| SORCEROUS SIGNALS |
| Written by Sandra Panicucci / Artwork by Holly Eddy |
| Make a donation to this writer |
| Growing up Dragon |
Darrun watched the slow moving cattle in the valley below. Easy supper. But if Papa caught him chasing them, even for
fun, his tail would be blackened for a week.
Don’t make the humans angry. Papa was a wimp. Humans were piteously weak creatures. Why Papa went out of his way
to appease them, Darrun would never figure out. Rumor had it; the great Kallun had even rescued a human once. Humans
never lifted a finger to help Kallun when his mate had died in an avalanche.
Darrun’s head drooped, his scales dulled from the hunting gleam they’d taken on. Mama had died saving him. And then
Kallun had been straddled with an infant son. Small wonder he’d taken to dealing with the humans. Darrun wished he
could remember if the humans had ever been any help to himself or Papa. If they had, maybe Papa’s complacency toward
them was explicable.
But Darrun was only ten years old. Just out of the nest and able to fly on his own, on those rare occasions Papa trusted
him enough to let him out of sight. He couldn’t be expected to remember things that had happened when he was a toddler.
His stomach rumbled and the gleam returned to his blue scales as he watched the herds.
He crept out of the nest and perched upon a boulder, wondering if he could make a kill and return before Papa got back.
Motion caught his eye in the line of oak trees that surrounded the field. Wild game! Papa wouldn’t get upset if he fed
himself on boar. He watched for the motion to happen again and saw there was more than one creature moving in the
forest. He opened his wings and flapped them, stretching and warming. He’d only flown without Papa a few times. His
wings were strong though. The warm winds slid over the tough membranes between the ridges as though urging him to
fly. A shrill cry reached his ears and he imagined one of the creatures below was a hunter. It was taking his prey. Of
course, it would make a more exciting catch than a rabbit. He wished they’d come out of the trees so he could see if they
were worth going after.
Then again, no rabbit had ever shrieked loud enough for him to hear it in the lair, it had to be bigger.
Darrun’s talons dug into the stone and he leaned into the thermals. With a flap of his seven foot wings he released the
ledge and was airborne. He climbed higher, enjoying the rush of wind over his body. His meandering path circled lazily
until he was over the tree line. The view from above was, if anything, worse than the oblique view from the lair. The
crowns of the big oak trees concealed the inhabitants below.
He circled lower and was surprised to hear panicked human voices.
“Dragon!”
“Let’s get out of here!”
“But she’s not...”
Two sets of hoofbeats fled north. Darrun settled lower preparing to land in the field and a third rider hurried after his
friends. Papa would be angry if he chased the humans so Darrun decided to take their kill. Blood scent rose to his nostrils.
Something was bleeding and he didn’t really care what it was. He was hungry.
Extending his hind legs, he settled gently to the ground, wings stirring the dried leaves of the past winter. Light green buds
blossomed on the trees. He shivered as he felt the chill of the damp ground. A breeze carried the scent to him and his long
forked tongue twined itself around his front tooth and flicked grit from his nostril. He turned to follow the wondrous
aroma to its source.
He snaked his way through the trees until he found his meal. Disappointment rose as he realized it was a human. He
prodded it with a talon and it rocked back and forth but made no motion on its own. Darrun was reasonably sure it was
female. It was curled on its side. One of the human’s tiny sticks protruded from its midsection. His excitement rose. It
was still warm. Surely Papa wouldn’t care if he ate it. It was already dead. His tongue slipped between fangs and tasted
the blood.
Darrun flapped his wings and reared back in surprise. Pain brought him up short and he furled his wings, rudely reminded
he was in close quarters. He sniffed the body again and flicked his tongue through the blood. He hadn’t been mistaken.
The blood was not human, but dragon. He backed away from the corpse shaking his head in puzzlement. How was such a
thing possible? He looked away from the wound and turned to examine the face of the human. Red hair fell over one sharp
cheekbone. The chin was firm and angular. Dead green eyes were open and staring.
She looked familiar. No matter what her blood tasted like, his eyes insisted she was human, but dead or not, Papa would
not want him eating one of his friends.
What to do? Papa would know. But Papa would never be able to get between the trees. Darrun stretched forward and
gently took her in his mouth; the weight was almost more than he could manage. As he lifted the body, a thin wail arose
and he suddenly noticed what his inspection of the dragon flavored corpse had missed. He placed the morsel gently back
on the ground and considered the new problem. The pack on the human’s back was wiggling and the cries were growing
louder.
This was a problem for Papa. Darrun wished he’d stayed in the lair. He’d managed to do nothing but make a lot more
bother for himself. And he was still hungry. He picked the woman up again making sure the pack was in a position to
retain its occupant and worked his way back to the open field.
Now what? He could barely walk with it. No way was he going to fly back to the lair. Out in the far corner of the field,
the cattle lowed uneasily. Darrun turned to watch the path to the humans’ dwelling. They’d be angry if they found him in
the field with their beasts. They may turn dangerous if they saw him carrying a human corpse. Uneasily he scanned the
sky. Where was Papa?
Darrun hunkered down at the edge of the forest, making himself as small as possible, smoke seeped from his left nostril as
he growled a low croon meant to be soothing to the infant in the pack.
The sun moved across the sky and as the afternoon faded to evening, the cries became louder. Darrun knew exactly why
it was crying. He wanted to cry too. Lack of food would make anybody cry, but he didn’t have the slightest idea what to
feed it. As the sun was setting behind the mountain peaks a great shadow flew over the field. Darrun looked skyward and
roared with joy. His roar brought Papa around in a slow circle and Darrun moved away from the edge of the field and
flapped his wings to catch Papa’s attention.
“Are you injured?” Concern deepened Papa’s voice.
“No.” Darrun answered.
“Why are you down here?” Papa’s immense form circled lower over the pasture.
“I was going to hunt in the forest, and I found something.”
“Found something?” An ominous flame accompanied Papa’s response.
Shadows hid the woman’s body but the infant chose that moment to mewl again.
Papa furled his wings and freefell to a position just overhead, where his wings snapped open and he settled gently beside
Darrun. He dropped the carcass of a deer and turned his head to follow the sound and the scent of blood.
Darrun tore into the deer but stopped with his mouth full as his father’s voice rose in a cry of anguish. No worry about
the humans now. They wouldn’t come out of their houses until daylight with Papa in an uproar. Darrun swallowed the
mouthful of venison and hunkered down as his father turned on him. “Did you kill her?”
Darrun squeaked, choking on his own smoke as he tried to make himself disappear. “No Papa.”
“What happened?”
“Three men ran away when I circled over the forest.”
“On foot?”
“They had horses.”
“Which direction did they go?”
Darrun pointed to the north.
“How long ago?”
“Mid-afternoon.” Darrun knew better than to offer up any excuses or more information than Papa was asking for.
Papa’s voice lowered to a rumble. “You stayed with her the whole afternoon.”
“Yes Papa. The creature in the pack making the racket...it’s a baby isn’t it?”
Papa’s tongue flipped open the top of the pack and drew out a small wriggling shape. He laid the human child on the pack
and licked it up one side and down the other. Oddly enough the wailing stopped.
Darrun looked at the scrap of meat. It was pale except for the backs of its hands and the tops of its feet where it seemed
to be covered with a rash, almost as bright red as its mother’s hair.
“Should we take it to the humans?”
Papa shook his head. “They would kill her, as they did her mother.”
“Papa?”
“Yes, Darrun?”
“I know I shouldn’t have, but when I realized the human was dead...” Papa frowned at him and Darrun almost lost his
nerve. Curiosity urged him to risk Papa’s anger. “I thought just a small taste...”
Papa’s head whipped to the corpse, “You did not!” His anger was overwhelming.
Darrun hunkered down on one side, his neck curled under a wing, hoping Papa’s anger would pass. Voice muffled by the
thick membranes of his wing, he said, “I did not. I only licked the wound. Why does her blood taste the same as mine?”
Papa’s growl was under control and Darrun dared to lift his wing. Smoke wreathed his father’s head but the gleam of
anger was already fading. “I should have explained to you a long time ago but it hurt to talk about it.” His black scales
faded to a muddy brown color.
Darrun had never seen Papa so morose.
Papa’s tongue curled around the pink slug looking child. He lifted it and carried it to where he had dropped the deer.
Darrun was surprised when the thing rolled over and extended a long tongue to lap at the blood where Darrun had already
torn it open. Papa licked the younglings flesh, smoke wreathed his head and the pink thing paused in its eating long enough
to wriggle in what looked like delight.
When it was done eating, Papa pushed it toward Darrun. “I will carry your supper and your mother’s body. You must
carry your sister.”
“My...sister?”
“I will explain, but we must return to our home before the humans become brave enough to return to kill Marana.”
“Marana?”
“That is what your mother wanted to name you, had you hatched female. I’m sorry for my anger. You did well to save
your sister.”
“She was lucky the trees prevented them from seeing how small I am.”
Papa snorted flame. He didn’t try to restrain the humor that sliced through his anger and melancholy. “Your mother would
have been proud of you.”
It was silly, really, but Darrun stood prouder and his scales gleamed brilliantly in the last rays of sun. He had never known
his mother but the thought that she would have been proud of him caused him to preen.
He reached his tongue toward the child -- toward Marana -- and wrapped it gently around her midsection. He opened his
mouth and settled her between his fangs. Papa was watching. He used every bit as much care as though he were carrying
an egg. Papa had told him once that carrying the egg that had become Darrun to the heated caves to mature had been the
most important thing he’d done in his fifteen hundred years.
Darrun flapped his wings several times and leapt from the ground. Papa snatched up the two corpses and followed after,
achieving flight with a single great sweep of his wings.
The child lay still while he flew and Darrun worried that maybe he had killed his sister. But how could this thing be his
sister. She had no wings or claws, not even a tail. That rash might have been a few scales and her tongue had dragon
qualities. But still...His mother a human?
At the lair he put the infant down on a bit of fur leftover from a kill, relieved that it wriggled as he lowered it to the ground.
Papa had circled higher to give him time to take care of his burden before swooping in to land behind him. He placed the
corpses on the ground then picked up the human and carried her to a dip in the ground a hundred yards from the entrance
of the cave. He was quiet as he covered the body with rocks. Darrun attacked the corpse of the deer, glad Marana had
only wanted a little blood.
He finished his meal about the same time Papa finished his task. As Darrun cleaned his fangs, Papa shuffled back. “I’m
sure you want an explanation. Your senses tell you the truth but you don’t believe it. That is because you are young and
there are many things you do not yet know.”
“It doesn’t have wings Papa. How can it live with us?”
Papa’s tongue curled over the infant’s wrist. “Touch her here.”
Darrun touched the same spot and found his earlier guess had been correct. The red patches were tiny scales.
Next Papa’s tongue wrapped around a tiny arm and lifted it away from the body. Fine, nearly transparent webbing
stretched from the elbow to the hip.
“She is changing.” Papa whuffed a huge cloud of smoke and the child giggled. “What I’m about to tell you is not
something young dragons learn until they’re fifty years old and ready to move out on their own, usually.”
Darrun perked up. An adult secret. Papa was going to tell him an adult secret.
“We live long lives.”
Well that was hardly news, but Darrun didn’t dare to voice his comment, Papa might stop.
”And we bear few young.”
Again...not news. He’d asked why he had no brothers or sisters once and Papa had gone into a lengthy explanation how if
they had a lot of young, combined with such a long natural life span, there would be so many dragons there wouldn’t be
enough food for everybody.
“In his wisdom the great god Zorannus saw that three thousand years may become tedious and boring and installed an
escape in the way we live. Many dragons tire of existence before their natural span ends and so we are all given the ability
to transform into a shorter lived species if we wish to end our lives.”
Now this Darrun had not known. “So you’re saying that Mother was so disappointed in me she took her own life? Is it
because I hatched blue?”
“Please let me tell our story before you jump to conclusions. The young are not told this secret exactly because of that self
important, everything’s the end of the world and all about me attitude.”
Chastised, Darrun kept his questions silent and Papa continued.
“It is nearly impossible to die as a dragon, even starvation takes years to actually bring death. But there are injuries that
make us wish we could die. You were less than a year old when the rock slide happened. It was winter and your mother
was tending you outside. The snow was deep and you were having fun romping in it. I had just returned from hunting
when we heard the roar of an avalanche overhead. Even so, it took a few moments too long to realize it would cover our
lair. Marissa snatched you up but it was too late. The snow swept the two of you away.” Papa stopped. His scales
dimmed as he watched the incident again in his mind.
“The snow had huge boulders in it. I despaired of ever finding either of you alive, but as I said, we do not die easily. Five
days later, I did find you. She was wrapped around you, pushed up against a spur. She had melted her way out of the
snow but the damage was done. She had broken her leg and her upper fangs were shattered, but the wings were the worst
they had been decimated; the bones crushed by boulders, the membranes punctured and then frozen. Her other injuries
would heal but she would never fly again. I told her I would bring her food but she said you were more important, and
though I loved her, I knew she was right. We had both lived more than half our normal spans. You were our greatest
accomplishment, our future.”
Papa stared at the pile of rocks for so long Darrun thought the tale might be at an end. That Papa was leaving it up to him
to fill in the blanks, but then with a heavy sigh accompanied by flame, he continued, “She limped her way through the rest
of winter but on the first nice day she transformed. The process heals all injuries...”
“Why didn’t she change back then?”
“Because it does not work that way. Another reason for hiding this from the very young and angst ridden. They generally
fail to comprehend that transformation is irreversible. You can’t decide you want to end it all and then change your mind.”
”But she didn’t want to end it all.”
“That doesn’t change the rules of our nature. At any rate she chose a human form, only to quickly realize that such a form
was not good for life in the outdoors with no clothes and no blankets. We used skins and she stayed on during the
summer but when it started to get cold again we knew she would have to leave. Move down with her own kind. I scouted
out a chivalrous knight and we made a big production of me kidnapping her. I led him a merry chase but eventually
allowed him to win the fair maiden. He was as smitten with her as I was, and I was glad to hear they married. I planned to
raise you and then join her. By that time her husband would have passed on through natural age. Even in our transfigured
forms we mature more slowly she would have still been alive in fifty years.”
“Then why is she dead Papa?”
Kallun’s muzzle stretched to the heights. The roar of anger and pain that erupted from his throat was accompanied by a
blue flame. Darrun had never seen Papa so angry. “Because they are superstitious fools. She obviously gave birth to the
knight’s child and he couldn’t accept its strange appearance. Rather than let her go, he must have decided to kill her. Or
perhaps he decided to kill the child and she would not let him.”
“What will we do with Marana, Papa? Will she be able to live here? Is she changing, or will she stay like she is?”
Papa licked the side of Darrun’s throat, an affectionate gesture he had not done in two years. “You ask very good
questions. I only wish I knew the answers to them. We will have to keep her warm tonight. Tomorrow I will seek out
those who killed your mother and take from them enough supplies to keep Marana warm for some time.”
Papa walked back to the heap of stones that covered Mother, and lay down with his nose pressed against the rock,
breathing her in one final time.
Darrun turned to the thing Papa was claiming was his sister...half-sister, and picked her up, depositing her in the pliable
folds of his left wing and tucking the wing close to his body. Fed and warm she curled up and continued to sleep.
With the first rays of sunshine Papa took wing the next morning. Darrun watched him circle the forest edge, and knew he
was catching the scent of the humans who had hunted down his mate. Papa circled low over the forest three times then
turned north. The wind from his wings bent tree tops and raised dust clouds as he streaked off in the direction the humans
had gone. Darrun shivered, glad that anger was not for him.
Marana awoke crying. And stinking. Gingerly Darrun lifted her from the fold of his wing and dangled her in the air. What
was he supposed to do with her? She was wearing a fur wrapped around her lower half. That’s where the stink rose
from. If she was full dragon he’d clean her with a blast of fire, but humans tended to be rather susceptible to burning. He
raised his front foot and slipped the tip of a talon between the soft flesh and the fur. As the fur fell away he flipped it over
the ledge as far from the lair as possible. The stink still clung to Marana. He turned to the pool that collected rainwater and
splashed some to a separate dip then dunked the child in it. It came away fresh and clean but squalling louder than ever. If
any humans came to tend the cattle today they may hear her and decide to do something foolish, like try to rescue the
baby.
Darrun brought her back into the fold of his wing and the crying settled to hiccupping sobs as she warmed up again.
There was still the matter of food. Darrun wished he hadn’t eaten the whole deer carcass last night. He needed to find
something for her to eat. Something with a warm hide to wrap her in. A sheep would be good. If he could find a young
one he might even be able to carry it back here. But what to do with Marana?
There was a sheep farm to the south, a good distance from the lair. Yesterday Papa would have frowned on him killing
one of the humans’ creatures. Today he didn’t think it would matter so very much. Unless he considerably missed his
guess, at least three humans would fall under Papa’s talons and teeth today. The problem was carrying Marana and the
lamb. He couldn’t carry both and he knew Papa would be angry if he left the child alone. Maybe he should just feed her
and worry about the skin after Papa came back. Papa might even have some of the humans’ belongings when he returned.
Then it wouldn’t be necessary to wrap her in a hide.
Darrun turned his attention to the tree line watching for movement from anything other than the cattle. After an hour it
happened, a flicker at the edge of the trees. Whatever it was was small, probably a rabbit. He picked up the child and
cradled her between his fangs then climbed out on the ledge, watching below. When the motion repeated, he dove off the
rock and plummeted toward the ground, snapping his wings open just as his claws grasped the tiny bit of fur. He
struggled to regain balance and flew back to the lair, his scales shone with the thrill of the kill and when he deposited
Marana beside the rabbit he was pleased when she ate greedily from the somewhat mangled corpse. He was tempted to eat
what was left when she curled up and went back to sleep but realized that since the killers had a night’s head start, Papa
may be gone awhile chasing them down.
Then again they might not run that far. The one at least, had seemed determined to make sure the woman and child were
dead. How could they possibly know that killing her would have angered a dragon enough he would chase them down? At
any rate, just to be safe, Darrun left the rabbit in the shade of a rock, waiting for Marana’s next cry of hunger.
He watched the skies for Papa’s return and as the sun moved overhead, Darrun grew impatient. The child had awakened
twice more to feed, and he had had to move it several times to keep it in the sun and out of its own filth. He was too
young for this responsibility. Maybe Papa could kidnap somebody to care for the baby.
Darkness fell and Darrun began to grow concerned for Papa. He should have been back. Darrun turned his eye to the field
below. His hunger wasn’t that great, the deer from yesterday would hold him another two days if necessary but it wouldn’
t hurt to watch for opportunities. Just in case something terrible had happened to Papa. With the cool of the evening, he
returned Marana to his wing and tucked his nose into the membrane allowing his breath to add warmth to the pocket she
lay in. In the middle of the night, motion woke him. He turned his gaze to the moonlit sky, hoping to see Papa, then
realized that below him in the field one of the human’s was moving across the open pasture. The scent of pitch
accompanied him. He had just put a torch out.
Darrun perked up an ear, no hoofbeats. This man was on foot. Surely he didn’t think he could approach a dragon’s lair
unnoticed. Then again Papa was always telling tales about knights venturing up to the lair and offering themselves as
sacrifices. Well that’s what they ended up being anyway. The pitch tickled Darrun’s nostrils but he inhaled deeply and
attached the human’s stench with the third to leave after killing Mother yesterday.
Papa wouldn’t have all the fun, anticipation gripped him. Darrun unfurled his wing and lifted Marana to her scrap of fur.
As he pulled her from the warm membranes she squalled and the human below stopped. Darrun was tempted to shake
Marana again, just to make certain the human knew where she was. Then he could attack after the human was weary
from the climb up the mountain. But that would put it too close to Marana.
Darrun shifted rocks to the front of the lair, just to make sure there was no way for Marana to roll out of her fur and out
of the lair. He licked Marana as Papa had and she calmed down again. He crept to the ledge at the front of the lair and
waited for the human to move again.
The moon glinted off metal below. Armor. Papa had a stack of armor at the back of the lair. Darrun wished for a full
moon instead of a half. With enough light he could make out what sort of weapons the man was carrying. Most likely he
had a bow; that was what killed Mother. Silence and speed would be needed. Hopefully he could strike before the man had
time to aim.
Darrun waited until the human was in the middle of the field then repeated his tactic for catching the rabbit. As he
plummeted from the ledge he noticed the human had stopped. A crossbow was aimed straight up as though the man had
been anticipating him. Darrun rolled to the side narrowly avoiding the quarrel, then he extended his wings and stopped the
freefall, gaining height slowly wishing for the thermals of the daytime.
He didn’t have to look to know the human would reload the crossbow. Papa had taught him the dangers of the human
weapons. When he was sure he was out of reach, Darrun circled, assessing the problem, reluctant to return to the lair and
show the human where Marana was. He began moving again. Darrun was aware that the moon displayed his every move,
without surprise on his side it would be difficult to get close to an armed and armored human. If he was mature he
wouldn’t worry about the crossbow bolts but his young scales weren’t hard enough to deflect them yet.
The cattle at the far end of field lowed, a small sound that grew as one after the other caught the nervousness caused by a
hunting dragon. It wasn’t them he was hunting but Darrun decided to use that animal fear. He swooped down at the far
end of the field and stampeded the cattle toward the human. It amazed Darrun to see a blue nimbus form around the
human and the herd of cattle part around him, leaving him undamaged.
A wizard! Papa had told him wizards weren’t warriors but this one was armed with weapons and magic. And he was
continuing his straight course across the pasture toward the lair. He obviously knew where it was. Or perhaps he was
somehow tracking Marana but there was little point to Darrun remaining aloft and wearing himself out. He flew back and
lifted his sister from her nest of fur. She stretched her arms and flapped her wings. Darrun wished they were complete
enough wings to make flight possible but he knew if Papa didn’t return soon he’d be protecting her and fighting for both
their lives. He watched the armored man come to the lower slope of the mountain.
With care, the human climbed the steep slope. Darrun dislodged boulders but every time he sent one rolling down, the blue
nimbus flared and the boulder jumped harmlessly aside. The man climbed higher and Darrun increased his attacks. He
thumped the ground with his tail, wishing it was a full and proper adult tail. A couple of smacks would bring too many
boulders for the wizard to shield from them all.
The moon began to set and during that brief time between moonset and sunrise when it was darkest, the human increased
the speed at which he climbed. Darrun could still track him, but most likely the human thought himself invisible.
By the time the sun rose, the human was near enough to make himself heard. “I only want the demonspawn, dragon. Give
her to me and I’ll leave you be.”
Darrun roared back at him, “That demonspawn is my sister you murderer.”
The human stopped and trembled. Darrun remembered that Papa had said they couldn’t understand dragons the way
dragons could understand their speech. Papa said they all thought dragons were no more than animals incapable of
anything more than instinct. When the roar stopped echoing from the mountainside the human moved forward again and
Darrun dislodged yet more rocks. The fifth rock burst through the nimbus of light and glanced off the human’s forearm.
Darrun wished he’d aimed it better. He hoped it meant the man was tiring. Two more rocks bounced harmlessly off the
shield and Darrun decided it was time for a retreat. He picked up his sister, cradled her in his jaw and scrambled for the
peaks, unwilling to risk the crossbows accuracy by offering a target in flight. Had this man killed Papa? Rage began to fill
Darrun’s mind. Once he was over the peak he took flight, landing near a small depression on the far side of the mountain.
He scouted for wild animals. None were near so he deposited Marana in a grassy swell and took to the air, circling the
long way around the mountain.
As he came up behind the human the man was still shouting. “Bring her back; I can track her blood no matter how far you
take her. I will find her.”
Darrun managed to startle him this time and a quick burst of flame stopped him from reaching for the crossbow. Instead
the man’s hand flew to the medallion that dangled just below his collar. The nimbus sprang to life and the flame averted
but Darrun chortled with glee as he flew out of range of the crossbow. Not a wizard. A protective spell. There were many
amulets of protection in Papa’s pile of knightly leftovers. Amulets were a finite resource. Darrun flew to the peaks and
began casting every loose boulder he could find. He hoped his own strength would outlast the amulet.
Every time the rocks stopped falling, the human crept higher. From Darrun’s position he could see the road to the north.
The skies were still empty but the road was crowded with an army of humans. Papa always told him wisdom was the
better part of valor. Perhaps it was time to take his sister and flee. Oddly enough, the human was looking nervously over
his shoulder at the oncoming troops. His agitation increased as they grew close enough that even the human would be able
to make out the banner of the red dragon flying above the lead horse. He clasped his hand around the medallion and
climbed faster, maintaining a steady glow and ignoring the boulders falling at him.
He paused every now and then to fire a bolt at Darrun. When the glow of the amulet flickered Darrun redoubled his
efforts. The human crawled over the ledge of the lair and walked to the mound of rocks Papa had placed over Mother. He
sniffed once and turned up the hill again. He fired two more bolts, but when he reached for a third, his hand came away
empty.
The other humans were traveling down the trail to the pasture. Two of them opened the gates and the rest filed through.
Not one of them reached for a weapon and Darrun thought maybe he would survive this day. Midway across the pasture
they fanned out and halted. Darrun turned his attention back to the immediate enemy. With no more bolts for the
crossbow Darrun launched himself at the human.
“My god protects me!” it shrieked and clasped the medallion harder.
Darrun landed a hundred feet uphill. “If your god protects murderers, then he is doomed to failure.”
Maybe the human couldn’t understand his words. Maybe he knew the protection of the amulet was at an end. Maybe the
roar that carried Darrun’s words was unintelligible but the anger the sound conveyed was unmistakable. He gripped his
sword, but his knees trembled and he turned to flee. After having been harried all night, and with an army camped on his
doorstep, Darrun was not inclined to generosity. He took two small hops that placed him less than ten feet from the man.
The second hop ended with a burst of flame that incinerated the human.
Darrun was weary with the effort of casting rocks down the hillside. He glanced back at the army, only two riders had
moved. The one bearing the dragon standard, and the tall yellow-haired man beside him. Darrun prepared to take flight. He
had left Marana alone too long, and with responsibility for her he could not take on an army. Not even if he thought he
could win. Which he couldn’t.
“Darrun, wait!”
Darrun’s head whipped around, how did this human know his name. He obviously knew Darrun could understand his
language as well. Darrun teetered out on the ledge in front of the lair and looked at the human, terrified that Papa had taken
human form and left him alone to raise his sister. But this man was pale. If Papa had taken human form would he not be
black? Mama had been a red dragon and her hair had been red in her human form. “Who are you?” He called down the
mountain.
“I would talk to you. Your father sends his greetings and asks that you show Marana to me.”
“Papa? Is he...” Darrun didn’t want to say it. Saying it might make it true.
“He’s fine. One of the men he was tracking managed to put a bolt through his wing. My chirugeon stitched it up and he
will be fine but he could not fly without doing more damage. He was confident you could deal with the one that returned,
but I told him I would come and offer my help. It was unneeded.”
Darrun leaned forward more and dropped from his perch. The stranger stood his ground watching him come but Darrun
wasn’t ready yet to trust this man. Wings snapping open he soared back to the sky but he yelled back at the man. “You
may climb. No others.”
He flew to the grassy patch where he had left Marana. She was screaming. She sounded angry. Probably hungry. Too
young to understand he’d been a bit busy trying to save her life. He looked around and saw another rabbit. There was
plenty of time. The human would be climbing for awhile. He snatched the rabbit and dropped it in front of Marana. She
rolled on her stomach and stuck her face in the furry corpse. Fangs protruded from her upper lip. She was changing fast.
The tiny scales on her ankles and wrist had spread. They could no longer be mistaken for a rash. Mother must have
known it was going to happen quickly. That must be why she’d been bringing her to Papa.
When Marana was finished, he scooped her up and carried her back to the lair to watch once again as a man climbed the
mountain. He tucked Marana into his wing and lay there resting from his long night. A quarter of the way up the slope the
man removed his cloak. Half way up, he left his armor. The army of men waiting below gasped in dismay as he placed his
weapon on the ground and continued on.
He stayed at the edge of the lair.
Darrun watched in weary caution. “What do you want?”
The human wiped sweat from his brow and sat back on a boulder. “Your father said he buried your mother under a heap
of rocks.”
“What is it to you?”
The blue eyes turned to the heap where Mother lay buried on the slope that had taken her first life. “My name is Rolun and
she was my wife. You did me a favor by executing her killer.”
That’s why he smelled familiar. This was Marana’s father. “Did you know what she was?”
His hand ran over his chin, unlike many humans he grew no hair there. Water dimmed the blue eyes “I did. After I
‘rescued’ her from your father I was determined to impress her and win her heart. I decided that killing the dragon who
had stolen her would be the way to do it. Fortunately, I told her this before I set out on such a foolish quest. She didn’t
stop laughing for hours. Then she told me I had been permitted to rescue her because she could no longer live where she
chose to, and if I was to go after Kallun, I would die.”
Darrun couldn’t help but like this human. “Why did these men kill her?” Darrun poked at the crispy remains.
“She warned me that any child she bore had as good a chance of being a dragon as a human. But I am king of this land
and my people clamored for an heir so we decided it was worth the risk. She was certain that if the child turned out to be
dragon, that Kallun would raise it as though it were his own. Marana looked completely human when she was born and the
people rejoiced but when she started to change, the priests said she was possessed by a demon and wanted to kill her.”
The moisture in his eyes rolled down his cheeks. “I could not tell them their queen was a dragon and so we arranged to
bring the child here, but some of the priests got wind of the plan and hired mercenaries to make sure Marana died.”
“Have you done anything about the ones responsible for Mother’s death?” Darrun wasn’t at all sure about the workings of
the human world. He knew that the king was their ruler and technically that made Marana a princess, but he didn’t know
what that would mean to anybody.
“The priests have been imprisoned.”
“Not slain?”
“I cannot just do that.”
“They killed Mother. Perhaps they didn’t fire the arrow but they paid to have it done.”
“They will die for that, but it is not so easy for me. They have their following and I will need to prove they did this. I
convinced your father to leave one of the mercenaries alive, and I will need to take Marissa’s body to prove she was killed
by an arrow.”
“Then they will die?”
The yellow hair bobbed when he nodded. “Then they will die.”
Darrun nodded to the pile of rocks. “You have correctly guessed, Mother is buried there. You may have four men come
get her if it will make certain these men die.”
“And Marana?”
“She is safe.”
“May I see her?”
Darrun felt the tiny bit of warmth nestled in his wing and was reluctant. “She has changed much in the past day.”
“I expect it. I wouldn’t have sent her here if I didn’t think she would change completely. I would like to be able to visit her
as she grows. As of now she is still the heir to my crown, and with the likes of yourself and your father to enforce it, few
will argue her right.”
“You would expect her to change? To give up thousands of years of life?”
Rolun shook his head. If it comes down to it, she may rule as she chooses. But to keep my people happy I will take
another wife at the end of a mourning period and hopefully have another heir before it becomes necessary for her to
choose between dragon or human form.”
Darrun stretched his wings and jostled Marana from her warm pocket to the ground. Rolun picked her up and she licked
his chin, wriggling as though happy to see him. He ran a finger over her fangs and traced the scales on her ankles. She
stretched an arm around his neck and he saw the membrane of her wings, it was turning from transparent to pink. “She is
eating?”
Darrun considered his word choice carefully. “You would not approve of her meals but she is eating. She could use some
warm furs until her scales come in. We can provide her with skins but with no way to cure them they will go bad. There
are a few things you humans are better at.”
“They will be provided. Would you object to a nursemaid being installed at the farm below?”
“What would she do for her?”
“Until the change is complete she can care for her. Keep her warm. Make sure she has enough to eat. And most
importantly keep me apprised of her health.”
“I can do all those things. I am her brother.”
King Rolun leaned back and considered Darrun. “So you can. Would you come to report her health to me in Carannas?”
Darrun lifted his wings. Wingtip to wingtip he was nearly thirty feet. Nowhere near Papa’s size but probably still enough
to frighten a city full of humans. “That would not be wise.”
Rolun nodded. “Your mother spoke of you often. She taught me to understand your language because she hoped I would
have the chance to meet you and I am glad she did. You will one day be as wise as she was. I will leave a man here.
Marana’s care will be your responsibility, but you must let him know how she fares.”
Smoke wreathed Darrun’s head and the collective gasp from below was audible once again. The rumble of laughter that
accompanied the smoke was not lost on the king. “When will Papa return?”
“He will not be able to fly for several more days without risk of tearing the wing worse.”
Darrun eyed the cattle below. “Will you pay the humans who live here for some of their cattle? I must have something to
sustain myself and Marana until Papa returns.”
“Consider it done.”
“Two will be enough.” Probably more than enough but Darrun decided to err on the side of caution.
King Rolun nodded then beckoned to his soldiers below. He held up four fingers then pointed to the front row of men.
They dismounted, removed their armor and weapons and began the long climb to the lair. When they arrived Rolun pointed
to the mound of rocks. “Recover your queen’s body.”
Without question they did as they were told, muttering as the shifting rocks revealed the arrow that had killed her. Until
then the tension in their movements was such Darrun could nearly feel it. With proof the dragon hadn’t killed her, they
relaxed.
“I’m sorry I am too small to carry so much weight or I would help.”
The men did not understand him but the king did. “After what we’ve put you and your father through, I would not ask it.
It is more than I could hope for that you will tend Marana.”
The men finished their grisly chore and carried the body down the side of the mountain. The king gave Marana back to
Darrun and assured him the cattle he was to have would be cut out of the herd before nightfall and then he too was gone.
With the king returned and the body recovered, the soldiers turned their horses and before long the pasture was empty.
Darrun understood Papa a lot better now. Having met the king, he was even willing to admit, not all humans needed killing.
One of the farmers came out and looped ropes around the necks of two of the younger cattle and tied them to the trees at
the end of the pasture, away from the herd. Darrun watched the human leave, scooped up Marana and took her down to
feed. With both their appetites sated he carried her back to the lair and curled up to await Papa’s return. Peace fell over the
pasture, so like it had been yesterday. Marana wiggled. And yet so very different. He had defended his home and his sister.
He had survived an attack by a paid killer who possessed weapons and magic.
He was not foolish enough to think himself invincible, but as Marana settled into a nap he couldn’t help but be proud.
fun, his tail would be blackened for a week.
Don’t make the humans angry. Papa was a wimp. Humans were piteously weak creatures. Why Papa went out of his way
to appease them, Darrun would never figure out. Rumor had it; the great Kallun had even rescued a human once. Humans
never lifted a finger to help Kallun when his mate had died in an avalanche.
Darrun’s head drooped, his scales dulled from the hunting gleam they’d taken on. Mama had died saving him. And then
Kallun had been straddled with an infant son. Small wonder he’d taken to dealing with the humans. Darrun wished he
could remember if the humans had ever been any help to himself or Papa. If they had, maybe Papa’s complacency toward
them was explicable.
But Darrun was only ten years old. Just out of the nest and able to fly on his own, on those rare occasions Papa trusted
him enough to let him out of sight. He couldn’t be expected to remember things that had happened when he was a toddler.
His stomach rumbled and the gleam returned to his blue scales as he watched the herds.
He crept out of the nest and perched upon a boulder, wondering if he could make a kill and return before Papa got back.
Motion caught his eye in the line of oak trees that surrounded the field. Wild game! Papa wouldn’t get upset if he fed
himself on boar. He watched for the motion to happen again and saw there was more than one creature moving in the
forest. He opened his wings and flapped them, stretching and warming. He’d only flown without Papa a few times. His
wings were strong though. The warm winds slid over the tough membranes between the ridges as though urging him to
fly. A shrill cry reached his ears and he imagined one of the creatures below was a hunter. It was taking his prey. Of
course, it would make a more exciting catch than a rabbit. He wished they’d come out of the trees so he could see if they
were worth going after.
Then again, no rabbit had ever shrieked loud enough for him to hear it in the lair, it had to be bigger.
Darrun’s talons dug into the stone and he leaned into the thermals. With a flap of his seven foot wings he released the
ledge and was airborne. He climbed higher, enjoying the rush of wind over his body. His meandering path circled lazily
until he was over the tree line. The view from above was, if anything, worse than the oblique view from the lair. The
crowns of the big oak trees concealed the inhabitants below.
He circled lower and was surprised to hear panicked human voices.
“Dragon!”
“Let’s get out of here!”
“But she’s not...”
Two sets of hoofbeats fled north. Darrun settled lower preparing to land in the field and a third rider hurried after his
friends. Papa would be angry if he chased the humans so Darrun decided to take their kill. Blood scent rose to his nostrils.
Something was bleeding and he didn’t really care what it was. He was hungry.
Extending his hind legs, he settled gently to the ground, wings stirring the dried leaves of the past winter. Light green buds
blossomed on the trees. He shivered as he felt the chill of the damp ground. A breeze carried the scent to him and his long
forked tongue twined itself around his front tooth and flicked grit from his nostril. He turned to follow the wondrous
aroma to its source.
He snaked his way through the trees until he found his meal. Disappointment rose as he realized it was a human. He
prodded it with a talon and it rocked back and forth but made no motion on its own. Darrun was reasonably sure it was
female. It was curled on its side. One of the human’s tiny sticks protruded from its midsection. His excitement rose. It
was still warm. Surely Papa wouldn’t care if he ate it. It was already dead. His tongue slipped between fangs and tasted
the blood.
Darrun flapped his wings and reared back in surprise. Pain brought him up short and he furled his wings, rudely reminded
he was in close quarters. He sniffed the body again and flicked his tongue through the blood. He hadn’t been mistaken.
The blood was not human, but dragon. He backed away from the corpse shaking his head in puzzlement. How was such a
thing possible? He looked away from the wound and turned to examine the face of the human. Red hair fell over one sharp
cheekbone. The chin was firm and angular. Dead green eyes were open and staring.
She looked familiar. No matter what her blood tasted like, his eyes insisted she was human, but dead or not, Papa would
not want him eating one of his friends.
What to do? Papa would know. But Papa would never be able to get between the trees. Darrun stretched forward and
gently took her in his mouth; the weight was almost more than he could manage. As he lifted the body, a thin wail arose
and he suddenly noticed what his inspection of the dragon flavored corpse had missed. He placed the morsel gently back
on the ground and considered the new problem. The pack on the human’s back was wiggling and the cries were growing
louder.
This was a problem for Papa. Darrun wished he’d stayed in the lair. He’d managed to do nothing but make a lot more
bother for himself. And he was still hungry. He picked the woman up again making sure the pack was in a position to
retain its occupant and worked his way back to the open field.
Now what? He could barely walk with it. No way was he going to fly back to the lair. Out in the far corner of the field,
the cattle lowed uneasily. Darrun turned to watch the path to the humans’ dwelling. They’d be angry if they found him in
the field with their beasts. They may turn dangerous if they saw him carrying a human corpse. Uneasily he scanned the
sky. Where was Papa?
Darrun hunkered down at the edge of the forest, making himself as small as possible, smoke seeped from his left nostril as
he growled a low croon meant to be soothing to the infant in the pack.
The sun moved across the sky and as the afternoon faded to evening, the cries became louder. Darrun knew exactly why
it was crying. He wanted to cry too. Lack of food would make anybody cry, but he didn’t have the slightest idea what to
feed it. As the sun was setting behind the mountain peaks a great shadow flew over the field. Darrun looked skyward and
roared with joy. His roar brought Papa around in a slow circle and Darrun moved away from the edge of the field and
flapped his wings to catch Papa’s attention.
“Are you injured?” Concern deepened Papa’s voice.
“No.” Darrun answered.
“Why are you down here?” Papa’s immense form circled lower over the pasture.
“I was going to hunt in the forest, and I found something.”
“Found something?” An ominous flame accompanied Papa’s response.
Shadows hid the woman’s body but the infant chose that moment to mewl again.
Papa furled his wings and freefell to a position just overhead, where his wings snapped open and he settled gently beside
Darrun. He dropped the carcass of a deer and turned his head to follow the sound and the scent of blood.
Darrun tore into the deer but stopped with his mouth full as his father’s voice rose in a cry of anguish. No worry about
the humans now. They wouldn’t come out of their houses until daylight with Papa in an uproar. Darrun swallowed the
mouthful of venison and hunkered down as his father turned on him. “Did you kill her?”
Darrun squeaked, choking on his own smoke as he tried to make himself disappear. “No Papa.”
“What happened?”
“Three men ran away when I circled over the forest.”
“On foot?”
“They had horses.”
“Which direction did they go?”
Darrun pointed to the north.
“How long ago?”
“Mid-afternoon.” Darrun knew better than to offer up any excuses or more information than Papa was asking for.
Papa’s voice lowered to a rumble. “You stayed with her the whole afternoon.”
“Yes Papa. The creature in the pack making the racket...it’s a baby isn’t it?”
Papa’s tongue flipped open the top of the pack and drew out a small wriggling shape. He laid the human child on the pack
and licked it up one side and down the other. Oddly enough the wailing stopped.
Darrun looked at the scrap of meat. It was pale except for the backs of its hands and the tops of its feet where it seemed
to be covered with a rash, almost as bright red as its mother’s hair.
“Should we take it to the humans?”
Papa shook his head. “They would kill her, as they did her mother.”
“Papa?”
“Yes, Darrun?”
“I know I shouldn’t have, but when I realized the human was dead...” Papa frowned at him and Darrun almost lost his
nerve. Curiosity urged him to risk Papa’s anger. “I thought just a small taste...”
Papa’s head whipped to the corpse, “You did not!” His anger was overwhelming.
Darrun hunkered down on one side, his neck curled under a wing, hoping Papa’s anger would pass. Voice muffled by the
thick membranes of his wing, he said, “I did not. I only licked the wound. Why does her blood taste the same as mine?”
Papa’s growl was under control and Darrun dared to lift his wing. Smoke wreathed his father’s head but the gleam of
anger was already fading. “I should have explained to you a long time ago but it hurt to talk about it.” His black scales
faded to a muddy brown color.
Darrun had never seen Papa so morose.
Papa’s tongue curled around the pink slug looking child. He lifted it and carried it to where he had dropped the deer.
Darrun was surprised when the thing rolled over and extended a long tongue to lap at the blood where Darrun had already
torn it open. Papa licked the younglings flesh, smoke wreathed his head and the pink thing paused in its eating long enough
to wriggle in what looked like delight.
When it was done eating, Papa pushed it toward Darrun. “I will carry your supper and your mother’s body. You must
carry your sister.”
“My...sister?”
“I will explain, but we must return to our home before the humans become brave enough to return to kill Marana.”
“Marana?”
“That is what your mother wanted to name you, had you hatched female. I’m sorry for my anger. You did well to save
your sister.”
“She was lucky the trees prevented them from seeing how small I am.”
Papa snorted flame. He didn’t try to restrain the humor that sliced through his anger and melancholy. “Your mother would
have been proud of you.”
It was silly, really, but Darrun stood prouder and his scales gleamed brilliantly in the last rays of sun. He had never known
his mother but the thought that she would have been proud of him caused him to preen.
He reached his tongue toward the child -- toward Marana -- and wrapped it gently around her midsection. He opened his
mouth and settled her between his fangs. Papa was watching. He used every bit as much care as though he were carrying
an egg. Papa had told him once that carrying the egg that had become Darrun to the heated caves to mature had been the
most important thing he’d done in his fifteen hundred years.
Darrun flapped his wings several times and leapt from the ground. Papa snatched up the two corpses and followed after,
achieving flight with a single great sweep of his wings.
The child lay still while he flew and Darrun worried that maybe he had killed his sister. But how could this thing be his
sister. She had no wings or claws, not even a tail. That rash might have been a few scales and her tongue had dragon
qualities. But still...His mother a human?
At the lair he put the infant down on a bit of fur leftover from a kill, relieved that it wriggled as he lowered it to the ground.
Papa had circled higher to give him time to take care of his burden before swooping in to land behind him. He placed the
corpses on the ground then picked up the human and carried her to a dip in the ground a hundred yards from the entrance
of the cave. He was quiet as he covered the body with rocks. Darrun attacked the corpse of the deer, glad Marana had
only wanted a little blood.
He finished his meal about the same time Papa finished his task. As Darrun cleaned his fangs, Papa shuffled back. “I’m
sure you want an explanation. Your senses tell you the truth but you don’t believe it. That is because you are young and
there are many things you do not yet know.”
“It doesn’t have wings Papa. How can it live with us?”
Papa’s tongue curled over the infant’s wrist. “Touch her here.”
Darrun touched the same spot and found his earlier guess had been correct. The red patches were tiny scales.
Next Papa’s tongue wrapped around a tiny arm and lifted it away from the body. Fine, nearly transparent webbing
stretched from the elbow to the hip.
“She is changing.” Papa whuffed a huge cloud of smoke and the child giggled. “What I’m about to tell you is not
something young dragons learn until they’re fifty years old and ready to move out on their own, usually.”
Darrun perked up. An adult secret. Papa was going to tell him an adult secret.
“We live long lives.”
Well that was hardly news, but Darrun didn’t dare to voice his comment, Papa might stop.
”And we bear few young.”
Again...not news. He’d asked why he had no brothers or sisters once and Papa had gone into a lengthy explanation how if
they had a lot of young, combined with such a long natural life span, there would be so many dragons there wouldn’t be
enough food for everybody.
“In his wisdom the great god Zorannus saw that three thousand years may become tedious and boring and installed an
escape in the way we live. Many dragons tire of existence before their natural span ends and so we are all given the ability
to transform into a shorter lived species if we wish to end our lives.”
Now this Darrun had not known. “So you’re saying that Mother was so disappointed in me she took her own life? Is it
because I hatched blue?”
“Please let me tell our story before you jump to conclusions. The young are not told this secret exactly because of that self
important, everything’s the end of the world and all about me attitude.”
Chastised, Darrun kept his questions silent and Papa continued.
“It is nearly impossible to die as a dragon, even starvation takes years to actually bring death. But there are injuries that
make us wish we could die. You were less than a year old when the rock slide happened. It was winter and your mother
was tending you outside. The snow was deep and you were having fun romping in it. I had just returned from hunting
when we heard the roar of an avalanche overhead. Even so, it took a few moments too long to realize it would cover our
lair. Marissa snatched you up but it was too late. The snow swept the two of you away.” Papa stopped. His scales
dimmed as he watched the incident again in his mind.
“The snow had huge boulders in it. I despaired of ever finding either of you alive, but as I said, we do not die easily. Five
days later, I did find you. She was wrapped around you, pushed up against a spur. She had melted her way out of the
snow but the damage was done. She had broken her leg and her upper fangs were shattered, but the wings were the worst
they had been decimated; the bones crushed by boulders, the membranes punctured and then frozen. Her other injuries
would heal but she would never fly again. I told her I would bring her food but she said you were more important, and
though I loved her, I knew she was right. We had both lived more than half our normal spans. You were our greatest
accomplishment, our future.”
Papa stared at the pile of rocks for so long Darrun thought the tale might be at an end. That Papa was leaving it up to him
to fill in the blanks, but then with a heavy sigh accompanied by flame, he continued, “She limped her way through the rest
of winter but on the first nice day she transformed. The process heals all injuries...”
“Why didn’t she change back then?”
“Because it does not work that way. Another reason for hiding this from the very young and angst ridden. They generally
fail to comprehend that transformation is irreversible. You can’t decide you want to end it all and then change your mind.”
”But she didn’t want to end it all.”
“That doesn’t change the rules of our nature. At any rate she chose a human form, only to quickly realize that such a form
was not good for life in the outdoors with no clothes and no blankets. We used skins and she stayed on during the
summer but when it started to get cold again we knew she would have to leave. Move down with her own kind. I scouted
out a chivalrous knight and we made a big production of me kidnapping her. I led him a merry chase but eventually
allowed him to win the fair maiden. He was as smitten with her as I was, and I was glad to hear they married. I planned to
raise you and then join her. By that time her husband would have passed on through natural age. Even in our transfigured
forms we mature more slowly she would have still been alive in fifty years.”
“Then why is she dead Papa?”
Kallun’s muzzle stretched to the heights. The roar of anger and pain that erupted from his throat was accompanied by a
blue flame. Darrun had never seen Papa so angry. “Because they are superstitious fools. She obviously gave birth to the
knight’s child and he couldn’t accept its strange appearance. Rather than let her go, he must have decided to kill her. Or
perhaps he decided to kill the child and she would not let him.”
“What will we do with Marana, Papa? Will she be able to live here? Is she changing, or will she stay like she is?”
Papa licked the side of Darrun’s throat, an affectionate gesture he had not done in two years. “You ask very good
questions. I only wish I knew the answers to them. We will have to keep her warm tonight. Tomorrow I will seek out
those who killed your mother and take from them enough supplies to keep Marana warm for some time.”
Papa walked back to the heap of stones that covered Mother, and lay down with his nose pressed against the rock,
breathing her in one final time.
Darrun turned to the thing Papa was claiming was his sister...half-sister, and picked her up, depositing her in the pliable
folds of his left wing and tucking the wing close to his body. Fed and warm she curled up and continued to sleep.
With the first rays of sunshine Papa took wing the next morning. Darrun watched him circle the forest edge, and knew he
was catching the scent of the humans who had hunted down his mate. Papa circled low over the forest three times then
turned north. The wind from his wings bent tree tops and raised dust clouds as he streaked off in the direction the humans
had gone. Darrun shivered, glad that anger was not for him.
Marana awoke crying. And stinking. Gingerly Darrun lifted her from the fold of his wing and dangled her in the air. What
was he supposed to do with her? She was wearing a fur wrapped around her lower half. That’s where the stink rose
from. If she was full dragon he’d clean her with a blast of fire, but humans tended to be rather susceptible to burning. He
raised his front foot and slipped the tip of a talon between the soft flesh and the fur. As the fur fell away he flipped it over
the ledge as far from the lair as possible. The stink still clung to Marana. He turned to the pool that collected rainwater and
splashed some to a separate dip then dunked the child in it. It came away fresh and clean but squalling louder than ever. If
any humans came to tend the cattle today they may hear her and decide to do something foolish, like try to rescue the
baby.
Darrun brought her back into the fold of his wing and the crying settled to hiccupping sobs as she warmed up again.
There was still the matter of food. Darrun wished he hadn’t eaten the whole deer carcass last night. He needed to find
something for her to eat. Something with a warm hide to wrap her in. A sheep would be good. If he could find a young
one he might even be able to carry it back here. But what to do with Marana?
There was a sheep farm to the south, a good distance from the lair. Yesterday Papa would have frowned on him killing
one of the humans’ creatures. Today he didn’t think it would matter so very much. Unless he considerably missed his
guess, at least three humans would fall under Papa’s talons and teeth today. The problem was carrying Marana and the
lamb. He couldn’t carry both and he knew Papa would be angry if he left the child alone. Maybe he should just feed her
and worry about the skin after Papa came back. Papa might even have some of the humans’ belongings when he returned.
Then it wouldn’t be necessary to wrap her in a hide.
Darrun turned his attention to the tree line watching for movement from anything other than the cattle. After an hour it
happened, a flicker at the edge of the trees. Whatever it was was small, probably a rabbit. He picked up the child and
cradled her between his fangs then climbed out on the ledge, watching below. When the motion repeated, he dove off the
rock and plummeted toward the ground, snapping his wings open just as his claws grasped the tiny bit of fur. He
struggled to regain balance and flew back to the lair, his scales shone with the thrill of the kill and when he deposited
Marana beside the rabbit he was pleased when she ate greedily from the somewhat mangled corpse. He was tempted to eat
what was left when she curled up and went back to sleep but realized that since the killers had a night’s head start, Papa
may be gone awhile chasing them down.
Then again they might not run that far. The one at least, had seemed determined to make sure the woman and child were
dead. How could they possibly know that killing her would have angered a dragon enough he would chase them down? At
any rate, just to be safe, Darrun left the rabbit in the shade of a rock, waiting for Marana’s next cry of hunger.
He watched the skies for Papa’s return and as the sun moved overhead, Darrun grew impatient. The child had awakened
twice more to feed, and he had had to move it several times to keep it in the sun and out of its own filth. He was too
young for this responsibility. Maybe Papa could kidnap somebody to care for the baby.
Darkness fell and Darrun began to grow concerned for Papa. He should have been back. Darrun turned his eye to the field
below. His hunger wasn’t that great, the deer from yesterday would hold him another two days if necessary but it wouldn’
t hurt to watch for opportunities. Just in case something terrible had happened to Papa. With the cool of the evening, he
returned Marana to his wing and tucked his nose into the membrane allowing his breath to add warmth to the pocket she
lay in. In the middle of the night, motion woke him. He turned his gaze to the moonlit sky, hoping to see Papa, then
realized that below him in the field one of the human’s was moving across the open pasture. The scent of pitch
accompanied him. He had just put a torch out.
Darrun perked up an ear, no hoofbeats. This man was on foot. Surely he didn’t think he could approach a dragon’s lair
unnoticed. Then again Papa was always telling tales about knights venturing up to the lair and offering themselves as
sacrifices. Well that’s what they ended up being anyway. The pitch tickled Darrun’s nostrils but he inhaled deeply and
attached the human’s stench with the third to leave after killing Mother yesterday.
Papa wouldn’t have all the fun, anticipation gripped him. Darrun unfurled his wing and lifted Marana to her scrap of fur.
As he pulled her from the warm membranes she squalled and the human below stopped. Darrun was tempted to shake
Marana again, just to make certain the human knew where she was. Then he could attack after the human was weary
from the climb up the mountain. But that would put it too close to Marana.
Darrun shifted rocks to the front of the lair, just to make sure there was no way for Marana to roll out of her fur and out
of the lair. He licked Marana as Papa had and she calmed down again. He crept to the ledge at the front of the lair and
waited for the human to move again.
The moon glinted off metal below. Armor. Papa had a stack of armor at the back of the lair. Darrun wished for a full
moon instead of a half. With enough light he could make out what sort of weapons the man was carrying. Most likely he
had a bow; that was what killed Mother. Silence and speed would be needed. Hopefully he could strike before the man had
time to aim.
Darrun waited until the human was in the middle of the field then repeated his tactic for catching the rabbit. As he
plummeted from the ledge he noticed the human had stopped. A crossbow was aimed straight up as though the man had
been anticipating him. Darrun rolled to the side narrowly avoiding the quarrel, then he extended his wings and stopped the
freefall, gaining height slowly wishing for the thermals of the daytime.
He didn’t have to look to know the human would reload the crossbow. Papa had taught him the dangers of the human
weapons. When he was sure he was out of reach, Darrun circled, assessing the problem, reluctant to return to the lair and
show the human where Marana was. He began moving again. Darrun was aware that the moon displayed his every move,
without surprise on his side it would be difficult to get close to an armed and armored human. If he was mature he
wouldn’t worry about the crossbow bolts but his young scales weren’t hard enough to deflect them yet.
The cattle at the far end of field lowed, a small sound that grew as one after the other caught the nervousness caused by a
hunting dragon. It wasn’t them he was hunting but Darrun decided to use that animal fear. He swooped down at the far
end of the field and stampeded the cattle toward the human. It amazed Darrun to see a blue nimbus form around the
human and the herd of cattle part around him, leaving him undamaged.
A wizard! Papa had told him wizards weren’t warriors but this one was armed with weapons and magic. And he was
continuing his straight course across the pasture toward the lair. He obviously knew where it was. Or perhaps he was
somehow tracking Marana but there was little point to Darrun remaining aloft and wearing himself out. He flew back and
lifted his sister from her nest of fur. She stretched her arms and flapped her wings. Darrun wished they were complete
enough wings to make flight possible but he knew if Papa didn’t return soon he’d be protecting her and fighting for both
their lives. He watched the armored man come to the lower slope of the mountain.
With care, the human climbed the steep slope. Darrun dislodged boulders but every time he sent one rolling down, the blue
nimbus flared and the boulder jumped harmlessly aside. The man climbed higher and Darrun increased his attacks. He
thumped the ground with his tail, wishing it was a full and proper adult tail. A couple of smacks would bring too many
boulders for the wizard to shield from them all.
The moon began to set and during that brief time between moonset and sunrise when it was darkest, the human increased
the speed at which he climbed. Darrun could still track him, but most likely the human thought himself invisible.
By the time the sun rose, the human was near enough to make himself heard. “I only want the demonspawn, dragon. Give
her to me and I’ll leave you be.”
Darrun roared back at him, “That demonspawn is my sister you murderer.”
The human stopped and trembled. Darrun remembered that Papa had said they couldn’t understand dragons the way
dragons could understand their speech. Papa said they all thought dragons were no more than animals incapable of
anything more than instinct. When the roar stopped echoing from the mountainside the human moved forward again and
Darrun dislodged yet more rocks. The fifth rock burst through the nimbus of light and glanced off the human’s forearm.
Darrun wished he’d aimed it better. He hoped it meant the man was tiring. Two more rocks bounced harmlessly off the
shield and Darrun decided it was time for a retreat. He picked up his sister, cradled her in his jaw and scrambled for the
peaks, unwilling to risk the crossbows accuracy by offering a target in flight. Had this man killed Papa? Rage began to fill
Darrun’s mind. Once he was over the peak he took flight, landing near a small depression on the far side of the mountain.
He scouted for wild animals. None were near so he deposited Marana in a grassy swell and took to the air, circling the
long way around the mountain.
As he came up behind the human the man was still shouting. “Bring her back; I can track her blood no matter how far you
take her. I will find her.”
Darrun managed to startle him this time and a quick burst of flame stopped him from reaching for the crossbow. Instead
the man’s hand flew to the medallion that dangled just below his collar. The nimbus sprang to life and the flame averted
but Darrun chortled with glee as he flew out of range of the crossbow. Not a wizard. A protective spell. There were many
amulets of protection in Papa’s pile of knightly leftovers. Amulets were a finite resource. Darrun flew to the peaks and
began casting every loose boulder he could find. He hoped his own strength would outlast the amulet.
Every time the rocks stopped falling, the human crept higher. From Darrun’s position he could see the road to the north.
The skies were still empty but the road was crowded with an army of humans. Papa always told him wisdom was the
better part of valor. Perhaps it was time to take his sister and flee. Oddly enough, the human was looking nervously over
his shoulder at the oncoming troops. His agitation increased as they grew close enough that even the human would be able
to make out the banner of the red dragon flying above the lead horse. He clasped his hand around the medallion and
climbed faster, maintaining a steady glow and ignoring the boulders falling at him.
He paused every now and then to fire a bolt at Darrun. When the glow of the amulet flickered Darrun redoubled his
efforts. The human crawled over the ledge of the lair and walked to the mound of rocks Papa had placed over Mother. He
sniffed once and turned up the hill again. He fired two more bolts, but when he reached for a third, his hand came away
empty.
The other humans were traveling down the trail to the pasture. Two of them opened the gates and the rest filed through.
Not one of them reached for a weapon and Darrun thought maybe he would survive this day. Midway across the pasture
they fanned out and halted. Darrun turned his attention back to the immediate enemy. With no more bolts for the
crossbow Darrun launched himself at the human.
“My god protects me!” it shrieked and clasped the medallion harder.
Darrun landed a hundred feet uphill. “If your god protects murderers, then he is doomed to failure.”
Maybe the human couldn’t understand his words. Maybe he knew the protection of the amulet was at an end. Maybe the
roar that carried Darrun’s words was unintelligible but the anger the sound conveyed was unmistakable. He gripped his
sword, but his knees trembled and he turned to flee. After having been harried all night, and with an army camped on his
doorstep, Darrun was not inclined to generosity. He took two small hops that placed him less than ten feet from the man.
The second hop ended with a burst of flame that incinerated the human.
Darrun was weary with the effort of casting rocks down the hillside. He glanced back at the army, only two riders had
moved. The one bearing the dragon standard, and the tall yellow-haired man beside him. Darrun prepared to take flight. He
had left Marana alone too long, and with responsibility for her he could not take on an army. Not even if he thought he
could win. Which he couldn’t.
“Darrun, wait!”
Darrun’s head whipped around, how did this human know his name. He obviously knew Darrun could understand his
language as well. Darrun teetered out on the ledge in front of the lair and looked at the human, terrified that Papa had taken
human form and left him alone to raise his sister. But this man was pale. If Papa had taken human form would he not be
black? Mama had been a red dragon and her hair had been red in her human form. “Who are you?” He called down the
mountain.
“I would talk to you. Your father sends his greetings and asks that you show Marana to me.”
“Papa? Is he...” Darrun didn’t want to say it. Saying it might make it true.
“He’s fine. One of the men he was tracking managed to put a bolt through his wing. My chirugeon stitched it up and he
will be fine but he could not fly without doing more damage. He was confident you could deal with the one that returned,
but I told him I would come and offer my help. It was unneeded.”
Darrun leaned forward more and dropped from his perch. The stranger stood his ground watching him come but Darrun
wasn’t ready yet to trust this man. Wings snapping open he soared back to the sky but he yelled back at the man. “You
may climb. No others.”
He flew to the grassy patch where he had left Marana. She was screaming. She sounded angry. Probably hungry. Too
young to understand he’d been a bit busy trying to save her life. He looked around and saw another rabbit. There was
plenty of time. The human would be climbing for awhile. He snatched the rabbit and dropped it in front of Marana. She
rolled on her stomach and stuck her face in the furry corpse. Fangs protruded from her upper lip. She was changing fast.
The tiny scales on her ankles and wrist had spread. They could no longer be mistaken for a rash. Mother must have
known it was going to happen quickly. That must be why she’d been bringing her to Papa.
When Marana was finished, he scooped her up and carried her back to the lair to watch once again as a man climbed the
mountain. He tucked Marana into his wing and lay there resting from his long night. A quarter of the way up the slope the
man removed his cloak. Half way up, he left his armor. The army of men waiting below gasped in dismay as he placed his
weapon on the ground and continued on.
He stayed at the edge of the lair.
Darrun watched in weary caution. “What do you want?”
The human wiped sweat from his brow and sat back on a boulder. “Your father said he buried your mother under a heap
of rocks.”
“What is it to you?”
The blue eyes turned to the heap where Mother lay buried on the slope that had taken her first life. “My name is Rolun and
she was my wife. You did me a favor by executing her killer.”
That’s why he smelled familiar. This was Marana’s father. “Did you know what she was?”
His hand ran over his chin, unlike many humans he grew no hair there. Water dimmed the blue eyes “I did. After I
‘rescued’ her from your father I was determined to impress her and win her heart. I decided that killing the dragon who
had stolen her would be the way to do it. Fortunately, I told her this before I set out on such a foolish quest. She didn’t
stop laughing for hours. Then she told me I had been permitted to rescue her because she could no longer live where she
chose to, and if I was to go after Kallun, I would die.”
Darrun couldn’t help but like this human. “Why did these men kill her?” Darrun poked at the crispy remains.
“She warned me that any child she bore had as good a chance of being a dragon as a human. But I am king of this land
and my people clamored for an heir so we decided it was worth the risk. She was certain that if the child turned out to be
dragon, that Kallun would raise it as though it were his own. Marana looked completely human when she was born and the
people rejoiced but when she started to change, the priests said she was possessed by a demon and wanted to kill her.”
The moisture in his eyes rolled down his cheeks. “I could not tell them their queen was a dragon and so we arranged to
bring the child here, but some of the priests got wind of the plan and hired mercenaries to make sure Marana died.”
“Have you done anything about the ones responsible for Mother’s death?” Darrun wasn’t at all sure about the workings of
the human world. He knew that the king was their ruler and technically that made Marana a princess, but he didn’t know
what that would mean to anybody.
“The priests have been imprisoned.”
“Not slain?”
“I cannot just do that.”
“They killed Mother. Perhaps they didn’t fire the arrow but they paid to have it done.”
“They will die for that, but it is not so easy for me. They have their following and I will need to prove they did this. I
convinced your father to leave one of the mercenaries alive, and I will need to take Marissa’s body to prove she was killed
by an arrow.”
“Then they will die?”
The yellow hair bobbed when he nodded. “Then they will die.”
Darrun nodded to the pile of rocks. “You have correctly guessed, Mother is buried there. You may have four men come
get her if it will make certain these men die.”
“And Marana?”
“She is safe.”
“May I see her?”
Darrun felt the tiny bit of warmth nestled in his wing and was reluctant. “She has changed much in the past day.”
“I expect it. I wouldn’t have sent her here if I didn’t think she would change completely. I would like to be able to visit her
as she grows. As of now she is still the heir to my crown, and with the likes of yourself and your father to enforce it, few
will argue her right.”
“You would expect her to change? To give up thousands of years of life?”
Rolun shook his head. If it comes down to it, she may rule as she chooses. But to keep my people happy I will take
another wife at the end of a mourning period and hopefully have another heir before it becomes necessary for her to
choose between dragon or human form.”
Darrun stretched his wings and jostled Marana from her warm pocket to the ground. Rolun picked her up and she licked
his chin, wriggling as though happy to see him. He ran a finger over her fangs and traced the scales on her ankles. She
stretched an arm around his neck and he saw the membrane of her wings, it was turning from transparent to pink. “She is
eating?”
Darrun considered his word choice carefully. “You would not approve of her meals but she is eating. She could use some
warm furs until her scales come in. We can provide her with skins but with no way to cure them they will go bad. There
are a few things you humans are better at.”
“They will be provided. Would you object to a nursemaid being installed at the farm below?”
“What would she do for her?”
“Until the change is complete she can care for her. Keep her warm. Make sure she has enough to eat. And most
importantly keep me apprised of her health.”
“I can do all those things. I am her brother.”
King Rolun leaned back and considered Darrun. “So you can. Would you come to report her health to me in Carannas?”
Darrun lifted his wings. Wingtip to wingtip he was nearly thirty feet. Nowhere near Papa’s size but probably still enough
to frighten a city full of humans. “That would not be wise.”
Rolun nodded. “Your mother spoke of you often. She taught me to understand your language because she hoped I would
have the chance to meet you and I am glad she did. You will one day be as wise as she was. I will leave a man here.
Marana’s care will be your responsibility, but you must let him know how she fares.”
Smoke wreathed Darrun’s head and the collective gasp from below was audible once again. The rumble of laughter that
accompanied the smoke was not lost on the king. “When will Papa return?”
“He will not be able to fly for several more days without risk of tearing the wing worse.”
Darrun eyed the cattle below. “Will you pay the humans who live here for some of their cattle? I must have something to
sustain myself and Marana until Papa returns.”
“Consider it done.”
“Two will be enough.” Probably more than enough but Darrun decided to err on the side of caution.
King Rolun nodded then beckoned to his soldiers below. He held up four fingers then pointed to the front row of men.
They dismounted, removed their armor and weapons and began the long climb to the lair. When they arrived Rolun pointed
to the mound of rocks. “Recover your queen’s body.”
Without question they did as they were told, muttering as the shifting rocks revealed the arrow that had killed her. Until
then the tension in their movements was such Darrun could nearly feel it. With proof the dragon hadn’t killed her, they
relaxed.
“I’m sorry I am too small to carry so much weight or I would help.”
The men did not understand him but the king did. “After what we’ve put you and your father through, I would not ask it.
It is more than I could hope for that you will tend Marana.”
The men finished their grisly chore and carried the body down the side of the mountain. The king gave Marana back to
Darrun and assured him the cattle he was to have would be cut out of the herd before nightfall and then he too was gone.
With the king returned and the body recovered, the soldiers turned their horses and before long the pasture was empty.
Darrun understood Papa a lot better now. Having met the king, he was even willing to admit, not all humans needed killing.
One of the farmers came out and looped ropes around the necks of two of the younger cattle and tied them to the trees at
the end of the pasture, away from the herd. Darrun watched the human leave, scooped up Marana and took her down to
feed. With both their appetites sated he carried her back to the lair and curled up to await Papa’s return. Peace fell over the
pasture, so like it had been yesterday. Marana wiggled. And yet so very different. He had defended his home and his sister.
He had survived an attack by a paid killer who possessed weapons and magic.
He was not foolish enough to think himself invincible, but as Marana settled into a nap he couldn’t help but be proud.
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