With a resigned sigh, Misa took a step back, but continued to regard the bulge in my pants. “This better be good,” she muttered, then turned for the entrance to the cave. I snatched up a candle and followed.
Misa stepped back into the cabinet, and lifted a latch that opened the door to the front of the cabinet. She stepped through. I took a few deep breaths to try to get things to settle down below the beltline, then stepped through myself. Misa and her brothers had all piled out the door to the shack, and I rushed to follow them.
“There!” one of them shouted, pointing to the south. “It went that way!”
“I can’t see anything,” said Misa. “Are you sure? You boys haven’t been into the yam brandy again, have you?”
“No,” said Kai, who was probably the most levelheaded of the group. “It was a dark shape right up in the sky. It made a horrible roaring noise, and you could see its eyes glowing red.”
“Come on!” shouted Rin. “If we climb the hill, we might still be able to see it!”
I looked at the cliff face into which the shack had been set. “Hill” seemed to be a bit of an understatement, and I really couldn’t see how we were going to be able to climb it. The Malveens must have known a hidden route to the top, because they soon disappeared around the side of the shack. I followed, and was soon scrambling up a cleft in the rock that allowed for a relatively shallow ascent with decent handholds.
When I emerged at the top, the whole family was arrayed along the cliff edge, facing to the south. “There, there!” shouted Ren, pointing to the southwest. I looked to where he was pointing. I saw a brief flash of red in the purplish twilight sky, then it was gone.
There was a great commotion amongst the Malveen boys as to who had seen it first, where they saw it and what it was doing. Misa managed to get her brothers calmed down and tried to piece together a coherent story from them. Apparently, all five of them had finished rousting ingredients for dinner and were on their way back to the barracks when the dragon first materialized.
All of them said that they had seen the red-eyed dragon flying high up in the sky. All except Pat, who claimed that the dragon had swooped down close and spoken to him, saying that a fortune in gold and jewels was hidden beneath a rock in the woods nearby. Dunbarton, who had been with Pat the entire time, said that this was just another of Pat’s tall tales – although he could have sworn that the dragon’s eyes were green.
We climbed carefully back down the trail from the clifftop and loaded back into the shed. The boys had rousted a bunch of small potatoes and onions, three cabbages, as well as several rabbits and a pheasant. Misa laughed when she saw that.
“You know that if Duke Noe’s men caught us poaching his pheasants, it would be instant death for all of us,” she pointed out.
“If the Duke’s men caught us doing anything, it would mean instant death for all of us,” replied Kai, who had brought down the pheasant on the wing, and was justifiably proud. “Pheasant or no pheasant.”
“Too true,” laughed Misa. “At least tonight we can eat like dukes. Let us get cooking – we do not want our guest to go hungry.”
Hungrier, I thought. My stomach was once again growling at the notion of a hot dinner.
“Do you want me to do the cooking. Misa?” asked Dunbarton.
“No, I will do it,” she replied. “I have some things to think about. Cooking helps relax my mind. Go get the cookfire going.”
The boys scraped up wood for a fire, and Rin set up a tripod and pot over the fire once it had gotten going. Misa busied herself with the stew while the rest of us lounged around the fire, drinking ale. There was much discussion of the dragon: how big it was, the nature of the roaring noise it made and whether or not it had actually breathed fire. They asked me what I thought, but I had to say that I hadn’t really seen anything but a quick red flash in the night sky as the dragon had disappeared from view.
By the time the stew was done, I was pretty loaded, having consumed two more mugs of the ale on a still-empty stomach. Finally, Pat emerged from the shack with a stack of wooden bowls and the stew was ladled out and passed around. It tasted heavenly. I hadn’t eaten that well in – well, I literally couldn’t remember.
We sat around the fire, with Misa sitting very close to me. As the meal progressed, she scooched closer, until we were shoulder to shoulder. My mind went back to our interaction in the cave, and where that might have led. Where it might lead still, I realized.
I knew I was on the right track when we had finished the stew. Misa stood up and announced, “You boys clean this mess up. Scott and I are going back into the cave. We have some important matters to discuss.” This elicited some snickering from the boys, but a sharp glace from Misa put a quick end to it. “Come, Traveler,” she said, giving me a meaningful glance. “The appearance of this dragon changes things.”
I followed her back through the secret cupboard and into the cave. Once again, she ignited the Font of Light and led me back to the pillow nook. I expected her to snuggle up to me right away, but instead she sat down across from me and fixed me with a solemn stare.
“Things have gotten very serious,” she said. “I was waiting for the third sign. The appearance of the dragon was it. Our land is in grave danger. There is someone who has summoned up terrible forces that could cause much death and destruction.”
This was definitely not the pillow talk I’d been expecting. My mind swam with questions. I chose the most obvious one to voice. “Uh, so do you get dragons around here a lot?” I immediately realized how stupid this sounded, but it was too late now.
“Oh, there has not been a dragon in a very, very long time,” she said. “My gran once told me that her gran had heard stories about dragons when she was a little girl. Not for a very long time indeed.”
“You know, Missy McSween made mention of her gran,” I said. “How she knew of, um, esoteric things. Things most people can’t see or don’t understand. It sounds like your gran is the same way. The question is: are you the same way.”
Misa gave me another one of those long, deep looks before replying. “My gran is what is called a Fern Seer. So am I. It is a gift that is passed down on the female side of the family. My mother was quite strong.”
You say ‘was,’” I observed. “Did something happen to her?”
Misa looked away. “She was killed,” she said in a small voice. “I … I would prefer not to discuss it.”
“What does a fern seer do?” I asked, trying to change the subject. “Spot plants in the woods?”
She scowled for a moment, then burst out laughing. “No, not that kind of fern,” she said. “It is an old word meaning ‘far.’ We see things far away, even different worlds.”
“Is that how you, um, know, Missy McSween from my world?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “Yes. In a way. Her world is very close, so it is easier for me to see her. However, it is not really seeing or talking in a normal sense; it is more like thoughts that I can understand. Some are louder and clearer – like Missy’s – and others are more difficult to follow.”
“So, what’s going on?” I asked. There was the Question of the Week – I really had no idea what the hell was going on since I woke up in Mr. Lucas’ history class. Although by my timeline, that happened less than a week ago, it seemed like years. Also, it probably happened hundreds of years in the future from the timeline I was in now. I was very confused, and hoped that Misa would be able to shed some light on the subject.
It was not to be. “I really do not know what is going on,” she said. “All I know with certainty is that there is a malign force in the land that seeks to do a great deal of harm.”
“It’s that wizard Anlar Ellas,” I said. “Him and that Duke Noe. It must be!”
Misa shook her head. “One thing I do know is that it is someone other than Noe and Ellas. Someone – or something – even more powerful. It has concealed itself with a magic that not even I and my Fern Seer sisters can discern.”
“Yes, well, that makes sense,” I said. “Ellas told me that there was some other power, even more evil than himself, that was threatening the, um, realm. Or whatever. He really seemed alarmed by it.”
“Now we have a dragon,” said Misa. “That can’t be the power itself – it’s just the third portent.” She looked around, frowning. “I must admit that I am at a loss. I wonder if there is anyone else who can help us.”
She sighed. “Oh, it has been a very long day. It is almost time for rest. Before that, however …” She leaned over and pulled a fancy bottle from underneath a cushion. It was made of bright red and pink glass, with a swoopy, curvy profile that reminded me of old reruns of “I Dream of Jeannie.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“A bedtime draught.”
I held up my hand. “No thanks. I’m already mostly whammed from that ale. Any more and I might puke.”
“No,” she said. “This is a restorative draught, helps clear the mind and relax the muscles. Good for bedtime. Good for girls.”
“But I’m a boy.”
“I know,” she said. “Good for you, too. Now drink.”
She held the bottle to my lips and tilted it up. The liquid that poured out was thick – almost like syrup. It was simultaneously eye-wateringly tangy and cloyingly sweet – like liquified SweeTarts. “Whoa!” I said. “That’s something else.”
“The taste does take some getting used to,” she agreed, then took a healthy swig herself. She smacked her lips, then replaced the cork and returned the bottle to its hiding place. She gave me a long, thoughtful look. “How are you feeling Scott Gray?”
For a moment, all I could do was look at her eyes. They were large and had gone a deep, dark blue that reminded me of a picture of the Baltic Sea. They also seemed to be looking into my soul, and were twinkling with delighted mischief.
“Feel?” I said hazily. Everything seemed to have a fuzzy pink halo. “I feel … I dunno … pretty chill, y’know? But also …” Also what? My whole body was relaxed as a rug on Valium, but I also felt lively. I could feel blood rushing through my veins, and it seemed like I could jump up and run ten miles – if it weren’t so much more enjoyable to just lie here and relax.
“Anything else?” asked Misa in a husky voice.
My blood seemed to be racing now – and it was getting to all of its favorite places. I could feel an amazing diamond-cutter of an erection practically bursting out of my breeches or pantaloons or whatever the hell they were called. “Um,” I said. “In the words of Burt Reynolds, something’s up.”
“I see,” she said with a secret smile. “Good.” She sat up and removed her smock. Clearly, this was no thirteen-year-old. She smiled widely and leaned down. We embraced, and the rest was lost in a gorgeous pink cloud.