Jade Page 3

  The dragon loosened its tail and Jade dropped to the dry, sandy ground outside the cave. She tried to roll over, but the monster's snout nudged the small of her back, forcing her down. Before she could struggle any more, she felt a razor sharp tooth graze her wrist. This was it. The end. Now there was a scrape at her knuckles. Jade prayed that the beast would be swift. The bindings of her wrists pulled painfully tight . . . and then fell loose.

  After a moment, the ropes that bound her feet were similarly sheared through. The young girl remained trembling on the ground for a moment. Steadily, the footsteps of the dragon retreated. She climbed to her feet, shaking. It had spared her. More than that, it had freed her.

  In times of great danger, the body acts in its own defense long before the mind has had time to prepare orders. She had already run a dozen strides before she had realized she had even moved. When Jade was finally able to overrule her survival instincts, she slid to a stop and fought to catch her breath. Where was she going? She didn't know where she was, though that hardly mattered. She could probably find her way back to the city, but there was no use even trying. If she went back now, they would never believe that she wasn't a witch. No one should be able to survive being a bound offering. Even if they did let her return, Drudder had said that the dragon was causing the drought. If it didn't have her, the horrible thing wouldn't let the rains come and the town would wither away. For the good of her home, and against her every instinct, she began to walk back to the cave.

  With each step, the fear smoldering in her stomach burned hotter. The sandy ground with its prickly, parched grass dwindled to rough, cold stone. The monster had dangled her for a long time. The cave must be enormous. How would she even find the beast? Ahead was a wall of blackness. It came sharply and suddenly, as though the light itself was afraid to delve any deeper. Perhaps with good reason. From the darkness came the thundering growl once more.

  The dragon emerged from the pitch. It must have been lurking there, just out of sight, as if hiding behind a black curtain. The strength drained from Jade's legs. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground and let her head sag. The growl grew stronger as the beast plodded the few remaining steps toward her. Its snout was inches from the top of her head. She trembled, but did not run. This was for the others. This was to end the drought. She repeated the words over and over again in her mind in a failing attempt to stem the urge to flee.

  The terrible nostrils drew in a long, slow breath, releasing it all at once as a terrible roar. It was earsplitting, rebounding off of the walls in a chorus of echoes. The gale of scalding hot breath hit her with all of the fury of a raging storm. Her hair rushed back, tears poured down her face, but she held firm.

  When she raised her eyes, the beast was barely visible as a gleam of eyes and a vague form beyond the edge of the darkness again. Jade locked the eyes in her gaze. The rumble began again, but it brought with it something more startling than anything that came before it. A voice.

  “Leave,” it spoke.

  The word folded seamlessly with the growl, so much so that she for a moment doubted she had heard it at all.

  “N-no,” she managed, when she finally found her voice.

  “Have you no sense?” the beast thundered.

  Its voice was different this time. Not smooth, but smoother. There was a power and depth to it that almost made it more terrifying than the roar. It was a voice that sliced to the very core of the mind, deep and commanding.

  “You h-have to e-eat me.”

  The gleaming eyes narrowed.

  “No.”

  The growl rumbled behind the word, like a hammer driving a spike home. Jade shut her eyes tight, tears flowing anew. With a heroic effort, she managed to utter words that likely had never been spoken before.

  “Please eat me?”

  She offered the words up imploringly, pitifully. Nothing about this made sense anymore. She was a sacrifice. It was supposed to be terrifying. It was supposed to be deadly. It was not supposed to be difficult. She shouldn't have to convince the terrible beast to play its role. She was lost and unsure, her mind spinning. In a way, it was far worse than the fear, which had at least been certain.

  “Why would you beg for death?” grumbled the dragon, the merest hint of frustration in its voice.

  “They sent me to . . . to 'pease you,” she said uncertainly.

  After a few silent moments, the dragon replied.

  “They sent you to appease me?” offered the beast.

  Jade nodded vigorously and sniffled, grateful that she appeared to be making progress.

  “Then go to your people and tell them that I am appeased,” the dragon instructed.

  The words took a moment to penetrate the layers of fear and confusion, but when they did, they came with a glimmer of hope that fairly gleamed from Jade's eyes.

  “R-really?” she asked, heart leaping.

  “Yes,” the creature replied.

  “So you'll stop the drought?”

  The silence lasted longer this time. Slowly, the dragon slid from the darkness. Jade clung desperately to the thread of hope. For the first time, she was looking upon the creature with at least a tiny fraction of her wits about her. Its face, fearsome though it was, had another quality to it. Though it was subtle and difficult to identify, there was a glimmer of emotion in its features. It was in the twist of its mouth, the flare of its nostrils, and, more than anything else, in its eyes. There was weariness, frustration and, perhaps, a hint of . . . regret?

  “No.”

  “But, but that's why I had to a-ppease you. They said that the drought wouldn't end until you were a-ppeased. You have to end it! People are starving! Animals are dying of thirst!” she urged desperately, her last slim chance slipping away.

  “Go,” the creature ordered, turning and slipping back into the shadows.

  “I can't go back! They think I know magic, and if I come back now, they'll never believe I don't, and they'll kill me, and even if they don't, without water the crops won't grow and, and--”

  The words came in a torrent. More followed, but they were nothing but a mangle of bawling sobs. Mind clouded by desperation and eyes clouded by tears, she charged into the darkness. She didn't know what she was hoping to achieve with the act. All she knew was that her life, which by rights should have ended by now, was hopelessly out of control, and somewhere in the darkness was a beast that had to answer for it.

  Her bare feet pounded against the cool floor for a few steps until, without warning, the floor was no longer there to meet her. Jade tumbled forward onto what turned out to be a sudden, steep slope. She crashed and flailed painfully along the incline until it turned sharply to level ground once more. The young girl's head struck the floor with the full force of the fall.

  Red and white sparks filled her vision. She slipped to the very edge of consciousness. There was pain, but it was far away. Though she could not see, she felt that the whole of the cave was spinning wildly. The world faded in and out around her, as though everything was happening on the other side of thick curtains. Was she moving? Was something echoing? She had neither the wits to know nor the will to find out.

  When the daze came to an end, it did so slowly. She became aware of a flickering yellow light and a faint crackling noise. A fire? The ground beneath her was not cold and hard. It wasn't ground at all. It felt almost like . . . cloth? When she tried to turn her head to see, the world seemed to whip around her so violently she held onto the mysterious bedding for fear of being thrown free.

  When the bout of dizziness died down, she opened her eyes. What slowly came into focus was a pair of massive, amber-gold eyes. Now the emotion was clear, even to Jade's impaired mind. This creature was concerned.

  The dragon was standing over her, not so much staring into her eyes as analyzing them.

  “Speak,” the beast demanded.

  “Where am I?” Jade asked muzzily.

  The dragon stalked quickly away, anger replacing the worry in its voice
and features.

  “What sort of a fool are you, charging into a dark cave. You could have been killed,” grumbled the beast, as it set about a task beyond the range upon which Jade's eyes were currently willing to focus.

  She eased herself up and tried to look about again, this time slowly. Her head felt two sizes too big, every motion threatening to topple her over. The dim light was coming from a weak fire in the corner of what looked to be a high-roofed chamber within the cave. From the darkness came the dragon, still muttering, with something clutched between its teeth.

  “Where am I?” she asked again, trying to stand.

  Almost immediately, she lost her balance. The dragon's tail snaked around her before she could hit the ground. It placed her back upon the pile of rags that had served as a bed.

  “Sit!” the beast ordered through clenched teeth.

  It lowered the bucket it was carrying before her.

  “Drink.”

  Jade looked down. It was a large wooden bucket with a tin dipper. Her eyes widened. It was filled with water. She began to drink almost frantically. The precious liquid ran down her face and soaked her shirt as she desperately scooped it up. Her parched throat and cracked lips fairly sang with relief. The water had an inky and stagnant taste, but she didn't care. Jade drank until her stomach felt like it would burst, and when she couldn't swallow another drop she ladled the water over her head to feel the coolness trickle down her back.

  When the bucket was empty, Jade paused for a moment. The combined effects of the blow to the head and the profound sense of relief from finally quenching her thirst was a potent one. For a time she simply sat, feeling the life return to her dehydrated body.

  Gradually the facts of the current predicament began to trickle into her mind. Her vision had cleared enough to take in the sparse contents of the cavern. Here and there were scatterings of items. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to them. Some piles seemed to be clothes and bags. Others were pots and pans. All seemed to be originally from chests, which were now splayed open and splintered. It made the cave look more like a field left behind by a traveling market than the home of a monster. Near the center was a handful of gold trinkets and coins mounded carefully. It was all very curious, and Jade's young and addled mind struggled to cope, but all she had learned thus far was that was little more demanding of one's attention than the presence of a dragon.

  The beast was sitting beside the tiny pile of valuables, tail curled in front of it in a vaguely protective manner. Its eyes were locked on Jade. The stare was almost painfully intense, and unshakable. It made her feel small and helpless, like a cornered rabbit cowering from a wolf. Almost worse was the silence. Something as massive and deadly as a dragon ought to make a noise, even when standing still. Clearing a throat that was not dry for the first time in weeks, she spoke.

  “Th-thank you for the water,” she managed.

  “You needed water,” the dragon rumbled, as though somehow that was all that needed to be said.

  “My people need water, too.”

  “Then they should get it.”

  “If . . . If you would bring back the rain . . .”

  The cavern echoed with a deep growl.

  “I'll do whatever you want me to. You said you were a-ppeased, but you aren't bringing back the rain, so you must not be.”

  The thumping growl continued to rumble.

  “What would it take to a-ppease you?”

  “Do you even know what that word means?”

  “I . . . Uh . . . At first I thought it meant 'get eaten by' . . .”

  “It means they want you to give me what I want so I won't be angry anymore.”

  “So . . . it does mean 'get eaten by'?”

  “Why would I want to eat a little girl?”

  “I don't know! You're a dragon! It's what dragons do! They come to towns and scare everybody, an' they capture maidens an' fight knights an', an' . . . an' cause droughts!” she raved, climbing to her feet again.

  The voice of self-preservation within Jade gently suggested that screaming at a dragon was not a wise thing to do. Unfortunately, it was lost in the tangle of her mind. She was tired, she was hungry, her head was throbbing, and she was being asked questions she didn't know how to answer. The little girl was at the very end of her wits, and the dragon was the only one she could vent to, so it was going to get an earful.

  “Why are you doing this? What did we ever do to you? It is bad enough that you take away the rain and keep it all for yourself,” she cried, kicking the bucket away, “but then when we try to give you what you want, you won't take it! You roar and growl at me, then when I fall and get hurt, you bring me here and give me a drink!? Why? What is wrong with you!? What do you want!?”

  “I want you to go back to your family and--”

  “My family is dead!” she shrieked.

  The sharp tone and sharper glare were enough to give even the dragon pause for a moment. Tears of anger and sadness trickled slowly down her cheeks.

  “Your foster parents, then, and--”

  “They aren't my foster parents. They only take care of me so they can use my family's land,” she said coldly.

  “You have no family?” the dragon asked.

  “My brothers and sister and both of my parents died in a fire,” said Jade, sniffling and attempting to stand tall, “so if you were sparing me to be nice, don't. There's no one left to cry when I'm gone.”

  “I am not going to kill you,” the dragon rumbled, “and I cannot stop the drought.”

  “What do you mean you can't? You started it!”

  “I have nothing to do with this drought.”

  “Don't lie--you have water and we don't! Where would you get water in a drought if you couldn't stop and start it whenever you want?”

  “We are in a cave, deep underground. Dig deep enough and you often find water. Deepen your wells, or dig a new one.”

  “I . . . No! No, they wouldn't send me here to die if they weren't sure. They wouldn't sacrifice me unless they'd tried everything else!” Jade objected.

  Even as the words left her mouth, she knew that they were false. The last of the water had only been gone for a few days before she had been thrown to the dragon. This hadn't been the last resort--it had been the first. Her eyes slowly lowered as the realization swept in.

  “Your people were sure. It isn't the same as being correct.”

  She did not reply.

  “Go back to them.”

  “I can't go back. They think I'm a witch, remember? There is no way that I could convince them you let me go. Unless . . . could you come with me? Could you tell them about letting me go, and about the drought and the wells?” she asked weakly.

  “No.”

  “No . . . I guess it wouldn't have worked anyway. If they won't listen to me, why would they listen to you? And I don't want to go back, even if they would take me.”

  “You must.”

  “Why?”

  “You need someone to take care of you.”

  “They threw me to you! They don't care about me. The only one who seems to care about me is . . . you.”

  The dragon seemed to stiffen at the words.

  “Why? Why spare me? Why help me when I fell?”

  “It doesn't matter. If you will not allow the people of this village to care for you, then we will find another.”

  “No!” she said, stomping her foot. “This is your fault! If you didn't show up, they wouldn't have blamed you, and then they wouldn't have tried to sacrifice me. Besides, they all knew me, and they were still willing to throw me in this cave. Strangers would be even worse. I've met a lot of people, and right now I don't like any of them. I've only met one dragon, and you've treated me much better than them.”

  “No,” the beast growled.

  “Why not? Why do you care?”

  The silence fairly burned with the intensity of the beast's frustration.

  “What is your name?”

  “Jad
e.”

  “All of it.”

  “Jade Vera Rinton.”

  The dragon looked her in the eye and slowly approached her. When its snout was near enough to touch her head, the creature inhaled, long and deep. When it was through, it opened its eyes again. They gleamed with certainty. Wordlessly, her bizarre host returned to his meager hoard and sat again.

  “You must be made safe.”

  “Why!?” the little girl cried impatiently.

  “Because you are important. And because it is my purpose.”

  “I'm important?”

  “Yes. Stay here. You need to eat,” the dragon decided.

  With that, the beast was gone. The speed at which the creature moved left Jade blinking. It was just a flurry of legs and wings, then nothing but the sound of retreating footsteps in the darkness.

  Jade rubbed her stomach absentmindedly. She was hungry, though she wasn't sure how the dragon knew. Now alone, she had nothing to do but explore what little of the beast's den the light revealed. One of the bags had clearly been a merchant's wares. Inside were various bits of clothing, among them a pair of boots. They were nearly twice her size, but she put them on anyway, and tied them as best she could. Being in a dragon's den was bad enough, but being barefoot in a dragon's den seemed somehow worse. Once thus outfitted, she clomped over to the fire and tossed a few more shreds of broken chest onto it. Finally, she couldn't find anything to keep her from the room's center, where the tiny mound of gold sat.

  It had not seemed like much beside the dragon, but the two heaping handfuls of coins and assorted gold trinkets was by far the most money she'd seen in one place. She was still marveling at it when the beast arrived, clutching an entire stag.

  “Get away from there!” It barked.

  Jade stumbled backward. The dragon nudged its kill toward her.

  “Eat.”

  Jade looked at the still-cooling prey.