“These celebrations usually end with fireworks. When the first ones go off, stand with your back to the cage. I will reach through and cut the ropes around your hands. Then you can free your legs,” Reldion said.
I hoped he was more accurate on this cultural point than he was on his translations.
I got my answer barely a minute later. The fire vanished as quickly as if a giant had snuffed it out, and the first fireworks exploded out of it in star bursts of green, red, and blue.
Gagging on the putrid smoke, I struggled to my feet. Blue flowers studded with silver formed out of the circle of stones. I fell back against the bars of Reldion’s cage. Icy steel brushed my wrist. I flinched, remembering getting my bangs cut with kitchen scissors as a little girl. In response, Reldion enclosed my wrist in his powerful grip. Now I couldn’t get away if I wanted. The force of his cutting moved my body back and forth; these must be some killer strong ropes!
In the quiet space between crackle, sizzle, boom, and bang, I heard the heavy rope fall. Though I gazed around in wide-eyed terror, the Wilders remained transfixed by the fireworks.
Using the intermittent flashes of light to see, I sat back down to work on freeing my legs.
The rough ropes were much thicker than I’d thought. Maybe they’d been used for pulling wagons if they got stuck. I jerked and pulled and tugged, but the hard knots held fast. I wondered if I would have done better with Reldion’s knife. Finally when I started using my legs to help me, I managed to get one free. It wasn’t exactly a clean break, but I was no Houdini and had more important things to worry about.
Disoriented in the unlit camp, I slipped away from the fire and crept through the maze of whimsical painted houses on wheels, the faded colors and weathered forms softened in the fireworks’ illumination. As much as possible, I kept to one direction. I had to reach the edge at some point! And when the sun rose, I could be certain I was truly free of the Wilders. There was always the possibility that one of the forest animals would tattle on me, but…I couldn’t think of that now, not when I was this close! And speaking of animals, this area smelled somewhat similar to the sad zoo where they’d first brought me. I wondered if I’d managed to make my way back there.
A horse’s neigh almost made me shriek. I drew in my breath, then clapped both hands over my mouth. My heart beat in my ears so loudly I couldn’t hear anything around me. I counted to ten, then to thirty. Nothing happened. A horse, maybe the same one, blew through its nostrils.
I needed light. My stumbling search of the area by feel brought me to a stash of bags. By their leather material and shape, I guessed they were saddlebags. This was so lucky!
I test-lifted the bags, wanting as many provisions as I could carry while still feeling confident I could walk a good distance from the Wilder camp. Finally I chose one and pawed through the others for tinder, flint, and torches made from oily rags and wood. Supplied to my satisfaction, I continued in the direction I’d been traveling. (I’d made careful note of this before exploring the area. I hadn’t gone to all this trouble to end up back by the bonfire.)
Second thoughts came to me as I was leaving the area. I could get away much faster and have better odds of finding the dragon cave on horseback. But…that would be really risky. I still couldn’t mount up on my own.
That was just what I needed: to fall from the horse in the dark and have King Tub nurse me back to health. No, no horses for me.
Wagons gave way to trees. I didn’t wait long to light my torch. I still remembered my fall into the ravine with Faxon in the Latule woods, and Edonai’s terrain was much steeper. I followed the forest’s twists and turns, rises and dips until my legs could take no more. I settled down in the lap of a tree with sprawling, ancient roots and pillowed my head on the saddlebag. Hopefully Reldion would meet up with me soon.
Sunrise took its time during the Other World winters. The farther north Reldion and I had traveled, the longer the nights lasted. And Edonai blocked most of the sunshine with its thick canopy of leaves and twisted branches. I woke disoriented, both about time and where I was.
“Reldion,” I croaked, sitting up and feebly rubbing at the knot in my shoulder blades. Squinting, I looked around. No remnants of a fire, and no Reldion teasing me about how much I slept and how I’d make a fine meal for a hungry woodland beast, probably never waking for the whole ordeal.
Beasts! The Wilder’s comment about King Tub’s pet bear in Reldion’s cage zapped through my mind. How had the flame-haired man fared, I wondered. I hoped he was alright. He’d need some time to find me, I reassured myself before I started worrying. I’d probably traveled a long way from the camp yesterday.
To distract myself, I decided to go through the saddlebag I’d taken with me. I imagined Reldion gloating about how he’d corrupted me, turning me to thievery. Mentally I stuck my tongue out at him.
Inside, I found: rags in faded hues; a water skin; a knife; rope; a small metal hook; gloves; small balls like marbles that reminded me of the “stink bombs” the little boys had played with in elementary school; and paper envelopes containing unknown powders. These would be useful to the wandering Wilder or Wagoner, I was sure, but I didn’t dare use them, not knowing what they were. The food, far less than I’d hoped for, consisted of dried strips of meat and flavorless, leathery fruit.
I still had the knowledge Reldion had given me in the snowfields, I told myself, miraculously staving off panic that way. I could find my own food if need be.
After I’d eaten and repacked, Reldion still hadn’t turned up.
Figuring there was no sense in wasting time, I traveled a short distance from where I had camped until I found a break in the trees that allowed me to see the sky. I cleared some of the snow away to the questionable improvement of mucky ground underneath, and sat down to wait for dragons in the sky and Reldion.
Shadowy day passed into dusk, then darkest night, with no sign of either. I tried to stave off the lump in my throat by finding the best way to chew the saddlebag meat. The object was to successfully break down the meat without hurting my teeth. Eventually I did give up and cried. This was much worse than being lost in Union Station. At least we had cellphones and security guards around to help. Out here, I was completely on my own, and two people I cared about (yes, I did care about Reldion, in an odd way) were in trouble, and I was powerless to help them. If I thought it through, everyone in this world I had come to care about was in danger.
I might have remained lost in my bleak thoughts the entire night if not for the ethereal light that filled the area. Glancing around, I followed it to the break in the trees, then skyward to… “Zellia,” I breathed. I smiled. Zellia wasn’t a flesh and blood person, but I’d seen her so often on this journey, I felt as though she were a friend. Too much more time alone, and I would start talking to her, and to myself by day, just like Reldion.
But, what was this? Zellia seemed to have moved. Usually she occupied the sky straight ahead from Reldion and me, but now she was off to the side. I thought about it for a minute, concluding that my flight from the Wilders camp, to say nothing of getting there, had altered my direction. I took a few minutes to turn my camp to face north. That was better. In the morning, I could continue northward and hunt for dragons. It was doubly lucky I hadn’t gone too far in the hopes of finding Reldion.
I slept well that night. Something about Zellia’s light made me feel protected, much like the nightlight I’d had as a kid.
I’m sure it helped that seeing the star made me remember Fiona’s technique of building a small fire and using elements to keep warm during the night. For a change, I executed the magic without destroying anything (too much).
In the morning, I set off in the direction I’d seen Zellia the night before. I felt downright adventurous, with the saddlebags slung over my shoulder, handfuls of dry fruit in my pockets, a stick of dried meat in hand to be chewed while walking.
By the afternoon, I had to stop. For all the work it took to chew them, the Wilders’ meat and fruit left me hungry, and navigating Edonai on foot took what little energy I had. I’d moved slowly, looking everywhere for streams, edible berries, roots, and plants, but the main thing I longed for was water, after that dry meat and fruit.
As I sat catching my breath and trying to recover my sense of purpose, I had an inspiration. There were no streams around, but what about all this snow? There was probably like zero air pollution in the Other World. I scooped up a handful and hesitated with the icy mass right before my lips. It was silly, I knew. If I’d encountered a stream, I would’ve dunked my whole face, though I knew from survival shows that it was better to scoop from the top.
I brought the snow near my mouth again. Here goes nothing, I thought. I didn’t swallow right away, relying on my tongue as a last defense to tell me this was a huge mistake. I had to admit, it tasted better than Orange County tap water. Several handfuls later, I don’t know if I slaked my thirst, but my mouth and throat were too numb to feel dry.
By the time I felt ready to move on, night had fallen. With Zellia’s help, I corrected my direction and considered my plan for the next day.
In the morning, I sorted through my provisions again. To my dismay, I had cleared out half of the food already. I wasn’t going to last at this rate. Trying to hunt would just waste energy. What could I do? When no answer came to me, I began walking north again, still thinking.
Even if I found food I could gather, it wouldn’t be much. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed a proper meal: some meat, or better yet, some bread from the Valeriya ovens. I fantasized about that for a while.
Eventually I came upon a clearing, the first I’d seen in Edonai. A stream, swift and singing echoes of my joy and relief, cut down the center. I knelt on the bank and shoveled handfuls of cool, clear water into my mouth until I couldn’t feel my lips and cheeks. A shiver ran through my body, of cold and pleasure. Exploring the stream’s path, I discovered watercress and roots, which I gobbled as I found them.
I would spend the night here, I decided.
The next day, I awoke to proper sunlight, clear skies, and birdsong. All brought back longing for California, feelings so deep yet so distant, I’d describe them as nostalgic. Had the birds sung inside the close darkness of the forest? I couldn’t remember. I smiled at their songs, so fresh and sweet, as I searched near the stream for food. As I explored, I came upon old wagon tracks and scattered ashes. Again I thought of Reldion, wondered if we would meet again in this life. Edonai Forest was so vast that even if he managed to escape his captors, it was unlikely that we would come across one another. Still, he had to have some tracking skills in order to hunt that he could use to find me. (I didn’t really know, but I hoped so.) How did the old advice go? When you are lost, stay in one place until someone finds you? In that case, it would be easiest for him if I stayed here at the clearing. It didn’t hurt that there was food, water, and optimum dragon watching.
Little happened in the afternoon. That evening, I saw my first sunset in what felt like forever. The trees around the clearing blocked most of it, but it felt like a real treat to see the sky change from orange to pink to purple. Since I had conserved energy all day, I stayed up a bit to watch the stars come out. They were exquisite: countless dashes of white paint on a midnight blue canvas. And Zellia, which I assumed was the closest, shone like a diamond in a commercial, all points of light and winking facets. As I marveled, something large I couldn’t identify in the dark flew across Zellia. I hardly dared to hope it was the dragon I’d sought so long.
The next morning, I decided to spend the day watching the skies. Previously I had divided my time between the sky and the edges of the clearing, watching for Reldion or Wilders. I hadn’t seen any people, just deer. Since it was winter, I figured the bears were hibernating. Of course, this being the Other World, there were probably some enchanted beasts much scarier than bears that didn’t need to hibernate. I hoped I didn’t encounter any of them; I doubted amateur knowledge of elements and mirror magic would help much.
It felt strange to lean back against a tree and just watch the sky. Today, clouds had moved in. I lost myself in their gloomy patterns; my mind drifted on a sea of vapor and smoke until something dark glided across the smudges and shadows.
Could it be? I got slowly to my feet and looked closer. It was circling, whatever it was, gliding high above the trees. I could still hear the birds scolding, but they had all hidden.
The possible dragon dove groundward, with one flap of doom like a thunderclap. Leaves and branches flew skyward in its wake. Somewhere an animal screamed. Then another explosion of leaves and branches. The creature returned to the sky, a deer clutched in its talons. Blood dripped from the carcass like red rain.
My senses kicked into high gear and took it all in: the black, sinewy snake-like body; the wings and tail; the undeniable power of its flight; the talons that had ended its prey’s life and Gerry’s in my dream.
It was a dragon! No doubt about it!
The rational part of my mind knew this could be any dragon. Who knew how many of them still existed in this world, hidden and unknown?
But then another part of my mind stepped forward. I had my long-awaited sign. I had hoped Reldion would be here when it came, but that couldn’t be helped. This was my chance! I had to pursue.
The dragon’s flight path was to the northeast. I hurried to the edge of the clearing, then stopped and looked back at the sunlight dancing off the ripples in the stream. I could still wait for Reldion, here in the sun, in the sweet open air.
Slowly, I turned back to the trees, towering and forbidding, and returned to the way forward and all its unknowns.
{****}
Well after the dragon disappeared, I continued to pursue. The first night, I took careful note of Zellia’s position, on my left. The second night, I began to wonder if I had acted foolishly after all. The forest scenery never changed, except for the hills, which seemed steeper. I blamed that feeling on imagination and how tired I was from the long, taxing journey.
Too weary and footsore to worry about it for long, I surrendered myself to fate and let myself sleep. Even when I was technically conscious enough to drag myself to my feet, I continued to rest in the somnambulant forest dim.
When I awoke, it felt late. I engaged in what had become my ritual chewing exercise — tough fruit, tougher meat — and debated whether I should go back to sleep.
I could make a little progress, I decided. It might clear some of the fog from my head and make me feel better about this admittedly depressing business.
It turned out to be a good idea. For whatever reason, the trees thinned, to be replaced by boulders and cliff faces as far as I could see. I was too excited by the change of scenery to overthink the practical considerations, at least right away: how I didn’t rock climb; how navigating this maze was going to screw up my direction; and so forth. The thoughts continued their usual worried buzz, but in the back of my mind, at least.
As I ventured further into the rocks, I began to notice cracks and indentations where I supposed wind and weather had worn the stone away. Occasionally, I came across openings big enough and stretching far enough back to count — in my inexperienced opinion — as caves. Most were short enough for the sun to hit the back wall, and there were no other passages branching off around corners. I did light a torch and venture inside one that seemed promising, but it also ended within minutes of exploration.
I would use one of the small caves for shelter tonight, I decided. After my time in Edonai, I felt exposed among these stones. Also, the wind blew chilly here, and I doubted I could find enough wood for a fire.
As the afternoon shadows gave way to twilight, I stopped at a point just before the land sloped sharply downward. I was too tired to figure out a safe way down. Anything I can up with would probably end in raw, scraped hands and sliding down on my butt, which I didn’t feel up for. It had been a long day already, and I had yet to find shelter for the night. Still, I surveyed the area, hoping by committing it to memory, some insight would come to me.
Then I saw it: a dark shape standing sentinel outside the biggest cave mouth I’d seen yet.