Untitled Chapter Two

She was almost gone before we got there. It shocked me to see this gargantuan creature so weak and helpless. She had her wings, now in tatters, wrapped around her.  In the torchlight, I realized I had mistaken the size of the cave. Looking up, it was though the entire mountain top was hollow. There was easily room for a dragon to fly around or hide. Surveying the pitiful dying creature before me, I began to get an inkling of what had caused the tears in her hide.

                “Who?” questioned the man, approaching her with no fear. “Silverscales,” she rattled, “he came for the girl. She…” Narissa trailed off, looking round warily. He snorted. “We covered your blunder, worm. She ran straight to us. Lucky for you.” Narissa closed her great eyes. “ You were a fool, Quinnen. Not even I would have dared to be so bold. All of your many options and you chose her. He’ll never stop, Quinnen, until you’re dead. I only wish I could have been there to see it.” She coughed, an action that racked her entire frame. It was a wet cough that comes with dying. Quinnen, the man in the cloak, was muttering to himself.

                Narissa turned to me. “Trust his blue eyes,” she said, “above all else, trust his blue eyes.” Then the great beast heaved her last breath, and in front of my very eyes, she died. Quinnen shrugged and removed a dagger from within the confines of his robe. Sensing his intent as he moved towards the dragon, I lost it. “Don’t you dare!” I shrieked, “Don’t you touch her!” Quinnen barely acknowledged my existence as his men half-dragged me from the cave.

                I sat on a rock outside the cave, shocked. What Quinnen was doing felt akin to sacrilege. I didn’t know why, but there was a profound wrongness to it. The men were discussing the crime in terms of greed. There was good money in what Quinnen was doing. The man standing guard next to me was silent, and I got the slightest impression that he might not approve of the going-ons. But before I could discreetly look at his face to make sure, Quinnen came barreling out of the cave. “The cage!” he screamed, “you fools left the cage unguarded!” The men fled down the mountain, nearly dragging me. Needless to say, we reached the campsite in a fraction of the time the first trip had taken. Charging into the campsite with the fire they’d left burning casting an eerie glow, I noticed for the first time a metal cage of to one side of the fire. On the opposite side of the embers, near the end of the campsite, was the post I’d been tied to.

                As I was re-tied to the post, I focused on the cage. There was some kind of animal in it, but it wasn’t moving. My first thought was that it was a victim of Quinnen, and that he had killed it. But it seemed to be breathing, and my brain soon rationalized that you only cage a live animal. Studying it for a moment longer, I identified it as a wolf. My contemplation was quickly cut short by the return of Quinnen, who was still wiping a bright green substance from his dagger. I nearly retched as the smell of the blood reached me.

                He didn’t seem the least bit offended by the smell, or remorse at what he’d done. He kept glancing over at me, and I made sure that he knew I was always watching him, always with the most hateful stare I could muster. He never kept eye contact with me for very long- lucky for him.

                After a while they were all asleep again, this time without a watchman. I saw my chance. Luckily they had tied me low to the ground this time, so I had slept for a few fitful minutes. Now I attempted to grope around in the dirt behind me, searching for a sharp stone or something that could help me escape. I was just about to give up in frustration when a hand clamped on my mouth.

                Now of course my natural reaction was to scream, but luckily the stranger’s hand was strong and prevented a squeak from escaping me. I hoped this was a good thing, anyway. The way my luck was going, this may be some other unknown enemy coming to kill me. But in the next second my fears were lessened when he slit the ropes on my wrists and not my throat. A face appeared next to mine, obscured in the dim light of the dying embers. “Now the wolf,” a man’s voice whispered. I nodded, and together we crept towards the cage. One of the men started to snore, and we both froze as the sound reached us. But when he rolled over and continued to sleep, we began again our path to the cage. The man with me expertly picked the lock in silence, and gently flinging the wolf over his shoulder like it weighed next to nothing. Slinking silently out of camp, we ran off into the night.

                We kept running until right before dawn. I was near exhausted, but I mostly kept up. We entered what appeared to be the stranger’s campsite. He gently laid down the wolf and began to get out food, silent the whole time. I honestly didn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, so I postponed my questions as he handed me food. Once we were done eating, though, he looked me straight in the eyes. “Do you remember me?” He asked. Quinnen had asked the same thing, but his mood was menacing, while this man’s tone was almost pleading. I shook my head sadly. His eyes searched mine, and I jolted with a shock. Now that it was light, I could see his eyes. And they were bright blue.

                Now that I’d reached a conclusion that I might trust him, I took in the rest of his appearance. He was built strong and was fairly tan, and striking contrast to his wavy blonde hair. He probably towered a good four inches over me when he stood up straight. I discovered all this within a fraction of a moment, and realized he was still searching my eyes for recognition.

                “I’m sorry,” I said, truly feeling so, “I wish I could remember you.” His shoulders slumped. Then he looked at me again. “Aaron,” he said, extending his hand. “And Gwen, I am your friend even if you don’t remember me.” I balked a little at this. “That’s not my name,” I said warily. “Well, not your true name,” said Aaron, “but it’s what you go by as a human.” I picked up on that. “Human?” I questioned. “What everyone calls you,” he quickly amended. Pondering this turn of events, I watched as he picked up a stick off the ground and began playing with it in his hands. “What do you remember about dragons?” His question caught me off guard. “Well, not much. Just that I’m supposed to be afraid of a silver dragon, but that other than that I get the feeling that I’m friendly with dragons. But I’ve only met one since I woke up.” “Which dragon?” He questioned. “Narissa…” I began, but Aaron hissed, startling me. “Narissa Nightshade? She’s one of the dirtiest dragons known of.”

                “Well, you don’t have to worry,” I retorted, my voice rising, “she’s dead.” The stick in Aaron’s hands stopped moving. “Dead?” He questioned softly. “Yes!” I cried, “And then Quinnen, he…” There I lost it. I broke down into tears. The man in front of me bore a grim countenance-I didn’t need to finish my sentence. “What did she tell you?” He asked quietly. “Only that a dragon named Silverscales was after me and wanted me dead.” He looked slightly surprised for an instant, but then it was quickly replaced with a mask of indifference. “Huh,” was all he said. “Then I guess we’d better get moving.” He quickly began packing. “Where are we going?” I questioned. Aaron wouldn’t meet my gaze. “For the moment,” he said, “anywhere Quinnen isn’t. Then we’ll see.” I offered to carry his pack, and he consented, but still wouldn’t meet my gaze. We traveled in silence, trudging through the dense forest foliage.

                At lunch time, he led me to another campsite he apparently knew of, as a few trees had been cleared, and two rocks stood in positions to be inferred as seats. But it was well hidden for those who didn’t know of it. He took food out of his pack, and we hid the pack and the wolf in a bush a ways away.

After eating, I began my attack. “Who are you?” I demanded. I glared at him as though trying to read his thoughts. Fruitlessly. Aaron finished chewing and sighed. “Go get my pack.” He said. Unsure whether or not this involved answering my question, I obeyed. But just as I reached the bush our things were hidden in, I heard a cry that I somehow knew unmistakably to be Aaron’s. As I turned to run back, I heard him shout, “Find Aunt Zelda! Tell her I ‘needeth’!” his voice cut off abruptly, followed by the evil cackle of Quinnen. The sound froze my heart and I hid. It may have been cowardly, but it’s what I did.

                Crouching amid the twigs, I nearly stopped breathing, desperate to avoid discovery. The wolf lay silently next to me, its life barely perceptible. I felt a strange kinship to the animal, but didn’t dare touch it for fear of waking it. I needed silence at this point.

                After about half an hour of no noise, I cautiously emerged. I decided to leave Aaron’s stuff where it was, in case I had to run. I crept back to our lunch site, but it was deserted. I decided to start looking for this Aunt Zelda, though I had no idea where to go. I picked a direction and went. All I knew was that it was away from Quinnen. I stopped. It was also away from Aaron. After struggling with this for a bit, I came to the conclusion that finding Aunt Zelda was my best bet for saving Aaron.

                I was surprised how close to a town I was. Hiding in the fringes of the forest, I spotted a house on the outskirts. I decided to discreetly ask for directions. Approaching the house, I saw an older, white-haired lady working in her garden. I made noise so not to startle her. Gathering my courage I asked, “do you know of an Aunt Zelda?” She glanced up at me, then went back to work. “Who’s asking?” she inquired. “I am,” I said stupidly, then added, “and my friend Aaron.” At this the old woman looked up at me again. “Well I’m Zelda, Aunt only to a few. Where’s Aaron?”

                I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, unsure how much to tell. But Aaron trusted her, so I decided to go for broke. “He’s been kidnapped by an evil man named Quinnen.” Then I remembered, “oh, and he said to tell you he ‘needeth’, though what other than help is beyond me.”  She straightened up, not looking as old, or quite as frail as she had a moment ago. Her eyes darted around, “Inside, quickly.” She whispered.  I obeyed, slightly frightened. But once inside the back door, her tone brightened considerably. “Are we in need of some tea, perhaps?” I politely declined, and she caught my mood. “Now what exactly are we talking about here?” I told her everything, which wasn’t much, but she listened intensely.

                Nodding to herself, she mumbled, “This is serious. But I wonder…” She began rummaging in the cupboards on the far wall. “What are you doing?”  I asked, a bit impatient. “Now, now, sweetheart,” she chided, “can’t stage a rescue without some supplies.” I then noticed she had two books and several dried plants in her hands. “Are you a…a witch?” I gulped. She laughed. “Oh, of sorts,” she said, “I can create illusions of some degree and I have a fair hand at potions, but I’m not going to turn you into anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

                I relaxed. “A white witch then?” She smiled “Some would can me that.” Hefting her ‘supplies’ in her arms, she led me around the house to a corral with a beautiful chestnut mare. “Marigold,” sighed Zelda, “a dear friend and companion. She’s very intelligent as far as horses go.” She looked me up and down. Then she turned back into the house, returning with riding clothes. “Try them on,” she said, “unless you want to ride bareback and sidesaddle.” I quickly changed into the blouse and riding pants, and we were off.

                We soon reached the lunch site, where Zelda dismounted and checked the ground. “My guess is that they went that way,” she said, pointing the way I’d heard the men leave. I nodded in agreement. After that we walked Marigold, to avoid the extra noise and to not lose the trail. After about an hour, Zelda quietly dismounted and motioned for me to follow her. Marigold stood where we left her, patiently grazing. We crept forward through the trees, and Quinnen’s campsite came into view. I quickly spotted an enraged Aaron tied to a post. I shuddered at the scene that was a little too familiar, considering I’d been in the same position a day ago.

                Zelda motioned for me to listen and keep my mouth shut. I understood. An exclamation on my part would mean discovery. I cringed as Quinnen leaned forward and slapped Aaron across the face. Quinnen’s smile was nothing less of triumphant and evil, gloating, “Well now, not so fierce without your scales, are you?” I turned questioningly to Zelda, but she warned me to be silent. Shock took over my features as I listened further. “Ha!” said, Quinnen, continuing to gloat, “See that pretty pouch ‘round your neck, my friend? That’s clover, and try shape-shifting with it on!” He paced back and forth in front of Aaron, whose expression was downright murderous. His blond hair hung in his eyes, but it didn’t hinder the potency of his gaze.

                “Thought you could outsmart me?” continued Quinnen, “It was almost too easy to  catch you. Narissa was so sure I’d be no match for you , and look where we are! Not quite as frightening like this, eh, Silverscales?” I gasped. Luckily it was covered by Quinnen’s laughter, but confusion and betrayal swept through me. Zelda was there, dragging me back, pushing me towards Marigold. I blindly mounted and we cantered back to our lunch site. Once there, I slid to the ground and just sat there, staring.  Zelda quickly used magyks to start a fire and was soon handing me a cup of soup she’d produced from who knows where.

                She then lifted my chin so I was looking into her electric blue eyes. “What are you thinking?” she queried. I turned away, “I’m wondering when people are going to stop lying to me.” She turned my face back to hers. “Who’s lied to you?” She demanded. “Narissa, Quinnen, and…” I choked, “and Aaron. I trusted him. I TRUSTED him.” She gave me a stern look. “You’re wrong,” she said, “Narissa is the only one. Evil as he is, Quinnen never lied to you. And what,” she emphasized, “precisely has Aaron lied to you about?”

                I looked at her in disbelief. “He wants me dead! He used me!” The white-haired witch shook her head. “Aaron didn’t use you, and he certainly doesn’t want you dead. I know personally that he’s been searching for you because her cares about you. He’s on your side, trust me.” I glared at her, saying, “He’s Silverscales! He’s a dragon! If he’s truly my friend, why didn’t he tell me?”

                Zelda thought for a moment. “Did you tell him everything you told me?” I nodded. “Think about it, Gwen. How would you feel if you rescued someone whom you care about, and they accused you of attempting to kill them? You probably hurt him very deep, and he would want to prove his friendship before revealing his identity as a dragon.” Then she looked as though deep in thought. “Did Aaron leave you anything?”

I nodded. “His pack and…” I trailed off. It was kind-of random. “And?” she prompted me. “And a wolf that seems as though dead.” Surprisingly her face brightened at this. “Where?” she asked excitedly.  I showed her to the bush with the hidden things and she pulled back the branches, and inspecting the pack. Once done, she turned to me. “Gwen, have you touched this animal?” I shook my head. “Um, no. Why?” She took a deep breath. “Gwen, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I replied. Strangely, I meant it. Apparently I learn to trust fast. “Touch the wolf.” She said. I looked at her quizzically. That was a weird request. But as soon as my finger tips brushed the dark fur, I felt a gust of air. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, they were the eyes of a wolf.