Dragons in the Way

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Ducking back behind the boulder, Salk thought about those days, not so long ago, before the dragons came. Before this particular dragon came. Life had been peaceful and food plentiful. A nostalgic smile on his face, Salk recalled his last unhindered trip into the Valley with Rindie, his faithful, furry companion. Absently, Salk reached up and scratched Rindie’s neck and let his mind travel back in time. That last trip had been both successful and, although challenging, it actually bordered on fun, something with which Salk was not intimately familiar.

The morning had started like any other: warm, bright and full of the promise of reward. Salk handled his morning business – no need to attract unwanted attention by smelling like a boy – and then started the lengthy process of rousing Rindie. The dire wolf loved to sleep. Salk dropped to the floor next to the beast, gave her a shake and called her name. Her great chest heaved, sable fur expanding to fill Salk’s field of vision. Salk could see her eyes moving behind her closed lids, but the lids remained closed. As Rindie released the deep breath, her huge sable chest contracting, she lifted one cheek flashing a pearly white canine. The exhalation powered a long, throaty grumble. Salk’s face broke in an evil grin and, his green eyes flashing, he buried his face in the wolf’s neck. And bit. Not a hard bite, because Rindie was, after all, a dire wolf and they could be unpredictably quick to anger and a Rindie bite could potentially be dismembering. But it was part of the Waking Ritual of the Rindie.

Perfectly filling her role in the ritual, Rindie lifted one massive paw and planted her black footpads square in Salk’s mouth. Salk sputtered and knocked the paw away. He grabbed Rindie’s neck and started pulling.

“Come. On. You. Monster.” Salk said in between tugs on the wolf’s massive neck. “We. Have. To. Get. Going.”

This was the worst part of the ritual and sometimes it wore out Salk so much that they could not make the trip into the Valley that day. Salk was not one of those “strapping young boys,” as his mother used to call them. Salk was short for his age, pale, thin-limbed and endurance-challenged. He had his mother’s eyes, his father’s black hair, and none of their vigor. But that did not stop him from going into the Valley as often as he could. And it helped that he had Rindie to share the burden.

The great wolf knew the Ritual, and knew when Salk was having a rough day, so she opened one eye and looked at Salk. Then starting with her nose, she rolled slowly onto her back, long legs reaching into the air, and exposed her belly. The Waking Ritual of the Rindie was coming to an end. All that remained was…

In a flash, Salk pounced on Rindie! His small hands rubbed her pink belly, the only part of the wolf that wasn’t covered with fur. Salk could feel the wolf’s muscles moving under the skin as she kicked and flailed with her gangly legs and The Cloud started to form in his mind. The Cloud was a regular visitor and it brought with it the feeling that Salk was Not. Not strong enough. Not smart enough. Not good enough. Not going to live long enough. Salk quickly pushed The Cloud away and sat back, allowing the wolf to rise to her feet. Salk looked at the wolf with admiration of the traits she had that he never would. But there was no jealously. Not ever. Rindie was his friend and guardian and partner in crime until the end of days. And that last pre-dragon visit to the Valley was all about the crime!

So, too, was today’s venture all about the crime. It was just far more difficult after the dragon took up residence in the Valley. Salk sighed. Nothing for it but to do it.

Grabbing one of Rindie’s front legs, the only white one, as an anchor, Salk again leaned out and peeked around the boulder. He could see across the Valley to the chamber tucked into the hill on the other side. The chamber was dark, but Salk didn’t care. He had Rindie’s better eyes and much better nose to rely on. The Valley wasn’t large, but it did require some work to traverse. Having made this run many times before, Salk first planned out the route. He explained it to Rindie, who looked down on him, tilted her head and let her big red tongue hang from the side of her jet black muzzle. Salk took that as Rindie’s expression of understanding. It did not matter either way; he knew she’d follow him through the Valley and beyond, even to the ends of the Earth, if he had only the stamina to venture that far. Across the Valley and back was about Salk’s limit. Even then, he sometimes had to lean on Rindie to get back to the camp.

The plan shared, it was time to look for Her. Salk did not know if She had a name. He really didn’t care. He did not know what type of dragon She was. Again, an irrelevant bit of information, best used by those who would slay dragons. Both Salk and Rindie only cared about the important things. The things that, if they were observant, kept them safe. The signs that, if they allowed themselves to be lax, could bring about a quick end to the venture, if not to their very lives. The pair knew to listen for claws clicking on the rocks in the Valley floor, for the whoosh of wings overhead, for the deafening screech She’d loose if she found Salk and Rindie about.

Salk pulled on Rindie’s white leg, coaxing her forward. Teamwork was essential now. Just one slip could mean…

Rindie took guard as Salk began to search for Her. She could be anywhere in the Valley. Or above it! That’s where Salk usually started his search. He craned his face skyward and began searching the air above for Her. While Salk’s eyes scanned the skies from one end of the Valley to the other, Rindie kept guard. She stood behind Salk, her chest above his head nearly blocking out the sun. They were an accomplished team with many, many successful runs, even a few after the dragon moved in, and they had the assessment process locked in.

The skies clear of any signs of Her, Salk tapped twice on Rindie’s chest, the signal to switch. Now Salk scanned the Valley floor for signs of Her while Rindie kept her eyes on the skies. No sign of Her in the Valley.

“She must be in her lair,” Salk whispered to Rindie, gesturing with a tiny finger to the cave at the north end of the Valley. Rindie licked Salk’s face in understanding. Salk wiped the slobber from his cheek and stood. Even now, he was only as high as the wolf’s head. He checked his supplies: a bit of food and water for them both and a torch – travelling light today – tucked into a sack that would be used to carry back the treasure. Slinging the sack over his shoulders and gesturing with his head for Rindie to follow, Salk started into the Valley.

Later that day, as they approached the chamber, Salk thought about how easy today’s trek had been. No sign of Her. No claw clicks. No wing whooshes. No screeching. If Salk had been a little older, had a little more experience with dragons, he would have realized that a quiet journey was a bad omen. Reaching the chamber Salk peered inside. It was not too dark. The sunlight broke into the chamber just enough to light the way to the altar. Salk would not need the torch today. He whispered a warning in Rindie’s ear and the wolf responded by twitching said ear. Salk figured that meant she understood she was supposed to stand guard at the door today. She did sit, so she must have understood.

Salk entered the chamber slowly, giving his eyes time to grow accustomed to the dim light. As he crept into the chamber depths, he looked around. The chamber was the same as last time, which meant little to Salk. There were huge vats and small cooking pots. There were huge caverns that only could have been used by orcs to cook small children. Unknown things hung from the ceiling. Salk hoped they weren't bats or some other not nice something.

Able to see better now, he walked deeper into the chamber. And there it was, straight ahead of him. He could close his eyes and find his way to the altar at a dead run. He did not, however, because there was no need to be reckless on such a mission and he knew he needed to save some stamina for the return to camp.

His target in sight, Salk moved quickly to the altar, forgetting all caution. The ease of the march to the chamber had made him let down his guard. Standing in front of the altar, Salk looked up and saw the treasure, out of reach of his small body, of course. He could not call Rindie in for help – someone had to keep watch for Her. Salk cast around for something he could stand on. Or maybe several somethings. That altar was pretty high.

He found a crate to the side of the altar. It was open and had no lid, but Salk figured he could turn it on its side and stand on it to reach the treasure. He slid the crate to the front of the altar, a fresh bead of sweat popping up on his skin with each sound of scratch and scrape of the crate on the chamber floor. He turned it on its side and leaned down on it, applying what little pressure he could to test its stability. It seemed good enough. Salk climbed onto the crate and gasped, just a little gasp, when he saw the treasure. It had recently been filled, who knows why. And who cares! All the more for him and Rindie to share back at camp!

Excitement and anticipation coursed through his body, but he was not so overwhelmed that he forgot to check for traps. He peered at the bottom of the vessel holding the treasure, putting his scrunched up face close to the surface. No obvious traps. Cautiously he lifted one end of the vessel. Nothing. No grinding of stone on stone that told of an ogre being released into the chamber. No falling rocks to crush him or poison darts to sting him. “Another good sign”, thought Salk.

He looked around the room again, just to make sure there were no banshees approaching or demons crawling out of the floor. All was clear. Unslinging his pack and propping it open, Salk reached again for the vessel. He gently lifted it and carefully emptied its contents into his sack, then replaced the vessel. Salk looked at today’s booty. It was nothing shiny, no metal or jewels, but it was something far more precious to Salk and Rindie. Salk cinched the sack shut and turned to jump off the crate.

That was more than the crate could abide, however, and it collapsed sideways, spilling Salk onto the ground with an “Oomph!” Rindie heard the crash and snapped her head around, eyes wide, her hanging tongue showing her concern.

“I’m fine,” Salk told the wolf as he rose from the ground and recovered the sack. He moved towards Rindie, whose tail now swept the floor as if to brush away Salk’s embarrassing fall. Salk reached the wolf and opened the sack to show the day’s rewards to her. Rindie sniffed the contents and looked at Salk with a singular question in her eyes. “Not yet,” replied Salk, closing the sack. “As soon as we get back to camp.” Rindie let loose with a little whine, but she knew the return to camp was now the most important task.

Suddenly, Rindie cocked her head and jumped to her feet, a low growl in her throat. She snapped her head around and looked at Salk. Salk, for his part, had detected nothing, but he trusted Rindie with his very life and her alert was enough to instill him with fear and urgency. Salk slung the pack across his shoulders and whispered to Rindie. The pair set off for home.

Together, they approached the chamber entrance and peered outside. Not much time had passed, and the Valley looked the same. Same blue sky overhead, same obstacles to cross in the floor of the Valley. The only change was the clicking that Salk could now hear. The dragon’s claws made a distinctive click on the rocks, first a loud click as She stepped down, then a smaller, softer click as she pushed off the rock with her claws. She was moving slowly, maybe just patrolling, maybe searching for food. Maybe searching for Salk and Rindie.

SNIK-snik……SNIK-snik……SNIK-snik came the ominous sound from the north. It was getting louder. Rindie growled low but remained at Salk’s side.

“It’s ok. We have time,” Salk told the wolf. The pair set off into the Valley.

Then they heard Her screech and both criminals knew She was aware of their presence, or at least aware of some unwelcome disturbance. Plunging into the Valley, the pair jumped across the small stream, landing on the carpeted floor on the other side.

SNIK-snik…SNIK-snik…SNIK-snik. Faster now. Closer. Salk hoped they had not been spotted. Maybe they could lose her in the boulders and make it back to the camp hidden in the other Valley wall.

Salk hurled himself towards the boulders, hip-sliding across a fallen tree and hitting the ground with his feet already at a run.

SNIK-snik…SNIK-snik…SNIK-snik. No change in speed. Maybe She was not closing in. Maybe there was still time. Maybe.

Rindie had chosen to walk around the fallen log, but still managed to beat Salk to the boulders’ feet. She was sitting on her haunches, waiting for him to catch up. In the back of Salk’s mind, he wondered how Rindie always managed to take the ridiculously long way around any obstacle and still beat him to a destination. Must be wolf magic, he thought, as he launched himself from the ground to clamber atop the first boulder. Rindie looked at Salk, cocked her head and ran off to the south as if to run the long way around the boulders too. Salk was going to call her back, but there was no time. Besides, Rindie would use that lousy wolf magic and beat him to the other side anyway.

SNIK-snik…SNIK-snik…SNIK-snik.

Salk turned back to the boulders and threw himself into the next one, scaling it as quickly as he could. He could feel the climb sapping his strength, draining his tiny reserves of stamina, but the alternative – getting caught by Her – was worse.

There was an ear-shattering shriek followed by SNIK-snik-SNIK-snik-SNIK-snik. He had been spotted. The dragon was coming right for him.

Reaching the top of the boulders, Salk looked at the sheer drop he now had to descend. There was no time. Salk quickly guessed that the drop was more than twice his height. He thought about jumping from the top of the boulder. The grass below would be soft enough to prevent any serious injury. It had to be. The hero can’t be caught like this.

SNIK-snik-SNIK-snik-SNIK-snik.

His eyes caught sight of Rindie, sitting on her haunches again, waiting for him to come down. Salk rolled his eyes. He’d have to talk to Rindie about unnecessary risks. And about showing off.

SNIK-snik-SNIK-snik-SNIK-snik.

Salk steeled himself and stepped off the edge of the boulder. Rindie saw his body falling, sprung to her feet and ran to where she knew he’d hit the ground. And hit the ground Salk did. Hard. Stupid not-soft grass.

Salk’s perfect one-point landing – on his backside – shook him up pretty bad. Rindie came to him with a whimper and nuzzled his cheek. Not one of those soft nuzzles the she gave when they were in camp settling down for the night. Nope. This was a “get your dumb butt up” nuzzle, firm and insistent.

SNIK-snik-SNIK-snik-SNIK-snik.

But Salk couldn’t get up. Hitting the ground had sapped him of every ounce of stamina. He tried to explain to Rindie, but no words came. Rindie understood. The pair had been in this spot before. She lowered herself to the ground and let Salk climb onto her back. Lying across the length of Rindie’s sable-furred back, Salk grabbed two handfuls of fur and braced himself for the last run back to camp.

Another shriek, far too close.

SNIKsnikSNIKsnikSNIKsnik.

Rindie bounded forward, hurtling at full speed to the crevasse that led to their camp.

SNIKsnikSNIKsnikSNIKsnik.

Rindie run under a fallen log SNIKsnikSNIKsnikSNIKsnik and dodged around some small rocks SNIKsnikSNIKsnikSNIKsnik and somehow found the wolf magic to put on a burst of speed. Salk heard a whoosh and felt the dragon’s claws just miss snatching his leg. He put his head down and focused on giving Rindie whatever energy he could share through their hand-fur connections.

SNIKsnikSNIKsnikSNIKsnik.

The opening in the Valley wall loomed ahead. Rindie was a blur as she streaked across the remaining span. All Salk could do was cling to the wolf’s back and make himself an even tinier target than he already was.

SNIKsnikSNIKsnikSNIKsnik.

With a howl of triumph, Rindie plunged through the crack and into their camp. The camp was dimly lit by the setting sun. Salk had not left a fire burning; no reason for unnecessary risk. He did not want their stuff to burn up. And the dragon could see the light.

Panting from flight, Rindie lowered herself to the ground and let Salk slide off her back. Both bodies stayed where they hit the ground. Both were worn out by Her pursuit. Salk squirmed and rolled and eventually made it upright, sitting cross-legged near the edge of the camp. He unslung the pack to look at the booty that nearly cost them everything.

The treasure made everything else that happened fall away. He and Rindie looked into the sack and plunged in, she with her muzzle and he with his hands. There was nothing quite like that taste. The biscuit itself was a little sweet, but the stuff inside it, now that was pure heaven. Dark brown chunks freckled the biscuits. The chunks were creamy and sweet and delightful. These were a rare treat for Salk and Rindie as they hardly ever appeared in the treasure vessel since the dragon moved in. Salk thought about the dragon and shivered. It was very nearly over for the two of them today. But the fear and the relief made the biscuits taste even better. He and Rindie dug into the sack for some more.

Suddenly, as if the sky were ripped away, light flooded the camp. Salk blinked and looked around. There, at the entrance to the camp, was the dragon. It was huge! Salk had no idea how tall it stood. It was white, with scales of different material covering its legs and its body. There was even a white crown of sorts on its head. Salk was terrified. Ever his protector, Rindie stepped across Salk’s body between him and the dragon.

The dragon shrieked again. “What are you doing out of bed, young man?”

Salk couldn’t answer. He did not need to answer. The answer was spilling out of his sack. And his hands. And Rindie’s mouth.

The dragon moved towards the duo, SNIK-snik-SNIK-snik-SNIK-snik, her white shoes clicking on the polished hospital room floor, the scales of her nurses uniform rustling as she bent over to pick up Salk. Rindie knew they were beaten, and she went limp in Salk’s arms, using wolf magic to make herself small and squishy. The dragon-nurse put Salk back in bed and covered his legs with a blanket. One by one, the dragon-nurse reconnected the wires and tubes that kept Salk alive. Giving Salk the stink-eye, She unsilenced the alarms on the machines surrounding Salk’s bed. Worst of all, She took away the chocolate chip cookies!

The dragon-nurse shot Salk another stink-eye, then smiled and ruffled his hair. “I’ll be back soon with a proper breakfast,” she threatened.

As the SNIK-snik…SNIK-snik…SNIK-snik receded, Salk looked at Rindie, who had used her wolf magic to become real dire wolf size again. Salk wasn’t angry that Rindie went all stuffed doggie on him. He knew she would never really leave him if he was in trouble.

SNIK-snik……SNIK-snik……SNIK-snik.

Anchoring himself to one of Rindie’s front paws, the only white one, Salk leaned out of bed and vowed to the dragon’s back, “One day, dragon. One day, Rindie and I will get out of this Valley.” He rolled back into the bed and Rindie dropped down next to him. She took up most of the bed, as dire wolves tend to do. Together they lay in the bright sunlight remembering the taste of stolen cookies and planning the next day’s adventure.