The Elder's Curse by Andrew Walbrown (ereader for textbooks TXT) 📕

the stone. He remembered recounting their struggles in Kuruk’s Tower to Nilawen before acting out scenes of A Dragon’s Peace for Durkan, the dragon greatly amused by his portrayal. But after that his memory became hazy; he supposed he had fallen asleep shortly thereafter. I guess they went to sleep too.

The meadow darkened as something obscured the sun, the shade a welcome relief on the back of Amantius’ neck. Naturally, he assumed a large cloud had hovered across the sky, but then he remembered there had been hardly any clouds since they entered the Alakuum, let alone one large enough to prevent sunlight from gracing the world. Suddenly the wind grew more intense, sending slivers of emerald grass skipping across the brook in front of him. Before he could turn around a loud thud sounded behind him; Durkan had come.

“Greetings, friend,” Durkan said as he stepped forward. Even though the dragon just called him a friend, Amantius’ instincts told him to run away like a field mouse fleeing the talons of a swooping owl. But somehow he was able to overcome his initial impulse and remain rooted beside the brook.

“How do you feel?” Amantius asked, having to force the words to come out of his trembling mouth.

“Like I am reborn,” Durkan replied. He stretched his wings wide, displaying his terrifying magnificence, though he quickly returned them to their place. “I am also very stiff; my wings feel like those of a newborn. But to feel the wind on my face once again as I sail across the blue skies? That is a sensation I believed I would never experience again; a gift which I am eternally grateful for, a favor I could never truly repay. Though, I will try.”

Seeing the joy in Durkan’s face, especially after seeing the pain and misery only a half-day before, forced a matching smile on Amantius’. For the first time in a long time, if not in his entire life, he felt good about himself. He felt as though something he did actually mattered, and was not as insignificant as a single raindrop falling into the sea. The fact that Ulam was the one who hacked away the pieces of stone from Durkan’s body did nothing to deter this feeling, though if he had never tossed the enchanted axe they would all be a smoldering pile of melted flesh and bones right now. It was a team effort.

“What will you do now?” Durkan asked, walking beside Amantius as he returned to the others.

“I suppose we will return to Yawan,” Amantius replied. “After that? I don’t know. Maybe we will live there for the rest of our lives, though I doubt it.”

“Yes, the Kalikkis are not the most accepting people in the world,” Durkan replied. “When I first flew by they tried killing me with ten thousand needles, or at least that is what their javelins look like to me. Although your Kalikki is different, she has never been afraid of us.”

Amantius stopped walking, checking to make sure they were still out of earshot from the others. “Wait. What do you mean by that?”

Durkan craned his neck to the side, one of his sapphire blue eyes staring at Amantius. “You do not know? She has been here before, many times, or so Mulni tells me. She tried curing me at first, though no combination of herbs could remove the curse.”

So Ulam was right; Kona knew there were dragons here from the beginning. Amantius felt betrayed, though he did not think he had a reason to be. I guess she never lied to us because we never asked, and no one died. Does it bother me because she didn’t tell me, even after everything we went through together?

“We will talk no more of this; I can see I have upset you,” Durkan said, turning his head towards the beech trees. “Besides, your Kalikki comes, and I do not wish to upset her too.”

Amantius followed the dragon’s eyes and saw Kona crossing the field towards them, a cloth filled with food tucked under one arm. She wore her brown hair loose, letting it fall wherever it pleased. Seeing her made him smile, though he suppressed it with some considerable effort. “Why do you keep calling her that?”

Durkan’s lips twisted into a grin, which was equal parts playful and frightening. “I may have been blind for centuries, but there are things Durkan the Reborn has always been able to see.”

Amantius felt his face flush redder than Durkan’s scales; he had to turn away. “She isn’t ‘my Kalikki.’ She’s the wife of one of her own people.”

Durkan still wore the same grin on his face. “You sound bitter.”

Am I?

“Greetings,” Durkan shouted as he stomped towards Kona. They shared a quick word before she checked the bandage on his back leg, looking pleased by what she saw. As this happened Amantius joined them, hoping the color had reset in his face.

“I brought you breakfast,” Kona said as she held out the cloth-wrapped food, “or lunch. I’m not sure what time of day it is, to be honest.”

“I’m not hungry,” Amantius replied curtly. In truth he was ravenous, but he was determined not to humor the dragon. That was not the only reason, however, for his sudden change of temperament. Durkan’s words acted as an unintentional harbinger, providing Amantius with a glimpse into the near future. If Durkan believed we were married, then what will her husband think?

“Umm…okay.” Kona looked confused, if not a little taken aback. “Well, take it anyway. You might be hungry in an hour or two, and we have a long journey back to Yawan.”

Amantius grabbed the bread, successfully fighting the urge to not devour it in front of her. They walked back to the beech trees in silence, the only sounds coming from birdsongs and Durkan’s heavy steps. Upon returning, Amantius gave back everyone’s canteens, all of which were brimming with fresh, cold water. While he did this the Matriarch arrived, followed by the other three dragonesses.

“As