The Dragon and Her Boy Read online

The Dragon and Her Boy

  J. J. Abraham

  Copyright 2014 J. J. Abraham

  Cover Design © 2014 J. J. Abraham

  Cover Artwork by Stephanie King

  Author's Note:

  I'd like to thank Stephanie for giving the dragons a caring home, and Rob for his proofing, and his inspiration that he provided early on, and Paul Lucas for his help in writing this story.

  This is for my mother, father and brother who I miss dearly, and who had encouraged me throughout the years.

  Tara pitched her head back on her long sinuous neck and shrilled heart-wrenching grief into the mountainous countryside. Many dozens of her fellow dragons joined her, their cries paying tribute to her fallen mate, and for miles around terrified birds flapped to the skies at the high piercing squalls.

  The clan's elder dragon approached her and rubbed his serpentine neck along her own to lend what comfort he could. Tara grumbled at the affectionate gesture. Stormscale could be harsh in his judgments, but there was no mistaking the depth of his affection.

  "I know you soar through dark skies," he said thoughtfully. The large male dragon pulled back just enough to look into her mournful eyes, their snouts close. "We all miss Tearlach..."

  "He was a good mate," she barely choked out, breaking eye contact with the elder.

  He held her wing edge with his own.

  Tearlach and Tara were together for over a century. Not that long as dragons measured time, but most of her young life. She had had no idea she could care for another so deeply.

  She had originally been opposed to their arranged mating by Stormscale. Oh, how she had resented the elder because of it!

  But it had been Stormscale's right. As head of the mountain clan it was his responsibility to ensure good pairings.

  "I don't understand how he died," Tara said, bleary-eyed, looking back up. "How could a dragon, any dragon, be trapped in such a way?"

  The earth-tone dragon stared blankly, scowling. This time he refused to meet her eyes. "It... could have been a fluke. Such things happen unexpectedly. In the wrong place disaster can strike," he said seriously. "It should remind us that the veil of life may close over any of us at any time. What happened has happened. We must accept that Tearlach's spirit has flown beyond the sky."

  Tara moaned low, closing her eyes as she felt a fresh stab of pain. "Where... where do our spirits go when we die?"

  Stormscale was amazed at how much she sounded like a lost hatchling. But then if he had lost his lifemate, would he be any different?

  "No one knows." He breathed in deeply. "Neither we nor the humans nor any of the creatures of this world, Tara. We only know our souls fly free after we die, soaring up toward a destination that they long to be with, with all their hearts."

  Tara nodded. It didn't comfort her.

  He took another deep breath and nuzzled her. "Some believe it is paradise, Tara. Some believe we are reborn to start life anew. So wherever he is, I am sure he is happy. And I am sure, little dragon, that his spirit wishes you to be happy, too."

  She took a full step forward and pressed her body against his, resting her head on his shoulder, thankful for the elder's comforting words.

  "Father Stormscale," Tara said lightly, her glistening eyes blinked, "I do not wish to be mated again for a while."

  The elder pulled back. He nodded his head in agreement. "That is understandable. Take a few years. The Fathers are in no hurry."

  She dipped her head appreciatively.

  "Besides," he said softly, trying to avoid sounding callous, "we have a shortage of unmated males in the clan."

  She sighed. "I'm not sure when I will be ready for another mate, Father Stormscale, even when the younger males start coming of age. It may be more than a few years."

  The clan elder opened his jaws, but closed them and nodded again. "If that is what you wish..."

  He regarded Tara thoughtfully as he took several steps back, turned gracefully and spread his massive bat-like wings to face a wind that blew warmly past the mountainous plateau. Just before he launched himself he paused, turned his neck and said gently, "Don't wait too long, daughter of the sky..."

  The elder turned to face the wind, leapt and took flight into the sky with a great beating gust of wind. Tara watched in a whirlwind of sand before turning back to the more immediate task of mourning her dead mate.

  * * *

  Cody whistled three times to command his dog to encircle the sheep closer. The woolly beasts were behaving as stupidly as usual, more interested in finding sweet grass in the broad sloping mountain meadow than in sticking together where he could easily keep a watch on them.

  He sighed as he watched his dog round up the sheep, wondering if his whole life would be babysitting these dull beasts.

  Cody was a young shepherd. Twenty, a lean face nestled under the silk of blond semi-curly hair. He had green eyes with a three day’s growth of beard, his complexion was pale underneath.

  He pulled out a small lyre and strung it, smiled, and two dimples appeared in his peach-colored cheeks. He plucked a few notes experimentally. He believed if he got good enough he could become a traveling musician and storyteller, like the ones who passed through the nearby town of Hogswash accompanying the caravans in autumn and spring.

  Not that his grandfather would listen to such nonsense. He was born a shepherd and would die a shepherd. Just as his ancestors did. He would tend sheep until his bones grew too creaky to walk the meadows. Generations were buried in Bean Blossom, and like his ancestors, he would no doubt be destined to live and die tending sheep.

  Cody grew annoyed that the sheep weren't settling down. If anything they seemed even more agitated than before as they bleated and reared and pushed against each other aggressively. He whistled for his dog to circle them once more. His first inkling that something was wrong was when the dog ignored him, barking angrily at the sky.

  A heartbeat later the shepherd saw a huge shadow flash past the sun.

  He looked up, hand shading his eyes. Against the sky there was no mistaking the long, sinuous silhouette framed by enormous bat-like wings. A dragon!

  The creature was dark-colored with angry-looking red splotched stripes across its head, body and tail. It was covered entirely in gravelly scales that reflected beads of light and made its black hide glint as it flexed its wings. The enormous leathery wing membranes were dark with a pink hue under the bright sky as the dragon banked high above, and with astonishing swiftness folded its wings and swooped down over the meadow driving the bleating, rushing sheep before it.

  Cody ducked as the creature soared past, and he could see individual scales on its enormous sunken underbelly.

  This made no sense. They had paid the stipend only a month ago. The dragons were supposed to leave the herds alone. He knew this dragon couldn’t be from around here. The local dragons had earth-toned patterns. Cody had never even seen a solid-colored one before.

  He grabbed his heavy wooden shepherd’s crook and ran after the dragon who was busy driving the herd. Strangely, the young shepherd felt far more anger than fear.

  The dark dragon swooped across the panicked flock once more, culling a large ram from the herd. It dived and grabbed it with a clawed foot, but the wildly flailing ram managed to squeeze out of its sabre-sized claws leaving several gaping gashes in its flanks. The ram struck the meadow and tumbled head over tail before getting on its legs and staggering away, baaing noisily as its razor-torn hide flowed with crimson.

  The dragon was forced to bleed off its momentum as it swooped high into the sky, slowly banked, and then beat its wings and descended at a controlled speed.

  It was just e
nough time for Cody, who was running at full pace, to close the distance. The dragon seemed oblivious to the human, concentrating only on its prey as it landed with a thud a dozen meters away and then padded heavily across the meadow toward its bleeding meal, who was on its side crying out frantically, head turned with saucer-shaped eyes toward the approaching predator.

  Cody came from behind and flanked the creature in a flash, swinging his crook down onto its huge snout with all his strength. Miraculously the makeshift weapon found a seam between the dragon's scales and bit into flesh. The dragon roared in shock and pain as its reddish ichor seeped from the wound.

  Its beetle-black eyes narrowed with pure hatred and it smashed Cody across the chest with a vicious backhand blow. Cody flew back several dozen feet and collapsed. It padded toward the boy. Sharp claws pressed into the meadow leaving sunken prints of felled grass. The giant predator loomed over the shepherd and snarled its fury through jaws of razor-sharp teeth as strings of saliva hurled out violently from its deafening roar.

  The dragon raised its neck high in the air for a swift murderous blow.

  Cody knew the monstrous maw coming toward him would be the last thing he would ever see.

  * * *

  Tara flew lazily through the mountain skies, banking idly to the right and left and right again, her mind wandering over her growing troubles. Stormscale and the other clan Fathers were getting insistent that she find a new mate.

  It had been decades since Tearlach had died. Far longer than anyone needed to mourn, they told her. The bloodlines had to be attended to. If she did not select a mate on her own, and soon, Stormscale would be forced to find a mate for her.

  But Tearlach's death still tore at her. Even after all this time. There had been a number of males that had petitioned her, and most were good in their own way, but she had rebuffed them all.

  A dark blot against the green meadow below caught her attention. She knew instantly it was a dragon by its silhouette. However, it was no dragon she recognized. Her neck scales burned. A trespasser! The mountains and surrounding country were part of her clan's territory and had been for millennia. Any foreign dragon who wandered into it surely had to know that he would be dealt with!

  As she rolled her wings and descended toward the meadow she saw a tiny speck of a human charge after him. Impressive. He acted so fearlessly against such a larger foe.

  She gasped as the human struck the dragon with his stick. She felt pleasure at seeing the trespasser hurt.

  But then the foreign dragon smashed the human aside, causing him to fly backward and tumble across the meadow. Something inside her recoiled in outrage. She roared. NO! She folded her wings and dived.

  The dark creature stood over the barely conscious boy, the curve of its powerful neck raised high as his jaws prepared for a final lethal blow—

  Tara slammed into his flank, her sharp talons ripped viciously past scales and into deep pink flesh as teeth tore at his wing and its thick leathery membrane.

  That would show him!

  The large male was stunned for a heartbeat as he struck back violently. Claws and fangs flashed in a hissing frenzy as they rolled along the meadow in a giant knot pushing boulders across grass in long earthy furrows. The male flung her aside. Her wingclaws dug into the soft earth as she scrambled to her feet expecting another attack.

  The male only stood hiss-growling, recovering from her assault, "So you're in league with this human gnat!" he huffed in his alien accent.

  "I don't have to answer to you!" She snarled breathlessly, covered in mud and grass. "Take your diseased carcass out of our territory, before I gut you like an overfed boar!" She flexed her sickle-shaped wingclaws for effect. Her heart drummed under her ribs.

  The male laughed derisively. "Oh, you think so, daughter of the mountain clan? Without surprise on your side, I doubt you could take me like that again." He began to circle her as he spoke, his breathing deep and rapid. "Besides, little girl, this territory was stolen from my clan, by your inbred ancestors. I'm correcting for past mistakes—"

  "The only mistake is me not biting your neck instead of your wing!" she spat, facing the intruder as he circled her. "Tell me ..." she said, catching her breath, "you want to really risk a clan war, for your bluster and a single ram? You think you can take me, as injured as you are? Fool!"

  He drilled her with a murderous stare for a heartbeat and as she saw his muscles tense, Tara wondered if she could survive a fight with the big male, and just as she was about to lunge at the intruder he whipped around, bounded across the meadow and with a powerful leap launched himself into the sky with a frustrated growl. Blood trailed from an injured wing.

  Tara suppressed a chill. She had a feeling he would be back.

  A soft low moan drew her attention. Adrenaline coursing through her, she lashed around. The young shepherd was on his back holding his side.

  She was tempted to launch herself back into the sky. After all, she had done her duty to her clan in driving away the intruder and protecting its food source. The human could fend for himself, as his kind usually did.

  She remembered his courage in facing a foe a hundred times his size. She snorted.

  The dragoness padded to the boy and nudged him as gently as she could with her snout. The small human opened his eyes and gasped at the giant winged creature, and smacked at her snout with his small fists. It was adorable.

  She watched as he struggled to his feet.

  The shepherd had what appeared to be only shallow cuts and bruises, but by the way he staggered across the meadow it seemed as if something was broken inside him. She admired how he tortuously stumbled toward the fallen ram.

  He made it a dozen steps before he collapsed unconscious.

  She sighed.

  Nothing was ever going to be easy, was it?

  * * *

  Consciousness proved a slippery commodity for Cody. Pain tumbled away to numbness as he fluttered in and out of blackness. The dragon was after his sheep ... Or was it? The great creature seemed different. Had it changed colors?

  A new round of intense pain shot through him as he was jostled violently upward. The ground fell away.

  Was he dead? Was his spirit rising?

  An angel ....

  At first he was gliding barely above the meadow and then he was a thousand feet higher as it fell away into an expanse of bright blue sky.

  He couldn't see her, but sensed her as he ascended into the heavens. She even spoke to him. "Don't worry little shepherd," she said in a beautiful voice, "I'm taking you home."

  The sun's warmth and the coolness of the air felt good. It soothed the pained wounds to his once mortal body. He relaxed knowing his angel was taking his spirit to its new home.

  He blacked out again.

  When he came to he was surrounded by people calling his name. Familiar voices. His ancestors...

  He gazed into the bright warm light and saw a silhouette of beating wings.

  "Thank you, my beautiful angel—" he rasped just before darkness closed in once more.

  * * *

  Tara soared above the plowlands after dropping off the shepherd. She shook her head, vexed.

  She had seen humans suffer over the 150 years of her life and did nothing. So why bother with this one?

  Perhaps it was striking back at that dragon. He'd tried to hurt the boy, so just to be contrary, she helped the boy.

  A while later she glided over the meadow and saw the shepherd's dog amidst the herd. She looked where she had fought the dragon and noticed a ram nearby laying on its side bleeding. The male must have grievously wounded it.

  She swooped down and snatched the ram in her hindclaws in midflight, carrying it off for a quick meal. It was going to die soon anyway. Might as well put it out of its misery, and get something for her troubles.

  * * *

  As summer closed and trees began to explode with
fall colors, Tara often found herself soaring past the meadow where she had saved the young shepherd. She frequently wondered to herself, why this silly little shepherd boy was always in her thoughts.

  She remembered an elder named Snoweyes who often regaled the clan with a tale that took place when he was younger than she. As the story went, Snoweyes had found what he knew was an abandoned eagle's egg and had an unexplainable urge to take it back to the mountains with him and care for it. The egg hatched and Snoweyes raised the bird as a companion. The dragon and eagle became inseparable for the next half-century during the eagle's lifetime. Though he continued to raise eagles centuries later, he always remarked at how magical the bond was between him and that bird, a passion his spirit had forged for eagles when he spotted that tiny egg.

  Did this explain why Tara couldn't stop thinking of the little shepherd boy all these months?

  Although she somehow doubted that humans would make great pets.

  Over the passing season she saw other humans in the meadowlands with their flocks of sheep, but even a mile above she knew none of them were her shepherd. She wasn't sure what she was hoping for if she saw the boy, only that she wanted to see him again.

  She soared high above the valley. It was her favorite, especially this time of year. It offered a strange contrast of scenery, and helped clear her troubled head. On the right were the mountains, and at a ridge of high ragged bluffs bordering upon a plateau was her home, heavy with tumbling vapors, vividly brightened by the sun. The mountains fell off precipitously towards a lofty forest, where a great river wound its silvery way. In the distance, the plowlands rose in swells and undulations, gracefully expanding to the horizon. On the left were sloping hills, constructed on a smaller, gentler scale. Patches of forest lined a stream whose shores boasted velvety sprigs of wildflowers. Where the trees thinned stretched a vast expanse of rolling grassy meadows, on which the usual countless white dots roamed.

  She breathed in the wind, nostrils flared, and glided to make the view last. She slowly banked. She tilted her head up and saw the vast expanse of azure air, and billowy puffy clouds circled slowly above her, their edges as marble against the sky.

  She tilted her head down, the white dots larger now and their leading edge flattened against a clear stream. Her eyes followed the line, and suddenly flashed wide. There at the end, finally, was the shepherd she had saved in the meadow...