disguise and I could feel the presence of the Dragonlord pass over me, searching for a contender, a rival, not a mortal, a mere human. Men were not even a threat. Not worth his attention. His servants would deal with any human foolish enough to enter his domain.

Was I a threat? Had I challenged him? I had not fully changed. Wings, tail, claws and teeth. I became a fiendish half breed, but it was enough. I still felt the power of my voice, my will. So, that is what I would become. A force of nature worthy of the attention of a being as great as the Dragonlord.