And here's part 2. Thanks to Ryx for adding the dream scene.
Part 2 of 2
Metamor Keep: Driven by the Wind
by Charles Matthias and Ryx
Enjoyed the spoils of fishing?
Lindsey lifted his head from the hefty platter
once filled with half-a-dozen cooked fillets. At
first he'd been careful not to eat any of the
bones, but the last three he'd given up and the
final fillet he swallowed in single bite. His stomach still wanted more!
Behind him and just out of reach of his tail was
his older brother in human guise. He'd tied his
long red hair with string to keep loose strands
from catching in the rigging. He combed his
fingers through the end of the bundle as he smiled.
I could have eaten twice as many, Lindsey
admitted as he scraped his claws across the
platter. Could you ask Mogaf to make more? I'll
eat them cold if I must. He glared at his
midsection and then thumped his tail so hard on
the deck a nearby sailor jumped. Why am I so
hungry, Phar? I haven't needed to eat this much since we flew back to Metamor!
Pharcellus laughed and pressed his hands down
either side of his spinal ridge. Lindsey felt the
tension ease with each rub. You are a dragon,
dear brother! The more you fly the more you must
eat. It is why our elders only fly when they
must. You have been flying a great deal these
last few weeks. I am surprised it has taken you
so long to notice the hunger! I will ask Mogaf to
make you a dozen more fillets. Trust me, you will
eat every last one. And tomorrow you will have twice as many again!
Lindsey swung his long neck around, staring down
his snout at the plate empty but for the bones of
the first three fish. Two dozen? Three? Is my stomach so large?
You already ate a deer by yourself! Pharcellus
laughed as he pressed harder. His hands reached
the base of Lindsey's wings and they began to
stretch. Just wait until you enjoy cow roasted with your own flame!
The thought of beef flanks seared with his own
breath made his jaws ache and fangs glisten with
drool. I'm hungry enough already and you taunt
me more! Curse you for having a human form too!
Tell Mogaf... tell him... His tongue lolled from
his snout as his brother's hands worked loose the
tension in his wing muscles. He laid his head
atop the plate, tongue licking the taste of fish
from the last bones. Tell him... more food... after this!
Pharcellus laughed again. Of course brother.
There are so many wonderful things to enjoy when
you are a dragon, are there not?
Lindsey offered no argument as he stretched his
sore wings and all his limbs. His stomach could wait.
----------
The day waned though the wind did not. Even as
the sun neared the sea and the sky bronzed as a
leaf in Autumn the pace aboard Venture Swift
slackened only to catch its breath. The sailors
readied lanterns along the decks and masts while
the first mate took readings of the shoreline for
the captain while they still could see it.
Captain Calenti listened to the man with one ear
while the other and both eyes focused on their guests.
Atop the aft castle the Metamorians gathered in a
wide circle while Malger played a variety of
tunes on his flute. He'd passed out hand-made
instruments to each of the children a drum made
from the remnants of a torn sail and scrap,
finger cymbals made from hammered coins, a tube
of metal for a whistle, and even a pair of rocks
and they played their parts with unbridled
enthusiasm if not much rhythm. But the marten was
skilled enough to wend his tune between their
clanking, banging, and wheezing to bring something enjoyable forth.
Parents and friends clapped hands and paws in a
boisterous march, while Lindsey provided a bass
with regular whumps of his tail. Calenti's foot
tapped in time and eventually his first mate
grumbled and began muttering the numbers to
himself. Malger offered him a swift arpeggio as
he toiled in his evening duties.
A few of the sailors, their duties complete for
the day, joined Calenti in watching the beastly
company. One of them produced an old lute with
two broken strings and sketched a passing
accompaniment to the marten. Malger danced on his
feet toward the older sailor, did a pirouette
without skipping a note, and bobbed his head and
chest in a way no human could have done to invite
the unlikely musician to join him on the deck.
Pharcellus stood moments later and gave a third
melodic voice with a loud whistling both deep and
energetic despite his human guise. Malger's eyes
lifted in surprise and the two proceeded to race
up and down scales as if chasing each other to
see who was fastest. Pharcellus easily glided
between notes as his lips pursed and spread,
tongue clicking against flat teeth to add accents
with each change. Malger's fingers shimmered
above his flute like hummingbirds feasting in a garden.
The sailor with the old lute scowled at both of
them and played several sour notes until marten
and dragon ended their race with a flourish and
capped it with boisterous laughter. The children,
seeing the song was done, started to hit each
other with their instruments until Kimberly and Misanthe chided them.
Who else will join us in our song? The night
begs for music! Malger declared, throwing his
arms outward. Charles, Garigan, Kurgael?
Kurgael, who had been reclining to the far side
of the deck, shook his head forcefully. I've no
ear for music, your grace. I'll listen happily.
If you've anything for us to play, we will!
Quoddy announced. He and his brothers perched on
the gunwale and bobbed back and forth with each
wave. I won't promise we'll sound good.
Tonight is not about sounding good, Malger
assured them. He then offered a wink toward the
sailor. Sometimes sounding bad is the best thing
of all. My good man, if you care to try it, I
brought my own lute with a full set of strings.
You have a good ear; would you care to try it?
Begging your pardon, your grace, but I've used
my own for thirty years and could never play
without it. His hands ran down the wooden casing with a tender pride.
Very well then! Quoddy, Lubec, Machais, I've
nothing for you to play but I imagine you sing
the spirit of the sea! Charles, Garigan, I know
both of you can sing so do so even if you have no
words. And Kurgael, if you are on this deck with
us then you will do something. Fetch him a boat
oar! You can drum it against the gunwale and help
Lindsey keep time. All right now, children are
you ready to play again? He received a chorus of
excited squeaks in reply. Then let us serenade
the night! He laughed in delight as the most awkward sounding serenade began.
Within moments every sailor aboard either stared
in bemused wonder or fled below decks to try to
bury their ears beneath their arms.
----------
He had tried to use one of the hammocks the first
night he slept aboard the Venture Swift, but no
matter how he laid down, Gmork's Prodigal was not
comfortable sleeping in a man-like shape. So he
found a corner in the hold near the stem, and
laid upon a pile of rumpled blankets as a wolf.
His nose wrinkled in disgust at the stink of
man-sweat, fish, tar, and salt. He pushed his
head into the blanket at his forepaws to muffle
the stench; his own musky odor pervaded the
blankets after more than a week of bedding in them and this was comforting.
The snoring of the crew offended his ears but he
had already learned to ignore the more raucous
sound of sleeping Keepers and so he folded back
his ears and put it out of his mind as best he
could. In an hour or so he would relax enough to
sleep through the night. The crew knew not to
venture into his corner one fellow had stumbled
over him while drunk and nearly lost a leg when
Gmork's Prodigal snapped at him with his jaws so he would not be disturbed.
He sighed into the blankets and stretched his
hind legs. His time spent practicing with Charles
had invigorated all of his muscles and for once
the sedentary life forced on him had not let him
sore and anxious. Perhaps tonight he wouldn't
dream of loping through the woods with his father and brothers.
He briefly recalled the young boy, not even quite
a man, from Fjellvidden, his face pock-marked
with warts, who he helped deliver to his father.
A part of him hoped he'd escaped back to his
master the tanner and his fellow apprentices.
Another part hoped he had a new brother. He
trembled and flicked his tail, pressing shut his eyes in horror.
But no matter how he tried, his thoughts always
circled back to his father. He could imagine his
scent and the growl of his voice, and after these
came his golden eyes and gray fur. His heart
ached from absence and a fury seemed to beat
within as if imprisoned. Why can I not hate you, father?
But he didn't and couldn't. He whimpered and
whined for a few minutes, the wolf's only way to
express his sorrow for what he'd become and what
he'd done to his friends, to his brothers, and most especially to his father.
It came unbidden but the voice, guttural yet
gentle, was his father's. I love you, my prodigal.
He lifted his head, ears erect. The snores of the
crew met him. He offered a plaintive whine.
The prodigal returns to his father.
He whined again, lowering his head. He was
Gmork's Prodigal. The prodigal never knew peace
until he returned humbled to his father. He would
be welcomed back with baying and joy. They would
hunt and feast upon a mighty buck.
I am here, my pup. You will always know how to find me.
And he did. Gmork's Prodigal could not put a name
to the place, but he felt the way across the sea
and back north between the mountains into a deep
forest on the edge of man's domain. He wagged his
tail, anxious; he could not cross the seas himself.
I am ready to welcome you home, pup. I am your father. You are mine.
He whined anew and unable to sleep, unable to
face his father, Gmork's Prodigal stepped out of
the blankets and loped up the narrow stairs to
the deck. Starlight blossomed above and the sea
drowned all other scents. He paced back and forth
around the fo'c'sle, panting and alert. He no
longer felt his father's presence, but the terror
of his near-surrender filled him. What would he
have done were they on land the next time he felt
the call? Seven times before he'd felt his
father's voice come to him in the night, but none
had been so powerful as this. What was different?
He wanted to sit on his haunches and lose himself
among the stars, but he was far too anxious to
sit. He knew the night sailors were watching him.
Charles was not on duty yet or surely he would
have come to the wolf's side. Where was Lindsey
or Pharcellus? At least one of the dragons was usually on deck to sleep?
He lifted his nose and a moment's taste of the
air told him. Lindsey reclined on the aft castle.
It also told him of someone else. The pungent flavor of a ferret.
Gmork's Prodigal turned back to the deck stairs
and came snout to snout with Garigan. It was too
dim to read the ferret's face, but his posture
and scent showed worry. Jerome? Are you all right?
He wanted to take on a more man-like shape and
tell him everything he'd just felt, but his paws
and snout remained. A ripple passed through his
pelt and nothing more. He whined, ears back, even as he danced on his paws.
Garigan finished climbing the stairs and then sat
down next to the gunwale, bent over so he almost
seemed a wolf on his haunches. He tipped back his
head and began to sing a wisp of melody. His ears
turned at the music and he felt the anxiety
draining. Gmork's Prodigal stepped to the
ferret's side and after the first verse managed
to sit. He too tipped back his head and howled
the next verse with his fellow Sondecki.
And for a time, lost within the comforting Song
of the Sondeck, he remembered the name his father
stole from him. And he hoped with every beat of
his heart, every cadence of song, and every mote
of the ancient power within him their journey to
Sondeshara would show him the way back to his friends.
His howls turned to song as the fur receded and
his snout withdrew. Fingers emerged and spread
wide. His pelt fell down across his shoulders and
back as a black robe bearing the shield, red
hand, and white sword. His legs and tail
remained, but there was enough of the man even
there he was able to stand upright to finish the
song. Garigan stood with him, his voice rising with the final refrain.
Only when the echoes in their being faded did he
turn to his fellow Sondecki and say, I cannot
sleep alone. I will lose myself if I do it again.
I will not say his name... but can you feel him?
He called to me... He shook his head and cast
his gaze briefly to the north. I fear if I am
separated from you and the others I will run back to him.
Garigan stood an inch taller. I will not leave you, Jerome.
Thank you, but there are two better for this.
You need your sleep too, my friend.
Who?
He smiled, though kept his lips close to hide the
fangs he still had. The dragons. I do not know
why, but his voice is always muted when I am near them.
Garigan nodded and cast a glance at the
aft-castle. In sooth? I wonder why... Even so, I
will stay by your side this night.
Thank you. You know, Garigan, you may have only
known of your Sondecki powers for two years, but
I feel as if you could have been our teacher. Thank you.
Then you and Master Matthias have taught me
well! Come, let's go wake up some dragons!
He could not help but bark a laugh.
----------
The ship was sinking, and there was no land in sight.
The mast was a mere splinter of its former self,
the oars along the port side in a similar state.
Benches were littered with bodies and water was
pouring into the shattered hull making them
float, staining the torrent black with blood.
Bar scrambled away from the flood, hauling
himself toward the higher starboard benches, but
as fast as he went the water seemed to be faster,
lapping at his heels. Despite being crew on ships
for nearly a decade Bar could not swim and the
roaring surge of water sent his heart racing.
But there was one thing moving faster even than
the water turning his fear of drowning into a
keen edged panic he could not escape. Rats! They
surged out of the bilge and hold in a squealing,
hissing mass, their sharp claws clutching and
skittering across the deck. Rats the size of
cats, dogs, even men boiled from the dark hidden
recesses of the ship seeking any buoyancy they
could find as frantically as Bar did. Chests and
bags and boards and oars and bodies bobbed about
in the water, floating away from the stricken
vessel as the bow tipped down for its final, fateful plunge into the abyss.
Rats! Rats everywhere, piling upon everything,
sinking every lifeline as quickly as the boat.
Terror boiled in Bar's breast as he slipped,
falling to the splintered deck, and a wave of
rats surged over him. Drawing breath to shriek
out the last exhortation of life Bar suddenly
found his voice frozen, his eyes gazing upon a
figure clambering up from the flooded hold below.
It was another rat, but not like the monsters
darting hither and fro, over and under and upon
him. No, this rat stood tall, like a man, on two
legs. One side of his face was burned, likely
from the fires of spilled lanterns. In one hand
the rat carried a shattered oar stave which he
used to prop himself up on the listing deck, seemingly unperturbed at its cant.
The other rats, as well, seemed to take note of
his presence; they fled from him in a wave of
suicidal terror, plunging into the water or back
into the flooding depths below. The man-like rat
strode toward Bar, who still lay sprawled upon
the deck now bereft of any but the two of them.
Bracing the broken oar upon the deck the man-rat
extended a hand as knobby and clawed as the rats
he had scattered, Come, it is safe. You need not
fear me. All the while ignoring the blood
blackened water lapping around rodent feet.
Reflexively Bar reached out for the surcease of
offered grasp, his terror of the mundane if
incredibly large rats allayed by their apparent
fear of this rat who was not quite a rat. Strong
fingers grasped his hand, pulling him upright.
Sunlight gleamed upon the water, lifting the boat
upon the crest of a wave and settling it gently
into its trough. Unmanned oars bumped and thunked
in their locks and the sail snapped confidently
in the breeze. The boat sat upon an even kill,
its planks unstained, ready to journey to
wherever the odd rat and lone oarsman might take
it. There is no need to fear us, The man-rat
said with a smile of prominent teeth, black eyes
gleaming. The one side of his face was still
burnt, the only evidence of the scene which had
vanished as unexpectedly as the swarming vermin.
Surprisingly, Bar found he did not fear the
upright rat dressed as a man might dress, a
gleaming staff held in one hand and Bar's hand
within the other. With a last glance down at the
bestial yet strangely human hand within the curl
of his fingers Bar had a momentary wonder at what
there was to fear before he slipped into the void between dreams.
Rat, boat, water, and man faded into the half
images of fading dreams and Malger quirked one
corner of his muzzle in a rueful smile. Such were
the fears of men; rats, water, death, and so many
things manifestly more powerful in the moments of
their dreams. Or nightmares, as Malger had found the oarsman Bar locked within.
Presented with the strangeness come aboard as
passengers on their ship Malger had expected
there to be nightmares, at least at first. For
some they might crop up throughout their journey,
and Malger would be there to steady their resolve
and let them find reassurance in their dreams
rather than fear, for he well knew fear would
persist beyond the dream, beyond sleep. Fear
would fester, and give rise to anger, hatred, and
danger for all on this journey.
I do hope you're not going to keep what I seek
them to know at bay, my Love. A gentle feminine
voice reached his ears, metamorphosing the wry
quirk of his muzzle to a genuine smile. Raising
his eyes Malger found himself looking rather
steeply upward at a dragon of black and silver
equally as large as Charles' scaled friend
Pharcellus when he took on his natural form. Eyes
as deep and black as the night sky, and as
spangled with glimmering starry motes, gazed down at him though not with ire.
Ahh, Mosha my dearest, I know your touch upon a
sleeper's Dream even when I am not tenanting it.
He assured the large beast with a bow and a sweep
of one arm. I am merely smoothing choppy waters
to ensure a pleasant journey for all.
And a safe one. The dragoness rumbled amiably.
For all. Malger's gaze flicked momentarily to
one side though his furry, bewhiskered muzzle did
not turn. Even the most inquisitive. Stepping
forward he raised a hand to touch lightly upon
the dragon's lowered snout. He finds me so easily.
He does, The dragon observed with a subtle hint
of humor, More easily at his age than even you,
or any other, has for many an age.
Well, I've been told they do mature at a much
swifter rate than I did as a child. Turning
slightly, tracing his fingers along the jawline
of the dragon to her neck, he gazed toward the
shadowy half-real gangway of a boat only half
remembered. Come now, did I not say you could
approach, Charlie? Though his given name was
Charles like his father, Malger had decided not
long after the ship set sail to call him Charlie
instead. From the depths of the gangway two dark
eyes peered out, whiskers that were mere pale
hints against the darkness twitching. Yes, my
boy, we see you. There is no need to fear,
Nocturna is merely
being as she chooses to be,
this night. He glanced up at the large reptilian
head hovering over his own to peer at the owner
of those dark, gleaming little eyes.
He certainly is most curious of you, Malger. And I, though he knows not why.
Nock... A quavering voice issued from the
gangway, Nockurna? Bad dream lady?
Squatting to put himself at closer to eye level
Malger nodded, then shrugged one shoulder. Yes,
and no. He held out a hand and flexed his claw
tipped fingers beckoningly. Come forth, lad.
Your father will not be angry with you, and I am not, nor is Nocturna.
Creeping up the last couple of steps from the
gangway, now more concrete about them as Malger
and Charlie's memories created it as one would
the props of a dream, Charlie crept out into the
open. He was no different in the Dream than he
was in the waking world; a young rat who stood upon two legs as a man might.
He had no memories of being a human as he had
been born a rat. He would ever see himself as
such in the Dream, unless there was a requirement
he appear in a different guise for Nocturna's needs.
The young rat looked cautiously up at Nocturna's
draconic visage but did not quail from it. His
experiences with dragons had not, heretofore,
been ones to engender the expected developed as
one grows, hears stories, and learns just how
deadly dangerous a roused dragon could be.
Lowering her head even with Malger's shoulders
she huffed a puff of silvery steam from her nostrils.
Charlie giggled despite himself as the waft of
steam knocked Malger's forward onto his muzzle.
Dragon lady is bird lady too? Charlie asked as
he approached, rounded ears pricked forward.
Bird? Nocturna rumbled gently, though Malger
sensed a sudden tension beneath the smooth scales
under his fingers. He pushed his hat back up with
his free hand. Charlie nodded cautiously.
Black bird lady talk with Daddy. He offered,
standing bravely before the very creature who
presented itself, in the form of a black raven,
to his father Charles in a different dream. And
Daddy go
away. To a bad place, with a dark, bad
person. Wringing his hands Charlie glanced down
at the night shadowed deck beneath his paws and
then looked back up. But Daddy came back,
without the bad person. One hand raised slightly
to point at Nocturna. You bad dream bird lady? Nockurna.
He is astute. Nocturna puffed with incredulous humor.
Malger heaved a sigh, but could only nod.
Nocturna is she, Charlie, yes. Your father
wanted needed something. One who lied to him
made him seek Nocturna, Charlie, but she is not bad.
Nor good. Nocturna observed laconically, Not exactly.
He
Charlie paused, casting about for words
that he had yet to learn to explain himself.
Despite being only a shade older than one year
Malger was mightily impressed at his ability to
speak at all, much less enter the Dream. But
Charles had told him their children, those of
many animal-cursed keepers, matured many times
faster than human children, slowing only after a
year or three. He fears black bird lady.
Charlie finally managed to blurt. She is not of
The Father and the Yew, but Daddy went to her
anyway. He looked up and boldly met Nocturna's reptilian stare. Went to you.
He did. Nocturna offered with a slow nod. The
young rat did not flinch from the dragon's head,
equally as large as his entire body, or the
momentary flashes of long ivory fangs as she
spoke. And I am not of Eli's realm, no.
Am I? Charlie asked, showing for the first time a tiny crack of fear.
Yes, if you choose. Nocturna continued,
stretching out her long silver and black scaled
form to rest her huge head upon the wooden deck.
But you are also of this realm. One wing lifted
to sweep in a short arc toward the sea and night
sky beyond the dream-created boat only they occupied.
Bad dream place?
No. A dream place. The dragon assured him.
Good and bad. You know Malger, is he bad?
No. Charlie shook his head.
The Dream is not bad, Charlie; the story the
Dream brings is sometimes bad. Because we
remember bad more easily than good. But it is not
a thing you should be scared of.
Bad dreams scary, though!
Nocturna's teeth gleamed in a brilliant, though
unsettling, dragon grin. They are meant to be. So you remember them.
But they make bad sleep. Erick has bad dream of
not being home. Boat makes noise, moves, makes bad sleep for Erick. But I fix!
You fix? Malger raised an eyebrow, head tilted in a curious stare.
Tell Erick to remember wagon. No bad sleep in wagon, even moving.
Before you went to bed?
Charlie shook his head, No, here, when I see him
in bad dream place. Make him think of wagons, bad place go away.
Already he does this. Nocturna grunted, though
quietly for Malger's ears before speaking more
loudly, Charlie, what has your father said of Nocturna?
Bad dream lady. But Daddy not say, I hear from
others at stone house when we stay there. They
say big dog lady talks to many that are not of
the Yew, and bad dream lady is one she does not like to talk to.
Lothanassa Raven. Malger offered with a
sidelong glance down at the huge head resting on
the deck near his crossed legs. Children at the castle say this?
The young rat nodded, finally crossing his legs
and sitting down as well, his muscular rat tail
flicking around to drape across his lap. Some.
Bigger kids say mean things. Some are like us, go
to Ecclesia. Some are not, go to other house,
where bid dog lady talks to different
spirits?
He looked confused at the last word, not
understanding the full concept of the Pantheon.
Aedra. Malger offered. Like the Ecclesia, but with different gods.
I guess. Charlie shrugged.
Charlie, this place, were we are, is a place
only you can reach, and I can reach. It is the place of dreams.
I know. I'm asleep next to Erick. This is a dream.
Malger shared a momentary glance with the
dragoness sprawled next to him, her bulk curled
around behind him to dominate much of the boat's
unoccupied deck. Yes, this is a dream. I would
like to talk to you, about the dream. Here, in
the dream. Maybe later, when we are awake, but
don't tell anyone except your Daddy, okay?
Why?
I do not know the answer, Charlie. And your
brother and sisters won't know, either, or your
mother. Your father knows. He has seen Nocturna. He understands.
A secret?
Yes, Charlie, our secret, between you, your father, and me.
And her. Charlie nodded toward the dragoness.
She lives here. Malger chuckled, The secret can't be hidden from her.
Oh. Charlie mulled this over for a few seconds, Cheater.
With a burring chuff Malger laughed and even the
huge black and silver beast filling the deck rumbled humorously.
----------
The wind slackened enough to give Charles a brief
respite from his duties as early morning twilight
graced the sky. Dandelo assured him it was only a
lull and the wind would return as sure as a dog
to its vomit. The moon was a sliver low in the
eastern sky. Tomorrow it would be nothing at all.
The nights were not as short as at Metamor, but
it would be several hours yet before he could
sink into well-earned rest in his family's bed.
He took his short rest upon the fo'c'sle next to
the bow-spirit. He peered down at the leaping
dolphin when his eyes tired of the last stars.
The soft lapping of waves upon the prow lulled
his senses. He blinked a wisp of sleep away and
clasped his hands in prayer. Words murmured from
his tongue, words he could not recall after they
were uttered. A prayer? A plea? Something of the sort.
Loud footfalls woke him from his stupor. He
half-turned and smiled. The young dragon Lindsey
approached, wings tucked in tight, head lifted as
high as his neck could reach. A fang-filled smile
touched his face and bright purple-flecked golden
eyes greeted him. Good morning, Charles. How was your night?
Busy, he admitted, rubbing soreness from his
muscles. But good. We've added a few more
leagues. Sutthaivasse cannot be far now. And
after her, Whales! And then Boreaux. And then...
Sondeshara! Lindsey hissed the name as he came
to the rat's side. You know, I had never heard
of the place until you spoke of it on our journey to Marzac last year.
And I had never heard of Metamor or even Arabarb
until I journeyed north into the Midlands a
decade ago. Charles turned and leaned against
the gunwale. Yet here we are together. I hope
one day I can come with you to visit your
homeland. I hope... He grimaced and turned back to the sea.
Lindsey stepped out onto the bow-spirit and lay
across it, tail dangling over the side to wrap
around the leaping dolphin. He spread his wings
over Charles's head like an awning. He gave out
to the sea and a long hiss escaped his throat.
It is the land across the sea; the land Zhypar was born in.
Charles chuffed and lifted his whiskers. It is.
He stepped up and put one paw upon the
bow-spirit, dark eyes fixed upon the dark-blue
southern horizon. It's a beautiful land,
Lindsey. I do miss it. I will miss Metamor even more.
We all will. We do. Lindsey sighed and Charles
felt the wood shift beneath his feet. Do you
think you will never see it again?
I don't know, Charles lowered his snout for a
moment, hands balled into fists. I fear it.
But... this is what we must do. For Jerome. For Garigan. For my family.
For you, Lindsey finished. I had to return to
my homeland. I learned something about myself I
never would have thought possible. He belched a
gust of flame and hissed a laugh. You need to
return for yourself more than any of the others, Charles.
The rat favored him with an amused grin. His ears
perked, and a measure of confidence filled him.
Perhaps... no. You are right, my friend. You are
right. I won't be a dragon! But...
But you'll have more peace in your heart than you have ever had.
He blinked and stared to the south for several
seconds. In only the few minutes they'd been
talking the horizon had brightened to a pale
blue. The wind pressed at his back and he heard
the sail snapping taut. He leaned forward and
rested his hand upon his knee. Lindsey... I... I
envy you. You're right again. I don't know what
the future holds or where it will take us, but
its a chance for us to right the wrongs of our past.
And it is coming fast! We'll be there before we know it.
Aye! Neither said anything more as they watched
the southern skies. Dawn of a new day aboard the
Venture Swift was nearly there.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
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