excuses, excuses

I've been very, very sick and on top of that I'm getting ready to join the navy so I won't be around much longer. I'm going to try to keep up with my posts, but since obviously just being sick knocked me out for a month I don't know what being in the navy is going to do to my posts. I will do my best.

Sorry

I've been sick for like three weeks so I'm going to have to promise the next chapter next week. I'm sorry. Thanks for understanding.

Dragon's Apprentice (10)

Part 10

Lynn knew that something was wrong as soon as the bidding started on the first girl and the sounds of the auction began. There were far too many voices and the few glimpses she got as the curtain parted only confirmed her worst fears. This was one of those years where half the bloody world turned out for the auction. Slavers, rich men looking for help for their impossibly large mansions, and who knew who else now stood beyond that curtain. Hundreds, possibly a thousand or more, people had gathered and most of them wouldn’t know her. She was going to sell! She was going to get taken away!
Lynn looked around franticly as reality sank in. She knew she was pretty enough to sell…to anyone who didn’t know the bite of her personality, at any rate. With so many strangers she was bound to go as soon as she stepped out on that stage, but by this point there was no longer any hope of running. There had been girls who had tried to run in the past, a few who had even made it, so careful guards of married village men were now posted all over the place, stoic and unmoved by the tears of many of the other girls lined up behind her. It was too late to get away.
Abruptly rough hands gripped her shoulders and shoved her, all dignity aside, out through the curtain. She’d been so busy panicking that she hadn’t heard her name called. She spun, fully intending to run, only to see her father standing just out of sight of the crowd behind the curtain, staring at her with intense blue-gray eyes and it occurred to her that her parents were counting on her. She didn’t know what they were counting on her for, but they were counting on her and, as there was apparently no escape, the least she could do was face her fate with pride.
Slowly she turned to face the crowd and froze again. There were more people clustered about the stage then she’d ever seen in one place in her life, almost all of them talking, one over the other. The shear noise was astounding, the volume was massive and she had to wonder how anyone heard anything. Even as she stood there the auction continued, people signaling for the next highest bid as the town magistrate called out with more voice then she’d ever heard him use so fast she couldn’t understand him.
She shivered, but still stood as straight as she could and walked over to stand center stage where she gazed coldly out over the clusters of people. She tried to gather her best ice queen stare and felt that she managed fairly well until she spotted him.
He stood at least a head above the others around him in a space that had been cleared for him. In one hand he clutched the reigns of a golden horse with white mane. The horse and man both stared at her, the man with an intensity that was almost frightening. He was silent within the throng, unmoving, an island in a sea of human bodies, just listening to several other bid on her, but just as it seemed a man dressed in leather and chains was about to win the bid he put in a bid that had caused a thick silence to descend over the crowd like a blanket of snow on a winter night. All heads turned to stare at him. Even Lynn had never heard such a sum of money come from a human mouth. A dragon’s, yes, but never a human.
She stared at him with the rest of the town until the sound of a gavel pounding broke the silence.
“Sold!” The town magistrate bellowed and almost everyone jumped.
Lynn swallowed hard and thought again of running, but even as she thought it she spotted the men coming to collect her and guide her to her new husband who was already being ushered off to sign papers. Before they could reach her, though, she turned on her own and headed for the steps that led over to the coral where those that had made purchases were taken to sign all of the correct paperwork. It had been a horse coral, one of the small ones used for training colts, but now it had several old, battered desks pushed close to the fencing, each with a man seated behind it. The steps to the stage led directly down into it and she went willingly, proudly, to stand at the coral’s center, not looking at anyone even though her mother drifted within her line of sight, tears streaming down her face.

Dragon's Apprentice

For those of you that check, I'm sorry it's late. It's been one of those weeks. Thanks for your patients.

Part Nine

He pushed through the crowd, inserting elbows into soft midsections where necessary, with three horses in tow. Occasionally he would pause and put one foot in the stirrup of his own horse’s saddle and he would pull himself up to look out over the crowd.
His master was well visible from this vantage point, standing heads above those gathered around him, his long, almost white, blonde hair catching the sunlight and throwing it back. The man stood straight and noble, his eyes fixed on the crude stage that had been erected for the sole use of the barbaric auction his master had gone ahead of him to reach. Perched upon his master’s nose was a strange contraption of brown glass cut into neat little ovals and held before his eyes with delicate silver straps and bands. Skin so white it could have been cut marble made him stand out even worse then his fine dress, odd eye pieces, his master called them ‘glasses’, and waist length, almost white hair, braided down his back.
Estin shook his head to himself, hopped down from this latest move to gain his bearings and elbowed a particularly heavy set man in worn farmers cloths in the ribs and tugged the three reluctant horses behind him as he continued to make his way to where his master stood.
“You just had to center yourself in the crowd, didn’t you?” Estin asked as he at last made it into the five foot space the crowd had left around his master’s tall, lean form. That beautiful, male face turned slowly toward him, though with those infernal - what were they?- glasses it was impossible for Estin to tell if he was actually looking at him.
His master grinned. “I like being the center of attention,” His master said with his usual humor before he turned to look back at the stage. “Did you bring my horse?” He asked though Estin was sure that he had looked.
Estin rolled his eyes. “No. I left the ornery creature about one hundred miles down the road and traded him for a mule. Of course I have him. Do I look stupid to you? No, wait, don’t answer that,” He said and looked away as his master’s shoulder’s shook with silent laughter.
“So…why did I need to lug, not only your horse, but an extra all this way to this boon dock town stuffed in the middle of the gods only know where? Don’t tell me that you actually plan to buy one of these poor unfortunate backward women,” Estin said and preformed the same trick he had used to spot his master through the crowd to get a look at the stage. Sometimes he hated being shorter than the average woman. Other times he didn’t care.
His master turned to look at him and one pail brow arched above the glasses. “You look ridiculous,” His master said in his usual way.
Estin snorted. “I’ll chop you off at the hips and we’ll see if you fair any better for seeing over a crowd of people this big,” He said.
Again his master’s shoulders shook in silent laughter. Estin just ignored him.
“So, are you going to buy one of these poor souls?” Estin asked again.
His master kicked two sets of saddle bags at his feet. “The money’s in here,” He said, “ Now hush. I need to listen for the right name.”
“So, we’re here for someone specific? Does she know we’re coming?” Estin asked.
“Shh!” His master shushed him, the sound somehow half growl.
Estin frowned but held the rest of his comments to himself as a small, angry looking man in purple robes wandered, almost as if half lost, out onto the stage, a gavel clutched in one hand as if he planned to fight the congregation with it. For a moment he faced the crowd and shifted his weight from foot to foot in a nervous, small kind of way, and hopped up and down a couple of times, the gavel lifting higher as if he were about to begin to preach, before, just as suddenly, he turned and shuffled, his shoulders hunched so far forward it looked as if he were trying to disappear, to the podium. Slowly he climbed up the small step stool placed behind it so that he was at least level with the old, wooden podium and faced the crowd again. The look on his face was almost furious now and when he pounded the gavel down in a call for silence Estin was sure that he was going to break it.
With a grumble and a sigh, sure that everyone on the planet was trying to get in his way, Estin pushed a strand of brown hair that had escaped his warrior’s tail out of his face and looked up at his ever patient horse who looked back at him with calm, brown eyes. With another sigh Estin clambered up the animal’s back to drape himself across the saddle. After all, he didn’t want to stand out too much, but he still wanted to see.
The old man behind the podium glared at him briefly, as if Estin cared what some old grump thought of him, before he banged the gavel one last time and began to drone on about something about witches and evil and young women tempted into the arms of the devil.
Estin wished he’d just get on with it and hoped that the girl his master wanted wouldn’t be too far back in the line. He didn’t know how long he could stay comfortable draped across the saddle like so much luggage before he began to loose circulation in necessary limbs.
At long last, after a long dissertation on who knew what - Estin tuned it out less then half way through- the old man banged the gavel one last time and called the name of the first girl.

Dragon's Apprentice (8)

Part Eight

Lynn stood slightly apart from the other girls who had clustered together behind the curtain of the stage that had been erected in the town square for the sole purpose of the bridal auction. With her hands clasped tight behind her back she leaned against one support beam and watched them as they milled about nervously like cattle ushered into too tight an enclosure. As of yet she hadn’t peeked beyond the curtain as each of the other girls seemed to do in shifts, but she didn’t really care to see all of the village boys, decked out in what amounted to their finest garb, milling about as their fathers glared. Even Lynn’s sisters didn’t seem immune to the nervous peeking of the others and normally Lynn would have made at least a token effort to cluster with them, but since none of them had said a word to her since she’d glided down off the stairs in the dress their mother had horded for her she didn’t want to push her luck by trying to hang on them like the an annoying kid sister.
Lynn rolled her eyes and dared to hope that all of her sisters were purchased that day or life at home would soon be a greater hell then it ever had been. If nothing else, Lynn thought, her mother knew how to insure that all of her daughters felt ostracized from one another. Oh, the glares Lynn had gotten from Gypsum as she’d left the house. If their father hadn’t been there Lynn was positive that her oldest sister would have beaten the crap out of her and ripped the dress from her body. As it was she might still loose the dress if she had to walk home if the looks she was receiving from the other girls, all of them older then her, none of them as well dressed.
She shook her head and looked away from the others at last since their nervous fidgeting was making her nervous. She just hoped that she was right to not worry.
She flexed her hand again and felt for her rings by touch, counting each one slowly. She hadn’t bothered to remove them after she’d gotten home the night before, but had simply cast a light don’t-notice-me spell across them to keep anyone from asking questions. She didn’t need anyone noticing anything else odd about her…like spontaneously appearing rings.
She clinched her hands into fists and looked longingly in the direction of the forest even though she couldn’t see anything other then tree tops over the buildings. She couldn’t help but long for Vaden’s singular company, for the peace of the forest. By contrast the voices around her sounded discordant and loud. It was disturbing to ears no longer accustomed to it.
At long last the town magistrate began to speak beyond the curtain and one of the older married women of the town, a matronly woman that Lynn didn’t know personally, bustled back and began to form all of the young women into some form of a line. Lynn somehow ended up fourth in line, crammed behind Milsy Longsdaughter who was a husky, tall girl who looked the part of the farmers daughter, and Jamsis Millsdaughter, a very slight, fragile girl who’s health had always kept her out of the fields.
Lynn hugged herself and wished desperately that she could get a deep breath around the girdle crushing her ribs. The people were suffocating enough without help.
Somewhere beyond the curtain a gavel banged and the world fell to silence before the name of the first girl in line was called and she disappeared through the curtain in a swirl of blue fabric.

Dragon's Apprentice (7)

Part Seven

The day of the bridal auction dawned hot and clear even though the past few mornings had been slightly foggy. It was a little unusual for that time of year, but those that saw it read little into it and Lynn wasn’t awake to take note of it or she might have thought better about participating in the day’s events.
“Get up!” Lynn’s mother shrilled up the stairs to the loft where, in a rare moment of bravery, Lynn had gone to her own bed in her sisters’ room the night before. It had been a brave move because her sisters were prone to loud arguments, which often degenerated into throwing things at one anothers heads with Lynn’s bed smack in the middle of the line of fire as hers was the center, and smallest, bed. It was why she so often slept in the coal cellar with the mice.
The night, however, had been remarkably uneventful. There had been one short squabble over who knew what, right after the lights had been doused, but one uncharacteristic shout from their father had squashed it in its tracks.
“I said up, all of you! Everyone up or there won’t be time to get ready before the auction starts and how would that look?! I’ll tell you how it would look! Like I can’t mind my own girls, that’s how it would look so UP!!” Their mother yelled again up the stairs and Lynn’s sister’s began to groan slowly into wakefulness. Lynn herself, who had been awake for the better part of an hour and just waiting for someone else in the household to stir that so that she wouldn’t get accused of sneaking off, sat up and swung from bed before any of them could start shouting at one another. She made a dash for the door, her bare feet as silent as cat’s paws across the hardwood.
With the ease of someone used to dashing through a wild forest she hitched her night gown up around her hips and slid, all dignity forgotten, down the stair railing and swung off before hitting the ornate ball at it’s end. Her feet firmly on the ground floor and away from her sisters, who were already starting to argue, she paused at last to stretch the kinks out of a back not used to sleeping on so soft or lumpy a surface as the mattress on her old bed. Of course the condition of the mattress probably had not been helped by the fact that it had first been the mattress of all of her sisters before her. Only her sister, Nan, had a new mattress, being the oldest and all. Her bed frame was also new and would be part of her dowry as a wedding bed assuming one of their other sisters didn’t do something spiteful to it beforehand.
Lynn cracked her neck first one way, then the other, then it cracked again as she returned it to her natural position and she put her hand on the back of her neck as a crick threatened to form, putting pressure on the knot before it could take shape. The cramped muscle released readily enough and, at last, she moved on through the sitting room to the kitchen where her mother was busy fixing a feast that would barely be large enough to feed the hoard that would descend upon it before long.
Lynn’s mother turned with a pan large enough to fry a baby in, which she’d been using to cook scrambled eggs, and jumped just enough to send a plate full’s worth of food into her hair when she spotted her youngest daughter who seemed to have just materialized at her back.
It was because she moved so blasted quietly, Molly decided to herself. Not like her sisters who all stomped and yelled about. She’d fetch a good price at auction, especially since she’d lost the ghastly tan which she’d developed who knew where. Molly also had it on good authority that this would be one of the biggest turn outs for an auction in Gold Spring’s modest history with men coming from as far away as the capital. She hoped that most of her daughters would go. Eight mouths were somehow a great deal easier to feed then eleven. A house with one daughter would also be a hell of a lot quieter, that was for sure and certain.
She smiled. “What were you doing up stairs, dear? I just sent your father down into the coal cellar to wake you.”
Molly didn’t think of herself as a neglectful mother where Lynn was concerned. After all, the girl had lived long enough to be old enough to participate in the auction. That was more then some families could say and if Lynn got less attention then her sisters it was because she demanded less, though perhaps she wouldn’t have if Molly hadn’t let the girl run wild. For just a moment Molly experienced a painful desire to have gotten to know her youngest child before it was too late, but then it was gone again, replaced by the pragmatism of a woman who had lived almost her entire life by the rules of a small town that didn’t encourage free thinking. She continued her trip to the kitchen table with the pan of eggs. Once she had placed them down she stepped outside the open kitchen door to shake the egg off of her hair and clothing before she returned to cooking.
“Any of your sister’s stirring yet?” She asked as Lynn slipped into her chair and began to heap food across her plate. Toast, eggs, bacon, ham, beef tips, fried red potatoes, hash browns, two hot cakes, fried green tomatoes, piping hot bread, cold apple pie and a carrot somehow found space on the plate before she smothered it all in butter, salt and pepper and began to shovel it down with a fork that seemed way too small for the job.
“ ’ibble,” Lynn managed around a mouthful so big that her cheeks bulged.
Molly watched in amazement as the girl somehow got it down and repeated the process with a second bite of what looked like butter, apple pie, hash browns and hot cake liberally sprinkled with pepper.
Out of all her children Lynn was definitely the most expensive to feed, especially in the morning. The girl was always the first to the table when she joined them at first meal at all and ate as if she hadn’t seen food for at least a year or more.
How could a girl so slight possibly eat so much?
Molly shook her head and patted her daughter’s unusual black hair, currently a tangled mass around her head, and added sausage to the girl’s plate. Out of all of her children Lynn was the only one that Molly didn’t have to nag into not dawdling through the morning even when she was eating for an army.
“Once you’ve finished eating, and after your sisters get up, I need you to come with me so that I can fit you to a dress,” Molly said just as Lynn’s father stomped into the house. With a smile at Lynn and a grunt to the world in general he threw himself down into the chair across from Lynn and began to shovel food onto his plate without a further sound.
Lynn grunted in response to her mother’s statement and went on eating. Her father watched her over his own food, wondering if she ever came up for air. Not for the first time he regretted that she hadn’t been one of his sons. Only people who worked hard ate like Lynn did and he had the feeling that she would have taken to the farm craft far better then any of his other children ever had.
He held his plate out for a few fresh strips of bacon as Molly walked by and they both stared in amazement as a whole hot cake disappeared into Lynn’s mouth with the accompaniment of three sausages and a slice of toast. In one gulp it was gone and she chased it with half a jug of orange juice.
“Leave some for the others, dear,” Molly said and eased the fresh bacon onto a plate in the center of the table with a fork.
“ ‘na ‘ooze ‘na wooze,” Lynn managed to say somehow around cheeks full of bacon, eggs and toast slathered in butter.
Her father grunted a laugh as Molly frowned at her.
“Now dear, please leave some for the others. I don’t want to have to cook twice,” Her mother said and Lynn shrugged, but didn’t add any more food to her plate even as her hand kept twitching toward the serving platters as if she wanted to.
“GET UP, YOU LAZY CRETENS, OR I’LL LET LYNN EAT YOUR SHARES, TOO!!!” Molly bellowed up the stairs one last time before she also took a seat at the table and began to fill her own plate with far less then either her daughter or husband.
Within moments there was a stampede of noise as not only her sisters but all five of her brothers came tripping over themselves down the stairs in a rush to reach the table. Lynn, her cheeks stuffed full of a little of this and a lot of that, stared as her siblings made a mad rush for the table faster then she’d ever seen any of them move in her life. She hadn’t realized that she was such a motivation to get her brothers and sisters moving.
With a growl she snatched her pitcher of orange juice away from her oldest brother, Jacky’s, reaching hand and took a huge gulp straight from the clay spout, insuring that no one else would try to take it. She plunked it down solidly in the place where everyone else kept their glasses and glared around at everyone before resuming her meal. Only her oldest sister, Gypsum, glared back, her eyes narrowed, but since this was normal Lynn ignored her completely.
Having inhaled her breakfast faster then anyone else, Lynn took herself outside the kitchen door and sat down on the low step just outside the door. With her chin in her hands she stared out at the forest. Ancient pines reached massive branches out past the boarder that her father so meticulously maintained to keep the forest from encroaching on the back door. The long needles spread upon the branches like fingers reaching desperately, it almost seemed, toward her as if calling her home. A high wind stirred the top most branches and a sound almost like a low, lonely moan passed through the boughs.
Lynn shivered and looked away even as she wished she could go comfort her forest, but that was silly. Why would anything in those old trees, besides Vaden, miss her?
“Ready, my dear?” Molly asked from her back and Lynn turned her head to look up at her mother.
Molly was not, by most standards, an attractive woman. Short and dumpy with limp, muddy brown hair that always seemed to escape from the bun at the nape of her neck she was the type of woman someone might look at and say “There goes a sturdy woman.” She wasn’t the kind of woman who would have ever fit in amongst nobility, but as a farmers wife she was the perfect choice. Once, before the boys had been old enough to work, she had held her own at her husbands side working in the fields. Now she was perfectly happy to be a house wife and do nothing but cook, clean, mend and accomplish other motherly tasks.
By contrast her youngest daughter looked more as if she belonged on the arm of a king then working in a field somewhere. With long, rich, thick black hair that seemed to shine almost purple, of all the colors, in the light and eyes the exact shade of amethyst crystals she was a sight to behold, even when her hair was a tangled mess. Tall and slender with a sinuous, quiet strength, the girl often seemed more predator then farmer’s daughter. She was beautiful and Molly knew that if any of her girls sold that day it would be Lynn, though she doubted that Lynn knew that. The girl had the oddest misconceptions about herself.
Molly shook her head to herself and motioned for her child to follow her back into the house. As the rest of the family continued their breakfast, Lynn stared longingly at the remaining food as they walked past, Molly lead her up stairs to the room she and her husband shared. Leaving Lynn standing in the center of the room, staring at a room that all of the children had always been forbidden access to, Molly went to the wardrobe and, from the dust on top, took a single, flattish box wrapped in a dusty brown paper.
She blew the dust off and carried it back to the bed.
“I bought this for you on your second birthday when it had become painfully obvious to us all that you would surpass all of your sisters in both height and beauty,” Molly said as Lynn stared. “We knew when the day came, since you weren’t the oldest, that we would be unable to send you off with anything except a dress so your father and I decided to have this made for you.”
With that she cut the paper away with one of her husbands knife. Carefully she pealed the paper away from the cloth within and, slowly, exposed a swath of what appeared to be white crushed velvet. With reverent hands Molly lifted the gown from its wrapping by the shoulders. It unfolded in a graceful line into the most beautiful dress Lynn had ever seen. It must have cost her parents a small fortune.
Molly shook it out and laid it carefully across the bed before she lifted the hem of the skirt for Lynn to see. There, and in a couple of other places Lynn could see, the heavy cloth had been folded over more times then was necessary to make a seam.
“There are gold, silver, and copper coins hidden about the dress. The copper coins are hidden here, in the hem of the skirt, the gold ones are hidden in the cuffs of the sleeves and the silver are in the seams along the back. There are four gold coins, six silver and twelve copper. Even if you’re bought by a slaver it’s illegal for them to take your bridal dress from you so it is the safest place to hide anything you may wish to keep,” Molly explained as Lynn stared. A small fortune had been squirreled away for her within the seams of that dress and they both knew it.
She looked back up at her mother in surprised puzzlement.
“But, why?” Lynn asked at last and Molly met her daughter’s gaze evenly.
“Because, my dear, you are both beautiful and smart. While smarts may serve you well in this world as a poor country girl, as a younger daughter beauty will not. If you don’t learn how to take care of yourself, protect yourself, no one is going to do it for you. This dress is the best your father and I can do for you to help you on your way to learning the skills you are going to need when you leave Gold Springs behind,” Molly explained and reached for her daughter to pull her night shirt off over her head where she dropped it on the floor for disposal later.
With her naked daughter standing in the middle of her room Molly began to scrub her down with cold water from the pitcher she’d brought into the room earlier. Lynn screamed as the cold water hit her, but Molly ignored her completely, scrubbing away like a mad woman unleashed.
Once the girl was scrubbed from head to foot and the knots had been yanked from her hair with a bone comb and that same hair had been braded behind her into a single thick band, Molly dried her gruffly with a rough towel and yanked a girdle down over her head. Positioning it just right she had Lynn grab hold of the bed post before she jerked the strings in as tight as they would go. Lynn gasped even as her lungs were constricted and clung for dear life as her mother continued to pull the strings tight.
“Mother,” Lynn gasped, “Mother, I can’t breath.”
Molly ignored her and, with one final tug, secured the garment tight around her. Lynn moaned as Molly pried her hands free and spun her to face her once more. Next she helped Lynn into the appropriate three petty coats before, at last, she pulled the dress down over the girl’s head. While Lynn was definitely thin enough that she didn’t need the girdle, and the dress would fit her just fine without it and she would, undoubtedly, leave both the girdle and petty coats far behind her the first chance she got, Molly wanted to insure that she was dressed in all propriety that day.
Last, but not least, Molly helped her daughter slip into soft slippers that matched the dress. They were completely impractical for walking or riding a horse, but for the occasion they were just right.
“Alright,” Molly said when she was at last satisfied with her daughter’s appearance. “Go pack. Just remember, if it’s not a part of the dress anyone who buys you can take it from you.”
With that she chased Lynn out the door and toward her own room. Still a little in shock, she went without question as Molly turned to the task of getting the rest of her daughters ready for the day.

Note

Part seven is turning out to be longer then expected and while I could break it into a couple of parts I won't for the sake of keeping "chapter" breaks smooth. Another words, for those of you that may read my posts, I will have the next part up next Friday and apologize to anyone out there who reads my humble posts.

Dragon's Apprentice (6)

Part Six
“Give up yet?” He asked as he returned. He was once again in dragon form, though no where near his true size, and at least ten fish strung on a peace of twined tree bark hung around his neck. They’d already been gutted and their scales were blackened char as if he’d breathed fire at them. Lynn knew from experience that this meant that, once the scales were pealed off, the flesh underneath would be perfectly cooked and tender. She’d watched him cook them only once before and still had to wonder how he had enough control not to turn her dinner into so much fine ash.
He dropped the fish beside her and continued on to the fireplace. It had burned down in his absents and, resuming his full size, he tossed several tree sized logs into the red embers before huffing a fire ball into them. They lit instantly and, with a sigh, he settled into the heat, the spines at the tip of his tail almost in the flames.
She removed one blackened fish- might have been perch or maybe bass?- she couldn’t tell, and fingered the line the fish had been strung on.
“I always wondered what form you took to fish in,” She wondered aloud as she scraped the scales off with her work knife.
He shrugged his scaly shoulders.
“A little of this, a little of that,” He said and put his head back on the back of his hands as he watched her pick the cooked fish from the bone with her fingers. Like a bird swallowing a fish whole she tilted her head back as she swallowed, her long, brown-gold hair flowing around her as she moved.
“Did you just lay in the water and let them flow into your mouth again?” She asked, remembering the one time she’d actually watched him fish.
He chuckled.
“No. I didn’t actually eat fish this time. I had a doe before I went to the river. Eating that many schools of fish too often really tends to deplete the resources of an area and I’d like to be able to remain here for at least a bit longer,” He said and closed his eyes.
“Only a bit longer?”
He chuckled without otherwise moving. “A bit, my dear, could be centuries for a dragon,” He rumbled. “Have you figured out those rings yet, my darling?”
Lynn heaved a sigh. “I’m afraid not. You win this one,” She said softly. He opened his eyes and stood as gracefully as any cat rising from a pool of sunlight.
“Oh? Let me see how far you got then,” He said and moved to join her, shrinking down to almost the height of a man as he approached. He sat down besides her like an oversized dog and looked over her shoulder.
There on the floor before her crossed legs remained only five rings. He stared. She had gotten closer then he had ever expected her to.
“You are so close. Why give up now?” He asked and looked over into her face. She was frowning down at the little bands where they formed and arch before her.
“Because I can’t figure out if you meant monetary value,” She said, pointing to one. “Emotional value,” She pointed to the next ring in line. “Spiritual value.” She pointed to the next. “Magical value or memory value,” She said, pointing to the last two.
He stared at her and blinked.
“And how did you make your choices? Most of these rings look as if they could be anyone’s rings,” He said and narrowed his eyes at her.
She sighed and picked up the fist one. Closing it in one fist she closed her eyes and her brow furrowed as if in great concentration.
“Forged within the deepest mines of the First Great dwarven empire, fallen so long ago that even the mountains that were their home don’t remember them, it is made from the rarest of metals. Impervious to tarnish or damage it will shine through time, long after the name it’s creators gave it have been forgotten and the mettle itself can no longer be found within the earth in its raw form. The jewels it’s delicate filigree is twined around are three of the purest blood red rubies ever found,” She intoned in a voice that was almost not her own. It sounded old and far away, a voice that knew centuries more then it should have. She held the ring up into the light so that it’s beautifully polished coils of wire so fine the ring looked as if it would crumble could be seen and the rubies set within it glinted like fire cast eyes.
She set it down carefully and, without opening her eyes, picked up the next one. Her brow furrowed further and her skin took on a decidedly white look. She took a deep breath that caught in her chest.
“SHE gave you this ring. It’s copper, though lovely, without a jewel, the copper molded to look like the leaves from her favorite tree. She wore it on a chain around her neck until the day she gave it to you as her last breath left her.” She sat that ring down faster then the first and picked up the next.
“Polished silver with emerald chips for eyes this ring was created to look like the first fox you ever spoke to. It‘s also dwarven made,” She said and put it back down.
She was defiantly turning white, he decided as he watched her pick up the next ring. Blue light began to glow from between her fingers as soon as the gold band was closed in her fist.
“Elf mage,” Was all she said before she put it back down. “Even you don’t know all that it can do,” She said without opening her eyes before she picked up the last ring.
“The first ring you ever put in your hoard.” She held it up so that the six sapphire chips set around it gleamed. “It’s also an enchanted ring with spells of protection so old and powerful placed upon it that it’ll make the barer impervious to anything harmful from spells to arrows.”
She placed it down carefully and, at last, she opened her eyes. They were practically glowing.
Vaden stared at her with wide, surprised eyes.
“Well, that’s a new talent, my dear. How long have you had it?” He asked.
Her color still wasn’t returning. She didn’t look ill exactly, but more as if something had eaten all of the coloration from her skin.
She shook her head and leaned forward until her head rested on her folded legs.
“I don’t know, Vaden. I didn’t know I could do that until…I don’t know. Today. When I started sorting through the rings I saw a little bit, but the longer I tried to figure it out the stronger it got.” She sounded breathless and exhausted.
There was still no color in her skin. Even her hands had become the same bone white as her face.
He turned her to face him and, sitting back on his tail, took her face between his hands and forced her to look at him. She met his gaze evenly and her eyes were still inhumanly bright, though he doubted that a human would really notice.
“Hmm,” Her rumbled. “Use it a little every day, but don’t push it so much again…Can you turn it on and off at will or do you get constant flashes of information?”
“It seems to be a little of both, though it feels that if I work with it the control will get better. Like working a muscle I didn’t know I had,.”
He nodded and let go of her. “Well, my Lynn, it seems as if you won our wager…By a land slide. Since I promised you the most valuable ring in my hoard, plus one of your choice, and you were able to locate all five you may have them all plus one so take your pick,” He said and wondered back to the fire, growing larger as he went. He eased back down before the flames and watched as she lifted a sixth ring he hadn’t spotted from the shadows of the trunk.
“Which one is it?” He asked and she held it up for him to see. It looked like a brightly polished silver band but nothing more remarkable. He squinted at it then his eyes widened as he recognized it.
“One of Merlin’s rings,” She supplied before he could say anything.
“Which one?” He asked.
“The one that opens all locked doors while, oddly enough, also keeping anything that the wearer has from being taken from them under any means…I suppose if you’re going to go burglarize someone you want to be able to hold on to what you take.” She slipped it onto the thumb of her right hand before she began to slip on the others. The ancient dwarven ring went on to her right index finger, the silver fox ring went on to her right middle finger, followed by the elfin magic ring, then the first ring he had ever acquired, and, lastly, the copper ring went on the littlest finger of her left hand.
She held her right hand up and wiggled her fingers in the light. “Not a bad start,” She said and grinned.
He turned his head to look at her fully with one bright eye. “Start to what?” He asked.
“My hoard,” She said.
He threw his head back and laughed.
“Your hoard? Your kind don’t hoard,” He said.
“Oh?” She arched one brow at him. “I beg to differ. I’ve seen more human houses then you have and they all have small hoards stacked somewhere in their homes collecting dust.”
He laughed again. “Alright. Fair enough. Where are you going?”
She stood and stretched her arms high over her head, yawning.
“It’s late. I need to get home. I’ll be back tomorrow after the bridal auction.” She cracked her knuckles and dropped her arms.
“Aren’t you in the least bit worried that someone might want you?”
She shook her head. “No. I’m too strange and, as I told you, strangers are rare in Gold Spring.”
“I hope you’re right,” He said and shook his head. “G-.”
“Don’t say it,” She cut him off. “Goodbyes are bad luck. See you tomorrow, Vaden.” And with that she was gone, slipping out the tunnel and then out of the cave before he could say another word.
He watched her go, a little worried by the fact that, while her cheeks had taken on a pinkish cast, none of the rest of her skin tone had returned.
After a moment he shrugged to himself and pulled out the book he’d been reading before his ring search had distracted him from it.

Dragon's Apprentice (5)

Part Five
It was hours later when the sound of her stomach rumbling loudly cut through the silence of the cave and the dragon, whom she had assumed to be asleep, his head on the backs of his hands, opened on bright eye to look at her. He smiled at her and rolled sleepily onto his back like an overgrown cat, stretching muscled legs up into the air as he moved.
“Hungry?” He asked and arched one expressive brow.
Lynn laughed. “Obviously.” She added yet another ring to the growing pile back in the trunk. “It’s your turn to hunt.”
He yawned. “Is it now?”
“You know it is, you great lazy lizard.” She held one ring up to the light and turned it so that it shone.
He jumped to his feet and glared down at her. “Lizard am I? Lizard!? I’ll show you lizard!” He bellowed and, to her great astonishment, vanished in a cloud of bright pink smoke. She blinked and waved the smoke away from her face. It was tasteless and odorless, but still stung her eyes.
Once it cleared she saw that the dragon was gone and in his place seemed to be an arm length, pink lizard attached half way up the cave wall by small, suckered feet.
It was the first time she’d ever seen him shape change to such and extravagant extent.
Lynn laughed. “I didn’t know you could change your color,” She said and stood to approach him. He grinned, exposing teeth that were far too draconic for a true lizard. Long and sharp they looked exactly like the teeth that always filled his mouth only now small enough to fit into the head of a lizard. Somehow the little needle like teeth were still slightly out of proportion.
“Only to some degree,” He said and turned on the wall to look down at her. “Impressed?”
As she drew closer she could see that the pink was splotchy in places and the entire tips of his toes were white with tiny, white talons on the end of each suckered pad. Little flecks of gold shone in his skin as if he’d been powdered with flakes cleaned from a jewelers file.
Since he was a primarily white dragon with gold tips on his scales neither the white nor gold surprised her. The hot pink did.
“Yeah, I’m impressed. Now how about some food?” She asked, smiling, and put her hands on her hips as she looked up at him with amazing amethyst eyes.
He threw his head back in a very unlizard like manner and laughed a laugh much too loud and powerful to ever come from such a small reptile. Even if she hadn’t recognized him already that laugh would have given him away. She’d have known that laugh anywhere.
“Alright, witch, I’m going. If you got it in your head to do so you could take over a kingdom with those eyes, I hope you know,” He said and scuttled up and around the ring of light that filled the cave before he disappeared along the ceiling of the passage that she had come in through. She watched him go before returning to her ring sorting.

The Dragon's Apprentice (4)

“When is the bridal auction?” The dragon asked several hours later. Lynn didn’t even look up from the rings she was carefully sorting into several piles even though he knew how sensitive a subject it was for her.
Every five years in Lynn’s village every unmarried woman of marriageable age was collected and, for one day, offered up to the highest bidder be they slaver or single male looking for a wife as long as they could pay the asking price. Usually it was uneventful enough with only the single males from the town and maybe a few from the next town over making any kind of appearance, though Lynn knew from the older women that that wasn’t always the case. The year that Lynn’s own mother had been purchased by Lynn’s father a slaver from the capital had attended the auction and outbid everyone for her mother’s best childhood friend who had been taken away and never heard from again.
Only the oldest daughters were exempt from the auction as they were seen as the symbol of a family‘s wealth. The greater the dowry behind the eldest female child the higher the social standing of the family left behind after her marriage. In most cases the money gained by selling off any other daughters was added to the dowry of the eldest.
Lynn herself wouldn’t technically be old enough for the auction this year until five days past the auction’s date, but it had been decided for her that she would attend the auction anyway since she was so close to the correct age and the next auction wouldn’t be for five more years. By then the money raised by auctioning her off wouldn’t help her sister’s dowry as it would only be another year before her sister would be considered “past her prime” at the ripe old age of nine-teen. She therefore had to be married before that dreaded date.
Lynn sighed loudly and flicked another ring into a pile.
“The auction’s tomorrow,” She said and shook her head, “Though I don’t think it matters.”
“Oh? And why not?” He asked as he doodled absently in the ashes of the fire with one long, white claw.
She laughed almost bitterly. “Because no one who knows me is going to want me. I’m the ugly duckling, Vaden. Everyone knows that I’m eccentric. Odd. The best I’m ever going to be able to hope for is that eventually everyone will leave me alone or that I’ll somehow find the means to leave. Marriage is never going to be an option for me.”
He looked up at her with keen interest. “Do you actually want to get married?” He asked, scaly eyebrows raised.
Lynn shrugged. “Eventually. I’d like it to not be to a perfect stranger, but I have the feeling that the only way anyone is ever going to want me is if they don’t know me first.”
“Oh, come now, that’s not fair. You’re a very lovely, bright young woman with many valuable attributes. To add to that you’re a very bright young woman who has been taught magic by a dragon. That looks very good on a resume.”
Lynn laughed. “Maybe in the rest of the world, but not in Gold Spring nor in any of the towns surrounding it.” She tossed another ring into a pile.
Vaden snorted and a smoke ring traveled up to the ceiling where it disappeared into the dark. “My dear, it should not be you worrying about them liking you, but them worrying about you liking them. Don’t you want to say who you mate instead of having it chosen for you?” He asked.
“Of course, but such freedom to choose is a luxury for the eldest daughters,” She said as she tried one ring on, holding it up in the light as it sat on her finger to see how it shone. He watched it intently until she took it off and tossed it, too, aside. “Besides,” She added, “There is only one male I can think of wanting and I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to have him.”
“Oh? And why not?” The dragon asked again. His hands stilled in front of him.
The silence lengthened until all that could be heard was the crackling of the torches. "Lynn?" His tone was commanding and brooked no argument.
“Because he’s scaly and bad tempered,” She said to her lap and stood abruptly, scattering a handful of rings. “I need air. I’ll be back to finish this.”
With that she headed for the exit, but he beat her to it. Moving with inhuman speed he slapped his tail across the only easy way out and lowered his head to stare directly into her face when she pulled up short.
“Did you mean that?” He asked and tilted his head until one of his large eyes took up her entire field of vision.
She shrugged.
“Answer the question, Lynn. Did you mean that?” He asked again. She met her own eyes reflected back at her from the depth of his gaze.
“Yeah, not that anything can come of it, right?” He didn’t answer and stared at her so long that she fidgeted. “Right, Vaden?”
At last he just nodded slowly, sat up, and looked deliberately away from her. She sighed and looked away, too.
“Crushing on the teacher. Pretty pathetic, huh?” She said at last.
“No, Lynn,” He said and slithered back to the fireside where he curled up like a very large, scaly cat.
She sighed, looked from the exit then back to the dragon, then finally settled again to her seat amongst the rings where she resumed her careful sorting.

The Dragon's Apprentice (3)

He grumbled something unintelligible as she disappeared into the shadows cast by the mound. A moment later his head reared back and he snorted loudly. Snot covered coins stuck to the side of the gleaming piles as they flew from his nose and he quickly kicked more coins over them least Lynn spot them. She was terrible when she was right.
“What are you doing?” He asked as her disappearance lengthened with the only sign of her the odd scraping and thump from the dark. “How can you possibly find anything in the dark?”
“It’s not that dark,” She called back and her voice echoed as if she were some distance away.
He frowned and craned his head around the side of his hoard. Over the years the mound of treasure had taken on a life of its own until it completely blocked his large bulk from the back of the cave. Usually, when he needed to get back there, he either shape shifted or just shoved hunks of the mountain aside to get where he desired. He’d gotten lazy about both since Lynn had gotten old enough to be sent in after the odd bit or piece. She had become much better at finding what went missing then he was anyway.
“What are you doing?” He asked again as her absence continued and lifted himself up onto his hind legs until he could look over the top of the gleaming pile. He rested his chin on the coins and tried to see her through the gloom. As a dragon he had amazing sight, even in the dark. Even so he could just see her shadow moving about in the recesses of the cave as she fought and argued with what appeared to be a small trunk.
“Hunting for your ring. What does it look like I’m doing?” She asked and finally managed to heave the small trunk onto her shoulder before she began to pick her way back around the mountain toward him, ungainly with the extra weight she now carried.
He lowered himself back down to the cave floor and went to look at her again around the side of his gold to watch her progress. After several slips that looked vaguely painful she finally dropped the trunk and simply began to pull it after her across the coins. He stepped back as she finally emerged, butt first, from the dark with the small trunk in tow.
The trunk itself was rather unremarkable. It was unvarnished and bound, not in gold or silver or even well polished brass, as most of his trunks were, but in roughly pounded, thick copper that had been applied to the wood when it was so hot that there were char marks around the bands. While small, the dark, roughly finished oak from which it had been constructed made it heavy even empty which meant that, while full, it had to be a nightmare for someone as slight as Lynn to carry.
“You should have told me you were after that trunk, Lynn, and I would have gotten it myself,” He said as she dropped it with a solid thud at his feet.
Lynn straightened, breathing hard, and shook her head.
“Wouldn’t have done any good. It had somehow gotten shoved into the way back in that little crack you never bothered to fill in,” She said breathlessly and wiped gleaming sweat from her brow. “Packrat.”
He puffed a smoke ring at her face. “I am in no way, nor have I ever been, in any way, shape and or form, rat like,” He said with dignity.
She grinned at him and crouched to undo the latches of the trunk that were constructed for human hands to operate and, therefore, way too delicate for draconic hands to master. He could have, again, shape shifted to get into it, but with Lynn there he saw no point in doing so. Of course, if he had had to retrieve it himself he would have already been in an appropriate form for getting into it. Hands were useful that way.
She threw back the lid to expose the trunk’s contents. Inside gleamed mounds of assorted rings. Small, large, jeweled, simple silver or gold bands, delicate things that looked as if they were so fragile that they would crumble to the touch. Some bore tarnish while still others looked freshly polished. A few others looked as if they were still hot from the forge that had created them.
“Ah,” He sighed and scooped out a small claw full to allow them to fall back into the pile. “Now I remember the day we did this. There should be one in here that looks as if it’s worth more then the others, though it’s not. It’s gaudy with a large green jewel surrounded by what could be diamonds.”
“And that’s the one that turns thieves into pigs?” She asked as she crouched to paw through the trunk.
He nodded his massive head, sending light playing across the sides of the cave as it caught off his scales. “I wanted something that would be sure to be stolen. It isn’t my most valuable ring by any means. Oh, don’t get me wrong. The stones are real and the gold it’s made from is as pure as it comes, but there’s more to value then gold and jewels.” He chuckled. “I guess that’s you’re lesson for today.” He paused. “Tell you what, Lynn, if you can pick out the ring that is indeed the most valuable from this trunk then you may have it. I’ll even give you a clue to make it more interesting if you like.”
Lynn frowned down at the trunk’s contents as she thought, one finger on her chin. At last she shook her head. “I shouldn’t need the clue.”
The dragon threw his head back and roared with laughter.
“Of all the apprentices I’ve had over the centuries you are certainly the most arrogant, my dear. Alright then. If you can correctly choose the most valuable ring from that trunk I’ll not only let you have it but any other ring you wish as well.”
She looked up at him from beneath black eyebrows with a speculative look. “Are you sure about that?” She asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Alright,” She grinned and sat, cross legged, before the open trunk.
“Oh, don’t forget that you wanted this,” She said and handed him the ring they‘d originally been searching for.
He grinned as he took it and carried it with him back to his place by the fire. There he placed it upon one of many little shelves carved into the stone, this one at about the eye level of a human. The ring glinted in the torchlight.
Lynn pulled the trunk closer and dumped the rings across the floor.

The Dragon's Apprentice (2)

She lifted one eyebrow and leaned around into the caves mouth to squint into the darkness, unafraid, though the sound was most definitely out of the ordinary. After a moment it was followed by another deep, echoing growl that managed to sound at once frightening and frustrated.
She shrugged and stepped into the dark, not in the least intimidated by the growling, as out of the ordinary as it was.
“What’s the matter? Step on your own tail again?” She asked into the darkness, following the cool cave wall with her hand as she walked. There was a sense of dampness to the cave though the stone itself was completely dry to her touch.
“No,” A sullen rumble answered her from some distance up ahead and the sound of small pieces of metal falling against other pieces of metal, like coins being dropped, echoed toward her. Just ahead she could make out the soft glow of firelight.
“Then what’s the matter?” She asked and blinked as she emerged into the light at the end of the tunnel.
The cave into which she had walked was immense. Even though torches lined the walls high above her head and a fire burned in a rough fireplace large enough to roast a house in she couldn’t see the ceiling. More light glinted from the many surfaces of gem stones, coins and who knew what else that formed a small mountain at the back of the cave. It was next to this mountain of gleaming metal that the dragon sat, the light catching off of his white and gold scales as if he too were a precious gem as he pawed through his hoard with enormous, clawed hands. He was growling and muttering to himself as he shoved aside mounds of gold coins, the odd gem incrusted crown and, on occasion, pieces of armor.
“I lost it,” He snarled and lifted a particularly gaudy crown into the light to examine it before he tossed it to the back of the mound where it rolled into the dark. Lynn heard it clatter to a stop long after it had vanished into the unlit back of the cave.
“What’s an it?” Lynn asked and continued her way to the fireplace.
His tail thrashed in agitation and he threw a handful of bits and pieces into the dark after the crown.
“One of my enchanted rings. The one that turns anyone that steals it into a pig. You haven’t seen it by any chance, have you?” He asked and at last turned his head to look at her through one gold-green eye.
Lynn shook her head. “I can’t say that I have. Are you sure you didn’t put it in that small trunk where you shoved the rest of your rings the last time you got into a cleaning fit?” She asked and retrieved a silver vase from a nook hidden to the right of the fireplace. From it she dumped two dried, petal-less flowers into the hungry flames of the fire and replaced them with the two she had picked on her walk.
“I don’t have…fits,” He huffed and turned completely to face her. A wide, almost boyish grin, if a boy had ever had teeth enough to eat a cow whole, took over his face when he saw the flowers. “Ah. You remembered.”
“What else does that ring do?” She asked.
He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I don’t think it does do anything else. Why?”
She shook her head. “I just can’t understand how someone could want a magic ring that does nothing but turn someone else into a pig.”
“All dragons have something of it’s like in their hoard, my dear, and when I had it made I wanted something no one else had thought of before.”
Lynn laughed. “If you had it made then how can you not know if it does anything else?” She asked and threw herself down into a battered, well loved, wing backed chair placed to one side of the fire place. He moved to the other side of the fireplace and coiled himself comfortably there. He then turned his head to observe her through one unblinking, cat like eye, his search obviously forgotten.
“Sometimes, as enchanted objects age, they decide that they’re going to do something completely different from their original programming. I once saw a ring that was meant to turn princes into frogs cause an errant prince's arrogant head to keep swelling until it exploded.”
“Eww.” Lynn wrinkled her nose and the dragon laughed. If she hadn’t known him and what the sound was it would have been a frightening experience. His laugh was deep and throaty and made the entire cave rattle while exposing way too many sharp teeth.
“That random spell change…Is that anything like the time you sneezed and turned yourself into a cow with a devil’s tail?” Lynn asked and he looked thoughtful for a moment.
“In a way I suppose. If I hadn’t been in the middle of trying to cast a spell it probably wouldn’t have happened.” He paused to think about it. “When magic is left to its own devises it often does things that are completely useless.”
“You’d probably still be stuck that way if dragons weren’t natural shape shifters,” She observed.
He nodded. “Probably.”
As the silence between them settled into the silence of two beings that had known each other for far too long Lynn sighed.
“So, what’s my lesson for today, Master?” She asked at length and the dragon uncoiled himself to return to his hoard.
“Help me find that blasted ring and we’ll call it good,” He muttered and shoved his nose into the gleaming pile where he snuffed huge, noisy lung fulls of air.
“Careful or you’ll get coins stuck up your nose again,” Lynn said as she stood and moved to join him. Slipping and sliding on the mound she scrambled up one side and disappeared around one edge.

The Dragon's Apprentice

The sun was just rising above the horizon as she slipped as silently as she could from the shadows of the barn toward the massive trees of the ancient forest. If anyone in their family spotted her they would surely try to stop her, but they would only just be stirring and she had been awake for hours.
Lynn, for reasons unknown to her, had always seemed to need less sleep, and somehow more food, then any of the rest of her family. Those were, of course, not the only differences between herself and her kin, but they were, in many ways, the most noticeable.
Pausing at the edge of the old barn, one slender, long hand braced against the wood, she glanced back at the little house slowly being devoured by climbing plants. Within its walls she supposedly shared one small room with her three sisters, though, in truth, she more often then not slept atop the coal in the cellar with only the mice as her room mates.
The mice were certainly quieter.
As the youngest child out of nine her eccentricities were often overlooked and those that weren't weren't worth arguing with her over. According to her mother, at any rate.
Lynne shrugged to herself and turned back to face the trees. If she didn't hurry she'd either be late or caught. Either way both were just as bad... Well, maybe not. Her parents weren't inclined to bite off body parts, after all.
Ducking low she made the hundred yard dash from the shadows of the barn to the even deeper shadows of the trees. She just made it to the more secure cover when she had to freeze with all the skill of the rabbit that fears the hunter as the front door of the house opened.
The oldest of her brothers stepped into the new day's light, stretching and yawning. Oblivious to the extra shadow in the trees that was his little sister, he rubbed his eyes and wondered on into the barn.
Lynn watched him round the corner before she slipped into the next shadow, then the next, as silent and smooth in her movements as a passing breeze. She moved closer and closer to the trees, calm and patient in her progress, only to have to freeze again as the house door opened a second time and, this time, her oldest sister stepped into the dawn.
The older girl squinted and blinked like a night creature brought suddenly to light. She mumbled and growled to herself and swiveled her head back and forth like a snake trying to get a fix on a mouse it had lost before she finally followed Jacky into the barn.
Lynn sneered after the other girl and bared her teeth in a silent, unseen threat, before she turned and made the last dash into the trees.
Safe within their green depths she at last took a deep breath of the loamy air and allowed herself to relax.
If her family ever found out where she was going they would have, at the best, had her sent away. At the worst they would have had her burned as a witch. Hell, going into the trees was apparently enough evidence to convict her of witchcraft if previous, recent incidences were anything to go by.
Lynn shuddered as she picked her way toward the familiar forest path.
Fortunately all of the girls that had been recently targeted had been no one she knew or she may have been tempted beyond all good judgment to do something stupid to help them.
The new magistrate had changed everything. Before he had arrived what few witch trials there had been had been fairly and impartially administered by Father Jonas. Now it was all different. Not long after the trials had begun those girls that had not been accused of practicing the craft had begun to change. They had become mean, cold, calculating, watchful. Like Lynn's best friend. Like two of her sisters.
Lynn knew that it was only a matter of time before they came after her, too.
She jumped lightly over an old, dry creek bed that was deeper then the little bit of water it saw each year should call for and landed, as light as a cat, on the hard packed dirt path on the other side.
She paused here again and looked back just once more. She lifted her face into the still air and sucked an open mouthful across her soft pallet. She tasted rabbit, at least a day old, a deer, it's fragrant taste just a little fresher, and her own scent, new over old over older still. Other then that nothing presented itself and, at last, she turned onto the narrow path that wound it's way into the deep, deep wood.
The path began as little more then a well worn deer track, but quickly divided. One fork, she knew from experience, twisted back toward the dry creek bed and stayed an innocent, well used deer trail. The other, wider and lined with white gravel, continued its way into the woods. It was less traveled and patches of grass grew up from between the stones.
It was this path that she took. The gravel crunched softly beneath her feet, but not so much that the birds who were pecking and scratching out their breakfast beside the path even took notice of her. Just as her family had become accustomed to her long disappearances, especially as she drew closer to marriageable age, so had the birds learned to ignore her comings and goings from their world.
She walked further this time before the path began to change once again. At first it only widened slowly then it changed quickly from one length to the next the deeper she followed it into the trees. Before long, the gravel was replaced by yellow, sand strewn cobbles so smoothly laid that they would have cost even the capital city of the kingdom a year's revenue to have them duplicated.
By this point the path had become something wide enough to support at least one lane of carriage traffic, she paused and walked to the edge of the path just long enough to pluck three deep red blooms from where they grew, in all the glory typical to wildflowers, in a bright shaft of sun that cut through the interlaced tree branches.
One of these four petaled, blood red flowers she tucked behind one ear. The remaining two she simply carried with her as she continued on her way.
Once more the path turned road changed again, slowly widening until it became something wide enough for four lanes of traffic, then six, then it's edges became lost amongst the shadows of the ancient forest. Still she walked, unbothered by the changes to the once humble forest path until, at last, just as suddenly as the smooth cobbles had begun, they vanished completely into a thick, green moss that seemed as flat and planned as the road itself.
Without so much as brushing that impossibly green moss with her toes, Lynn veered sharply to her right and began to follow the straight edge that marked where the road ended. At the side of the road, where a low wall met with the ancient trees and its humble height seemed to hold them at bay, she turned left onto yet another path. This one matched the first path she had begun to walk in all but location. Its barren dirt looked like a jagged scar through the painfully green moss, moss she was incredibly careful no to so much as brush with even the smallest part of her foot as she continued on.
Lynn began to hum softly to herself as she walked, twirling one of the flower's delicate stems between thumb and forefinger. Around her patches of the moss surged toward her as if something were pushing its way beneath the lake of green. She ignored it and continued to hum to herself, unconcerned, for while man eating moss was the bane of the king's Landmen’s existence, it posed little threat to her. This particular patch had learned to fear her long ago and while it would threaten and roil it wouldn't go but so close to the path. That was not to say that it wouldn't snatch her up given even the slightest chance, but as long as she wasn't stupid she'd be fine.
The path ended abruptly at a set of narrow, stone steps that seemed to lead to the lowest branch of the nearest tree that, in its age, had begun to grow over the top most step. Still twirling the flower absently she took the steps two at a time. The steps led exactly where they seemed to lead, to the lowest branch of an ancient tree where it had come to rest, and grow, over what had once been a stone platform. It may or may not have ever been a part of something larger. Lynn didn't know.
At what had once been the platform's center was a perfectly round, clear, calm pool. Opposite the branch upon which she now stood was yet another ancient branch that belonged to yet another ancient tree. With exceptional grace, Lynn leaped the distance between branches and looked down upon the steps that led from her new perch. Aside from the difference in location the steps could have been the same ones she had just climbed. At their base, half hidden by fallen leaves, were three gray stepping stones that led to the mouth of a small cave. Statues or, more accurately, the peaces of statues and other assorted forms of stone work in varying states of decay littered the leaf strewn ground around the dark opening.
Lynn hopped the remaining distance from the bottom step to the last stepping stone and froze as a low growl issued from the mouth of the cave, echoing strangely through the dark.