"Is this going to hurt?" Lindsey asked as Jessica studied him intently. They stood in the Long House armory with Misha and Allart observing and debating amongst themselves what was the appropriate gear for a youth. Allart, being age regressed by the curses, had extensive experience in that regard and was the only one of the Long Scouts resting at Metamor who could claim it. And as soon as he'd heard about Jessica's ability to apply different curses to people for a time, he asked if she might make him into a tabby like his wife. Neither did he specify why he wished it nor did he need to. It was the most common request Jessica received.
"No, it shouldn't," Jessica replied as she gazed into the magical weave surrounding the northerner. "Nobody else I've changed has complained about anything except a little dizziness and confusion when they change to their new forms. I'm just going to make you younger, so there should be even less. You don't have to worry about learning how to use a tail." As soon as the words left her beak, Jessica felt them stab her heart. Lindsey had learned how to use a tail when he'd been made a female kangaroo by the Marquis. "Oh, I'm so sorry."
But the northerner closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, it's okay. I don't like to think about it either."
"I don't like this whole thing," Misha opined in a faint growl. "I've been going over it in my mind all afternoon, and I know you are willing to do it, but I still don't like it one bit. Never did."
Lindsey offered the fox sad eyes. "And if a tyrant took control of Marigund and took its boys for his bed, would you do anything different?"
The fox's jowls twitched in irritation, and his tail lashed back and forth as if swatting flies. "I certainly wouldn't try to kill him in his bed. But yes, I'd do whatever I could." He crossed his arms and growled sotto voce, "I still don't like it."
Lindsey looked to Jessica, but his words were still for the fox. "It isn't your choice. It's mine. And I know in my heart that Zhypar would have wanted me to do this." Misha could say nothing against that and returned to his dispute with Allart over what the best gear would be.
But the hawk's gaze narrowed in consternation as she continued to study him. After several seconds intense scrutiny, she shook her head and waved her wings before her face. Lindsey frowned, "What is it?"
"I think whatever the Marquis did to you has garbled the Curse on you. At least, it looks different compared to everyone else's." Jessica cawed once in frustration and then stared more intently. "I will figure it out. Just give me a few more minutes and I think I'll have everything I need to make you young again, at least for an hour."
Lindsey frowned, certain he didn't like the thought that whatever the Marquis had done still lingered with him. It had been painful enough being made female and compatible with Zhypar, only to lose him, and then, having to lose the child-thing too. He'd accepted it as an evil that needed destroying much like the dragon Vissarion they'd freed Kayla from. But there were few nights when he didn't think about the kangaroo. Father Hough said that not everything we wish is the will of Eli and that our true peace is only in surrendering our will to Him. Lindsey prayed every day that he could.
Misha and Allart reached some sort of agreement and left the two of them alone to go gather supplies. Lindsey nodded to them as they left, then returned his attention on the hawk. Jessica's coal black feathers thrummed as if touched by a wind he couldn't feel. Her golden eyes protruded like daggers past her hooked beak as they dug into the magical confluence bound to him. For a moment, he thought he understood how a mouse felt when cornered by the cat.
After at least five minutes, Jessica finally relaxed and her eyes, intent as ever, became friendly in countenance as he had long grown to know them. "Okay. I think I can see what to do. Whatever the Marquis did seems to be overshadowed by the Curse so I think we can ignore it for now. Maybe after you return we can try to understand what it is?"
"Aye," Lindsey agreed with a quick nod. "But that is for later. Can you make me a child?"
"How old do you want to be?"
"Ten or eleven; just before I would have reached my manhood." He laughed a moment later, a short crisp laugh without much humor. "Metamor does strange things."
Jessica cawed sadly. "Indeed it does. Are you ready?"
He paused only the briefest of moments before agreeing. "Aye."
Jessica folded her wings in front of her, and with her wing claws, traced out an intricate pattern in the air. Lindsey could see nothing but felt a warmth coursing through his flesh. His skin, already ruddy, began to glow faintly as the thick hair coating much of his body began to writhe and withdraw. His clothes sagged on him as the world around him swelled in proportion. His beard was swallowed into his face like a diner slurping noodles. He felt suddenly very weak and vulnerable.
The transformation took only a few seconds. Jessica folded her wings behind her back and pointed at him with one talon. "There. You are a child again. How do you feel?"
"Weak," Lindsey replied in a much higher pitched alto. "A mirror?"
Jessica pointed toward a set of gleaming armor nearby and Lindsey, grabbing his trousers in one hand, kicked off his too big boots and stumbled toward the broad shield. Before him was a boy with an unruly mop of red hair, lightly freckled face, broad shoulders and square jaw. His arms were slender but still tough in sinew, but he'd have difficulty lifting his axe let alone swinging it. And he had lost four to five hands in height. Before him was a young boy a year or two away from beginning his manly growth; but one that would grow more than any could guess.
Lindsey stared at that boy for several long seconds, marveling that he did not look like his younger brother as he'd expected. Andrig had been swarthy and broad shouldered, true, but his face had been lean and his hair a darker hue. And he'd also been taller at this age than Lindsey was now. Nor did he look much like his father might have. Was there more of his mother in his youthful countenance? Perhaps... it was hard to tell. Soften the cheeks and lengthen the hair and he certainly could have seen the young girl he'd been so many years ago.
"Is it all right?" Jessica asked.
Lindsey nodded and finally managed to tear his face away from the reflection. "Aye, I think this will do. Can you truly keep me so young for a month?"
"Perhaps longer if you need it." Jessica fluttered her wings as she turned toward the armory door. "But you'll need to move quickly. I just don't know how long it will last. I'm going to go and ready what I need for the other parts of the spell. I will see you tomorrow morning, Lindsey."
"Thank you."
Jessica hopped a few steps then paused, a trilling laugh in her throat. "And thank you for the gift of the awl pike. It fits Weyden's claws perfectly."
Still clutching his trousers, Lindsey managed to follow her out to the main hall. Allart and Misha were bringing a bundle of supplies his way, while in one corner he saw Ralls and Padraic sparing with short-handled blades. A few children were gathered around watching them, while others were capering about the balconies over head playing a game of Keepers and Lutins from the sound of the grunting and shouting. And down the circular staircase came a young man dressed in gray tunic and breeches, with a bright red shock of hair even more unruly than Lindsey's own and a red sash about his waist that dangled behind him like a tail. His lips parted in a smile when he saw Lindsey and he started skipping across Long Hall.
Misha caught sight of him and quickly drew a sword. "Who are you and how did you get in here?" Padraic and Ralls stopped sparing and rushed over to help. Jessica cawed in shock and turned to assist. Allart, without the fox's aid, nearly fell over under the weight of the gear.
The man waved and grinned, "Hi Misha! I saw your windows were open so I thought I'd drop on in and see how things are going."
Lindsey felt very certain he knew that voice, and from the way Misha's ear twitched the fox must have as well. Still, the Long Scout commander was not used to having uninvited guests drop on by, even ones that called him by name. "You know my name, but I don't know yours."
The young man threw back his red hair and laughed. "Oh that's right! You hadn't yet seen the human form I learned to take last month. It's me, Pharcellus!" And so saying, he closed his eyes and after a moment's pause, the body swelled in front and behind, hands splaying before him and growing into heavy, scaled paws. The sash stretched out behind until it swayed ponderously, gray with crimson tinges along a saw-toothed ridge. Powerful haunches anchored his legs which tore at the carpeting beneath him. And his smile split across his face now filled with fangs. Horns sprouted through hair that shrank into a series of ridges and spines. And from his back erupted a pair of broad wings that stretched halfway across the width of Long House.
"Pharcellus!" Misha exclaimed as he put his sword away. "Don't scare me like that! When did you learn to take a human form?"
The dragon folded his wings back and then sat down on his haunches, curling his tail before him as he belched a little smoke from his nostrils. "I've been wanting to learn that trick for at least a decade or more. I finally convinced one of the elders to teach it to me on my last flight back to Arabarb. I've been dying to try it out!" He swung his head over to Lindsey and chortled. "You will be much easier to carry like that."
"Pharcellus," Lindsey said in his irritatingly high-pitched voice, "thank you for giving me advance warning yesterday. I am relieved that it is you who will be bringing me to Arabarb."
"Well, I think I've heard everything then," Ralls said with a sardonic grin.
Pharcellus bowed his head to Lindsey. "I am honored. Thank you. Now, I understand we're supposed to be sized up for the trip. Does that mean I'll get a proper harness this time?" He turned to Misha and quivered his jowls in a mock snarl.
Misha scowled back at the dragon, but, he was a dragon, and the fox knew better than to argue with him. "We can certainly try to adjust it, Pharcellus. You'll just need to stay still so we can put it on you and..."
"A dragon!" a very familiar voice yipped as a heavy metal clanging resounded from the other end of Long House. Misha slapped his forehead and then he and all the Longs ran for cover. Jessica stared for a moment in surprise, squawking a protest when Misha grabbed her about the middle and hauled her out of the open. Lindsey stumbled back into the armory doorway and laughed like any child might. In fact, all of the children gathered along the balconies to watch the dragon.
Pharcellus turned, and stood on all fours, keeping his wings pressed in close to his back. Upon sighting the automaton fox he almost belched a small gout of flame. "Madog!"
"No playing chase in Long House with dragons!!" Misha shouted from his corner with Ralls and Jessica.
Madog, whose tail had been wagging, now drooped a moment, before he bounded up to Pharcellus and sat on his haunches. "Wanna play chase outside?"
Pharcellus grinned and patted Madog on the head with a forepaw. "I'd love to. But I'm going on a very important mission tomorrow and I have to get ready. Maybe when I get back."
The automaton looked past the dragon to where Lindsey stood holding his drawers and he yipped. "Oh! Getting wings this time to fly!"
At this point, Pharcellus had returned to sitting on his haunches and the Longs all risked leaving their corners. The children all rushed down the stairs to touch the dragon who did no worse than breath a little smoke on them when they started climbing on his back. Allart brought the clothes to Lindsey who was only too happy to start trying them on. Misha followed them back into the armory shaking his head in exasperation.
"I am so glad I don't use dragons on missions very often." He cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure Pharcellus hadn't heard it. But the gray-scale was too busy entertaining the children and Madog to give the fox any notice. "Ralls, get in here and help me find that dragon harness!"
Lindsey, while pulling on one of Allart's fur-lined shirts, said to the fox, "You know he does it just because it drives you crazy. He's a dragon, and a young one. When he's with friends, it's a game. But I've seen him when it isn't a game, and I know he'll be of great help."
Misha glanced at him from behind a rack of maces and clubs. "I know that. It's why I like him." The fox smiled wickedly and then returned to his search with Ralls.
Lindsey laughed again even as Allart threw a cloak over his head and yanked it down over his shoulders. No matter what happened in Arabarb he knew he would miss Metamor and all his friends here.
April 2, 708 CR
After the spell wore off and Lindsey was his usual age again, he spent the evening with the timber crews explaining that he would be leaving them again for a time. At first they were quite upset, but once he went over the reasons they all understood and shared a few rounds of ale on him. Michael was especially distraught, but the patchwork beaver came around in the end.
And he was there the next morning in the northern clearing between the Keep and the curtain walls where Pharcellus waited with the harness strapped to his upper back between wings and neck. Jessica had the spell ready and was accompanied by a worried looking Weyden. He bore the awl pike that Lindsey had given them for a wedding present, something he'd made himself while still in Arabarb and wonderfully suited to the hawk's physique. Of the rest, Madog reclined near Misha after a thorough romping with the dragon, while the head of the Long Scouts kept crossing and uncrossing his arms.
Duke Thomas even emerged to wish him a safe and speedy journey. The horse lord put one hand on his shoulder and gazed down his equine snout. "I cannot tell you how grateful and indebted I will be to you, Lindsey. With the death of Calephas the last of Nasoj's lieutenants will be defeated. He will stand alone and Metamor will stand strong."
Lindsey put his hand on the Duke's shoulder in imitation of the horse lord's gesture. "I know. And Arabarb will be free. My homeland will be free. My family will be free again. If Nasoj had died last night I would still be doing this." He tightened his grip and the horse did his as well. For a brief moment Thomas and Lindsey were equals, brothers even, each wishing the other success in battle. And then they stepped apart, brutal smiles pressing their lips.
Misha came to him next, as they walked through fresh grass, the scent of flowers and warmer air all around them. The fox licked his jowls and then in a whisper said, "I've arranged with George to have some of his still human mercenaries mount a rescue operation if we do not hear from you in a month. They'll have a pair of mages with them. I wanted to have a mage with you, but sending even one this way is risky enough. You will not be abandoned by Metamor if things do not go well."
Lindsey nodded and patted the fox on the shoulder. Though he had never really known the fox except by reputation until after his return from Marzac, he was exceedingly grateful for his friendship now. "Thank you. If things do not go well, I may not be alive in a month's time, but the sea birds will need help too."
"They'll get it. And we'll do it by force if subtlety doesn't work. I hate subtlety. So much can go wrong."
"As it does with force too," Lindsey replied. "I have seen many a tree fall in a completely different direction than we expected and regardless of what we've done to direct it. But this is my home. I need to do this, Misha."
The fox sighed but then grabbed Lindsey by the shoulder the same as the Duke had. "I wish I could convince you to join the Longs, Lindsey. Be careful now. If Calephas broke our old spy ring, he may have done the same with the new one. That mage, Gmork, you may need to kill him first."
The thought was unsettling, but Lindsey knew it could be true. "I'll watch my back," He and the fox hugged as fellow soldiers, and then he continued on toward the dragon where Jessica and Michael waited.
The beaver was rubbing one paw over Pharcellus's flank in admiration, while the dragon gave the multi-hued beaver a peculiar stare. When Lindsey approached, Michael stepped away and hugged the northerner before he could even utter a word. His grip was strong and sure, and the beaver hefted the northerner off the ground a few inches in his enthusiasm. "You've been the dearest of friends to me, Lindsey. Without you I'd have never found my place here at Metamor. I missed you when you left for Marzac, and I'm going to miss you even more this time! Please come back to us!"
Lindsey patted the beaver along the back as he hugged and laughed warmly. "Michael, you are a better timbersman than I am. Thank you for saving me a place with them. Without you Metamor would never feel like home."
The beaver set him back down and let go, grinning broadly enough to show off his incisors. He slapped his flat tail on the grass for emphasis. "We'll get going. The sooner you go, the sooner you get back to us!"
He laughed one more time before turning to Jessica. The hawk bobbed her head to him and asked, "Do you have your gear?"
"All the clothes for my younger self are in here." He gestured to the pack slung over his shoulder. He glanced up at the dragon and grinned, "Pharcellus, do you mind giving me some modesty?"
The dragon belched some smoke and gave the other Keepers a hard stare. "Not at all! Do you want to walk around me or should I sit on the others?"
Lindsey laughed broadly and shook his head. "We'll walk around. I'm sure his grace did not appreciate you threatening to sit on him."
Pharcellus splayed his paw across his chest and in very solemn tones said, "I would never do such a thing. I am an honorable dragon. The fox however..." A mischievous glint filled his blue eyes. "It would only be fair for the way he tightened the harness too tight last night."
"You told me to keep going, you incorrigible reptile!" Misha shouted with one paw beside his snout.
Pharcellus belched a gust of smoke but made no further reply. Jessica and Lindsey moved around to the far side where they couldn't be seen by the others. Pharcellus glanced once at them before turning his head around to study the colorful beaver again.
Jessica stretched out her wings and lowered her beak. "Are you ready?"
"Aye. Do it."
"You will be this way for a month, or until you remove the spell yourself. You'll know how." Jessica lowered her voice. "But once you do, you can't be young again. Do you understand?"
Lindsey stroked his braided beard one last time and then folded his hands before him, ready to grab his trousers when they started to fall. "I understand."
The hawk nodded to him then drew her wings tips together and began drawing sigils in the air. This time, Lindsey could actually see a faint blue light surrounding them. It grew in strength, a complicated weave that crossed over itself several times, until Lindsey could make no sense of the mess of symbols and glyphs from which it had been arranged. And then, one by one they began to vanish, as if they were a candle placed in a jar until all the air ran out. And as more and more of it faded from view, he began to feel that strange tightening in his body much as he did last night.
His clothes quickly grew baggy around him as his beard and hair shrank, and the world grew in proportion. He grabbed a hold of his trousers as they began to slip over his waist, and even the pack over his shoulder fell down around his elbow and nearly made him stumble. Even after he felt the changes stop and he was a ten year old boy again Jessica continued with her spell. He could almost see her tying knots, and a faint nimbus shot off to the northwest though he couldn't see why.
And then, Jessica lowered her wings and breathed across the empty air between them. The warm fragrance of chrysanthemums and lilacs struck him and held him transfixed until they faded. Her beak then creased in a smile and her golden eyes brightened. "There! I've locked you into this age until you concentrate on returning to your old self. It will take a few seconds to trigger, and once it does you won't be able to stop it. The spells around you will unravel and you'll be you again. How do you feel?"
Lindsey glanced down at himself and laughed in a piping alto. "Like a boy again!" He tossed the pack on the ground and started rummaging through for his clothes. He'd need good warm furs to fly on the back of a dragon.
Jessica hopped back around while he changed into more fitting clothes. He double checked that he had an extra pair, then tied the pack onto the harness next to the rest of his supplies. He gave Pharcellus's hard but smooth shoulder a firm rub, glad to be in the company of an old family friend, and then walked back around to where the others waited.
Michael slapped his tail again and chuckled when he saw the youthful Lindsey. Thomas congratulated Jessica on her good work, while Madog looked eager to have a new friend to play with. Misha put a paw on the automaton's head to gently restrain him.
Lindsey sighed, and glanced past them at the castle once before turning to Pharcellus who lowered his neck to bring the harness into reach. The gray-scale smiled in a very simple and reassuring way. Lindsey gripped the leather straps and hauled himself up onto the dragon's back, placing his feet in the stirrups. There was a little clamp that he hooked through his belt, and grips for his arms. The saddle portion was shaped to protect him from the spiny ridge along Pharcellus's back, and scalloped so he could duck out of most of the wind. Otherwise it should be no worse on his body than riding a large horse.
He leaned back for a bit and waved to his friends. "I will return. Good bye my friends. Eli's blessings go with you." He then patted Pharcellus on the side of the neck, the scaly flesh very warm beneath him. "Come my friend, it's time to go."
Lindsey felt the dragon's muscles tense beneath him and he tightened his grip. The wings spread wide behind him, and with a powerful thrust of limbs, they vaulted into the air. The sound of the wings beating was like a heavy drum that reverberated through his chest. The air whipped past him and made him very grateful he'd tucked his hair braid within his heavy cloaks. Beneath them the Keepers looked so small, no more than ants.
Before him he could see the back of Pharcellus's head. Apart from the twin white dark gray horns protruding from the back of his skull and the tip of the ridge from his back, his head was mostly smooth scales, with crimson ridges over his brow. His long neck swelled with each breath, and every now and then little tendrils of smoke would escape his nostrils. Beyond the bright blue sky of Spring beckoned, little wisps of clouds high in the sky dancing like prancing mares.
Once they were well above the Keep, Pharcellus circled a couple of time to gain his bearings, and then started off on a course to the northwest, quickly passing above the forests hugging the side of the valley and then over the first low peaks of the Dragon Mountains. Lindsey stared first down past the dragon's arms which he held close to his chest at the forests with their new growth of blossoms and leaves, and then the first mountains still topped by snow. He then turned backward and gazed between the massive wings with thick leather sails stretched between the bony fingers and down the long tail with a spade tip that bobbed and weaved back and forth in a slow rhythm. He saw fleeting glimpsed of the Keep, the city, and the surrounding countryside before all was obscured by rocky peaks and snowy embankments.
Lindsey sighed and held close to the leather harness draped in skins. The wind was fierce and cool, and growing colder by the moment. His legs already felt stiff from straddling so wide a set of shoulders. Despite this, he felt a strange exhilaration that went beyond the many weeks he'd spent riding the Rheh Talaran through the sky. Now he could almost feel the swinging tail as his own, and the beating wings as from his own back. He smiled and wanted to belch flame.
The gray-scale tilted his head back and in a booming voice said, "Are you comfortable back there? Just shout into my back. I can hear you that way."
Lindsey had barely been able to hear Pharcellus over the driving wind and wondered how shouting into his back would help. Certainly there would be no way anyone could hear him now, especially with his much weaker voice. Still, he did as the dragon instructed, pushing his face against exposed scales along the dragon's neck and shouting. "I am! This is... amazing!"
Pharcellus dipped a little and then swooped higher. His wings turned slightly, catching the air and he glided. Beneath them Lindsey could see numerous valleys cutting through the mountains, most of which ended in sheer cliffs. He'd always heard how impassable the mountains were and now he could see why.
"I can hear you through my body. This will let us talk some!"
"I can barely hear you, Pharcellus."
He tilted his head to one side, and then returned his gaze on the sky before him. The mountains were growing in height the further they moved from Metamor. He beat his wings a few more times and soon they were gliding through a valley with forbidding ridges on either side. Lindsey could see a handful of trees and brush clinging to the slopes, and he thought he spotted a herd of mountain goats descending along a narrow defile.
It was another ten minutes before they passed out the other end of the ravine and emerged into the open air again. Pharcellus glanced back and said, "I know. We'll talk more when we land next. I always give my friends at least three brief stops a day for meals and other things. But if we are attacked in the air, this is how we speak." The last was accented by a puff of smoke that blew past Lindsey so quickly he barely detected the aftertaste of hickory that came with it.
He pressed his already chapping lips to the dragon's hide and shouted, "I understand."
Pharcellus smiled in a fond way, his eyes bright but strangely distant. He seemed to look at the childish Lindsey and see something else entirely. His voice, snatched by the wind, nevertheless felt as warm as the scaly flesh beneath him. "I always hoped one day we'd go back to Arabarb together." After a moment he added, "I really hope we find your family too."
Lindsey's heart trembled then and it took all his self-control, which he discovered he didn't quite have as much as a child as he did an adult, to keep from crying. Instead, he quickly shouted, "So do I!" and then huddled in the harness and wondered with fear and awe what they would find in his home.
April 6, 708 CR
The journey across the Dragon Mountains proceeded without incident. Pharcellus spoke only rarely while they were in flight, and Lindsey no more than a word or two to let the dragon know that he was well. The furs he bore and the heat of the gray-scale's neck and shoulders served to keep him warm despite the cold mountain air and driving wind. It was little wonder that many dragons could breathe fire; how else were they to stay warm when flying so high in such cold places?
Pharcellus kept his promise of three stops a day, but these stops were often on high mountain ridges that afforded Lindsey little privacy. His companion kept his head turned when the new boy relieved himself, but the rest of the time at their stops kept up a constant twittering of his tongue. What they couldn't say during flight gushed forth in their brief pauses in the long journey.
Lindsey spoke a little of the months spent traveling to Marzac and the dangers and wonders they encountered along the way. A few times he began to cry when he thought of Zhypar and how strained their time on that journey had been. If he'd had any inkling that the kangaroo would not return, he would never have treated him so poorly. Pharcellus gently laid a draconic paw on his back at those times, head lowered in sympathy.
The dragon, in his turn, spoke of the mountains, his fellow dragons, and of the many things he had done for Metamor in years past. And he also told him of the many things he had seen in Arabarb in the last two months. He described the sea birds, especially Quoddy who they would meet first in exacting detail, with a delightful fondness that made Lindsey's boyish face smile.
Those little conversations they shared made Lindsey feel young, not just in body, but in spirit again. He'd never really known why Pharcellus had been so friendly and attached to his family - who could ever explain the why of a dragon? But without Zhypar, this was as close a connection as Lindsey had had to his family in years.
"Have you heard anything about my family?" Lindsey asked him as they hunkered down to rest in a small cave on their third night out from Metamor. A few logs Pharcellus had collected in his arms along the way provided for a warm fire and a somber orange light.
Pharcellus lifted his head and craned his neck toward the roof of the cave. A bit of smoke trailed from his nostrils and he said in the quietest voice he'd ever heard the dragon use, "Nay. I have heard nothing."
Lindsey pulled his legs close to his chin - he still wasn't used to it being clean shaven again - and huddled with that miserable thought. But his friend added in a slightly more hopeful tone, "But I have not had a chance to look for them either. I did not know until a few days past that you would be coming back with me." His draconic face creased into a smile, which despite the numerous fangs, comforted the childish Lindsey. "We can look for them together once we've made contact with the resistance. They might know."
"Andrig was involved," Lindsey noted with a bit more hope in his voice too. "No matter what, we should learn something from them."
"We'll be there tomorrow evening. I'll leave a message for Quoddy, and then together we can go."
Lindsey pondered for a moment just how Pharcellus intended to join them when he recalled his appearance in the Long House. He laughed despite himself. "We'll have to do something with your hair. It's even more unruly than mine."
"But I was so proud of the way I made it!"
Lindsey leaned against the dragon's flanks and rubbed one hand along his belly scales. "We can put it in a braid. You looked the right age for it. If necessary, we can probably pass ourselves off as brothers."
Pharcellus blinked and for a moment a look of stupefied wonder filled his blue eyes. The dragon turned his head toward the roof of the cave again and his mouth hung open in wordless mystery. Lindsey had never seen him look so profoundly anguished before. Bewildered, he asked, "What did I say?"
His friend swung his neck around and smiled, the moment passed. "Brothers! An excellent idea! I should have thought of it myself." His snout snaked forward until he nuzzled Lindsey along the cheek very gently. "Now get some sleep. I think we'll start even earlier tomorrow. I'm anxious to arrive."
And so Lindsey, feeling somewhat reassured by the return of Pharcellus's jovial nature, slept nestled against his belly between his paws, with his head and tail curled around to keep him surrounded by warmth. His dreams were pleasant enough each night, though anxious thoughts disrupted his dreams of flying each time.
The final day of flight passed quickly. They stared well before the sun rose, and after a brief meal of bread, meat, and cheese - Pharcellus found a mountain goat for himself - they flew just high enough in the sky to avoid the mountains. Lindsey watched the sun rise far behind them, and then arc overhead and start back down before they were finally clear of the ridges to the north. There, in the early afternoon, he could see the long sloping hills, culverts, and forested gambols of Arabarb. Though he didn't cry this time, his heart ached at the sight. It had been ten years ago now that he'd left for Metamor to aid the people there. Only months after his departure Nasoj's army under the command of Calephas had crushed the old king and taken firm control of his homeland.
Lindsey felt his blood run hot as the misery turned to fierce determination. This would be the first day of the end of Calephas's reign. That he swore to himself.
Once Arabarb was in sight, Pharcellus flew a little lower, wending between the mountain peaks for a good hour before he finally reached a tall ledge on which he could land. Once they set down, Pharcellus turned his head back and said, "I'm going to signal for Quoddy. I will return with him as soon as he sees the signal. If he doesn't see it in a few hours I'll come back anyway to check on you."
Lindsey climbed out of the harness and unhitched his gear. Pharcellus noted and added, "You won't be able to climb down from here. Nor will anything be able to climb up to reach you."
"Just in case," Lindsey replied as he finished undoing the knots and slinging the pack over his shoulder. "I'd like to be prepared."
"Of course." The dragon snorted a bit of smoke toward the mountain face rising up from the ledge. "There should be a small cave you can take shelter in until I return."
Lindsey climbed down and stretched his legs once on solid ground. He patted the dragon's neck with one hand and smiled. "Thank you, Pharcellus. I will see you and Quoddy soon."
The dragon's grin was fierce with delight. "And then we can plan!"
Lindsey stepped back to the wall as his friend launched into the air. He felt a pang of jealousy at the sight, but he didn't have wings so put it out of his mind. He found the cave and nestled within, drawing out his dagger and hatchet and keeping them close. He then pulled a blanket free and wrapped himself within its warmth and huddled down to wait the hours out.
His youthful face was already chapped by four days of flight over the Dragon Mountains, so he did not bother to protect that from the cool air blowing across the grassy ledge. The breeze was slight but insistent. It brought with it the scent of pine needles from below and the scent of delicate flowers that laced the grassy slopes. He recognized several just from those brief wisps of odor. He recalled days long past when his mother would lead him, then a little girl, up those slopes to pick just a few of those flowers to make a bouquet to bring home. Their modest cottage would smell so fresh and bright for weeks after.
And after an especially bitter winter when they had to keep not just the dogs but the hogs as well inside their home, that sort of fragrance was all the more welcome.
At least, he thought with little laugh lines teasing the edge of his lips, they'd never brought the cows inside.
He could see over the edge of the ledge the vast coniferous forest that spread the length of southern Arabarb. Large patches had been cleared for grazing fields a little further to the north, but the lands at the feet of the mountains were left wild and always had been. A tradition of his people to honor the Lhinnorm, the dragons of the mountains who were their friends, or at least, who were friendly.
It would be a hike of some hours before they reached the southernmost settlements. If Pharcellus returned in time, they just might be able to reach one before dark. Though the equinox had only been a few weeks ago, already the days were a few hours longer than the nights. If Misha had to send his rescue team in, they would find it difficult to move in secret with only a few hours of night.
Lindsey leaned his head against the cave wall, keeping the thick blanket between him and the cold stone. What could he expect to find when he did walk the many paths of his homeland? He pondered the question for some time with no clear answer. The reports that Andwyn had passed along, and what Pharcellus had supplemented had not left him with much of a picture. His many letters to his parents over the years had spoken of soldiers, even Lutins, ruining acres of forest they relied upon. Yet in all that, Calephas had seemed to content himself with holding the Arabas river, the pass to the Giantdowns, and the nearby provinces. Was that still the case?
These questions percolated in his mind for a long time. As he considered the many things familiar to him from his youth, he found himself daydreaming of running through the grass fields jumping over sheep and even a few cows with his brother in tow. Or the long days in the woods when his father taught them to hunt game and how to swing an axe with deadly purpose. Smelling his mother's cooking, and then helping her to sew new garments or mend torn ones.
Lindsey spent a good bit of time distracted by the memory of the day that Pharcellus had joined them for one of their feast days. The dragon had reclined in the field and helped them light their bonfire. He took especial care in turning the boar on a spit to make sure he was thoroughly cooked. All the while Lindsey and little Andrig had climbed over him - even then he'd been big enough for them to climb on and pretended they were riding him through the sky. Never once did their parents fear for their safety; Pharcellus had been gentleness itself.
But, even those pleasant memories were interrupted by the day that a stranger from the distant south had come traveling through their land. Attacked and wounded by a bear that Lindsey's father had driven off, the stranger rested and recovered in their home. He spoke such sweet poetry to the red-haired young woman tending his wounds. That girl spent every moment she could with the stranger, listening to his voice, admiring his face, and pondering the deep sadness she saw in his eyes.
Lindsey's fists clenched in the blanket as he remembered how that stranger stayed with them, ever inquisitive of their ways, and ever eager to stay at that young woman's side. When the seasons turned, the stranger-no-more promised to return soon, and the woman had heard the word marriage uttered between him and her father. The woman went to Metamor to meet him there, but the armies of Nasoj under Calephas's commanded conquered her homeland. Not long after, and before her beloved could meet her, Nasoj assaulted Metamor.
And then the Battle of Three Gates made a man out of that love-struck woman, and their hearts were broken.
Lindsey cried as he thought of the only one he'd ever loved. It had been over three months now since his death, but still the pain gnawed at his heart. "Oh, Zhypar... I miss you," he whimpered into the cold air between his sobs.
It took some effort, but Lindsey was able to marshal his thoughts into a coherent whole and he even formulated a sort of plan by the time that he caught sight of Pharcellus circling through the air in a wandering zig-zag. He shifted position to watch him better, wondering for a while what he was doing before he realized that his friend was pacing a small white bird that flew considerably lower in the sky. Lindsey smiled and felt a surge of relief. It was the gull Quoddy.
He stood up and waited just outside the cave for the two fliers to arrive. Pharcellus spread his wings wide and landed with a solid whump that made the boy grab the rock behind him to steady himself. The dragon puffed warm smoke in his direction and his blue eyes brightened like a pair of dinner plates filled with blueberry preserves. "I have returned! Are you warm enough still?"
"Aye," Lindsey nodded, pulling the blanket close around his shoulders. "It would be warmer if I had any sun here, but this whole ledge is in the shade."
The dragon glared at the ledge as if it had deliberately hid itself from the sun's warming rays. "I thought you would like to see your home while you waited."
Lindsey smiled faintly to his much larger friend. "I did. I remember many things. Thank you."
Pharcellus smiled one more time, then craned his neck behind him and moved out of the way, long tail swinging over Lindsey's head as he turned around. The gull swooped down and settled on the grassy ledge with a quick flap of his wings. He shook himself once, then began to swell in size. Soon he was as a little bigger than Lindsey with little fingers at the end of his wing like Jessica had, a wide almost human chest, and long legs ending in webbed, yellow feet. He folded his gray feathered wings behind his back and bobbed his yellow beak toward Lindsey. "You must be Lindsey. My name is Quoddy. Pharcellus tells me that Metamor has sent you to kill Calephas."
Lindsey's eyes widened but he still nodded. "I do not look like much, but I was not always a child. Nor a man. I grew up here in Arabarb."
Quoddy's intense yellow eyes widened slightly in his white face, and a slight smile creased the edge of his beak. "Well, then you have a very beautiful country. My brothers Lubec and Machias think so too. But how do you think you are going to be able to get close to Calephas?"
"I am a handsome young boy and he is a sick, deviant of a man. I will use his vice against him."
Quoddy, if it were possible, appeared to pale. "That's horrible!"
"Aye, it is horrible. But it is what I am going to do."
"And we're here to help make sure he can," Pharcellus said in a low rumble.
The gull began to nod slowly as he swallowed. "I... I guess so. What do you want to do?"
Lindsey looked toward the forests and frowned. "Andwyn told me that you have contacted individuals in the resistance here in southern Arabarb. I need to meet with them. Can we reach them tonight on foot?"
Quoddy walked to the edge of the ledge and peered over the woods with a slightly tilted head. He squawked once and then half hopped half flew back to them. "It's a long walk, but we can do it. Are you sure you don't want Pharcellus to fly you?"
Lindsey shook his head. "Just to somewhere we can climb down. Pharcellus, show him."
The dragon leaned back on his hind legs and lifting his forepaws in a gesture of welcome, he quickly shrank down in size, the gray of his scales melting into a nondescript tunic, while the red highlighting his eye ridges and spinal saw turned into a wild mass of hair and long sash. Where before had been a beast of legend now stood a young man old enough to begin courting or even marrying.
Quoddy almost fell on his tail feathers in surprise. "I didn't know you could change shape! Why didn't you do that when we traveled together? It could have made some of the sleeping arrangements a little more comfortable."
But the new human just laughed, a hearty pleasant sound that seemed out of place in the barren scrub of the mountainside. "I only learned this art on my last trip back to Metamor. The elders of my kin finally granted my request after years of saying I was too young to learn it. It's nice to be able to speak to you both face to face."
"We're still up too high to climb down safely," Lindsey pointed out with a growing impatience. "So change back until we're down there."
Pharcellus's human face appeared to pout for a moment, but he sprouted back into a good-sized dragon so quickly and with such enthusiasm that it was hard to imagine he'd been disappointed in the slightest. Lindsey noted that the harness had changed with him, and blinked in surprise when he realized it. After a moment of gawking, he turned back to the gull and asked, "So, will you be able to guide us to your contact?"
Quoddy glanced back at the forest and nodded one last time, his own eyes still wide from Pharcellus's transformation. "I usually fly there, but I think I can." He turned to Lindsey and sketched a brief bow. "It is a great delight to have another Keeper here to talk to. I was beginning to wonder if Metamor would ever send anyone to help us."
"We've had some troubles at Metamor lately." At the gull's questioning gaze, Lindsey lifted one hand and added, "I'll tell you along the way." He grabbed his pack and stuffed the blanket back inside. Pharcellus lowered his neck and allowed the boy to climb into the harness. "Now, let's find a place we can walk down to the forest."
Pharcellus gushed a little smoke and grinned. "I know just the spot!" Quoddy had to crouch against the rock face to avoid being swept off his feet by the power of the dragon's launch.