Chapter 7 #3
He holds me tight and kisses the top of my head. “Of that, I have no doubt. Not all can bond a dragon. But you, you my little one, are strong, and smart, and pure of heart. You have what it takes to travel through earth and stone, water, sky and bone.”
I giggle and wriggle out of his arms. “Dada, that doesn’t make any sense. You don’t travel through bone.”
“One day you will see little one, and once you have traveled far across the land, through raging currents past the city of glass and over peaks that scrape the sky, you will come to a city carved of light where the dragon rider Avalor waits for you.” My father’s eyes always shone when he told me tales of Avalor, the greatest dragon rider who ever lived.
They weren’t sad tales, but there was always this haunted longing in the way he told them.
My father clears his throat. “Avalor will show you the way, but this part of your quest you must complete alone. Once you have reached the hatching grounds, your dragon will call to you. You must listen and follow that call.”
I bounce to my feet before my father. Then, I duck my head in reverence and slowly extend my palms like an offering to my someday hatchling. He chuckles and takes my hand between his rough, worn ones, burn marks warping the skin there.
“That’s right, little one, and if the dragon chooses you back, he will press his nose to your hand to complete the bond.”
My little body is positively vibrating at the thought of it, but then the smile falls from my lips.
“But, Dada, what if the dragon doesn’t choose me? Will it eat me?”
My father jumps to his feet, scooping me up into his arms, and twirling me around. “Now, where would you get such a silly idea?”
“Because the dragons up topside would eat me if given the chance. Even you have said so.” My lower lip quivers in a pout.
My father cocks his head to the side. “Well, that’s true. You’d best steer clear of the dragons topside. But those are not the dragons that you would bond with.”
My face scrunches in confusion, and my father runs a finger over my wrinkled nose. “They’re not?” I ask.
“No, little one. You will bond with a baby dragon.”
The memory hits me like a rockslide. I gasp and bolt upright in my bed. “A baby,” I whisper into the darkness.
Caius stirs at my side, and I clasp my hands over my mouth as a string of curses follows. This man was shackled to me all day. Was he now going to invade my nights as well? I slide my hands from my face to fist into my hair.
A baby. My father always said I would bond a baby. I search my memories. What else had he said?
“But the journey is far. Are you sure that you want to be a dragon rider?” my father teases.
“Of course, Dada! Dragon riders are the best, and with you by my side, I can do anything.” I throw my arms around him and hug him as tight as my little arms can manage.
“With me or without, I know you can do anything. Now listen close because the journey is long:
East you’ll head at dawn’s first light.
Take refuge in the great sentinels of old.
Beasts aplenty roam the woods at night.
Your story is one yet untold.
A new history waits to make things right.
Through a power that longs to be controlled.
The phase shift come with a terrifying might.
The distance of a map will bend,
When your path is flooded with shimmering starlight
Take care with who will join you in the rift.
One thought will set you on your course.
But one wrong notion will set you adrift.
Through the midnight forest and land of glass,
A fallen kingdom lies frozen at the source,
Across the snow-filled mountain pass.
You will face a trial of earth and stone.
And if your heart is worthy,
Once water is swum and sky is flown,
There awaits a bond in aether and bone.”
I whisper the words along with my father. The fairytale rhyme is our own private prayer.
“Now.” My father straightens up and puts on his serious face. “This is the most important part.”
“Never, ever, ever tell anyone. This is our secret.” We say the oath together.
My head spins with the memory. What if they weren’t just stories?
What if my father had given me a map? My father wasn’t from Bǎodela.
No one ever knew where he had come from when he was found broken and burned in an eastern canyon.
I unfasten the leather cuff and run my fingers over the golden dragon tattooed there, the sky stones of my necklace warming pleasantly.
Could it be? Were my father’s stories more than stories?
Were they tales from his life before The Below? Had my father been a dragon rider?
Caius turns over and slumps into my bed. He mumbles something, and I can’t help myself. I push his dark hair out of his face, the hard edges softened in sleep. I’m reminded of a time long ago.
Certain he is dreaming, I whisper, “Caius, why are you here?”
His lips fumble to form words in his sleep, and he loops an arm around my waist, bringing me close.
My heart slams against my rib cage, a bird frantically trying to escape its enclosure, one which is all too familiar, too easy to slide into old habits and long-forgotten feelings, a dangerous place to lose yourself in.
And yet, it is exactly that familiarity that soothes my frayed nerves.
I’m too tired to fight. For just tonight, I can take comfort where it’s offered.
As my pulse slows and my mind grows hazy, Caius finally answers, pulling me alert once again.
“Because the voices are quiet when I am near you.” He mumbles into my hair.