When We Were Dragons Read online

  Dilla-dale had mentioned a twin, and in my mind’s eye, I saw another war, one playing itself out in the frozen regions to the north. In a blinding, white, wind-blown landscape, two giants—made of precious stones—grappled hand in hand, endeavoring to overthrow the other. Yes, Cerras and Marrik were twins, but they were enemies as well. The outcome was still undecided.

  Karen, as nonchalantly as she could, let go of my hand and began to move slowly toward Charlie. I wondered how long the boy had been under Lane’s spell. I wondered why he hadn’t told us about his dreams…that he’d known about Lane. But the Eye had great power, and its influence had affected Charlie deeply.

  I reached out for Karen to stay beside me. I wondered what plan she had in mind, one that excluded me only because she couldn’t tell me. She was taking a risk, saw an opening, perhaps, and she was acting on it.

  “Lane, please,” I said. “I’m begging you. This is madness.”

  “That’s what makes you so pathetic, Justin,” she said. “That you’re a dragon, and you still have the weakness to beg.”

  Lane shook her head. She held the saber by her side, still wet with Louis’ blood.

  For a second, I saw Gill and Karen’s eyes lock. Gill nodded a single time, as if the two of them were telepathically constructing a plan. Karen kept her chin firm and nodded a single time without Lane noticing.

  In the next moment, Gill said something to Lane, then turned and laughed loudly at her expense. It was enough to send Lane into a maddened fury, and in return, she kicked Gill’s cage as hard as she could, sending Karen’s brother over the edge, and into the magma below.

  Karen did not scream but bolted toward Charlie, her face resolute.

  I had to move fast, and I had to act now…

  But Karen was steps ahead of me. Tears of rage fueled her eyes. Louis and Lila had already suffered a grueling fate, and now her brother was gone as well.

  Lane—as I saw in Gill’s victorious eyes before he plummeted to his death—had provided the opportunity Karen needed. She paused too long, watching Gill’s descent into the magma, and in that time, Karen had reached out and grabbed Charlie’s hand, pulling him toward her. Lane sensing something awry, turned just in time to thwart Karen’s progress.

  Tor-Latress whipped his head in Karen’s direction, hissing violently. His shadowy form darted over her head, which prevented her from getting Charlie back to me and out of the cave. Retreating to me with Charlie had been her plan, and in my horror, I saw this, too, had failed.

  My only hope was to advance and catch Lane off guard, to face her, Tor-Latress, and the power of the Eye with my flaming breath.

  The cliff trembled, and again, I saw—in my mind—Cerras and his brother, battling through landscapes of frozen ice.

  I ran forward, but everything seemed to slow in a horrific sequence of events. My legs failed to move fast enough.

  The first thing I noticed was Karen’s foot lashing out because of Tor-Latress. Still a mask of shadows, he attacked her like a swarm of bats. Her foot stuck the Eye of Cerras, sending it toward the edge of the cliff. My eyes widened as I watched it drop out sight.

  As before, when I’d first seen Charlie in the cave, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me—the only thing that explained what followed.

  Carl Underhill, a ghost, materialized, his face a mask of fury. He stood on the cliff’s platform just several feet away from Lane.

  Tor-Latress shrieked and hissed, looking frantic. His red eyes smoldered with anger, trying to decide if he should fend me off as I advanced, or defend his master. The shadowy beast was undecided.

  Karen grabbed Charlie’s hand and began to move my way toward the cave entrance as Tor-Latress unraveled himself from her head. In the same instant, Lane reached out and clutched Karen’s arm, holding her back. Carl—somehow, with physicality, even as a ghost—rushed forward with his arms extended. His plan was to push Lane over the side and into the magma.

  But that isn’t what happened.

  Carl’s plan backfired horribly. He didn’t realize Lane had clutched Karen’s arm until it was too late, and Karen, I am sure, in her panic—thought only of keeping a tight grip on Charlie to keep him safe.

  I, Justin Silas of Amberlye, was not quick enough in any light. I reached them all too late.

  Carl had succeeded in driving Lane over the edge, but unfortunately, she took Karen and Charlie with her, and all three descended in a horrifying chain into the magma below.

  I screamed in horror. My hand reached out, but everything was moving in slow motion. My fingers barely brushed the fabric of Charlie’s cape as he descended.

  I braced myself against the edge of the cliff, falling onto my stomach, and skidded to a halt before I, too, went sailing over. I peered over the edge, shrieking in defiance as Charlie, Karen, and Lane plummeted. Tears sprang to my eyes. I wailed Karen’s name. I watched, helpless, as the lava covered their heads and took them down.

  The silence that followed was maddening, and I broke it with a rage-filled scream! My hand reached out, clutching empty air, and dragon tears spilled down my cheeks.

  In seconds, the scene had unfolded. In seconds, it was over. Lane was dead. In my astonished grief, Karen was gone. And Cerras help me, so was Charlie.

  I was stunned, numb, my eyes wide in disbelief, shock, and betrayal. I thought about Holly and how I was going to explain this to her. My mind was a slate of astonished grief. This hadn’t happened, I thought. None of it. It moved too quickly to be anything close to real.

  But it had.

  I turned, unable to believe Lane, Karen, and Charlie had exited the world when seconds before, they’d all been standing on the cliff edge.

  I looked at Carl, tears of shock in my eyes. His face was a pleading countenance, begging forgiveness. By the look, I could tell he was just as surprised as I by the ghastly turn of events. He did not speak. I wondered if he even could.

  Carl looked to the side and over the edge. He shook his head, looked back at me, and fell to his knees. He buried his ghostly hands to his face and wept without making a sound.

  I had lost a love. Carl had lost a son for a second time.

  I had forgotten about Cerras and the magic Eye. It, too, had fallen into the magma below. As it did, the trembling I’d felt earlier was now a violent rumble, shaking the inside of the mountain. Pillars of molten, orange liquid rocketed through the air. A deafening roar followed.

  I thought of staying. What had I to live for? But Tor-Latress shrieked, bringing me out of my sorrow, my insurmountable grief. The evil shadow was still alive. I turned, facing the demon, and the cliff’s platform split, crumbling at my feet.

  In my mind again, I saw the struggle between two giants, and one fell backwards, blanketed in snow. I couldn’t tell if it was Marrik or Cerras. In the next second, however, I got my answer.

  A massive hand made of diamonds and gems—which could only belong to the hand of a giant—emerged from the magma and closed around Tor-Latress, crushing the shadow into lifeless dust, then retreated into the magma again. Despite everything, it was small satisfaction.

  I had only seconds before the mountain exploded. The walls continued to shake and tremble. I looked at Carl. He was still on his knees. His palms were up, his face wet with tears, begging my forgiveness still.

  But what can you say to a ghost?

  I shook my head. I transformed, took to the air, and flapped my wings as hard as I could, retreating from the cave, and into the smoky sky. As I did, the entire mountainside exploded behind me. A shower of lava, flame, and rock knocked me to the ground, senseless, three-hundred feet below.

  9.

  His Hand in Mine

  Dilla-dale is schooling Mellicent and Jody in the history of New Earth and Paramis Altered. They have taken solace in helping—with the aid of a little magic—to rebuild Dilla-dale’s tower. Dilla-dale is very happy about it, and he has taken to the children as teachers will take to their students. Mellicent and Jody have gra
duated from the First Stage. They both wear white robes now, novices in the endless instruction of eternal wisdom and magic. They look good in those robes, too, I must say, much better than the ridiculous, unfashionable Earth-garments they used to wear. The robes were a pleasant gift, and they enjoy them immensely. They’re good kids, and they’re growing wiser and taller as the days go by. Mellicent can hold stones and make them twirl in circles above her palm, much to Jody’s chagrin. Jody will learn this trick as well, I have no doubt, and there will be magical competitions in the days to follow between the two sisters.

  With the destruction of the Eye of Cerras, much to my surprise, the world did not fall into pandemonium as I’d thought. In fact, the spell seems to have lifted. Lane’s influence vanished along with Tor-Latress.

  There are survivors, and dragons and mortals are no longer at war.

  When I returned to the cabin, alone, after the destruction of the mountain, I knew Holly, Mellicent, and Jody, could tell what had happened. Five of us had gone away, including Charlie. And I, Justin Silas, was the only one to return. I did not want to return. I did not want to be the only one to tell them about what had happened and add more sorrow to what was already a difficult time for all of us.

  Lila was gone, along with Louis. Karen and Charlie were gone. I held onto Holly for a long time, and we cried together in our loss and pain. We had both lost people we loved dearly in the short time we’d known each other.

  I cannot describe how much I miss Karen. Since then, I have not been the same. An emptiness resides with me now nothing can replace. I have mourned, but I feel this mourning will go on for some time still.

  I told Holly that Carl had helped in destroying Lane. I told her all I could, while leaving out the more horrifying aspects of how Gill looked, and what exactly had happened to Louis and Lila. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to tell anyone…that Charlie was gone, her small Harry Houdini.

  Things are quieter now, and I suppose that’s a good thing. I’m not sure. We have no choice but to find harmony where once two planets had been ripped asunder, then became one again. I think maybe things will mend themselves in time. I don’t know. It’s what we have to hope for.

  We are still in the cabin despite its cramped size, and I stay with Holly, watching over her, Mellicent, and Jody, while helping Dilla-dale in any way I can.

  We haven’t lost everything. We’ve gained a lot, in fact. I try to tell myself this, but it’s hard.

  I no longer have the power to transform. I am a seven-foot reptile without wings. Somehow, with the destruction of Cerras, I have lost my ability to change. I always thought my true nature was to have wings instead of legs; being a dragon is what makes me who and what I am, after all. But for whatever reason, that particular talent is gone. I can no longer breathe fire as well. Life goes on, I suppose.

  The Eyes of Cerras, however, are everywhere. Lights are visible. In some aspects, I wonder if it was Cerras’ plan all along, no doubt, far outweighing Lane’s. I do not think his Eye was destroyed. I do not think Cerras is gone. I believe that there is more to magic than I can comprehend.

  More and more stars randomly spot the landscape, shedding light for all to see. They are Cerras, watching over us. I realize that now. They are bright, and they are plentiful. If I could fly again, I would take to the sky, soar under the clouds, and see how the world looks, replete with their glorious illumination. I’m sure it must be a magnificent sight.

  The days pass, and spring turns to summer. Our grief and loss heal with the passing of time. It’s been an experience, since the collision, too mesmeric for words. We try to make the best of what we can.

  We had another rally, a meeting with Granger, Preston, Dilla-dale, and even Murrochoe. It proved different with Lane’s demise. Riots did not follow, much to everyone’s relief. Murrochoe was how I remembered him: ancient, but his eyes were white and silver now. He made a brief appearance and went quickly into seclusion again. I was surprised Dilla-dale did not follow, but he is needed now, and despite what he says—being and active participant in the community does him good, even if he does grumble about it.

  On a sunny afternoon in late summer, I was sitting outside on the porch swing with Holly beside me. Holly and I had put the swing together earlier that week, fixing it with chains under the overhanging eave of the porch. We enjoyed spending the late afternoons sitting in it, while watching the sun go down. I always think my weight will pull the screws right out of the woodwork, but so far, it has held.

  The passing of Lane, Karen, Gill, and Charlie, were three months behind us now. Grief does not pass quickly. I guess, in some way, Lane would be pleased with our quiet suffering, and I didn’t enjoy allowing her any kind of victory.

  Mellicent and Jody were outside with us. They sat on the steps of the porch playing a game Dilla-dale had taught them using magic stones and small branches from ancient trees. It was supposed to relax and stimulate the mind at the same time. They looked wise and older in their white robes. Dilla-dale had given them some time off to ponder the eccentricities and complexities of life. His tower was now finished, a labor which had taken some amount of time, but he was happier now having a place to study again. We visited him sometimes, always interrupting him as he poured over ancient volumes in at his large oak table. He’s been enjoying history books about Earth. He is fascinated with George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. He says Lincoln, although melancholy, was an astounding figure. Dilla-dale is fascinated with America’s historical figures. One day, he approached Holly with a thick tome in his hand, and said, “Who is this Jesus fella? I would like to meet him!” Holly laughed and laughed for a long time, while Dilla-dale and I simply looked at each other and shrugged.

  Sitting on the porch swing, a beige-colored Cadillac pulled into the driveway. This was rare. We did not see many people driving cars anymore since gasoline was scarce. Somehow, however—perhaps because of Cerras—electricity had been restored, at least in some parts of the world. This made Holly very happy. She was able to return to an old love of cooking and baking, which she did often. I still don’t know the names of the pastries she makes, but they are savory, sweet, and extremely delicious.

  We all looked up. Granger was sitting behind the wheel. Someone else was sitting in the back of the car, but I couldn’t make out who it was.

  The driver’s side door opened. The sun gleamed brightly off the chrome bumper and windows. Granger smiled, his teeth bright white under his dark skin. His black hair reflected wetly in the spiky spongy way it does. “Greetings,” he said, cheerfully. “You guys in the mood for a visitor?”

  I raised my eyebrows and looked at Holly. She looked at me and shrugged. “Sure,” she said, turning back to Granger.

  Granger nodded, still smiling. He seemed pleased with himself. He went to the Cadillac and opened the back door. The figure stepped out and onto the pavement.

  Or did it?

  I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. My heart surged, a sudden swell of emotion. Again, my eyes were playing tricks on me. They seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

  Magic is a strange thing. Despite where I’ve come from, it still surprises me.

  I noticed the top hat first, rising above the frame of the car door. I saw the cape unfurl. Beside me, Holly gasped in surprise, her hands going to her face.

  But something was amiss, something unnatural, a cruel trick even.

  Of course, it was Charlie. Who else could it be? But when Granger shut the door, and the boy stood there, I heard the life go out of Holly next to me. It was cruel, whatever it was, and I wondered what Granger was thinking by doing this to us. When I looked at the mayor, however, he was still smiling, as if he and Charlie were sharing a joke.

  It was a top hat and cape, but other than these pieces of attire, there was nothing else there. The boy—his flesh, his face—were completely invisible. The top hat and cape moved on their own.

  We were looking at a ghost.

  Holly, beside me, be
gan to cry. Mellicent and Jody stood up from the porch steps. When I looked at them, they too, were smiling as Granger was. They all knew something Holly and I did not.

  Charlie walked up to Holly and me, his cape unfurling around his ankles. An elegant magician, he’d acquired a shiny black cane, and as his steps indicated, he was using it perfectly, twirling it with elegance and grace. His stride—although I couldn’t see his legs or feet—was gallant as he walked. The cane twirled with invisible hands.

  Charlie stopped before the porch swing, his hat turning slightly one way, then the other, looking at me, then at Holly.

  “Howdy all,” Charlie’s voice emerged from under the hat, from a non-existent face.

  Or was it non-existent, I thought?

  Holly went pale. She was crying, in a way—I’m sure overjoyed, and in another—wondering why Charlie was here. Was this only a visit? Was this his ghost, a last, parting, magic trick?

  “Why is everyone so glum?” he asked, his youthful, high voice brimming with charm.

  I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I resisted.

  “Charlie?” Holly said. “Is that really you?”

  “Of course it’s me, Mom,” Charlie said. “Don’t you recognize your own kid when you see him? Jeez!”

  Mellicent and Jody laughed. They were crying, too, I saw, tears of joy.

  “Hi, Charlie,” Mellicent said.

  “Yeah,” Jody said. “What’s up, Charlie? Where have you been?”

  The top of the cape, where it rolled over his shoulders, moved slightly upwards in a virtually, invisible shrug. “Well,” he said. “Not all magic tricks are so easy, you know? The hand is quicker than Cerras’ Eye, my friends.” Charlie giggled.