The Botanist

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. They arrived shortly after the departure of Kayde Vermilion Jay Wilde Oldanthinan, who was sent to boarding school on account of being too unsociable. If you’re wondering about the name, she was royalty. Twenty fifth Oldanthinan heir to the glass throne. Royalty always have ridiculous names.

If she could’ve kept just two of the names, they probably would’ve been Jay and Wilde. Wild Jay, like blue Jay. Kayde laughed aloud to herself, then looked around in case there was anyone watching. There wasn’t. Kayde was right now, in the middle of a forest, skipping scientific explorations in Botany, taught by Mrs. Talbot and having a lot more to do with the Great Men who had made Great Contributions to the whole of the botanical universe, than the plants themselves. Kayde would’ve considered herself a self-taught individual, if she didn’t actually just assume the plants could teach her everything she ought to know about them.

Kayde reached out to finger the leaf of a Creeping Vermilion Serpentine, one of her namesakes. The plant’s lush green leaves crept down the trunk of a mossy tree, all slick and soaked with rainwater. They trembled as her fingers stroked their gorgeous foliage. She smiled. And then the leaves trembled by themselves.

The thing about the dragons, was that they were very large and they ate the trees.

Kayde stumbled backwards in a panic. She tripped over a thick rope of overgrown ivy, and threw herself down beside an old rotting log.

Kayde could feel each abnormality of the forest, every pulsating heartbeat, every silent breath. For instance, right now all of the birds had gone silent. Kayde felt the soil, checking for a shiver in the earth. Any movement at all would have to indicate that something very large was on its way. There was none.

Kayde would’ve been relieved, but she could hear something breathing.

Kayde held her own breath, and stayed completely, perfectly still. The thing had large heavy paws, and it tread back and forth. There was a pause, as if to allow a creature to lower its enormous head, and then a great sniff. Kayde clutched her fingers behind her neck to keep from trembling. The creature jumped up suddenly, and alighted on the log just above her head. The branch two inches from her nose kissed the ground and bobbed back into the air, swaying beneath the weight of the great beast. And then a wolf jumped out of the forest and pounced on her.

Kayde shrieked and rolled over, and then started laughing. She sat up and hugged the huge white wolf as he danced about, waving his tail. He stretched out his front feet, bowing, and yawned. She shoved him playfully, “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“AwoohAWHOroh.” He replied.

“Yes, all right, hey!”

He licked her face and nearly pushed her over.

Beowulf wasn’t all the way a wolf, but he was enough so it counted. She’d named him such on account of wulf sounding like wolf. No one else had ever found it as amusing as her when she told them, so she considered it an inside joke between the two of them.

Kayde got to her feet, hanging onto the prancing wolf to stand up. She wiped the mud off of her hands and onto her pants. On second thought, she wiped some of it off in his shaggy fur. His coat was dirty beyond consideration anyway. I’ve told you he was a white wolf, but the sickly grayish color of snow after it hasn’t snowed in a week and people have been walking through it, may’ve been more accurate.

Kayde climbed onto the log, and Beowulf followed her in a single bound. The two of them made their way through the woods, leaping over obstacles, wading through brush and creeks, and nearly running into trees on Kayde’s part.

She tumbled down slopes at a breakneck pace with her arms flung out beside her like wings. The forest was like music. The sound of it. Little bits of noise tickled her ears, and the delicate branches of a vine maple tickled her face. She shivered, shrugging her shoulders as she did so. Kayde stretched out her hands, trying to hold the entire symphony between her grasping fingers.

She laughed, and squeaked, and nearly sung, unable to contain whatever was bubbling up inside of her. Kayde shook her head and turned in slow circles, rubbing her face against the leaves of the vine maple and slowly feeling its trunk with her fingers.

A settling, like the beginning of a throat clearing itself startled her. Kayde dropped both her hands and her smile suddenly. She looked at the ground and waited for the throat to speak, but there was no one there.

Kayde peered into the forest. The settling was heavier than she’d first identified. Incredibly low and deep. There was a beast rumbling in the forest, and if they continued this way, presently they were sure to happen upon it.

Kayde looked at the wolf. Beowulf looked back at her, his great alive brown eyes perceiving a challenge, a summoning as it were, and he waved his tail and lolled out his tongue in response. She took this as her answer, and proceeded into the forest.

As she marched ahead, stepping on bracken and pushing wet branches out of the way, she felt life stirring up inside of her. The air smelled like rain and the woods were perfect today. Kayde paused, staring into the uppermost tree branches, obscured by late morning fog. Something about the trees pulled her, and she knew that she would walk forever to find it.

She sucked in a deep breath, shaking her head as the tingling tremor ran down her spine and through her fingertips. And then one of the trees tipped over.

The foggy silhouette of a majestic hemlock on her horizon, tilted and began to plummet. It whooshed through the forest, with a great deal of crackling and cracking, and settled with a crash at the bottom of the forest.

Kayde felt her stomach drop with the hemlock. A pit opened up on the inside of her, and where there had been joy and untouchableness, there was a despicable poisoned sensation of dread. As if she was stuck in a box, or beneath a wide open sky with no edges. Trapped and exposed, observed and alone.

She backed up into the white wolf, who curved around her legs. She dropped a hand, burying her fingers in his thick fur. The other thing about the dragons was this; no one at all had ever seen one.

The rumbling grew closer. Beowulf’s ear’s flicked up and he surveyed the girl’s face. She did not move, she did not speak. Not that this was particularly unusual behavior for Kayde, but this situation did not lend itself to indecisiveness.

There was a creaking sound in addition to the rumbling now, a higher pitched sound interspersed with bits of clanking. Beowulf licked her hand. He whined, low and urgently. The crashing was growing louder.

The beast was characterized by the enormous amounts of destruction left in its wake. It had first shown itself behind a small mining town, but it hadn’t shown itself to the miners. It had appeared behind the town, when all the miners were at work and all their families were at home, and on the farms, and in the fields.

It had woken up in the forest. Dragons love the forest. Unfortunately, dragons have the same sort of love for the forest as fire does for dry wood.

Beowulf took Kayde’s hand between his teeth very gently, but he held it there, looking up at her with eyes that were pleading. She blinked.

“Yes Beowulf,” She murmured, “Wait."

The wolf looked at her, and he sat down.

And they both saw the dragon.

It had a massive head, the size of five full grown oxen. Its neck reached to the tops of the trees. Its jaw was attached on a hinge, and flecked with green moss. And it was entirely made of metal.

There was a thud that ran through the forest, like an earthquake, and Kayde’s legs bent underneath her. Beowulf dove around her, and shoved her in the opposite direction. She fell forwards and caught herself, stumbling into a run.

They sprinted through the woods as the noise grew to a series of deafening crashes behind them. Kayde ran like a forest dweller, diving through the thinnest parts of the underbrush and vaulting over logs without pausing her stride. Beowulf ran like a wolf, loping beside her like a ghost. They reached the crest of the hill and burst out of the woods.

Kayde reached the long grass and raised her knees, swinging her arms to take higher steps. Beowulf lept in bounds, like a bunny rabbit, springing up to get a bearing on his surroundings. He yipped and bounced around her in circles.

Kayde laughed, and then cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled.

“You hear that dragon? We beat you dragon!”

Kayde and the wolf were faster than earthquakes. Faster than the dark and faster than the reflection the setting sun casts onto the slick wet sand as you run. They were faster than dragons.

Kayde threw her hands in the air, and Beowulf bounded into the air, meeting them perfectly with his front paws.

“Yeah!” she shouted.

She shook her hair out wildy.

“Yeah alright!”

A voice startled her. “Ms. Oldanthinan!”

The voice was commanding and headmasterial in nature. Possibly because it did in fact belong to a headmaster.

If Kayde made a friend, she'd resolved to ask them to, “Please call me Kay,” Because that's what characters in books told their friends to do. But Kayde's personality didn’t particularly lend itself to socializing, and unsociability, as she had discovered, was a large hindrance to friend-making. So from now till the foreseeable future, Kayde was Kayde.

“Kayde!”

Kayde paused. She blinked at the women’s shoes. They were leather sandals, and were standing on the stone courtyard directly beyond the long grass. From the barrier to the school’s front doors, were large river stones embedded into concrete. They were cool and pleasant at night, and scalding when the sun shone directly on them, and if the headmaster had her way, her students' feet would never touch anything else.

Kayde approached with her hands behind her back, opened up the gate, and shut it behind her after she had walked through. The headmaster cast a withering glare at Beowulf, who sat down in the long grass.

“Why are you out of class?”

Kayde blinked at the headmaster's formal tunic.

“I got sick,” she relayed.

The headmaster’s cold eyes searched her, like a vulture searching for a soul in a hunk of dead meat before sinking its beak into the flesh.

The headmaster was thinking, ‘you don’t look sick.’

The headmaster was thinking, ‘the last time a student got good and properly sick, we shut down the entire school for three weeks to have it fumigated, and the girls got to go home for a nice vacation, wouldn’t that be nice? A vacation? From all of this? From all of this every day all day.’

She was thinking, ‘you don’t look sick, you aren’t sick.

Sick girls don’t spend all of first class and most of second wandering in the woods like a wild animal.

On second thought, heavens if I know what’s wrong with you. The king sent you here to get better, and what am I going to be able to tell him?

You wander the halls like a ghost, you won’t touch half the food we offer you so the cook’s had to feed you with a special diet of plain chicken, noodles and orange slices, your roommate begged to change rooms because after she unpacked her things, you picked each and every single one of her belongings out of the closet and onto the floor because you needed it for “thinking space”,

then moved everything she owned over to the right side of the room while she was at lunch, and when asked to explain yourself, said that you “prefer the left.”

But there weren't any extra rooms so you offered to move out of your nice luxurious silk sheets because you prefer the solitude of the drafty attic where the wolf who you sneak in at night, can sleep under your bed without anyone noticing.’

The headmaster said, “Sick from what?”

The girl’s eyes looked exhausted for a moment, as if explaining was a gargantuan feat.

The headmaster shook her head.

“Nevermind.”

Kayde looked past her, and then down at her feet.

“Kayde, your father has sent for you.”

Kayde looked up. “What?”

The headmaster cleared her throat.

“I know. I too hoped it would not be, halfway through the school year and therefore thoroughly disruptive to your schooling,”

Kayde scoffed. The headmaster raised her eyebrows.

“It’s ok, I’m not learning anything,” said Kayde.

The headmaster cleared her throat. “Well that’s….troubling to hear.”

Kayde nodded. “Yes, I thought so.”

The headmaster shook her head in utter bewilderment and continued.

“Ms. Oldanthinan, your father is returning….”

“Ok.”

The headmaster blinked, before coming to the realization that the strange girl had assumed she’d finished speaking.

“No, Kayde, your father is returning very soon, possibly today, in fact…”

A booming voice presented itself behind the headmaster.

“Kayde! HOW’s my wil’ jay?”

The voice was attached to a grin. Kayde jumped up and squeaked. The wolf bounded over the gate in swift leap, demonstrating his restraint to the far side had been purely out of politeness.

The voice did not belong to the king. The grinning man had black hair, red robes and brown skin. He smiled with all of his teeth and greeted Kayde with a nod and the wolf with a hug.

The headmaster bowed, placing her hands behind her back and dipping her head, but the man was too busy fussing over Beowulf to notice. He stood up and nodded at Kayde again who jumped up and down fiddling with her hands.

“Calvin!”

He smiled. “Wild jay.”

She shook her head, and squeaked because she wanted to. He nodded at the headmaster.

“We’ll be leaving now.”

“Oh-o-of course of course,” she stuttered. “I-if you don’t mind me asking, Duke Calvin…..why exactly has the king called for her early departure?”

He grinned again. “There be dragons, m’lady.”

He smiled, “And that one?”

“Green piper!” she answered seamlessly.

“Very good,” he murmured.

The leather seats bounced up and down as the carriage wheels rattled beneath them. Kayde sat across from Calvin, hands tucked under her legs, looking intently out the window. Beowulf yawned and rested his great head in her lap.

“Annnd on your left?”

“Creeping…” She knit her brow.

“Creeping periwinkle. Grows only in low sunlight and high humidity. Resistant to change. Cures the common cold.”

Calvin grinned and his eyes sparkled.

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

Kayde smiled and rested her chin on her fist.

“I don’t cure the common cold.”

He tapped the window, “That one?”

Her eyes lit up, “Ghost Hemlock!”

He nodded, “Annnnd,” He turned from the window to face her, “How was boarding school?”

Kayde’s face turned off and she stared out the window.

“Wait, who, who’s this?” Calvin waved a hand indicating the entirety of her form.

“They told me I’d be getting my wild jay back, and what steps into the cab,” he gasped in mock horror. “Is this spoiled little princess?”

She smiled and rolled her eyes, and then kept on rolling them, as if entirely fascinated with the motion. Kayde shrugged,

“I dunno. I didn’t like it.”

He exhaled slowly, watching the green forest unfold beside the windows and around the clear dome that was the top of the carriage.

“I thought as much. Did you learn something at least?”

Kayde studied the treeline. She was thinking about dragons.

“Yes,” she said finally.

“What’s that?” He murmured.

She reached to stroke Beowulf’s head, and his tail thumped on the seat beside her. “No one likes princesses.”

After a cab ride, and then a long journey by train, during most of which Kayde slept, resting her head against the white wolf, she found herself climbing a terribly long spiral staircase.

The stairs were marble and the hand-railing was at least gilded with gold. She drew her fingers up and down the smooth cold surface, and then moved to test how it felt against her cheek.

Calvin nudged her forward and shook his head.

“Not now. You must understand, I tried to stall them but your parents are terribly impatient to see you.”

Kayde took another step forward, and pulled the sleeve of her dress up. She pulled it back down and rubbed her arms together. It was made of green lace and incredibly itchy.

Kayde stared at the bit where the stitched detailing encircled her wrist. The tiny threads cut into her skin like stinging nettles. She could feel herself becoming short of breath as she imagined the sleeves of her green monsoon dress eating her arms like acid, and sinking into her flesh to leave deep red rashes. Kayde lifted the sleeve up to her mouth and bit it.

“Kayde!” Calvin admonished sharply.

The sensation of cloth between her teeth was worse than a million monsoon dresses. She dropped her arm with a guilty expression. Calvin shook his head in mock exasperation.

“Five months away and you’ve turned back into a wild creature. Kayde Vermilion, what are we going to do with you?”

She met his eyes solemnly. “I don’t know.”

He grinned “I’m only teasing.”

She nodded. “Will you run Beowulf for me?”

“Of course,” Calvin assured her. “Do you have to ask?”

He glanced from her to the massive walnut double doors that had halted them.

“Now get in there before your parents have me executed for insubordination!”

Kayde looked down at her feet. Calvin grinned. All at once he pulled the doors open and shoved her inside, slamming them behind her.

A hollow thud echoed through that side of the palace. It was mostly empty on account of it being a Sunday, and most of the servants were off duty. Kayde found herself thrown into a private audience with her parents very suddenly, which is not the way most people prefer to meet with the rulers, so much less their daughter.

She tripped over the skirt of her monsoon dress, and cursed the rain as she struggled to find a comfortable sitting position. Her parents were seated in two very tall thrones at the back of the room, so she took the floor, beneath their eye levels.

“Well Kayde,” said her father.

“Have you learned to communicate?”

Kayde scrambled to her feet.

“Enunciate dear.” his wife corrected.

Kayde bowed hurriedly, “Sir, and Madam,” she spoke haltingly. “We wish to present to you, the royal ordinances…”

Kayde blinked from one face to the other, and settled on the wall spot beyond their heads.

“Of the kingdom, of the glass throne, of, of…”

“Dear, you’re not looking at us.” Her mother’s voice was strained.

Kayde glanced from one to the other, forgetting her sentences under the pressure to evenly divide eye contact between the two of them. The words got tangled in her throat and Kayde became aware she was no longer speaking.

“Nevermind.” Her father waved a hand, in her direction dismissively.

Kayde left off trying to deliver the speech, and dropped to the floor. She stared at her hands, a lump forming in her throat.

“Percy you knew this was simply too much to put on her shoulders, we’ve discussed-”

“No!” The king responded sharply.

He shook his head.

“Kayde.” He addressed his daughter. “Approximately how soon do you imagine it will be until you can be expected to learn,”

“Percy,” the queen murmured.

Kayde shook her head, still staring at her hands.

“Well there it is then!” he gestured to her broadly. “She’s worse off than before!”

He got down from the throne and paced rubbing his temples.

“I only suggested we send her away in attempt to encourage her to make some informal acquaintances, I had no such impressive expectations upon her,” began the queen.

The king pointed at the silhouette hunched on the floor. “You said that private boarding school was the best thing that could’ve happened to you at fifteen! Look at her!”

The queen’s eyes glinted with tears. “Oh my water lily.”

The king shook his head, “Oh my little wildflower.”

They both got down off of their thrones and went to her, crouching on the ground and kneeling on their splendid robes.

“It’s not your fault,” said the queen. “We shouldn’t have hired all those private tutors when you were young. We should've firmly insisted you go to school and behave sociably and that is on me.”

The first day of school was the worst day of Kayde’s life. She started late for her age, and was promptly withdrawn after biting a teacher when she was attempted to be brought in from recess.

She turned her face off after being forced inside, and spent the rest of the school day sitting in the corner stacking up blocks, despite her instructors best attempts to pursue her to join the rest of the children.

It wasn’t that she intended to be particularly disruptive. Kayde found herself at odds with authority nearly from the beginning, probably because the distinction between suggestion and command was somewhat lost on her.

When she arrived home on that fateful day, she’d been reduced to a puddle of inconsolable tears, and her royal parents had fussed over her and blamed the school and blamed the world and blamed themselves, and then bought her a white wolf pup to make up for the emotional damage.

“My dear,” the queen was stroking Kayde’s hair.

“I don’t want the glass throne,” she said quietly.”

The king’s eyes widened, but the queen put a finger to her lips.

“Well that’s alright, because you can’t look like you want it.”

“Yes of course, you’ve got to want it, and then make yourself appear like you don’t-”

“And then take it anyway,” the queen finished.

Kayde looked confused. “But I don’t want to take it.”

The king and queen glanced at each other worriedly.

“Now that simply won’t do…” began the king. “You see, we can’t have anyone taking the glass throne who isn’t really and determinedly sure that they’ve earned it.”

She frowned, “I haven’t earned it.”

“Oh but you will!” Her mother looked excited.

Kayde continued, “I haven’t ever….ridden on a horse, or slain a dragon, I couldn't even present the royal ordinances-”

“Dragons.” The king interrupted her. “There’ll be lots of opportunity for that now Kayde, don’t you see? The kingdom is all wrong, and we need you to set it right!”

The queen nodded. “The kingdom has problems, and you’re going to be the solution!”

“They’re going to chant your name, when you show them what you can do they’re going to chant your name! And trust me Kayde, the crowd favorite always makes it to the final selection!”

He placed a hand on her head, “The whole kingdom is counting on you Kayde. You are the Oldathian heir, their princess, why they expect you to win! And you’re not going to let them down with your little finger!”

The king looked very happy, as if he’d just said something exciting, and possibly brilliant.

The queen lifted Kayde’s chin with her finger. “This is your future dear.”

Kayde’s heart was thumping. She scrambled backwards suddenly, like a rat caught in a trap. She bolted out the double doors.

The king and queen got up and went as far as the staircase landing. They watched their wild daughter escape the palace with heavy hearts.

“Calvin!” the king roared.

He appeared like a card in a magician’s deck, “yes sir?”

King Perceus pointed at the front gates which hadn’t been closed properly. “The choosing competitions open in two weeks! How am I supposed to make that into that next Oldanthinan ruler?”

Calvin shrugged. “I don’t suppose anyone can make her anything sir.”

The king harrumphed and crossed his arms.

“If you weren’t my brother I’d have you executed.” The queen rested a hand on his shoulder.

Calvin grinned, “I’m not sir.”

“Then what exactly is the point of you?” He shouted.

Calvin never left off grinning,

“Hell if I know sir.”

The king drew a breath to shout something else less cordial, but the duke was already gone.

Kayde made her way down the street where the lights had begun to come on. A great white wolf padded at her side, and the monsoon ran down her cheeks and dripped off of her clothes, much less suitable for the weather than the horrible green dress she had left in a lumpy heap on her bedroom floor.

She observed with interest, a group of presumably teenagers playing some sort of game in the swampy school field as the sun set behind them. They were laughing and shouting and they didn’t care that they were ankle deep in watery mud. One of them noticed her and broke off from the group, jogging towards her.

She stared straight ahead as he approached.

“Hey, nice wolf, you wanna join us?”

He nodded towards the teens, who had paused their game and were standing around watching them. Kayde shook her head.

“Oh c’mon! My team’s short a player, it’ll be fun!”

“I don’t know how to play.” She answered.

“I’ll teach you!” He was smiling.

She looked at the others, caution dissolving into uncertainty.

He sensed her hesitation, “C’mon princess!”

“No.”

Kayde walked past without slowing her stride.

She kept her eyes fixed ahead as they called after her.

“Oh….c’mon!”

“What’s the matter princess?”

“I think we scared her, did we scare you princess?” More laughter erupted behind her.

Kayde had a metal detector in her brain for insincerity. Unfortunately, like real metal detectors, it mostly picked up rusty nails and bottle caps, but occasionally it detected a pot of poisoned gold. That is why she never failed to heed its warning.

The noise grew behind her. Kayde was used to ignoring unwelcome noise. And then someone grabbed her by the hair on the back of her head.

Kayde flung her arms out and scuffed the dirt with her shoes, struggling to keep her balance. The girl that had a handful of her hair, sneered, and spat on the ground beside her.

“You really think you deserve the glass throne?”

Kayde was trying to shake her head. The girl threw her onto the ground and Kayde caught herself with her palms in the mud.

The girl leaned over close to her ear, “You think you deserve to tell all of us what to do?” She stood up, “WELL PROVE IT THEN!”

The other ones were laughing and nodding in agreement. Kayde watched at the mud squishing in between her fingers, breathing. Beowulf growled.

“You can’t even fight me.”

Her tormentor turned around, splaying her hands and arms, trying to look bigger, older. Trying to appear tough and threatening. They all were.

“She can’t even fight me!” loud laughter and whoops choursed an agreement.

Kayde spat on the ground. She got to her feet slowly and wiped her hands off on her tunic. The girl had no plans to release her prey.

She grabbed Kayde by the arm and cuffed her in the ear.

“Jacob!” she yelled. “Jacob c’mere and help me!”

They hadn’t factored in the wolf.

He leapt into the fight like a white shadow in the corner of her eye. There was a shriek. Kayde struggled to prop herself up on her elbows.

“Beowulf NO…!”

He had got Jacob’s hand in his mouth. The other was poised in the air, frozen mid-punch.

Beowulf released a low growl.

“Call off your stupid wolf.” Jacob’s voice was weak and shaky.

Kayde got up, and wiped off her face.

“I’m not planning to compete,” she looked at the ground after briefly meeting his eyes. “So you can stop now. You can all stop it now.”

Kayde turned around and started walking towards the woods. When she was about twenty paces from the group, she raised her hand and snapped her fingers. Beowulf dutifully released his victim and loped to her side.

Jacob wiped the slobber off of his hand and frowned contemplatively in her direction until his friends dragged him back into the game.

As Kayde departed, the joyful whoops and laughter behind her gave way to something else.

A low rumbling had taken hold of the ground beneath her feet. It ran all the way up through her jaw and escaped determined ignorance.

A blood curdling scream arrested her attention like a gunshot.

Kayde clapped her hands over her ears and Beowulf whined. He was facing the other direction so she looked that way too.

“DRAGON!!! DRAGON THERE’S DRAGO-” The voice morphed into a scream.

Far away, across the schoolfield the pack of teenagers ran as if pursued by leagues of demons. On the other side, emerging from the forest, something huge and shuddering thundered from the trees.

The boy who didn’t have enough players on his team, was lying on the ground with his leg at an odd angle underneath him.

And he was screaming and screaming and screaming as a dragon made out of metal and covered in moss lumbered out of the forest to eat him.