Chapter 27
Lucas
~
“Ike back yet?” Janding asked.
Asr snorted, sendin’ me into a giggle.
Squinchin’ up his face, the orc looked at me and our ogre friend for a moment, before glarin’ off in that way a rider does when he’s in silent communication with his dragon.
A moment later Janding said, “Neither of us understand the joke.”
That put me and Asr in outright fits of laughter.
My queen lowered her head to face Janding. “That ogre has caused more grief to more people and dragons than can be counted.” Her eyes whirled with her own humor. “He was duped into a callin’, of service to others. Ya cannot see the irony in that?”
Janding turned on me. “It isn’t funny that Ike got blamed for the shenanigans the both of ya pulled. In truth, how often were the ideas solely yars?”
I grinned. “Less often than ya’ll believe.”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t believe ya,” Janding answered.
“Ya still sore after all these years? It isn’t our fault ya were so gullible.”
Janding growled at me. It’s a shame we humans can’t growl like our orc, ogre, and troll friends do.
“Here comes Aedwin,” Asr said. The bull worked pretty good to get the smirk off his face. All of us are gonna get a load of laughs for the work Ike’s gonna be put to, servin’ the communities of the Range, as the Greater Ogre Clan leader. He and Taiz’lin would be doin’ so much flyin’ about, they’d never have time to consider wanderin’ again.
The three of us and all of our dragons turned toward the Inn. The ogre hen ran along the shoveled trail of hard-packed snow that led to the Lake.
“She carryin’ a pack,” Asr said.
“Mmm. Eina’s biscuits, ya think?” I asked.
“All ya two think about is food,” the orc complained. If orcs had a better appetite, wouldn’t be so stinkin’ skinny.
“Obviously Aedwin considered bringin’ food important too,” I said.
Tae, the ogre hen’s dragon flitted down from the Inn’s barn to meet us. I figgered the dragon chose to sleep until the last moment. He likes his sleep, that dragon does. When Aedwin arrived, Asr was quick to relieve her of the canvas bag.
His snout twitched with enthusiasm. “Sausage, bacon, cheese, and yep, biscuits,” he reported.
“Nothin’ escapes that snout,” Aedwin quipped as she climbed Tae. “Didn’t ya eat breakfast?” She turned away, not waitin’ for an answer. “Iza, I understand ya’re fairly clear where we’ll find the doc?”
“The gnome got across to her an image of the closest peak,” I answered for Iza.
“That only means a couple of hundred square miles to search,” Asr complained.
“Always the cynic,” I teased, as I climbed Iza’s shoulder. “Be glad for this beautiful weather. Look at that blue sky.”
“Indeed,” Aedwin said. “Nice the gray skedaddled for a few hours. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
~
Iza was the first to spot the red shirt laid out in the snow, a good sign we found the stake we searched for. Amazin’ the doctor traveled so far from the Hamlet. No wonder we didn’t find him in our early huntin’.
Iza’s brothers circled above while she searched for a place to land. The open fields likely had snow too deep for any of them. If a dragon sank, unable to clear its wings, there was no takin’ off. It could freeze to death stuck in the snow. Iza’s many times larger than her brothers, thus more likely to be able to extricate herself. The bulls would be called in if we required maneuverin’ into the trees.
Iza trumpeted as we neared. The cabin door opened and a human ducked down to exit the low-slung door—built for dwarves. The man waved, but disappeared for a few moments, returnin’ outside with his black case. He walked down a path shoveled through the snow. The top ledge of the embankment loomed much higher than the doctor’s head, and he no doubt tread over several feet of compacted snow.
Iza’s unease with landin’ anywhere near that open space seethed.
Only feet from the cabin the path forked, leadin’ to the snow-smothered barn to the left. To the right, the narrower trail led toward the tree line. I had no doubt to what. By the earth-stained snow of the small circle, clearly the doctor had lost a patient—a tiny one by the looks of it. I felt the vibration of Iza’s remorse.
“I see it,” I answered Iza.
The doctor stood gawkin’ at us crossin’ back and forth. I imagined what he must think about our odd behavior, not immediately comin’ in to land.
“Even if ya find a place to land only fifty feet away, he’ll never see us. Will assume we flew away,” I shared with Iza.
“I can make myself be heard,” she said.
I laughed, and shouted to her, “But will he be able to make it through the snow to get to us?”
Iza flew a wider swath around the homestead. A rocky ridge a mile away promised safe outcroppin’s the wind had mostly cleared of snow, but Adam never would make it to us there. Iza returned to the cabin. The doctor still stood with his hands shoved under his armpits. He stamped his boots into the snow.
I was surprised by Iza’s change of heart. She claimed the snow looked fairly packed, and floated toward the man we were here to pick up. Iza stroked back hard, and reached out for the snow, curlin’ her wings up and out of the way. I knew immediately somethin’ was wrong. We sank much deeper into the snow than I expected. When Iza finally settled with a hard jolt, I slammed into the hard ridges of her back, knockin’ my wind out, face bouncin’ off her hide.
~
Panic overwhelmed me by the sound of Iza trumpetin’, the weight that pressed upon me, and the darkness. In a fuzzy heartbeat I realized I must have blacked out. Pain shot through my mouth, jaw, and chest. Iza writhed, distraught at the missin’ touch of my mind.
“I’m here, Iza, I’m here,” I tried to shout, but my voice sounded odd, as though shut inside a chamber. I realized Iza couldn’t hear me over her own screams. The three brothers had to be flyin’ very close, too, addin’ their shrieks to the din.
“I’m here, Iza, I’m here!”
A hundred thoughts from her streamed into my mind.
“I don’t know where I am. I think I’m against ya, but I’m wedged tight against the snow. I can’t budge.”
“Silence!” Iza’s mental shout ripped across my temples. The command wasn’t directed at me, but it hurt all the same.
I heard another voice shoutin’. Adam. I tried to move again. Didn’t know if it was the numbin’ cold, or the weight of tons of snow holdin’ me tight, but there was no movin’. I struggled to breathe against the ice wall. I must have been bounced right off Iza, landin’ beside her, and got pressed into the heavy snow. Very cold snow. Not that I’d ever met any warm snow.
The minutes passed. Every few minutes a, “We’re comin’,” seeped through the cold.
“Be still, Iza,” I heard. “He may be under ya.”
I hadn’t been to church in years, but I tried to remember the prayers I had learned. My distress mingled with Iza’s as we worried about each other. At first I only worried about her. I would surely be dug out. How deep could I be, after all? But each passin’ minute the spine tinglin’ cold made me more aware of my own danger. Iza keened, and the words of those workin’ to free me were lost to me. The world, even the cold, slipped away.
~
The sudden glare blinded me. I shook my head, tryin’ to clear the cobwebs. I was doubled over, bein’ jostled. My chin bounced against someone’s back, arms dangled toward the snow. Whoever carried me was sinkin’ two feet into the snow with each step. I tried to look up and saw nothin’ but white. We had to be in the dug out path that we’d landed on.
“Let me down,” I squawked.
“Doc! He’s awake.”
I felt myself bein’ thrown forward like a log destined for the fire, thrust off a shoulder. Ogres are not the most gentle creatures. I coughed as I landed on my back, lookin’ into the upside-down face of the doctor. Asr loomed over me too.
“Can you walk, you think? We need to get you inside and warm you up,” the man said.
“Iza?”
“We’re diggin’ her out. Be a while, but we’ll get her out,” Asr shouted between gasps. “Don’t worry none. I promise ya. She’ll be fine.”
“I’ll help,” I said, tryin’ to rise, but my body wouldn’t work.
“Go ahead and carry him inside,” the doctor told Asr.
“Awwghh,” I groaned, as I felt myself bein’ drawn over my giant-friend’s shoulder like a lifeless bag of flour again.
Somehow I found the humor to laugh, as Asr dropped me to the snow again and announced he wasn’t gettin’ inside the dwarves’ home. “Not unless I crawl on my knees and elbows,” the ogre rasped. “He’s yars, Doc. I’ll go back and help with Iza.”
Asr moved out of sight, and I tried to lean forward to watch him go. But all-consumin’ shivers wracked my body that made it even hard to breathe. Muscles cramped. The world spun. The doctor’s face blurred. More blurry faces loomed above me—female dwarves. Through the spasms, I still somehow marveled that I’d never met a female dwarf before. Odd. All these years.
~
My teeth rattled against the mug. The tea nearly scalded, too hot to drink, but the ceramic felt good in my hands, as did the steam on my face. The heat comin’ from the small hearth was woefully lackin’, though.
I should be out there. I moved to stand, and Iza mentally rebuked me.
My muscles ached. Fingertips, nose, and ears burned. I closed my eyes and imagined the two ogres madly throwin’ shovel after shovel of snow far over their heads. Thankfully the trumpetin’ was done. No fear remained, only hard work to widen the chasm so Iza could use her wings.
I closed my eyes and lived the ordeal outside through Iza. The short, skinny orc worked with two even shorter bull dwarves as they carted buckets of snow away, linin’ the path they were stuck in, packin’ it down as they went. The doctor used a spade on the other side of Iza.
“I think just a few more minutes,” she told me.
I sipped at the coolin’, weak tea. It burned my lips then my throat. I worked my fingers. The numbness had receded but each fingertip felt as though they’d been wacked by a spiteful hammer.
I should be out there helpin’.
“Just a few more minutes,” Iza said.
I pulled together all my will and stood, only to plow my head into the dwarves’ low ceilin’. Ouch. Ouch. I doubled over in new pain, spillin’ hot tea over my hand. Two dwarf hens were at my side, pressin’ me to sit down.
“What happened?” Iza screamed in my head.
I told her quickly all was well as I rubbed my growin’ goose egg, glad I didn’t speak Dwarfish, because the two hens were givin’ it to me somethin’ fierce. Dwarves never sound happy on a good day.
I set down the mug and sloughed the blankets hangin’ off my shoulders, held out my palms to the two females. “I’m fine.”
Their heads shook and they rattled on. I looked into the face of the older hen, obviously the matriarch. I thought of the solemn, frozen grave fifty feet away. I didn’t have the right to be intrudin’ in her world. My little discomfort is tolerable. Nothin’ in comparison to what she experienced some time earlier the past weeks.
It was time we all got out of her life. I touched my fingertips to my lips and slowly reached out and touched the hen’s forehead. The two finally stilled and peered back at me, motionless. Tears glistened in the eyes of both. The mother nodded her head and moved aside to let me leave. She collected my gloves and hat dryin’ on the hearth and handed them to me, said somethin’ softly in Dwarfish. I hadn’t a clue what.
I wished to share my condolences, but how? I decided she knew, as she took my hand and walked me to the door.
~
“Okay, slow down,” I told my friends. “Don’t bust a gut. We have a three-ton monster here with a bit of muscle of her own.”
“Monster?” Iza screeched through my temples.
Her brothers, still circlin’ overhead, trumpeted in humor.
“Okay, beast.”
The dragon growled. Not the amused way.
I laughed and slapped her breast lovin’ly. “Let’s do some rockin’ and cave a little of this snow in on ya, pack it down as ya go, so ya can spread out.”
Iza swung her head down and sniffed me, as though to determine if I was sane. I continued to explain what I meant. She didn’t seem eager to cause more snow to come down on her back, but after a little more encouragement, she rammed herself into each side of the embankment, and as I predicted, the top caved in, which she was able to compact beneath her. She continued for several minutes as her standin’ position rose with the tamped down snow, and the space broadened. In mere minutes she was able to spread her wings out. We continued the effort, to ensure the smaller bulls would be able to get out too, after they came down to pick up their riders.
“Ya ready to get out of here?” I asked Adam.
The man smiled, walked over and picked up his satchel.
“I had imagined takin’ ya d’rectly to see yar fiance,” I told Adam, “but if ya don’t mind, I think I’d like an evenin’ at home to warm up.”
The doctor threw his arm around me, his face beamin’. “Enough excitement for one day anyway.” He stepped away for a moment and wished his host of the last weeks a farewell—maybe the bull spoke Standish, while I climbed atop Iza.
“Sure woulda liked to see ya all leapin’ into the snow from yar dragons in flight,” I told Aedwin.
“It was actually kind of fun,” she said.
Janding and Asr didn’t appear as though they agreed. So it wasn’t just an ogre thin’.
The doctor climbed up behind me, and Iza launched, a little stiffly, but safely. She circled while her brothers landed one by one in the trampled snow to retrieve Aedwin, Janding, and Asr.
Adam leaned against me. “How are you feeling?”
“Never been so cold in my life,” I said over my shoulder. “And if fear stiffens yar backbone, I think I may be a better man today than I was yesterday. At least wiser.”
The wind mostly swallowed the Northerner’s soft laugh. Maybe I just imagined the laugh. And his crack about bein’ wiser. A man who’d been stuck in a cabin with a four-foot ceilin’ for a month shouldn’ta been suggestin’ I lacked wisdom.
~
The End
~
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