CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Draakhaven

The next afternoon, Donnova awoke with a headache and a dry mouth in a room at an inn. The day before, after a long bath and longer sleep, she had visited with old acquaintances, both dragon and human, before spending the rest of the night drinking and reminiscing with Vek. They shared stories of their recent escapades. Donnova told of her latest wayward journey. She would have found none of those hardships if she had stayed here, he had reminded her.

She jerked her head up when she realized she didn't immediately know what she had done with the sword. Stabbing pain shot through her neck to her temples.

"Ohh," she groaned and scolded herself inwardly for the night's bout.

But there was the sword, on the floor next to her cot. She dragged it closer and used it to help steady herself as she rose to stand. Feeling her legs under her again, she straightened her clothes and fought to see straight.

She thought of lying back down and sleeping the rest of the day away, but decided against it. She wasn't about to let a hint of downfall take hold of her � not again, not now. Last night's binge was for old times' sake. Aimless as she now felt, she still felt a sense of looming purpose.

There was also the thought of simply settling here and forgetting everything else. That would make Vek happy, at least.

She walked out into the thinly cloud-veiled light of the suns. Although her eyes were slow to adjust, she was sure she saw a hooded man in a dark monk's robe on the other side of the wide thoroughfare. He caught her eye simply because he looked out of place . . . also she thought him too still amid the bustle around him. She saw no one else dressed as he was. She blinked her eyes to try to clear them, but then he was gone. She stepped further from her door and looked around, squinting as she tried to find him among the crowds. She was so distracted that she didn't see the thick point of tail she stumbled over.

Forgetting the mysterious man, she cursed as she strode uneasily around the corner to find the head of this heedless beast. When she found it, her anger became amusement. She bent and tapped between the horns with a knuckle.

Vek pried one gooey eye open.

"Don't tell me this is as far as you made it," Donnova teased.

"Suppose I am rather in the way," he mumbled. He tried to prop himself up. "Tripped on a wing, you see. Couldn't decide which library I meant to fly over."

"Well, there is only the one," she reminded him.

He tried to smile. "My point exactly."

"Come on, we'll walk it off together. Need a hand?"

"Many," he said with a grunt, "but I'll manage."

Wearily, he peeled himself off the ground and shook his head. "Ah! Wrong move." He groaned and sat up on his hind legs and held his head for a moment.

"I feel your pain, my friend," she said, feeling truly sympathetic.

Vek finally opened his eyes and looked at her. "I'm not walking through the square with you looking like that. Have you had a proper look at yourself, my dear? Here, be still."

Before Donnova could protest, he bent down and licked through her hair with the flat of his tongue. He sat back again and cocked his head, having another look. "Much better," he said, satisfied.

"I suppose I should thank you for that?" she said through clenched teeth. She ran a hand through the wet, gooey dragon spit, studied it, and then looked to Vek with disgust.

He nodded smartly. "You're welcome." He stepped past her, and then stopped and turned his head. "Coming?"

Donnova sighed and joined him.

The city was alive with activity. There was the usual bustle of trade in the main square. It was noted as being the largest town square of all the cities of the Realm, made to accommodate their large, winged friends. The mountain dragons were a big part of life here. They brought in fish, herbs that grew only in the mountains, errant cattle, anything of value to trade � for books, mostly. These dragons were avid readers. (Vek was especially proud of his copy of The Mystical Path to the Golden Grimoire.) They also participated in sports, dramatic plays, and politics. And they were very savvy debaters with a love of philosophy.

The children were especially fond of them for the stories they would tell, even more for the rides they would give them. And there was always a willing flier � with parents' permission, of course.

Donnova stopped to listen where a dragon was telling a story to a circle of children. His little listeners were captivated.

"Tiamat enraged, filled with an evil motion, said, 'Let us make monsters that they may go out and do battle, bearing weapons that spare not, charmed with the spells of ancient sorcery. Know that our years are the years of war, and our days are measured as battles.

"The monster heaved and raised its back, struck forth in five directions, spitted ancient words of Power, screamed the ancient incantations. . . ."

Donnova recognized it as one of many stories from a collection known as The Trials of Tiamat, a book Vek had given her.

Suddenly, a little red-haired girl with many freckles came running up, shouting to Vek, who immediately froze and cringed.

"Oh no . . . Helen," he whispered through stiff lips.

They let the girl catch up to them.

"Vek! Vek! My mum had the baby! It's a girl! I'm a big sister now!" she cried as she skipped and jumped at his side.

"Well, congratulations to your family! I suppose soon there'll be two hellions running around, brightening my day," he said with mock enthusiasm.

"Silly dragon. There can't be two Helens! I'm the only Helen. Her name is Angela," she informed him, not having caught the quip.

"Let us hope her name shall befit her behavior," Vek muttered.

Donnova chuckled.

"Who's your friend?" asked Helen, craning her neck to see the stranger on the other side of Vek. Helen smiled and waved.

"This is Donnova. She came to have her scales and claws polished to look nice for the lads," he told her.

"Yes, and I should probably have my fangs sharpened as well," Donnova added. "They've worn dull of late."

"People don't have scales and claws and fangs!" the girl chided.

"Well, maybe they should. Look, shouldn't you be in school, love?" Vek asked.

"School was over an hour ago, you silly dragon."

Vek's eyes widened. "Oh . . . yes. Dear me, is it that late already?" He looked accusingly at Donnova, who shrugged guiltily in return.

"Well, I have to go. I'm a big sister now, so I have a lot of responsibillies," she said proudly. "Bye, Vek! Bye, Donna!" the girl shouted, already running off.

Vek stopped to rub his temples. "And as soon as your mother is well on her feet again, I'll have one less 'responsibilly'."

Donnova looked at him inquisitively. "You've been watching her?"

He nodded. "When needed."

"Surely she has other family who could take care of her."

"I volunteered, actually," he admitted.

She laughed. "Why?"

"Oh, you know, females like the responsible type. Thought I'd be clever and make an impression."

"Did you?"

"Oh, indeed!" he asserted. "That is, until the incident with the moss-crawlers."

Donnova lifted an eyebrow. "I won't ask."

"Best not to," Vek avowed.

They walked on, saying hellos to merchants and chatting with friendly faces. Donnova nibbled cake while Vek downed a few raw meat selections. All the while, Donnova was trying to think through decisions, weighing the pros and cons of what options she felt were left to her in life. As they came to the edge of the city, she made herself speak up.

"Vek?" she said.

The dragon gave her his full attention at the sound of her tone.

"The story circle we passed earlier reminded me of a story your grandfather once told me. The story of the Ancress who lived in the mountains. He said the solennial offering is still taken to her cave, though she's believed long passed from this Realm."

Vek nodded. "Yes. Even now, when the hatchlings come of age, they are taken to the Ancress' dwelling. It's more of a clan history lesson these days, rather than sanctification. None has seen her for many generations."

"Would you take me there?" She felt silly, asking such a thing, and she turned away, unable to look Vek in the eye.

Vek chuckled. "Seeking spiritual guidance, are you?"

"I don't know. Maybe," she answered noncommittally.

"Well, this is a side of you I never thought to see! A pilgrimage, eh?" They looked at each other then, and he quickly dropped the jest. "Of course I shall take you. It would be my pleasure."

(Author's Note: The "excerpt" from "The Trials of Tiamat" is a modified, brief collection of lines taken from the Necronomicon.)