Iduna (14 page)

Iduna halted her descent when she thought she was far enough away that the dragons would not detect her. She crawled into a nook in the mountain and waited. She had to learn more. She felt the years spent sneaking and acquiring things for the Institute’s cook coming back to her. She would follow the dragons until she learned what she needed.

She climbed to a part of the mountain upwind of where she'd left the dragons. Esten’s injuries should slow their pace, making them easier to keep up with. She followed the dragons to their nest and tried to get a sense of their patterns.

Rubino took his charge slowly up the mountain to their home, moving awkwardly on land. They had a cave large enough for both of them, though it wasn't spacious. They spent most of their day laying on the ledge outside, sunning themselves. Rubino left occasionally to fetch dinner for the two of them. The mists of the mountain made small waterfalls and pools. Sometimes they both went down to one to bathe and drink. Both of them climbed instead of flying when together. Rubino was staying close.

She began waiting at the pool they frequented, hoping to learn anything useful. She got to see a dragon's version of water play—Rubino's fiery breath creating a steam bath. They splashed in the eddies and made swirls with their tails. These scenes charmed her. Of course watching them eat whatever animal Rubino brought back was never charming.

In some of the play she could sometimes pick out lessons that Rubino was teaching his child, though any flight-related lessons were clearly out of the question as Esten's wing healed.

One afternoon Rubino left Esten at the pool and quickly returned with two claws full of coconuts. He dropped them to the ground in a tumble. He took a few and lined them up, each one farther away than the last. He had Esten’s attention, and Iduna's, as she hung in a tree upwind. It had been a challenge staying upwind since the wind direction changed morning, noon, and night on this part of the island. She had accumulated a variety of perches at this point.

Rubino looked to his son, then took a shallow breath. Iduna could see his rib cage lift ever-so-slightly with his small inhale. He exhaled with nothing but air coming from his mouth and nostrils. Esten looked disappointed. He tried to show up his father and took a swift inhale and then exhaled with all the force in his body. Only tendrils of smoke escaped. Rubino decided to take the interest as a win, and he beckoned Esten over to him as if to let him in on a secret.

Rubino stared at Esten with a gaze that seemed to hypnotize. Esten’s jaw hung open as he was completely enthralled. Rubino closed his eyes and drew in a long, slow, seething breath, his expression expansive with his nostrils flaring to take in more air. His scales burned a hot glowing red. His eyes flashed open, focusing on the coconuts as if they were his greatest enemy, and he exhaled a giant whoosh of flame that turned the coconuts into piles of smoldering ash.

Esten loved the fire and trod over to the burned area in playful glee. He blew small puffs of smoke at the expired coconuts as if celebrating his father’s victory over a great enemy. He looked up at Rubino while standing with wings spread in a posture emulating his father's threat.

Rubino strode over to his son, his face right in front of Esten’s. Esten quieted.

“Close your eyes,” Rubino said.

Esten did as his father asked. His excitement faded to ripples of disquiet in his eyelids.

“Take the spot behind the top of your nose and imagine a heavy weight there, drawing your eyes further closed and quiet.” Rubino watch his son follow his directions. “Good, good. In your next quiet inhale, follow the air through your body with your mind's eye. With each inhale, try to locate its deepest point.”

Rubino waited. “Keep trying. You will find it.”

“When you have found a deep point, inhale just a little more, not too deeply, and imagine the air going in further than it's ever gone before.”

The air around Esten was starting to tremor ever-so-slightly in waves of oscillating color.

“Think about what you feel. Focus on the same feeling, like we do when the island's music starts.” The emanating heat around Esten changed to a steady golden radiance.

“After a few more breaths, pull in a little stronger and then exhale all the air from inside you in a smooth wave.”

As Rubino finished his last word, Esten again exhaled with all his might and a small puff of smoke came from his wide-open, expectant jaws. Esten collapsed to the ground in disappointment — his face a portrait of abject despair.

A coconut rolled up and thunked the child dragon in the face. His eyes flew open right before his father then rolled him into the large pool of water.

…

Iduna stayed at the pool after the pair had trekked back to their cave. She walked over to the water and kneeled. She tried to look below the surface, part of her wondering if she'd have fish for dinner. Catching her reflection, she saw how roughed up she looked. The days had taken their toll.

Thinking back to Akio's words, she wondered again what she needed to learn from her foe. What was she supposed to learn from the dragon? Well, she'd seen a lesson today, and she might as well try. The idea of her breathing fire made her laugh. Sure, she'd be the amazing fire-breathing woman. She could tour with the circus. Her laughter faded. The idea of burning Vilir to ashes and freeing her friends made any foolish attempts worthwhile.

She stayed kneeling and closed her eyes. She was used to meditating and this sounded similar. She looked for the deepest spot within her where the inhaled air touched. She felt the hollow of sorrow that Vilir had awakened within her.

She breathed air into the space.

A spark ignited.

The sorrow flared through her as it followed her exhale. She was overwhelmed with emotion. It started as sorrow, then began to grow to an unencumbered rage.

Music swelled around her in chaotic waves. The sounds were syncopated and deeply disturbing, like fingernails plucking the strings of her raw nerves.

It wouldn't stop.

Her heart rate escalated, and her skin flushed with annoyance. The feelings intensified. She collapsed to her hands and knees, panting as she fought this onslaught of annoyance that came from everywhere to pinch, poke, and scrape her.

She scanned her skin, and nothing was happening, but in her mind it felt like fire ants biting. She jumped into the pool, and it turned the little fiery bites into licking flames. She scrambled out of the pool and stood, looking around her for some solution.

The music whirled around her and struck.

She started running to escape the sounds and considered how they seemed to drive the biting and nipping on her skin.

She ran for hours, fast at first, hurdling tree stumps and brushing with other creatures that were also fleeing the music. They all seemed propelled along a similar frenzied path.

Her running eventually became walking, shuffling, and finally crawling. She didn't dare stop moving. The other creatures that were driven like she was all slowed as their strength waned. The weakest were stumbled over by the strongest.

All eventually tired and dragged themselves forward until they passed out, twitching while they slumbered.

Iduna woke up to a silent darkness. Completely disoriented but too exhausted to react, she lay still in a semiconscious state. It started to drizzle. The air was still.

She knew if she could roll over onto her back, then the rain might have a chance to soothe her parched throat and give her some energy. She flopped over in one massive effort.

Looking up at the night, the clouds hung low as they dropped rain on her spent body. She opened her mouth wide to take in more of the precious pearls of water.

The torment had passed, and she didn't think anything had been broken in her frenzy. She fell back asleep with small relief.

…

Morning dawned bright and clear. Water dripped from trees, and everything was dewy wet. She woke to a sharp pinch on her cheek. A mosquito. She swung her arm to slap it and slapped herself hard on the face.

“Of course,” she said.

She pushed herself up to a sitting position. It was too beautiful a morning for how she felt. She was still thirsty and, as her stomach announced with a loud rumble, hungry as well. She didn't know where she was, but she'd better get moving to scrounge up some food. In a lush landscape like this she should have no trouble. She remembered the papaya tree by the dragons' cave. She could not even guess how far away that was.

She stood and brushed sticks, leaves, and odd clots of dirt from her clothes. She still felt unsteady on her feet.

The world shook, and she braced herself, fearing a return of those horrible sounds.

The ground underneath her seemed to turn over, and she fell, sliding down a small hill. She tumbled and sprawled into the overgrowth.

“You would make a good snack.”

Iduna’s insides jumped at the sound of the deep, gravelly voice and felt the gust of warm air. Her focus rose to meet the blue-topaz gaze of the dragon that had thrown fire at her the first day on the island. Its enormous bulk was like a hollow shell with scales the color of gray stone, weathered and sharp, almost brittle looking.

She pushed to the back of her mind the fact that she’d been sleeping on top of a dragon.

“Not really,” she observed. “I haven't eaten much lately, and I'm very dirty.”

“I didn't say you would make a meal. Come here.”

“No. I'm going to get some food. If you want, I will bring some back to you.”

“Suit yourself.” The dragon gave up on the idea of an easy snack and sank into despondence.

She set off for the trees and hoped to find something edible fast. The pickings were easy. There were animals splayed out everywhere. There were a number of dead rabbits, but Iduna couldn't bring herself to eat animals that had died from the experience she'd just endured. Instead, she found a patch of peanuts and a thistled bunch of pineapples, smelling sweet and juicy. She jostled the peanuts and pineapples, and wondered at her prickly choice as she headed back to where the gray dragon lay.

One steel grey eye opened as she neared it.

She pulled out her machete from her gear, and carved off the top and sides of the pineapples, ending with five yellow cubes of juiciness. As she carved one into smaller pieces, she addressed the dragon.

“I'm Iduna.”

She put four pineapples on a rock and quickly hopped away to where she thought was out of reach of the listless dragon. She crawled over to her own jagged black rock and tried to find a comfortable position to eat. Devouring the golden sweetness, she began to feel better immediately.

The dragon’s single open eye watched her subtle change in energy and turned to the yellow squares. A long reptilian tongue reached out toward the pineapples.

It couldn't reach.

Giving in to the situation, she moved forward. The tongue remained outstretched.

She put one of the pineapples on the dry tongue. It curved around the pineapple like a child hugging a teddy bear and rolled the treat into the dragon's mouth. Both eyes closed in an expression of relieved bliss.

“More.” The tongue rolled back out for another.

She harrumphed, took another bite of her own spears of the sweet stuff, then tossed one of the pineapples in its direction. The nimble tongue caught the pineapple in midair and swept it into its jaws.

This routine was repeated for the rest of the pineapples.

“There's no more.”

The dragon sighed. Both of their stomachs rumbled and gurgled with hunger. At least they were alive.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I am nothing.” If a dragon could wallow, this one was definitely wallowing.

“What is your name?”

“I was called Lexonia. I am her no more.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes. I have lost my family. I don't deserve them.”

“What was that horrible sound that did this to us?”

The dragon lolled onto its side, still considering eating Iduna. She could tell. A quick puff of frustration came. “I don't know.”

Iduna shelled some of the peanuts she'd dug up. Not large enough to interest a dragon beyond curiosity, its ears swiveled to listen to what she was doing. Neither moved. They sat in silence, each in their own thoughts, resting and recovering from the night.

…

“You know, I just started hearing the sound,” Iduna said. In the dim light of early evening, she couldn’t see Lexonia clearly. The dragon made a low rumbling sound in response. “How long have you heard it?”

In a low raspy voice, the dragon finally answered, “I don't know. A long time.”

Iduna turned to look at the sprawled dragon. Suddenly its ears perked, and scales around its mouth flared.

She felt it too. The sound was faint but growing. The music was exquisitely delightful. The wind was coming from the south.

The dragon's eyes burn brightly as if a blue fire burned within.

“No! No!” She covered her ears in desperation. “We must fight it.” She plopped down on the ground, trying to root herself to the spot, centering herself for the coming fury. She clenched her eyes closed. “No, no, no, no, no.”

Amid the growing waves of sound, she felt the dragon's breath sweep over her — panting waves of cold. She opened her eyes to see the dragon standing over her.

“Oh, no.”

Maybe its urge to make her a snack, a last bit of sustenance before the impending frenzy, caused the dragon to break free of its exhaustion and whatever morals a dragon might have. It seemed restrained by a thin tether. In Iduna’s agitated state, working magic was impossible.

She leaped up and began running, dodging between trees, hoping they would provide cover. How does one escape a dragon? She heard its huge mass breaking through the brush behind her.

The forest was opening up to a clearing ahead. With no choice, her only hope her speed, she plowed forward.

She felt a burning chill growing behind her, just as she realized the clearing was actually a cliff.

A roar swept over her from up ahead. Cold flames licked her back. She screamed in pain and hurled over the edge, arms and legs spinning like a slow pinwheel. She fell and fell, the mist rising up to meet her plunging descent.

Her stomach lurched into her chest.

She splashed deep into the pool at the base of the enormous waterfall. Water convulsed and rolled her to and fro. She curled into a ball instinctively and made futile swimming motions when the churning eased. Struggling to get to the surface, Iduna felt the panic growing in her mind.

Sunlight drew her up. Breaking through to air, she gasped and was sucked below again.