Chapter 8
I n the end, we hadn’t much further to go. Down a steep, rocky path—the steepest yet—then up a minuscule rise, down again, and suddenly we stopped.
We’ve arrived, the dragon announced.
I glanced up. A natural arch of stone loomed over us, like, I imagined, the opening of a great temple. Rocky barbs dripped from the arch, resembling fangs or teeth, reminding me uncomfortably of my captor’s jaws. I shivered.
“Where is this?” I asked.
The deepest magic in all of Aerisia exists here, the dragon replied mysteriously. Everything you see is fueled by it.
What did he mean? What would I see in this place?
And it guards you?
Yes. There was a quietness, a somberness to the beast’s tone. Yes. It guards me.
After a span of silence, he bid, Come .
I followed him under the arch, past the entrance. Immediately, I was struck by the peculiarity of smelling fresh air. The sensation was so strange, since I was deep in the bowels of the earth, that I couldn’t help glancing up, down, and all around, seeking the source.
Dragon, I began, planning to question him about it. He cut me off by stopping abruptly. So abruptly, in fact, that I jolted back a few steps to avoid stepping on his tail.
This is where I leave you, he said.
I gave myself a shake, wondering if I had heard correctly.
You are leaving me? Where? Where am I? And where do you go?
I cannot answer that, the dragon replied. His long neck coiled about, snake-like, as his face turned to mine. His golden eyes gleamed in the half-light.
You will be safe, Lorna. You will be cared for. But you will not see me for some time.
“I will not— What? What does that mean? Are you not going to eat me? Or use me as a slave?”
In my head, I heard a low, humorous growl.
You’d be a mere mouthful, the beast replied. And you are not my slave, but my…
He stopped. I waited. His what? He’d taken me from my life and brought me here—for what purpose?
My honored guest, he summarized quietly.
“Guest? What sort of guest am I, ensconced in a cave in the heart of Aerisia? What am I to do? Where am I to go? How am I to have food and sustenance? What am I—”
Enough. The dragon’s firm word echoed in my head, smashing my questions. You will be looked after. Farewell, Lorna.
“Farewell? ”
Before I could say anything else, the glow in the dragon’s belly vanished. We stood in total darkness, save for the shimmer of his scales and the gleam of his golden eyes. Then, in a wink, those were gone too.
“Dragon?” I lifted up my voice and called for him. “Dragon, what is this? Where are you?”
No answer. I couldn’t hear him anymore. Couldn’t sense his presence.
Dragon?
Walk on.
I heard the two words in my head, like the fading whisper of someone retreating into the distance.
Walk on, Lorna. Walk on.
Walk on?
What if he were having me walk on to my death? Into the jaws of a monster, or off the edge of a precipice? Into a hidden snare with blades that would leap out to cut me in half?
That makes little sense, rationality inserted. If he wished to kill you, he could have devoured you already. He could have let you fall off the Wailing Cliffs or dropped you into the sea. He hardly brought you all this way simply to kill you.
Unless I’m to be a sacrifice, I grumbled in protest.
A sacrifice to what? To what could he possibly wish to sacrifice you, other than himself?
There was truth in that, but I couldn’t help remembering the dragon saying he lived in this forsaken place because it was safe, implying someone—or something—in our world posed a threat to him.
I shivered in true fear, then pressed on. No hope for it. I had to obey. It was either obey or sit here in the darkness and wail over my predicament .
Gathering what shreds of courage remained after the past couple of tumultuous days, I edged towards the cavern wall until I could drag my hand along it as a guide, feeling my way. I moved in total darkness, battling down my fear, deliberately placing my waning faith in a mystical beast that I had no reason to trust.
Walk on, Lorna. Walk on.
His words were the refrain pounding in my head, guiding my feet.
Walk on, Lorna. Walk on.
I did. Step after step, until…to my surprise and immense relief, I saw a gleam of light.
He wasn’t lying. Something’s there!
Encouraged, I walked a little faster as the light brightened, drawn like a moth to a flickering flame. I walked on until the gentle glow enveloped me, and I could begin to make out my surroundings. I heard the rushing of water beneath my feet, and wondered if these were the heated springs the dragon had mentioned.
The air was very warm. Almost too warm. Moist and humid. In fact, it was what I was accustomed to, there in the Jeweled Isles. Which was strange, being so deep in a cave, not to mention having just come from the icy, wintery entrance above.
Groping along the wall, I turned a final corner, and then…
Stopped.
Before me was the entrance to what I could only describe as a castle or palace, which I’d read about in books of faraway places like Laytrii’s palace in Aerisia’s capital city. Rather than columns and porches and turrets and towers carved by man, every last balcony and pillar was the natural stone of the gigantic cavern, twined or twisted, joined or melded, into the shape of a natural underground palace. A gentle glow suffused the magnificent structure. Initially, I couldn’t determine the source. But as I managed to close my mouth, which had dropped open in shock, I realized the light was coming from the rocks themselves.
Is this some sort of jewel? Is it magic? How does this work?
“Surely, this is strange, strange magic,” I whispered, withdrawing my hand from the wall, half fearing that I would upset the balance of the magic and set off a catastrophe.
Although…what could be more catastrophic than what I’d already endured?
Grimacing, I shook my head and went on, this time with greater ease, due to having light to see by—however natural or unnatural.
I passed under the magnificent entrance, my feet taking me down a narrow corridor that widened into a vast hall. Stone arches soared overhead. Walkways ran the upper length of the room. There was a long, stone table at the center of the room, and on it was one place setting: plate, napkin, mug, fork, knife, spoon, and bowl.
For me?
I assumed so.
The sight of the place setting reminded me that I’d not eaten in hours. Not knowing what else to do, I walked to the table, seating myself on the stone bench. Next to the plate was a silver bell.
Curious.
Again, not knowing what else to do, I picked up the bell and rang it.
The air shimmered. Abruptly, before me appeared a meal on the plate. Bread. Meat. Soup in a bowl. Water in the mug. I was taken aback, but, by now, had figured out this was a mystifying place where I should expect the unexpected. Yesterday, I would have been shocked. Now, I was hungry and longing for something familiar, such as the comfort of a solid dinner. Using the napkin, I wiped my hands before picking up the utensils and beginning my meal. In silence, I chewed and swallowed.
This will take some getting accustomed to, I thought, glancing about the vast, empty hall. It was so silent I could hear the sounds of my food going down my throat. I was not used to this level of silence. At home, there was rarely silence unless most, or all of us, were asleep. Someone was always talking, their speech underscored by the ever-present crash of the waves. Here, was absolute silence that I quickly found wretched, as it reminded me sadly of my misfortune.
Cut off from everyone. Deep in the heart of the earth.
Alone.
At the mercy of a dragon who had disappeared.
Why did he bring me here? I wondered for the thousandth time, setting down my fork. Why? To live in solitude and eat magical meals, presumably prepared by sheer magic or by invisible servants? This makes no sense.
I was weary in soul as well as in body and found my hunger quickly satiated. Either that, or my appetite had simply fled.
Putting the fork down, I neatened up the space where I’d been eating, then stood from the stone bench, glancing around. Did I wander about on my own to find a place to sleep? Or…
On a whim, I picked up the silver bell and rang it.
“I want to go to my room now,” I said.
A soft golden glow, like a pathway, lit up on the cavern floor.
So, that’s the way it’s to be, is it? I thought wryly. Adjusting my cloth bag on my shoulder, I trod the pathway until I’d been led down two or three different corridors which ended in front of a room draped with a thick curtain. The glow stopped at the curtain. Pushing it aside, I ducked into the chamber. The glow from stone recesses in the walls offered enough illumination for me to find my way around .
In the left corner, I picked out the shape of a large bed, covered with heavy, embroidered comforters. Beside it, was a vanity of sorts. In the opposite corner, loomed a tall wardrobe. To my right, was a long, low worktable, or desk, pressed against the wall, under which a chair was stationed. Little else could I see, save a small vestibule off the main room, curtained off, which I assumed to be the washroom and privy. I went there first, finding a warm spring of water in a stone channel about hip high. The water flowed in from one end of the room and out the other. This, I used to wash my hands and face and clean my teeth.
After caring for my needs, I exited and walked to the wardrobe, opening one door. There was barely enough light for me to see them properly, but dresses and gowns hung from the rod, and folded up in the bottom were pants, trousers, skirts, and blouses. I ran my fingertips over the piles of fabric until I located the softest pair of pants and shirt available. These I drew out and changed into, leaving my own clothing, along with my bag from home, on the solitary chair in the room.
The final thing for me to do was simply to retire for the night. I did, climbing into the vast bed, whose firm mattress was considerably more comfortable than my straw-stuffed mattress back home. Drawing the blankets over my shoulders, I shut my eyelids and breathed out a whispered prayer for safety—both mine and my family’s.
I still didn’t know why I was here, where I was, or for how long I’d remain in this place. Nevertheless, I was alive, which was more than I’d thought I would be when this adventure began. And that realization helped my rising anxiety to dissipate.
“Lights out,” I said softly, and the cavern’s glow winked out into darkness .
Nestling into the blankets, I strove to make myself comfortable while pushing away fears and questions for the time being.
Sleep, I ordered my brain. I will explore further tomorrow. For now, ‘tis time to sleep.
I rolled over onto my left side, away from the curtained doorway. The silence was a mixture of provoking and comforting. Yet, strangely, I felt at peace.
Until the man came into my room and lay down beside me.