Check out Peter Last's blog at http://www.peterlast.com/blog/2015/11/30/heroofdragonspartfive/ for Part Five!
Wyatt scratched his chin as he
pivoted in place. “Weird,” he muttered, squinting up at one of the huge walls.
It depicted a pleasantly normal market scene, vendors hawking their wares to
milling townsfolk. “How long ago was this a real town?”
Jim
leaned on his staff and irritably ran a hand through his beard. “Well, if I knew
that, I wouldn’t have called this a quaint normal town, now would I?” he said
somewhat snappishly.
Oblivious
to the sarcasm, Wyatt let the claymore drop from his shoulder to the dirt,
leaning on the oversized sword. “I meant, when was the last time you were here,
and the town was normal?”
The
little dragon, which had gone frolicking ahead of them, now reappeared at a
dead run, careening around the side of one of the huge painted walls. Wyatt
jumped to attention, hefting the claymore. An instant later, he thought better
of it and tossed the unwieldy sword down, exchanging it for his own, more
reasonably sized, sword.
“Look
out, Jim,” Wyatt called. “Something’s got that dragon spooked!”
Jim
didn’t straighten from his staff as the dragon dashed up the street, sending
clouds of dust billowing up behind it. “Better move,” he said mildly. “That
dragon’s gonna run right into you.”
Face
scrunched in concentration while he stared wildly around for whatever had upset
the dragon, Wyatt didn’t hear the old gypsy. The dragon, suddenly realizing it
was moving much too fast toward Wyatt, flung out its wings. There was a loud
snap as the leathery wings caught air, then the little beast’s legs got
tangled, causing the dragon to slide the last few yards and slam into Wyatt.
Man
and beast both went down in jumble of wings, limbs, and sword. As near as Jim
could tell through the obscuring dust clouds, Wyatt and the dragon rolled over
and over before slamming into one of the painted walls, yelling all the while.
With
more loud hollers, Wyatt managed to scramble to his feet, fairly impressive
considering the dragon had wrapped its front legs around his waist and wasn’t
letting go. Using his sword as a cane to hold them both up, Wyatt hauled
himself mostly upright, waving his free hand through the dusty air as he
coughed.
“Do
you see what spooked him?” Wyatt asked, between coughs.
Looking
bored, Jim pointed the end of his staff toward a small green snake that was
lazily gliding down the street.
Wyatt
squinted at the tiny snake, barely able to make it out through the haze of
dust. “THAT is what this thing was afraid of?” he said, outraged. He staggered
a little under the dragon’s weight, since the beast still clung to him, its
scaly legs rasping against his clothing. “What sort of coward are you?” he said
to the dragon, turning his head to stare over his shoulder into its golden
eyes.
“He
is just a baby,” Jim said, a grin
tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Now, could you put down the dragon so that we can try to figure out
where this town went?”
“He’s
way bigger than that little bitty snake!” Wyatt protested. Dropping his sword,
he reached behind his back to grab the dragon’s foreleg. He tried to pry the
little beast’s leg away from his waist, but the dragon made a sudden maneuver
that ended up with it in Wyatt’s arms, cradled like a baby. Wyatt grunted under
the beast’s weight and sat down with a thump. “You’re pathetic,” he said
disgustedly.
The
dragon made a low growling noise, a faint orange light flickering deep in its
throat. It butted its head against Wyatt’s chin and snuggled closer.
Unable
to contain himself, Jim leaned on his staff and laughed until he nearly cried.
Scowling
heavily, Wyatt tried to crawl out from under the dragon. This didn’t work very
well because the little beast kept wrapping its legs, tail, and wings around Wyatt’s
body anytime the young man managed to free himself. “Get off,” he growled at
the dragon, peeling its tail away from his ribs yet again. “What a big scaredy-cat
you are. Yup, that’s what I’ll call you now. Scaredy-Cat. Now, get off!”
With
a final heave, Wyatt managed to scramble free of the dragon’s clinging limbs.
Scooping up his sword as he scuttled past it, he straightened with an attempt
at dignity. “So,” he said, clearing his throat. “This town. When was the last
time you came through here?”
Wiping
tears out of his eyes, Jim spoke through chuckles. “I guess it must have been
about twenty? Thirty years ago?”
“That’s
not…,” Wyatt began, when the dragon pounced to its feet and scrambled toward
him. Using Wyatt’s body as a shield, the dragon peeked around his hip. It
released a low moan, pressing so hard into the young man’s leg that Wyatt
staggered.
“Oh,
for crying out loud!” he hollered. Stomping forward, Wyatt advanced on the
little green snake and struck off its head with one swing of his arm. “There!
Are you happy now?!”
The
dragon put its head to one side and then slowly crawled forward. When at last
it came within reach of the snake, it delicately put out one taloned foot and
poked the snake’s body. It leaped backward, its wings arching up over its back.
When the snake showed no signs of moving, the dragon gazed up at Wyatt with
adoration.
“Yes,
you’re safe now, Scaredy-Cat,” Wyatt said disgustedly. As the little dragon
bounded off to explore, he turned back to Jim once more. “Twenty years ago
doesn’t really give us any new information,” he said, speaking over the old man’s
renewed howls of laughter. “Anything could have happened in that length of
time.”
Making
an effort to control himself, Jim wiped at his eyes again. “Well, then, what do
you think a hero would do about that?”
“Look
for clues?” Wyatt asked, his voice pitching upward in uncertainty.
Jim
raised an eyebrow at him. “You asking or telling.”
Wyatt
cleared his throat and spoke more confidently. “Look for clues.” Shoving his
sword through the loop of twine on his back, he walked over to where he had
dropped the claymore and propped it on his shoulder.
“So…”
Wyatt said uncertainly, glancing around at the painted walls. “I’ll look that
way,” he pointed in one direction and marched off.
Jim
waited, leaning on his staff.
A
few moments later, Wyatt came back. “Um…what would a clue look like?”
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