Strachana by Judy Colella (i like reading books .txt) 📕

They were sitting near the tree their son had unintentionally destroyed the day before, Zela having insisted they leave it as it was to remind both of her ferocious loved ones to be more careful.

“I have a few ideas.” He reached down and plucked a meadow flower growing near one foot.

“Will it be far?”

“Yes. You must also prepare yourself for the cold.”

She grinned. “I live with an ice-breathing dragon. I think I can do that.”

“Yes, I know you can, my moxtorn-ternock." This was the most complimentary nickname to give a human, as it meant one who was as tough as a silver-dragon scale. "Now, listen. We shall be traveling far into the northern lands where the mountains are much higher than these.” He waved a hand to indicate their own. “A great deal more snow, too, of course.”

“You sound delighted at the thought.”

Ah, she knew him too well. “I am a Silver, after all. That is our natural terrain.” He handed her the flower and kissed her lightly on top of her head. One day in what for him would be “soon,” those beloved honey-bright strands would begin to fade into weary gray. If only he could…

“And now you look sad. What is it, Neri?”

He could never lie to her. “I was thinking of how short your life is compared with mine.”

“Indeed. But I wouldn’t want to live that long anyway, my love.”

For some reason that surprised him, perhaps because they’d never discussed it before. “No?”

“No. I would get too…tired, I think. And lazy, maybe, if I knew I had that many years ahead.” She shifted closer and snuggled into his embrace. “This way is best and as it should be.”

He wanted to say, “For you, perhaps,” but didn’t wish to sound petulant or selfish. Instead, he murmured an unenthusiastic agreement and kissed her again. A few minutes later he asked if she wouldn’t mind leaving within the week.

“Not at all, but why so soon?”

“The winter will come to our mountain before much longer, and I think we ought to be back before the heaviest weather begins.”

“Ah. Good thinking.”

Every summer, Zela and her children gathered food stores and buried them in the coldest caverns that could be reached by the tunnels off the main cave. During early autumn they pulled out the huge tapestry of thick wool she’d sewn together from ones taken by her husband from neighboring castles.

The way he did this was simple, really. In the spring, the servants living in those strongholds would bring the tapestries outside to be beaten free of dust and moth, and left draped over parapets to air out. Neri would wait until the servants had gone back inside, then swoop down and snatch one of them. Once in a while, he’d hear a pinging sound where an arrow had been shot at him, only to bounce uselessly off his scales. He found this amusing.

But why bring his wife tapestries? So she could make a warm curtain to cover the mouth of the cave and thereby keep herself and their children warm all winter. Once the food was stored, the tapestries hung, and wood enough for cooking fires stocked near the back of the cave, they would be ready for anything the weather would toss at them.

By now, the children were old enough to finish the preparations themselves. It was late summer, but Neri warned his wife that they might not be back until deep winter. That night, they spoke of their plan as the three ate (Neri was still full from all those cows; he might have been the size of a man, but this form and size were only an illusion – his appetite was still that of a massive creature).

“Father, you really don’t have to do this,” said Vorel, wiping her mouth with the same grace as her mother. “I’m sixteen, but…I’m only sixteen. We all know that even though that’s getting toward spinsterhood in human terms, I’m going to live ever so much longer. So…I’m still just a child in that way.”

Neri raised an eyebrow at her. “A very well-developed child, I must say.” He drank some water and shook his head. “I may not be human, but I am nonetheless familiar with the ways of youth. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t be interested if the right young man crossed your path.”

She giggled. “He’d have to be somewhat extraordinary, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would, and that, my dear, is why your mother and I are going traveling. We shall find that extraordinary young man and either bring him back with us, or make arrangements for you to go and meet him where he lives.”

J’nah belched.

“Young man!”

“Sorry, Mother. Didn’t expect to do that.” He looked down, reddening.

Zela rolled her eyes and got up. “Well! If we’re all done eating, let’s clean up and get ready for sleep. We can discuss this further tomorrow. Oh, and Vorel, I’m going to need your help getting prepared.”

“Of course.” The girl bent down and gave her mother a quick hug, already much, much taller than the human who had borne her.

When Neri had begun taking his family to visit Welan, they had worked together to build a kind of litter that could be strapped between his wings and prevent any of them from falling off his back mid-flight. In preparation for their long journey, Zela draped the sides with several thick layers of woolen cloth, made a bed from goose-feathers densely packed into a large sack of soft cotton which she placed on the floor near the back of the litter, and stacked a number of blankets nearby. She filled a hamper with winter clothes and cloaks for herself and Neri, wrapped the wooden hand-holds along the walls inside with cloth, and prepared another hamper for food and water.

This took several days to complete, but by the end of the week, all was ready. After making sure her children knew exactly what to do to survive in their parents’ absence, and having spoken with her father two days before about checking on them from time to time, Zela told Neri to change. The litter had already been brought out into the meadow; as soon as he was his dragon-self, she, Vorel and J’nah lifted the well-stocked litter using the ropes and pulleys they’d devised for the purpose. When it was settled securely between Neri’s shoulder blades and between the front part of his wings, they tied it under his belly, tugging and yanking on the ropes to make sure it wasn’t going to slip sideways or come undone.

“Thaattt feeelzzz rrright,” Neri told them, moving a bit to assure himself that the contraption was as well-attached as it could be.

Since Zela could never accomplish any of this on her own, he would have to stay in dragon-form the whole time they were gone, but neither of them saw this as a problem – she’d lived with him a long time, and happily, before ever learning of his ability to shift, and for the sake of her daughter was content to do it again for a while.

The woman embraced her unusual offspring, promising to be back as soon as they could; she gave them some last-minute instructions, reminding them that if they did have to go to their grandfather for help, they would have to avoid contact with anyone else.

Neri gave them a bit of his own advice and they stroked his nostrils with affection before helping their mother climb up and into the litter.

“I’m all set!” she called, peeking out through the makeshift curtains.

Vorel and J’nah backed away, waving. Neri, giving a nod, flapped his wings once, and they were aloft in an instant. He hovered for a few seconds, staring down at the two tiny figures in the meadow, then turned his gaze northward. And with another powerful stroke of his mighty wings, making a whooshing noise that could be heard for miles, he carried his precious love away into the glorious freezing north to find his brethren.

FASHA

 

Wrapped in several cloaks over three layers of clothing, Zela stood between the horns of her dragon husband, her eyes squinting against the snow-brightened sunlight. She had never been anywhere further from her father’s cottage than the small mountain where she currently lived. The sights before her were therefore beyond anything she’d ever imagined, and for a while, she couldn’t speak.

Neri waited, saying nothing, his own eyes taking in the jagged mountain peaks with a joy that verged on hunger. Three days and nights it had taken them to reach this place. Normally, he could have gotten there in a day, but that kind of speed would have made breathing impossible for Zela, even within the confines of the litter.

“What a magnificent place, husband! Is this where you were born?”

“Hatchchched,” he reminded. “Yesss.”

“What do we do now?”

“Wee wait forrr the winnndd to ssshhhiffft.”

“Ah.” He had once told her that a dragon’s sensitive nose could snatch up the scent of another dragon easily, if the wind were blowing in the right direction. So she leaned against one horn, huddled in her cloaks, and waited.

“Therrrre!” said Neri suddenly. “Rrreturrrn tooo the littterrrr.”

She turned with haste, climbing back into her shelter. It was warmer, but not by much. “I’m in!” she called (he’d explained at one point during the first day that she didn’t need to put her head outside to be heard. His hearing was as sharp as his sense of smell – and all his other senses for that matter).

Neri gave one gentle flap that took them off the side of the mountain where they’d stopped, and headed more toward the east. He’d picked up the unmistakable smell of rain. In any other climate, this would not have been remarkable, or necessarily indicative of the presence of another silver dragon. But here, where the only thing coming out of the clouds was snow or sleet, it was a unique aroma, the very one that defined his kin.

They had almost reached the peak of the mountain toward which he’d been flying, when from the clouds appeared neither snow nor sleet, but the only other thing (besides rain) that he would expect to see – another silver dragon. It had apparently been cloud-walking and must have sensed him.

Smaller than Neri, but not by much, this was a fairly old dragon that had seen some difficult days. Here and there, scales had been torn away – a rare thing, indeed. The creature was back-flapping to hold its position blocking Neri from landing on the mountaintop, its eyes glaring at first, but the expression changing to one of uncertainty when it saw the litter. “Whooo arrre youuu, drrragonn? Annd whattt dooo yoou wanntt here?”

“A placccce to rrrresssst. I amm Vilzriquathtor-Neri of Aussir-Gix Verthicha.”

The other dragon gave him an odd look. “Vilzriquathtor-Neri? I knowww ththtatt naamme.”

“Whooo wwoulddd yoouuu beee, ththtenn?”

“I amm Isthasy Di-Wer Xarzith.”

Neri took a long, deep breath before answering. When he did, it was through a smile, but only another dragon would recognize his expression as such. “Yoouuu hhavvve chchannggeddd a grrreatt ddeall.”

Isthasy Di-Wer Xarzith glance away, seeming to consider something, but then gave a curt nod. “Vverrry welll. Lettt usssss ttalkk.” He turned and flew off, Neri close behind.

They came to rest on a plateau