The Dragon of Trelian (8 page)

He shrugged. “Well, yeah, that’s true.”

“For another, it sounds like some of the bad images you saw were balanced out by more positive ones, so maybe the overall meaning isn’t necessarily a dire one. That’s possible, isn’t it?”

Calen looked over at her, impressed. For someone who didn’t know anything about magic, she was doing some pretty clear thinking on the subject.

“Yeah,” he said again. “I guess that could be true also.”

“Don’t mistake me — I fully intend to find out what’s going on. I’m just saying we shouldn’t automatically assume the worst. The world is a big, wide place, with all kinds of wonderful things in it. One of which, I should point out, you are about to see.”

Suddenly they were standing before the entrance to a cave. It looked extraordinarily dark and mysterious in there — just the sort of place that cried out to be explored by a brave adventurer. Calen found himself impressed again. He wouldn’t have thought a princess would be the sort of girl who went crawling into dark caves in the woods.

Of course, he wasn’t usually the sort of boy who went crawling into dark caves in the woods, himself. But Meg didn’t need to know that.

“In here?” he asked, ducking his head to step inside.

“Calen, wait!” She grabbed his arm and pulled him back from the entrance. His surprise at being suddenly yanked backward combined with his seemingly infallible ability to find rocks with his feet conspired to spill him gracelessly onto the hard ground. He raised his head to stare at Meg, who blushed.

“Sorry.” She reached out a hand to help him up. “But I need to go in first. I’ve never brought anyone here before, and it might be dangerous for you to go in without me.”

Calen raised his eyebrows at this.

“Don’t take it personally,” she said. “Trust me — you’ll understand in a minute.”

With that, she turned back toward the entrance. But then she stopped again, one hand touching the rough stone wall, the other motionless at her side.

“Meg? What’s wrong?”

It took her a moment to turn back around. Her face had changed; suddenly she seemed lost and unsure, not at all the brash and confident girl she’d been just a few seconds earlier.

“Meg?”

She stood there looking at him, thinking gods knew what. Then she shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” She hesitated, then went on. “It’s just strange. I can’t tell my parents, my sisters, not even Maerlie . . . But I do think I can tell you. I know we only met yesterday, and it’s crazy that I’m so sure I can trust you, but”— she shrugged —“I do.”

Meg turned back to the cave entrance. Calen didn’t say anything; he didn’t want to accidentally say the wrong thing and make her hesitate again.

Before she went in, though, she spun back around to face him one more time. He blinked; her face and her pointy finger were inches away from his nose. “Of course, if you prove me wrong, I’ll have to hurt you. Just, you know, keep that in mind.” Then she grinned and ducked inside.

Calen swallowed nervously, then went in after her. The cave wound back into a tunnel. In an awkward crouch, he stepped forward carefully, keeping one hand against the cave wall for balance. Up ahead, he could just make out Meg’s shape in the dwindling light from the entrance. She turned back to whisper softly, “Careful — it bends to the right here.” Then she disappeared.

Advancing slowly, Calen followed the tunnel around the sharp turn. The light from the entrance was cut off completely now, and he couldn’t see at all. Calen didn’t normally consider himself the timid sort — well, except maybe where heights were concerned, but that was only common sense — but this was like being blind. He stepped forward again, and again, one hand stretched out before him, certain each time that his foot would encounter nothing but empty space and he’d go plunging to his death. How had Meg ever found this place? He was fairly certain he wouldn’t have had the courage to venture in this far alone.

Suddenly there was a sound from the darkness ahead, making him jump.

“Meg?” he called out. Surely that sound had just been her. No reason to assume it was anything evil and scary. If some horrible cave creature was lurking in here, Meg would probably have already encountered it. She’d clearly been here before. But then again — she
had
been concerned about his safety when they entered. So maybe there was something to be afraid of after all. These were not helpful thoughts. “Meg?” he called again. His voice sounded very small.
Probably just some effect of the cave ceiling,
he told himself reassuringly.

“Here, Calen.” He felt her hand brush his fingertips, and he took hold of it gratefully. She pulled him forward around another bend, to where a slight glow began to illuminate the tunnel walls. He could make out her face now in the darkness. Her eyes were shining with excitement.

“Ready?”

Calen nodded, though at the moment he wasn’t sure he
was
ready. What kind of crazy secret was this, anyway? She could have warned him about the dark tunnel at least. His heart was still beating a bit too fast as she led him around another corner into a softly glowing chamber.

“There he is,” Meg whispered, squeezing his hand.

Calen felt his jaw drop. He froze in the entrance, staring.

It was a dragon.

Curled up against the rock wall, it lay as if sleeping, with its pointed tail resting over its forelegs. As the first moment of shocked recognition passed —
a dragon, it’s a dragon
— Calen realized that it was probably still very young; from the little he knew about them, full-grown dragons were supposed to be enormous, and this one seemed barely bigger than some of the king’s warhorses. Its scales were a rich dark green, deepening to nearly black at tail and wing tips, and its slender head was crowned with sharp spikes that continued partway down its long neck. He supposed it was beautiful, in a frightening, serpentine way, but most of all, in that small confined space, it was terrifying, and Calen couldn’t imagine how they’d be able to make it back out the tunnel entrance before it caught them and killed them. Or simply burned them to a crisp from where it lay, assuming it was old enough to make fire.

Before he could even begin to think of what to say, Meg released his hand and began walking toward the creature. It opened great yellow eyes and calmly watched her approach. Calen stared in horror, certain he was about to see her torn apart with claws and teeth before his eyes.

Instead, the dragon rolled over onto its back and let her scratch its scaly belly.

Calen was aware of his jaw falling even farther toward the ground and quickly closed his mouth before Meg could notice and make fun of him.

She looked over at him and smiled. “Come on,” she said. “I think it’s all right.”

“You
think
it’s all right?” he asked under his breath. All the same, he found himself walking toward them. He still couldn’t quite believe it. He had certainly never expected to see a dragon close-up in his lifetime; they tended to avoid populated areas, and as a mage in service, he would most likely always live in or near large towns or cities. Yet here he was, not only looking at a dragon but apparently about to touch it, assuming it didn’t decide to kill him before he got the chance.

The dragon, meanwhile, had returned to its previous position. It watched him with those unblinking yellow eyes. Meg stroked it and whispered to it softly.

When he was only a few steps away, Meg stopped him. “Now slowly hold out your hands,” she said. “And wait.”

Calen did so. For a moment nothing happened. He and the dragon looked silently at each other. Was he supposed to look at its eyes? Or would that be seen as some kind of challenge? He hoped it was all right, because he couldn’t seem to look away. The dragon was mesmerizing, as still as if it were carved in stone, except that it was clearly very, very much alive.

Slowly, it started to move. It uncurled itself and slid toward him, sharp claws scraping against the rock floor. Calen remained frozen as the thing circled him, twining snakelike around his legs and inhaling with great snorts of breath. It was amazingly supple; it twisted bonelessly to surround him with its long body as it finally brought its head up to face his own. The yellow eyes stared into his with a strange alien intelligence for several slow seconds. Calen could just see Meg back against the wall, watching silently. Then the dragon began moving again, twisting around and bringing its scaly neck up to rub against the undersides of his outstretched hands. Calen released the breath he had been holding and thought he heard Meg do the same. He ran his hands along the creature’s neck, feeling the smooth scales move under his skin. It was amazing — he was stroking a dragon. He’d bet Mage Serek had never done anything like this.

Finally the dragon slid back over to where Meg was now sitting. It curled up around her and appeared to go back to sleep. Calen shook his head in wonder and went to sit beside her.

“His name is Jakl,” she said. “Or at least, that’s what I’ve been calling him.”

“How —?” Calen didn’t even know how to finish the question. His mind was still reeling. A dragon!

Meg rested a hand on Jakl’s neck and looked down at him fondly. “I found him about five months ago. I have no idea where he came from — crawled down from the mountains, I imagine, but he was so little, and there was no sign of his mother or any other dragons. Nan Vera had taken all of us out for a walk in the woods, and as usual, we had all wandered off in different directions.” She paused to glance up at Calen, grinning. “She really hates when we do that. I was walking near a creek, not really thinking about where I was going, and suddenly I heard this terrible hissing. I looked up and there he was, perched on the edge of a rock near the water. He was tiny, then, about the size of a big dog, but still, with his wings spread and his mouth open like that — it was terrifying. I didn’t know then that he didn’t have any fire yet, either.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, at first I didn’t do anything. I was too scared. That was probably a good thing, I think. If I had tried to run right then, or cry out, I’m not sure what he would have done. So I just stood there, frozen, and I tried to radiate goodwill. That must sound pretty stupid, but it’s all I could think of. They’re supposed to be able to sense things; at least, I thought I remembered that from stories, and so I thought, let him just sense that I’m not going to hurt him. . . .”

“No, that’s not stupid at all,” Calen said. “I mean, I don’t really know about dragons, but Serek
has
taught me about dealing with aggressive creatures in the wild, and you’re supposed to try to communicate physically, let them know you’re not a threat. You probably did exactly the right thing.”

She shrugged. “Well, it seemed to work. After a few minutes he came over, sort of like he did to you just now. Stared at me, like he was trying to see who I was. Then he relaxed and rubbed his head against my leg. Just like a cat! I swear, I expected him to start purring. Anyway, just then I heard Nan Vera calling for us, and I knew I couldn’t let her see him — she’d tell my parents, and I didn’t know what they would do. I’m sure they wouldn’t just leave a dragon to grow up within sight of the castle, though. So I told him to wait, that I’d be back. I know he couldn’t really understand me, but he didn’t follow when I backed away, so either he somehow picked up some of my meaning or he was just too cautious to go toward the other voices. After that I started sneaking out every couple of days to visit him, and eventually I found the cave and brought him here.”

She cocked her head, frowning. “He’s growing so fast, though. Pretty soon he’ll get too big for the tunnel. I don’t know what I’ll do with him then.”

“Aren’t you worried at all about what will happen when he’s fully grown? I mean, about him attacking the castle or carrying off serving girls or something?”

Meg shook her head. “No. I know I should be, but I’m not. I feel — connected to him, somehow. Maybe it’s all the time we’ve spent together or that he was separated from his mother so young, but somehow I know he’s not going to hurt me. And I don’t mean just physically. I mean, I know he’s not going to threaten the castle or do anything that would cause me pain.” She tapped her heart, then looked at Calen, clearly wanting him to understand. “I know it in here. I can feel it. Is that crazy?”

Calen looked down at the dragon, sleeping with his head snuggled tight against Meg’s body. What she was saying did sound a little crazy, really, and yet — there was clearly
something
going on here. He looked back at her. Her eyes were still on him, more open than he’d seen them before, questioning, wanting his — approval? Understanding?

“I don’t know, Meg,” he said slowly. “It seems possible, but at the same time, it’s a big risk to place that much trust in a feeling.”

“But it’s more than a feeling. I can’t really explain.” She paused, seeming to steel herself before she went on. When she spoke again, it was in a rush, as though she didn’t want to give herself time to think. “We’re connected, Calen. I mean truly connected. I can feel him, all the time. He . . . pulls at me. As if he wants something, but I don’t know what it is. It’s like there’s a part of him that lives inside me now. It gets stronger when I get closer, but even when I’m farther away, he’s with me. I can’t make it go away. And sometimes . . .” She looked down at her hands, which she was wringing nervously. “Sometimes I don’t want it to go away. It makes me feel . . . strong. Powerful. Like I can do anything. But even when it feels good, it’s scary. I’m different. I’m
changing.
I — I don’t know what to do.”

She fell silent. Calen tried to think of what to say. The bold, brash princess was gone again; during those last few sentences, Meg had sounded frightened and alone.
She’s asking for my help,
he realized. Maybe that shouldn’t have been so startling, but it was. Had anyone ever asked for his help before? Ever? He didn’t think so. There had never been anyone to ask him. People had always been
telling
him to do things — the innkeeper and his wife, cooks and masters of hearths and stables, Mage Serek, in abundance — but no one ever
asked
him. For anything. He felt something small and bright and warm flare into existence deep inside him — the same sort of feeling that magic used to inspire in him, before it became clear that Serek had been wrong about him, that he didn’t have whatever natural ability the mage had thought he’d sensed all those years ago that day at the inn. His spark, he thought. Serek had used that word, and Calen had assumed he’d meant it metaphorically. But that’s really what it was. He could feel it. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until he suddenly had it back again.