The Dragon of Trelian (23 page)

It was incredible. For a moment Meg immersed herself in the wonder of what she was feeling. Jakl’s energy pulsed through her veins until she imagined she must be glowing with the sheer force of it. She felt his joy in flight, in speed, the pleasure of stretching his wings and the warm fire that was building within him. Above all she could feel his abundant love for her and his gratefulness that she was finally linked with him completely — the way she was supposed to be. That shamed her; she hoped he could sense in return how sorry she was to have kept him at arm’s length for so long.

She hadn’t lost herself in the dragon as she had feared. They hadn’t become one being. Instead they were two that overlapped, girl and dragon, creating between them a strength and identity stronger than either of them possessed alone. Meg was still there, and herself, but she was also — more. She could live with this relationship, she realized. She thought she could learn to cherish it.

Slowly, she pulled herself back enough to become fully conscious in her own body. They were still together — they would always be together — but now the energy pulsing through her was an undercurrent to her own awareness. She opened her eyes.

Calen was watching her desperately, with that same serious expression. When she met his gaze, he flinched so slightly that Meg wasn’t sure if he had even been aware of it. But if she had needed proof that she had changed, there it was. She didn’t want to think about that now, though. She forced herself to smile. She was done with regret. Move forward, and seize what was good. So what if she was different? She was better. She was more. Calen was still her friend. He’d just have to learn to adjust. Meg felt her smile grow real, if somewhat predatory. It would be good for him.

“So,” she said. “No wild animals?” Her next thought came unbidden:
Other than me, that is?
She fought back a giggle. He wouldn’t understand.

“Ah, no,” he said. He looked at her uncertainly. Then with a small effort he added, “A few mosquitoes, but I think I scared them away.”

Good boy,
she thought.
It’s still me. You can handle it.

Energy was still coursing through her like liquid fire. It made her think of the warmth she’d sensed growing in Jakl’s belly. He’d have his fire soon, if he didn’t already. She couldn’t wait.

Her body felt weak, but she couldn’t sit still anymore. As she pushed herself up, Calen hovered nervously, ready to catch her if she started to fall.

“Do you remember where that clearing was?” she asked. “The one we passed —” When
had
they passed it? She’d lost all sense of time, she realized. “Was it this morning? Or —”

Calen looked at her apologetically. “Yesterday morning. You were unconscious through the night, Meg.”

Oh. Gods, another day lost. . . . She couldn’t think about that now. It didn’t matter. They were going to get back in time. “Can you find it again? Jakl’s almost here. I think that would be an easier place for him to land.”

“Oh,” he said, blinking. “Oh! Sure. Yes. It’s back this way.” He waited for her to step up beside him, then started walking. Meg felt as though she was looking around with new eyes. Everything was so vibrant. The leaves were singing in the wind.

“So . . . you’re okay?” he asked finally. “You’re not still feeling lost?”

She shook her head, smiling. “No. Not lost. Not anymore.” Suddenly she grabbed him and hugged him fiercely. “Thank you, Calen. For everything.”

He stiffened for only an instant and then hugged her back, a little more gently. “You’re welcome,” he said softly. She could tell he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t have to. She knew he understood what she was thanking him for. Without his help, she’d never have made it this far. Jakl would have swept her away forever, probably long before now. Not to mention that she’d be either completely unaware of what Wilem and Sen Eva were planning or dead at Sen Eva’s traitorous hands. “I’m so glad you’re my friend,” she whispered against his shoulder.

He squeezed her again and then let go. “So am I,” he said. His eyes were shining as he turned and led the way back into the trees.

When they reached the clearing, Meg nodded to herself. This would definitely be easier for Jakl. Excitement bubbled up inside her as she thought about how soon he’d be here. With everything that had happened, she hadn’t realized just how much she’d been missing him the last two days.

Calen was off to the side, doing his point-and-turn spell to find north. He’d said he wanted to be able to figure out where they’d been once they got back.

Something suddenly surged within her, and she looked up. There, above the clouds, a dot growing larger as she watched. He’d found them.

Calen followed her gaze, squinting. “Is that him?”

She gave him one of those stares she reserved for his stupidest questions. “No. It’s Jorn and Mage Serek, racing to our rescue on the back of a flying golden unicorn,” she said sarcastically. Calen looked at her and shook his head. Then he turned back to watch the sky. After a moment, she went over to stand beside him.

The dot grew slowly closer. It seemed to take forever. Meg’s pride and pleasure at watching Jakl fly warred with impatience; part of her felt she could not truly believe he was here until she touched him. She wished he was on the ground already. Beside her, Calen made a small sound in his throat. “He’s really high up there, isn’t he?” he said quietly.

“I know,” Meg said proudly. “It’s amazing. I didn’t realize how strong he’d become.” She suspected that part of her pride was coming from the dragon himself — he was feeling quite proud and self-important.
Conceited creature,
she thought fondly. She couldn’t hold it against him.

“Gods,” Calen said. “Seeing him in the sky like that — he’s enormous. I hadn’t realized . . .”

He was right. Jakl looked even bigger than when she’d last seen him. And not just big — powerful. His wings beat steadily, his scales shining in the sun, a million shades of green. Suddenly he threw back his head and roared triumphantly into the sky. She saw Calen cringe from the corner of her eye, but Meg thought the sound was beautiful. It was everything the horrid screams of the garden monstrosity had not been — strong and true and lovely to hear, like a favorite song or a mother’s lullaby remembered from childhood. As Jakl finally neared the ground, arching his back and pulsing his wings backward to slow his speed, Meg found she couldn’t wait any longer. She ran forward to meet him.

“Meg, no! He’ll crush you!” Calen cried out behind her in horror. She laughed at the idea. Jakl would never harm her. She reached him just as he touched the ground, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him fiercely. He nuzzled the edge of his jaw against her hair and then raised his long neck, pulling her up with her feet dangling above the ground. “I see you’ve grown big and strong while I’ve been away,” she said. “Now put me down again, please. And say hello to Calen.”

Calen had walked forward cautiously. “Hi, Jakl,” he said. “Good to see you.”

Jakl rammed him playfully with his head, knocking Calen from his feet. Meg laughed again. “He’s glad to see you, too,” she said.

“Clearly,” Calen replied, scowling.

“All right, then,” Meg said, turning back to the business at hand. “Jakl, do you think you’re strong enough to carry both of us back home?” In response, the dragon crouched low, inviting them to climb onto his back. He did seem to understand her words, although perhaps the meaning came through the link, not her voice. She supposed it didn’t matter either way.

Calen made another of those small sounds behind her. Meg turned to look. His face had gone pale, and a look of horror stole across his features.

“Well, that was the idea, wasn’t it?” she asked him. “How else did you think we’d get back?”

Calen swallowed, not taking his eyes from the dragon. “I — I don’t know. I guess I hadn’t quite thought this all the way through.” He looked up at the sky, then at Meg. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Of course you can. Here. I’ll ask Jakl to take me up first, to show you. You’ll see. It will be fine.” She turned back to the dragon. He was so big; she guessed the hardest part was going to be getting up onto him in the first place. Jakl must have sensed her hesitation. He twisted his supple neck around, grabbed the back of her dress with his jaws, and, with a quick swinging motion, deposited her onto his broad back. “Thanks,” she said once her breath returned. In a lower voice she added, “When it’s Calen’s turn, I think you might want to let him climb up by himself.”

She settled herself at the base of his neck, where it was narrow enough that she could drop her legs down on either side. His scales lay flat and smooth beneath her. There wasn’t really anything to hold on to, so she reached forward and wrapped her arms around his neck as far as they would go. As soon as she was in place, Jakl launched himself from the ground and tore straight up into the sky.

Meg forgot to breathe. Earth and sky and clouds swept by in a colorful blur as she and the dragon shot through the air. They were beyond birds, beyond clouds, beyond anything earthbound creatures could know or understand. They were a comet, hurtling through space and time. Seconds or hours might have passed before she remembered herself and their purpose. Her back was cold from the rush of wind, but beneath her the dragon was full of heat and fire, upside down and midloop, showing off for her and probably terrifying poor Calen beyond all hope. “Enough,” she whispered, and he reluctantly straightened out and selected a more sedate pace, remaining upright and circling placidly like a pony in a ring. He was still magnificent, but Meg found herself longing for their former speed and power almost as much as he did.
Another time,
she promised them both. Right now they had to collect Calen, if he hadn’t run away in terror, and get home as fast as they could. She smiled at that last part, and she felt Jakl’s echo of anticipation through the link.

“But no acrobatics,” she whispered as they made their way back down to the clearing. The dragon was noncommittal.

CALEN WANTED TO THROW UP. MEG
and Jakl were coming back down, and once they landed, they would expect him to climb aboard so they could leap back up into the sky and fly away home. That was impossible, of course. He could never go up there in the sky like that. He did not belong in the sky. He knew where he belonged, and that was firmly on the ground. At all times. So he would just tell Meg that she should go on without him. Maybe she could let Serek know where he was, and Serek could conjure him home somehow. Or he could just walk. How far could it really be?

The earth shuddered under his feet as the dragon slammed to the ground. Calen stood where he was, frozen. He wanted to run away. He probably would be running away right now if he could just get his stupid legs to move. Meg sat looking at him for a moment, then slid to the ground. She walked over, smiling what was probably supposed to be a gentle, reassuring smile, but wasn’t. It was her eyes that spoiled it; they seemed feral and unpredictable. She
had
changed, he realized. There was a wildness to her now that frightened him. He felt like a sheep standing before a lioness.

“Calen?” she said softly. “It’s time to go.”

Sure. Right. Time to go. She was crazy. He couldn’t do it. Shame rose up inside him, coating his heart and mind like thick, black slime. He could not meet her eyes.

Meg gripped his arm. “Calen, there’s no other way.”

“You don’t understand,” he said, staring at the ground. “You’re not afraid of anything. You don’t know what it’s like.”

Her hand on his arm turned into a pinch. He jerked at the sharp pain and looked up at her in surprise.

“I think that may be the stupidest thing you have ever said to me,” she said. “If we had more time, I would give you a complete list of all the things I was, am, and will ever be afraid of, the most significant of which you have been directly involved with not so very long ago but have apparently already forgotten, but for now I will simply tell you that I am afraid my sister will die if we don’t get home in time to save her.”

She was right, of course. He hadn’t thought he could feel any more ashamed than he did already. There was nothing he could say. Meg turned and walked purposefully back toward the dragon. Calen followed. He had no choice. He was more terrified than he had ever been in his life — somehow it was even worse than the moment he’d realized Sen Eva intended to kill him — but there was no way he could look at Meg and tell her he wouldn’t help her save Maerlie because he was too afraid of heights.

With each step toward Jakl, Calen’s stomach inched higher into his throat. He tried to ignore it.
All you have to do is sit there and hold on,
he told himself firmly.
Sit there, hold on, don’t look down. And don’t get sick.
He thought Meg would probably forgive him if he threw up on her. He wasn’t so sure about the dragon.

Meg said something to Jakl and then began climbing up to his back. Calen watched and tried to follow her lead. Ignoring the pounding of his cowardly heart, he placed his hands against Jakl’s side. The scales were smooth and hard, but not slippery. That was slightly reassuring. He had never been much of a climber — climbing always led to someplace higher than where you were — but Jakl’s foreleg provided a good starting place. He half expected the dragon to shake him off like a flea, but Jakl didn’t even deign to notice him until he paused a little too long in his climbing. Then the long neck twisted slowly around, bringing the serpentine head close enough that Calen could feel the dragon’s hot breath on the side of his face. He quickly found another foothold and went on. Jakl was apparently eager to get underway, and Calen had no desire to start this horrifying journey by angering his mode of transportation.