The Tales of Menel Fenn

By KD Nielson

This collection of stories tells of the lives and loves, the heartbreak and trials of the men and women of Menel Fenn (Heaven’s Threshold). Each story is a stand alone adventure dealing with races and creatures from the very breadths and depth of the continent. From the noble elf, the proud dwarf and the mystic djinn, to their ancient enemies, the Chaos armies, which are seen in all their glory.

Meet the mystic Thesations and the ancient Sticks, fly in the greatest marvel of the time and witness the death of a city as it is swallowed in a volcanic cataclysm. Brave a mile wide whirlpool with intrepid adventurers seeking to return a dying woman to her home and save the Grey Elf nation, earning the thanks of the beautiful queen.

Take a step into adventure and romance, and you may not want to return.

• Language: English
• Publisher: KD Nielson
• Release date: May 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310666735

KD Nielson

Fantasy Writer Hi all, this is K.D. Nielson ... and welcome to my .... mind. I am a full time writer in search of a publisher, so I have to work at my day job to pay the bills. I have been writing and telling stories now for over 30 years. Since the 11,000+ earthquakes here in Christchurch, I have been free to indulge in my greatest passion, telling stories, while the city starts to get back on its feet. I have drawn on my experiences these past months (seems like years) of awful earthquakes, the years serving as a prison officer, and my time in the US Navy as part of Operation Deep Freeze, making seven deployments to Antarctica. Yes, in spite of everything, I am still sane. I have drawn on my daily experiences in these jobs and the different facets of everyday life, as material for my books. I have a wealth of intrigue, love, betrayal, war and heroic deeds just waiting for an avid reader. I have finished several books in the world I have created. They are just waiting to be discovered by that right someone, hopefully a publisher. All my books are available on Amazon through Kindle, and Createspace's print on demand. I am married to a lovely English girl, a schoolteacher, and we have three sons, one which seems to keep coming back, kind of cramps my style. My wife has donated (sometimes gang pressed might be more like it) hours of her valuable time helping me with editing and reading manuscripts, and being very patient with all my questions, some of them might be, well ... dumb. I have also been working with a like-minded friend who is a fantasy fan and a very good writer in her own right. She is also a renowned artist and in conjunction with another project connected to my books, she is working on sketches of the characters and creatures of my world. For more information on my books go to http://www.theworldsofkdnielson.com Thank you for bearing with me while I rabbit on ... I challenge you, step into my mind ....you might like it so much ... you may not want to leave. KD Nielson

Book preview

By K. D. Nielson

* * *

CONTENTS

Prologue

The Cave

DARCY

SETTLING IN

Crea Gas

INSIGHT

THE ETERNAL SPRINGS

THE DRAGON CITY

THE CATACOMBS

The Cave …

PERMISSION

THE TALK

REVELATION

FINBAR

TO MARRY FOR LOVE

BIRTHDAY

THE FIRST LESSON

THE FLIGHT

DEAD DRACONS

REVENGE

The Cave Revisited

THE MIGRATION

PRELUDE

The Final Straw

THE HUNTRESS

CONFRONTATION

The Raiders

FULL CIRCLE

REUNION

EPILOGUE

* * *

Prologue

The late summer storm was the worst one that anyone could remember in over twenty years. Ships of every culture and nation and description were wrecked; some to vanish utterly, their passengers and crew were never seen again. Fishing fleets were decimated; villages disappeared, swept into the wild stormy seas. The Northlander’s raiding fleet was caught in the tempest. Frenzied ocean waves brought the hungry denizens from the depths as the possessed waves brought tragedy. In the torment that followed, feeding was good. Towering waves crashed onto the shoreline. Devastation ranged from the tip of the Scorpion Island in the far north, to the Land Bridge leading to the Kingdom of Jasper in the south. On the island of Osey, the trees on its plains and forest were thrashed into a frenzied dance as the torrential rains and screaming winds brutalized the island. Some of the younger, greener trees were torn asunder. Their splintered and broken remains littered the landscape.

After two days of death and destruction, the sky, still showed signs of its previous tumult. Green and gold light filtered down in an effort to let the sun through to the ravaged earth. Two men were picking their way carefully along the rocky coastline. The sea still swamped everything that moved along the battered, devastated coastline. They moved warily in the rain, for to get too near to the threatening waves would find them sucked out to sea and lost, or smashed against the jagged rocks. They also knew if any debris was to be found, it would have to be now. Any later and the hungry waves would drag the wreckage back out to be forever entombed in the abyss.

The older man carried a canvas bag over his shoulder. He was tall and broad-shouldered, a big man of the sea. His thick, black unruly hair whipped about in the wind. He wore a leather tunic and woolen pants. The hard boots came to his knees. His piercing blue eyes, etched with crow’s feet, took in every detail.

The younger version of the man poked through a shattered and wrecked wooden hull. Only fourteen years old, he stood close to six foot. He could work the rigging on the fishing vessel as good as any adult. Like his father, the son had the brightest blue eyes, which twinkled in constant mirth. He picked up some debris and looked at it critically, then threw them back into the surging water. He was about to move on, when something in the next breaking roller caught his attention. He peered intently for a minute; he could see what looked to be a body clinging to wreckage. He threw down his burlap sack, and hastily dropped to the wet sand, furiously pulling off his boots. Jumping to his feet, he charged into the sea, taking great bounding leaps. His father, seeing his son moving, raced around to where he had left his gear.

What is it Jeremiah? he shouted between cupped hands.

His son’s reply was lost in the howling wind. The sea was already surging rapidly past the father’s worn scuffed boots. The large man could see Jeremiah struggling with something in the heavy swell. A large rogue wave broke, smashing down on one side of the debris, forcing up the splintered side of the wreckage. The boy hung on to it and the limp bedraggled body for dear life. The flotsam rode the swell of the threatening wave, hovering momentarily and then flipping, dumping them into the freezing surf. Jeremiah instantly thrashed to the surface, coughing and spitting salt water. Immediately he dived under the heaving surf and seconds later reappeared holding the body. In an instant, the father tossed his sack aside and plunged into the swell in a haphazard, comical fashion, making his way to his son. A big wave caught the boy and overbalanced him; the youth fell. The big man grabbed his son by the scruff of his shirt, hauling him to his feet and grabbed a flopping arm of the body rolling, limp in the surf; a girl by the amount of hair spilling out around her. With little effort he dragged them both to the relative safety of the beach.

The boy lay gasping for breath, seconds later he vomited seawater coughing and spluttering. His father had the girl on her stomach, working her shoulders up and down. Nearly a full minute went by in which the boy began to despair that she had drowned, when she coughed violently, heaving and vomiting on the sand. At the first sign of life, the man turned her on her back and held her shoulders as she was sick all down her clothing. The raging sea smashed over the three of them; the retreating swell dragging at their frozen numb bodies.

It’s time to go! Grab our gear! I’ll bring the girl!

He had to lean over next to his son before his bellowed instructions could be heard. The boy nodded his understanding and staggered to his feet; he quickly found his boots and the sacks. The father picked up the girl, and leading the way, quickly left the turbulent, sucking sea behind them.

The journey to the cabin stretched interminably. The cabin was only a quarter mile away, normally the walk was covered in minutes however, this night was anything but normal. The boy clutched his arms about his torso, the howling wind tearing at him bringing tears to his eyes. The wet clinging clothing was freezing, and his teeth chattered violently. It got so bad he picked up a small stick, and put it between his teeth fearing they would shatter. Even his father, a giant among the fisherman of the village, was struggling with the fierce wind as it dragged at his encumbered body. Jeremiah felt like crying when the lights of the cabin came into sight.

The boy dug deep, using his last reserves as he hurried past his struggling father and opened the sturdy wooden door. His father almost fell inside as the boy slammed it closed. Instantly the quiet assaulted their senses. His numbed mind gradually understood they were no longer under attack by the elements.

Get your gear off boy, before you catch your death.

He had already put the girl in the boy’s bed that lined the wall. Without any thought for her modesty, he quickly stripped her and tucked her under the warm feather down quilt. He quickly stoked up the fire and soon had it burning brightly.

Jeremiah couldn’t help but stare at the unconscious girl. He had never really seen a girl with no clothes on close up before. He had seen his mother in the lake bathing once, but he had been so embarrassed he didn’t want to remember anything. She had died a year ago. A tear welled up at his mother’s memory, but he quickly fought it back. Sometimes, when his father was not there, he would cry by himself.

Jeremiah, shake yourself, boy. Get some warm clothes on and then get some broth.

The man knew they would be wet and cold when they returned, so he had a big pot of thick broth simmering while they were gone.

Father, will she be alright? his eyes lingered on the unconscious girl’s face.

His father thought about the adolescent body he had hastily undressed. She was close to Jeremiah’s age. She had good muscle development and her body wasn't malnourished. Her clothing, while a simple leather tunic and breeches, were well sewn. He’d bet a year’s catch, the girl was from a wealthy family.

I can’t see any reason why not. You did a brave thing tonight, son. You could have easily been swept out to sea.

The storm returned with renewed vengeance and hammered the island nation throughout the rest of the day and into the night.

* * *

The Cave

The frenzied, monstrous storm beat at the helpless, rain sodden county side, the hurricane strength winds tore at everything. The trees and shrubs swayed, fighting to stay entrenched in the saturated soil. Every now and then, one would give up the struggle and would be torn violently from the ground, roots and all. Inside the cave a feeble fire flickered miserably, sometime going almost completely out as the howling wind drove tiny whirlwinds before it to explore the dank and dark cave. In one corner a young woman huddled with the blanket pulled up over her head, leaving her lower half to the mercy of the elements that managed to sneak inside. She moaned in her sleep and cried out, thrashing against unseen terror. Suddenly she lunged upright, narrowly missing the cave roof, her eyes wide … unseeing, her breasts heaving as her starved lungs fought for air for her next scream. Gradually reality prevailed and sanity crept back into her hazel eyes. Abruptly a deafening thunderclap sounded, reverberating back and forth sending the woman scurrying for her blanket which she yanked up over her shoulders and covered her head, shroud like. The woman whimpered, she hated these storms, and especially this devastating fiend that killed without mercy, taking ships and building, sailors and farmers, rich and poor, everyone and everything was equal in the eyes of this killer.

Darcy hunched each time the thunder peeled; she desperately fought to pull her rampant emotion under control. She had been afraid of the thunder ever since she had been pulled from the sea when she was thirteen ... she was now twenty eight … for god’s sake, fifteen years ago. She gritted her teeth as another reverberation echoed around the rocky outcrop and lightning actually struck near her cave, lighting up the whole valley, making her pull back as the cave entrance briefly lit up. She suddenly spotted her backpack and lunged for it and dived back under the safety of the blanket before the next assault on her frazzled nerves could begin. Slowly with infinite patience she pulled a thick leather bound book from the bag and hugged it to her breast. Tears quickly formed. She didn’t even know if her husband, the man who gave her the book, was alive. Raiders from a renegade dracon had finally found their little home and savagely attacked. Her husband lay in the mud, an arrow in him while the other men dragged the screaming children off to safety. Darcy had seen her seven year old son disappearing as she turned desperately as her mother Remi screamed, Darcy raised her bow to shoot. Already the riders were dragging Remi down, capturing her swiftly in a net before her mother even had a chance to defend herself. Darcy had rushed to her defense and soon she too lay trusted up in the back of a wagon. Thinking of her adopted mother made her eye’s tear again. The beautiful dracon woman was Darcy’s adopted mother as she had never regained that part of her memory from when she was first rescued. Thunder rolled and the she cringed, gritting her teeth and suddenly Darcy remembered Jeremiah sweet words.

This is for my loving wife, every time you are afraid take it and write your fears away.

That alone had startled her; she never even knew she could write until that day. Others in their little group suspected she might have been of noble birth; it was rare for a peasant girl to be able to read and write. Once the quill was in her hand, the magic invaded her fingers and every incredible digit seemed to know what to do.

Darcy quickly stoked up the fire and threw more pieces of wood she had found already inside the cave. Soon the happily dancing flame compensated for the fear outside. Darcy’s quivering fingers found the ink bottle and carefully pulled out the cork; she dipped the quill inside and began to write.

"My name is Darcy, I am unable to remember my name or where I live. I have no knowledge of my former life and now I call this place home. The people I love the most are here, my adopted mother, father and my husband and my beautiful son Aaron.

Terin, Jeremiah’s father did all he could to help find my family, my former life and where I come from. Months would pass before he finally gave up, as no word from the capital, any fishing village or the ships that passed, could shed a clue on who I was. Gradually the importance of a past I couldn't remember began to fade as the struggle of routine day to day living gradually pushed out such luxuries. My memories might be gone, but the urge to know is only temporally buried. I picked today for my special day, as I have no idea what day I should celebrate. Each year my family has remembered, except this year. I fight the anger and despair that threatens to overwhelm me. I want my mother and father back, I want my husband and son back, all of us together with our friends where we can all celebrate because … today is my birthday."

* * *

DARCY

She looked about the cabin from the shelter of her bed. Her eyes widened, seeing her clothes hanging on a chair next to her bed. She tried to remember what had happened, but couldn’t latch onto anything. The girl looked about. The cabin was solidly built, mainly from what looked to be mud bricks reinforced with heavy logs. The sturdy shutters on the windows were folded back allowing the sun to get in. The furniture was rustic, but well made. Snuggling back into her quilt and stretching leisurely, she could hear the chirp of birds in the trees and a rhythmic chopping close by. The girl tried hard to recall what had happened, but all she got was a headache. She put her hand to her forehead, rubbing the ache. When she touched a tremendous goose egg, she winced as her probing fingers touched three pieces of thread.

Ow! she gasped, screwing her face up in pain. That wasn't a good idea.

The girl grimaced as nausea surged through her body. When the room stopped spinning and the dizziness passed, she became aware of another pressing need. Quickly pushing back the covers, she reached for her clothes.

Jeremiah swung the axe in a smooth, well-practiced arc. The mid morning sun had already burned off the sea mist. The air was clean and clear. He leaned on the ax handle and gazed at the peaks that provided a beautiful scenic backdrop for the cabin to nestle against. The upper peaks still had snow on them, they would all year round. If the island was further south, his father said, the snow would be gone. He loved the white; the way it crunched under his feet when he walked. The mist that formed from his breathing was fascinating to watch. He straightened and continued chopping; it wouldn’t be long now until the first snowfall. Father and the other fishermen didn’t like winter, as the seas were treacherous, even without the winter storms that howled from the north. The fishing fleet was usually anchored in the sheltered cove on the far side of the island. Jeremiah downed the ax momentarily.

His father, like the other men of the fleet, usually spent most of the winter at the cove. The two months of the flyer migration, the big four-foot long fish with little wings that allowed it to fly a short distance to escape predators, was too good not to risk the rough conditions.

He swung the ax, and the head bit deeply into the wood. This year the girl might be here. He stopped when the log split and fell rocking on the ground. He sat on the chopping stump and pulled a rag from his pocket, wiping his sweating face. He looked at the cabin. There was something about the red haired girl that excited and troubled him at the same time. She was about his own age, maybe closer to twelve or thirteen. She seemed totally different from the other girls in the village. The freckles on her nose were just so, he groped for the right word, cute, that’s right. The freckles were cute. He sat watching the cabin; thinking about her smooth body.

Last night when his father was asleep, he had crept to her side and gently lifted the blanket. Her body looked so perfect, the young breasts just beginning to swell, they looked so inviting. He had actually reached out to touch them when his father snorted in his sleep. Jeremiah was so scared he jumped. His heart hammering, he could feel the blood rush from one part of his body to his head. He frantically jumped back to his makeshift pallet near the fire, cracking his head on something unseen in the faint flickering light cast by the banked fire.

Now as he watched the cabin, he felt shame. His father had always taught him to respect and protect women. He had tried to treat this unknown girl like Maggie from the city. She had let him touch her a couple of times. But then, she let other boys as well. He remembered once out in the hay barn one day with her. She had unlaced her shirt as she sat on her knees; head back and eyes closed, enjoying the feeling as Jeremiah caressed her soft supple skin. Then Brad came in. The older boy had beaten him to a pulp for touching her there. As Jeremiah lay whimpering from the beating, wondering if his nose had been broken, they had done things. She had made a lot of noise, and Jeremiah had been afraid Brad had been hurting her. Jeremiah had raced to her rescue and found Maggie on her hands and knees with Brad kneeling behind her. This time, when Brad was finished with him, his nose was broken, as well as two teeth loosened. After that, he didn’t go to the village a lot and left girls completely alone. When his father had asked about the bruises and the thick split lip, Jeremiah was too embarrassed to say anything.

Jeremiah watched the cabin, imagining being with this girl, doing things like Maggie and Brad had been. Suddenly, the door opened and the red haired girl was standing there. She was dressed in her three quarter woolen pants and leather tunic. Jeremiah jumped to his feet mortified about what he had been thinking, the painful stab in his groin made him look down.

Gods, he wailed and took a step back, and fell unceremoniously over the chopping stump.

He twisted about and leaned on the stump. The girl was twitching from foot to foot peering anxiously around.

It’s behind the cabin, ten feet or so in the trees.

She flashed him a quick thank you smile and dashed around the back. Jeremiah involuntarily looked down at his waist and knew the pressure was gone. He stood and took up the ax; with a mighty yell of mortification he swung again, this time the sharp blade split the log with a single stroke.

The red haired girl sat and waited for the boy to come back. When she had returned, taking care of her urgent need, he was nowhere to be seen. As she looked about the small site, she tried to think back over the last, what? Days, weeks, months? She couldn’t remember much of anything, only small tidbits and flashes of pictures. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t catch a glimpse of anything recognizable; a will-o-wisp that danced just outside her vision. After a time, she decided to go looking for the boy. The girl walked past the chopping stump, and could see the ax laying a short distance from the trees. So she headed out in that direction. Soon the foliage closed in about her. The sun beat down in filtered streams. She stopped and turned her face upward and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth.

Suddenly, she could hear the sound of an animal moving in the underbrush. The girl looked around quickly; she could hear the animal’s heart beating urgently. No, hear wasn’t the right word; she could feel the heart beating madly in panic stricken terror. She uttered a gasp of her own, as an unfamiliar wall of terror threatened to engulf her, the girl actually turned to run. She looked back over her shoulder, her foot snagged on a root, and she fell heavily to the ground. She sobbed and fought for breath, suddenly winded. The foliage rustled and a branch snapped. A huge lizard smashed into the clearing. She screamed.

Jeremiah had fled in humiliation at what he wanted from the girl. He ran for the forest, dropping his ax at the edge. His feet pounded on the uneven ground where he tried to jump a small creek. He slipped on the muddy bank and fell to the sodden ground. Suddenly, he heard the girl scream. Fear lent his legs wings and adrenalin surged through his body. He leapt to his feet, charging off in the direction of her cry. The scream came again and he changed direction. She was returning to the small meadow.

Hold on, I’m coming! he bellowed.

The girl retreated back to the clearing, the reptile hiding behind her. She shrieked again as three men stormed out of the forest.

Ho, missy what do you have there? one asked, his eyes moving from the lizard to the young woman.

The redhead could feel the fear racing though the reptile and instinctively knew it was a youngster.

Move away from the dragon, so we can kill it, another said roughly.

She picked up the ax, and held it out in an intimidating manner. Leave us alone. Her voice broke with fear.

That monster has killed my sheep. I will not leave it! thundered the first man, his eyes blazing with fury.

The men moved warily, for the young woman handled the ax with the ease of one who knew what she was about.

‘I was hungry. I was lost in the storm,’ wailed the voice in her head.

She spun, looking at the beast incredulously. Her eyes widened in disbelief. What did you say?

I said the friggin monster ate one of my bloody sheep! You friggin deaf, lass? Now get out of the way! he growled.

The man moved forward, and the terrified girl instinctively swung. He barely jumped clear. But now the girl showed she wasn't afraid to use the weapon, they advanced carefully. The man in the middle nodded, and jerked his head to the men on each side; with a hurried step they moved sideways. The girl tried to follow all three. Then with a cry, they all rushed.

The girl screamed and swung. The lizard screeched in her mind and in panic, snorted. Jeremiah charged into the clearing. The man in the middle clumsily struck out with a pitchfork. The ax shattered the wooden handle with ease. The man on the side cried out as the small pathetic ball of flame singed his eyebrows and beard. The man on the left went down under the charging boy.

Brad, of all the bloody people. I should have known it would be you! Jeremiah thundered, his eyes flashing in contempt.

As the surprised youth started to babble, Jeremiah hit him hard and fast, and he went down under a flurry of fists. Brad was shocked by the attack, never had Jeremiah stood up to him before. Though he was bigger and stronger, Brad never had a chance. The painful memory of the beating, and the self-imposed humiliation made Jeremiah a sight to behold. It was only a matter of minutes before Brad was squealing like a gutted pig.

Stop! the regal voice cried out.

Mercy, it’s the witch, one cried out in anguish.

Run, for the love of the gods, run, whimpered another.

The three men tripped over each other as they bolted for the forest.

The woman who serenely walked into the clearing was stunning, nothing short of perfection. She was tall, a few inches short of six feet, honey colored silky hair hung to her waist. Her full-length blue dress was of simple design and looked radiant on her striking figure. The gown was deeply cut in a v and had a split from the hem to her waist on the left side leaving nicely toned legs bare when she moved. The clinging silky fabric caressed the woman’s exquisite body and full shapely breasts. Her eyes followed the men as they fled, and then turned to the three in the clearing. Her eyes were the clearest green either of the two had ever seen. Her classic, finely sculptured face looked at the dragon.

Thank you for your help. Her voice was light, with a husky sensuality.

I didn’t really do anything, stammered the red haired girl.

Jeremiah was overwhelmed by the woman sheer presence, I… um…I…

When she smiled her whole face lit up; the boy and the girl melted in her radiance.

You’re sweet. She kissed him on the cheek. Thank you.

He blushed a deep red and his eyes took on a new look, that of a newborn puppy’s; wide-eyed and full of wonder.

She turned to the young girl, I am called Remi. I thank you for your help this day. If you have need, call me.

Thank… thank you. I am called Darcy, I think? she screwed her eyes up with concentration.

Remi’s bewitching smile erupted, again flooding both with a sense of peace and joy.

Darcy is a beautiful name. Then she turned to the dragon, Come, let us go.

Darcy and Jeremiah watched the woman glide from the clearing with graceful elegance, her hand resting on the dragon’s back. They could only stare in awe. Both felt sadly diminished by her leaving.

Suddenly Darcy grinned. ‘Thank you, good lady.’

Jeremiah walked up to the girl. Darcy?

She turned from where she had been watching Remi. What? Oh. I think it’s Darcy. I have heard that name before. I think it’s mine.

The boy stood with her for a minute and watched the forest where the woman and dragon had left.

* * *

SETTLING IN

Darcy and Jeremiah worked hard getting firewood stored for winter. Jeremiah’s father had managed to bring down two deer with his bow. The two youths had helped his father skin and quarter the venison, and then the three of them preserved it on a smoking rack, making jerky out of it.

Darcy thought a lot about what had happened with the dragon. ‘Why could she hear its thoughts and feel the emotions?’ She wanted to talk to Jeremiah or his father, but for some reason she couldn’t fathom, she kept silent. Often when the boy looked at her, she would quickly look away, as if even looking at him he might know that new emotions threatened to overwhelm her. But the two of them did talk of Remi on more than one occasion. From the look on Jeremiah’s face he was infatuated with her. Darcy on the other hand was confused. She felt drawn to the woman; at times the feelings excited her. Darcy was beginning to wonder if she wasn't one of the touched. Jeremiah and his father had talked once of a woman in the city who preferred women to men, his son had exclaimed that she was touched, or crazy, why else would a woman not want a man? That in turn brought on the memory of his fantasy of Darcy. In the end he would retreat in humiliation as his body once again betrayed him.

Jeremiah rose early, and gathering his coat and boots let himself out the cabin. Outside, he sat on a stump and pulled on his boots. He picked up a bag and slung it over his shoulder. He had a series of traps and wanted to check them. He looked at his breath as it hung misty in the morning. The sun was barely over the peaks behind the cabin. He looked at the summit, and noticed the snow lower down. He shivered and buttoned his jacket, glancing at the golden leaves of the trees as he picked up his bow. It was fall and winter would come shortly. In a few days, they would go to Crea Gas, the capital city for the Autumn Festival. It was the last celebration that the people enjoyed before the snows closed most of the passes. It was even rumored the new Crowned Prince of Jasper and his betrothed would be there to visit the Eternal Spring.

Jeremiah whistled a tune as he walked. He wasn't worried about scaring the game away; he had been lucky on the traps, two rabbits and a ferret. He had let the ferret go, as they were practically worthless eating. Now the day was warm. With his jacket slung over his haversack, he was content. He thought a lot about Darcy. He felt his stomach go all funny, and he smiled happily. Then he remembered what she looked like as she lay in bed after they pulled her from the sea. He felt a pain and looked down, ‘Why now of all times?’ This seemed to be happening a lot the last couple days. He just walked on thinking of the rabbit stew he could make.

Darcy tossed and turned in her sleep. She cried out and sat up in bed sputtering and gasping for breath. She heard the lightening crash and hid under the covers. The bedding turned quickly to seawater that smothered her face. She had trouble staying above the water and as the waves crested, she frantically looked for …who? There were faces, and the blurred shape of a boat half seen. The angry sea rose threateningly above her, and then with a thud, she woke. The girl let out a little scream as she woke violently. She was tangled in the bed covers and sitting on the hard floor. Darcy looked about in bewilderment, and then gradually relaxed as she got her bearings. She stood and wiped the sweat-plastered hair from her face; that damn nightmare. This was the third time she had it. She went to the table, and poured water into the basin and splashed her face. ‘What did it mean?’ She leaned on the table for a minute trying to think, but in the end the young woman gave up and went outside. The sun wasn't high in the sky, and she knew it was still early. She looked about; Jeremiah was missing. For a moment she panicked as the dream pushed into her mind, thinking of the water and looking for someone. She forced herself to calm down again; he had gone to check his traps. Darcy went outside and shivered briefly. She had chores to do; anything was preferable at the moment to take her mind off the nightmare.

The sun was well past midday when she finished. Darcy plucked at the tunic she wore. It clung to her like a second skin. She decided to go down to the lake and have a wash. In no time at all, the girl found herself at the small lake. It was nice and secluded, hidden from the main trail. She knelt and washed her face in the cool refreshing liquid. Darcy looked at her reflection in the shimmering water; she couldn’t help but smile. The mirror image smiled back, and her cheeks dimpled. Her auburn hair was plastered to her head. With a sudden impulse she ducked her head under the water and gasped. It looked so inviting, the water sent shivers down her spine as it trickled from her hair. Darcy looked around. She could see no one, so throwing her tunic and breeches on the shore, she waded into the water. She gasped a minute, her breathing coming in rapid gulps. It was colder than it looked, and soon she had goose pimples all over her skin. But the water felt so good after the hot work, with a sigh she sank from view.

* * *

Jeremiah marched through the forest, following the game trail. It was hot and he was tired. He found himself along the upper trail, suddenly he stopped, irritated. That was the long way home, but as he stood there he thought it might not be a bad idea. The trail came out just ahead of the lake. So whistling a new song he picked up speed. A swim before he got around to cooking the rabbits would be nice.

* * *

Darcy found the scrubbing sand in a small depression in the rock. She scooped it up and carefully scrubbed the dirt from her body. It felt so good; it was the first real bath she had since the night of the storm weeks earlier. As she rubbed her breasts, the sand made her nipples tingle, she stopped and lingered a second, enjoying the unknown sensation. Darcy stood there completely confused by the sudden rush of emotions, some totally alien that threatened to swamp her. But hard on the heels of them feeling was the conflicting knowledge that something wasn't right. She struggled to remember just how old she was, for some unknown reason, remembered experiences and strange memories made her seem older than even Jeremiah’s father. These feelings confused her thinking; she was all the more aware of the gaps in her memory. Suddenly, she thought of Jeremiah. She heard a rustle in the bushes and quickly ducked under to wash the sand off.

* * *

Jeremiah came out on the overlook and stopped in amazement. Darcy stood hip deep in the water. He felt his face flush and the flood of blood to his groin. He couldn’t help but look at her young body. She had an hourglass figure, wide hips, nicely rounded, and a tight flat stomach. But what amazed him most of all was her breasts; they weren’t flat like he had seen when she was asleep, small but nicely shaped. Suddenly she turned and seeing him, squealed and covered her chest with her arms. Darcy was mortified, one second thinking of Jeremiah and suddenly he was there. The young man dropped his haversack and with a sob, bolted for the house.

* * *

Darcy walked slowly to the door, she shook her head and paused looking at her hand. It was flesh color and her fingers wiggled when she moved them. The ‘older Darcy’ looked dumfounded; her senses rebelled, she had been expecting to see scaly gold flesh. She moaned slightly. What was happening to her? She didn’t know what to do. The door was partly open; she could hear a sob from inside. That’s right, she started; she was looking for Jeremiah. On one hand she was thrilled Jeremiah had been there, on the other hand, she was indignant he had fled. Suddenly, she paused, what if he found her repulsive. She put her hand to her mouth, her gray eyes widened at the thoughts that mixed incoherently with the other images. Shaking her head to clear her befuddled mind, she slowly walked into the cabin. Jeremiah sat on his pallet rocking himself. His shoulders shook. Darcy stared for a minute and then carefully walked over and knelt. She reached out to touch him, but hesitated. She had to know one way or the other. She gently touched his shoulder.

He turned from her shrugging her hand off. Go away, he sobbed.

She walked sideways on her knees and touched him again, What is it. Am I that ugly you can’t even face me? Her voice quivered with emotion.

Jeremiah turned, knuckled the tears from his red eyes. How could you say that? I have never seen anyone more beautiful in my life.

The girl sighed in relief. But just like her experience outside, another Darcy loomed before her. She gently turned his body to her, and she leaned forward to kiss him. His lips tasted of salt from the hot day, and he tentatively kissed her back. Slowly she took his hand and reached up under her tunic, placing his hand on her breast. She closed her eyes, letting the hunger she had unwittingly caused with the scrubbing sand return, and consume her with a vengeance. She could feel his taloned fingers as they began to move uncertainly. Jeremiah leaned forward and kissed Darcy again. Suddenly he stopped as he felt an explosion of sticky warmth and suddenly his breeches were stained.

Oh gods no, not again. he wailed hysterically.

Jumping to his feet, pulling his hand frantically from under her shirt, he knocked Darcy to the floor. Then Jeremiah bolted from the room, his ‘Nooo’ echoing in her ears.

The cabin was dark when the tall man wearily trudged into the farmyard. He stared at the dark house in confusion. He picked up the chopping ax on his way to the door. He dropped his bag, and carefully opened the door. A drawn out screech made him grimace. His booted feet clunked hollowly on the wooden floor. He raised the ax high, and slowly entered.

Jeremiah? came the tentative question from the dark.

It’s me girl. Where is the boy?

A sob. I'm not sure.

The man set the ax down and carefully lit a candle. He looked around; the girl sat on her bed hugging her knees. There was no sign of his son.

He sat beside her. What is it child?

Foreboding filled him, something had happened. Where was the boy? What happened to Darcy? Suddenly he thought. "Have you been hurt girl?’ he asked tenderly.

She shook her head in the candlelight, and pulled the top of her tunic closed.

Did Jeremiah do something to hurt you? he asked hesitantly.

Oh no, he would never hurt me. He… she trailed off and hugged her knees tighter.

Darcy, you can tell me. I know you have a family somewhere, but until we find them, I want you to know that I consider you my own daughter.

She wavered, and then seeing the man’s look of encouragement, she dived in. Jeremiah saw me in the lake. I was bathing, and he was embarrassed and ran here. I followed and we kissed, and them he jumped up and ran from the room.

The older man had a pretty good idea what had happened. Its okay girl. The boy will be back later. I think he likes you, and other than the girls in the city, which he steers away from, the boy is pretty innocent in the ways of women.

I thought he hated me. She burst into tears and cried as if her heart was breaking.

The Terin reached out and pulled her close. When he thought of all that had happened to her in the last few weeks, he was pretty sure, her heart was breaking. It was only a short time later she had dropped into a deep sleep. Gently, he tucked her into bed.

As Terin turned to leave, Darcy reached out. I’ve been having nightmares. Sometimes I’m in the water, sinking, having trouble breathing. Then the other time, I am falling though the sky heading toward the sea. We hit and then sink into the depths.

He wondered who ‘we’ was.

Often Terin had heard her cry out in the night and her words troubled him. It’s okay Darcy. The last three day have been traumatic for you. In no time at all you will be sleeping at night, in trouble free sleep and your memory will return.

As he stood to leave, he looked one last time at the sleeping girl; maybe it was time to see Remi.

Darcy woke the next morning feeling bad. She had a very sore stomach, bad cramps, and she felt hot. Terin went outside and led the horse from the lean-to behind the cabin, quickly hitched him to a cart and carefully helped the girl inside. Then he climbed up, the cart straining to the left, as he settled on the driving seat. He took up the reins and headed for the town. The trip wasn't long. He was taking her to the healer part time midwife, who doubled sometimes as the animal doctor, in town.

The cart rumbled up to an old dilapidated shack. He jumped down and pounded on the door. A minute later, a middle-aged woman opened the door. She was quite big, round, rather short with sagging matronly bosoms. She smiled widely, showing a few missing teeth.

Ahhh, Terin. She smiled coquettishly.

The older man sighed. Maggie, I would like you to have a look at my niece.

Maggie sidled up to him, trying to walk seductively, or as seductively as a ball with fat legs could.

Maggie had been trying to catch the widower ever since his wife died. Of course, Terin, anything for you ‘my sweet’.

The man sighed and helped Darcy off the horse cart.

* * *

Jeremiah made his way home. It was now close to midday. He had stopped off at the lake to wash out his trousers. He had decided he had to talk to Darcy. If they were going to be together awhile, this ‘problem’ must get sorted. He looked around the cabin then, hurried from the cabin to the lean-to. Jeremiah noticed the fresh cart and horse tracks. Something must have happened to Darcy. He took off, heading to town at a run.

Jeremiah was tired, sweaty and his legs cramping from the headlong dash. He stopped at the edge of town and looked about, bent over holding a stitch in his side. Boethius was a typical city in Osey. A thriving community, it numbered about ten thousand inhabitants. The Marquises’ fortress come manor sat on top of a hill overlooking the city that surrounded it. Boethius sat astride the crossroads of three major highways. The heavy fortified gates channeled the traffic along certain roads. While the area was ‘quaint’ or ‘rustic’ by the standards of the other areas, Boethius was prosperous, and Marquise deLatour was a popular ruler, heedful of his people. Jeremiah got his bearings and raced along the street. He dodged down the dirty lane, ducking around wagons, carts, horses and others afoot. He had to look where he put his feet, leaping across some more of the dodgy looking piles of refuse. He ran past a startled guard into the merchant quarter. He knew that the healer, of which there were a few, had their cottages along the inner wall. He soon spied the old gelding and cart. He stopped, leaning on Major, swaying briefly trying to catch his breath.

His father just exited the cottage, and seeing his son stopped. Boy, there you are. He noticed his son’s state. You okay?

Something happen to Darcy? He gasped.

His father smiled, No she is fine.

Any further words were cut off as Maggie waddled outside, her face contorted with mirth, The girl will be fine.

What is wrong? Terin asked.

Nothing at all, your niece is close to her monthly.

Ohhh, yeah, okay, Terin said indecisively.

Where is her mother? the healer asked.

Dead, she died a year ago, he said quickly.

Jeremiah started to say something, but the tightening fingers on his shoulders kept him quiet.

Maggie sighed. Alright, leave her here for awhile, and I can tell her what is going to happen.

Terin sighed and nodded. Thank you.

Jeremiah said as they walked back to the cart, What was that all about.

His father shook his head. I’ll tell you later.

* * *

Crea Gas

The trio paused crossing the massive arched bridge. Travelers of all kinds, horse, foot, and cart passed them as they stood near the stone edge. Darcy gazed in speechless awe at the city. Jeremiah and Terin had been before, the boy was still impressed by the splendor, the father thought it too ostentatious. The city was built up around an old ancient volcano that had collapsed eons ago. It was constructed in blocked tiers, the lowest one housed the Poor and the Merchant Quarter. The inns and taverns, the whorehouses and trading centers, along with the storage and warehouses were found here. The next level housed the Noble and Rich Quarter, the finer inns and taverns, the classier brothels. The third tier was the city government, the military garrison and the upper tier was the temples, with the citadel sitting atop the partially collapsed crater. Everywhere they looked were spires, towers and arched bridges. Pennants and flags flew from every place a pole could be erected.

It’s beautiful, breathed Darcy dreamily.

It’s supposed to be the oldest city in this land. Legends have it that the ancient gods, a race named Dracons, called it home. It has been added on, rebuilt and torn down many times over the centuries.

Jeremiah looked at his father. What are Dracons? This is the first time I have heard of them.

Oh really? I must tell you about them one day, he said vaguely.

Darcy looked at the man, something about the way he talked, his words, how he said them, sounded as if he knew more. The man looked at the city with a strange yearning in his eyes.

Come, there is a lot to see in the coming days. If we don’t get inside, we will have to stay in the caravan assembly yards.

Terin gave the reins in his hand a flick and Major plodded on. They passed inside the massive city gates, and soon came to a soldier.

Resident, or visitor for the Festival?

Festival, answered the man.

Inns are full; you will need to head for the lower commons.

Terin nodded and turned the gelding to the road that went to the right. Soon they dropped down to where the games, fairs and other events were held. It looked to be one big squatter’s camp, tents, wagons and carts were everywhere. There had been some attempt to keep things ordered, but the further away from the entry to the grounds, the more chaotic it became.

Darcy smiled and giggled as an acrobat came by juggling burning swords. There were performers all around; even some food stalls had been set up. They came to a big wagon with a huge cask in the back, the driver had set up a portable bar. Terin licked his lips. They quickly found a spare place to park the cart. While he unharnessed the gelding, Jeremiah and Darcy gazed in rapt fascination.

The real activities start tomorrow, so if you two want you can look around. The city will be open for the next four days.

Really, we can look around? Darcy did a little dance and clapped her hands in glee.

I want you back here by the bells for evening devotions. I have something I need to do.

Before Terin had even finished talking, the two youngsters were off and running through the crowd. Terin shook his head, he hoped that when this was all over and done with, the two of them were still as carefree. He turned and scratched Major on the nose, and then he turned and headed into the city.

Darcy and Jeremiah were walking through the crowd headed for the market place. Even though they walked together, there was still a reserve between them. There hadn’t been time to sit down, and talk things out. But in this case, it didn’t matter. They were two lighthearted young people, out to have a good time in the biggest festival of the year.

Terin walked quickly into the deeper, seedier section of the Poor Quarter. He made no effort to hide his movements. As he turned a corner, he stopped as a small flying lizard appeared in front of him. The little gold creature hovered in midair.

Imogin, where have you kept yourself? Terin asked, his bearded face smiling in genuine pleasure.

Tighearnach, I have been here, I have been with Remi and Sam. I have not seen you since the last Festival.

I prefer Terin.

Imogin rolled her green eyes and her gold scales shimmered, Why do you and the other prefer to use these silly human names?

The time of our kin is past; we have been released of our sacred task. We are now free to do as we will.

Imogin settled on his broad shoulder and nuzzled his ear.

Stop that, he pretended to growl.

Terin opened the door, and headed off down the long corridor. It soon opened out into a massive warehouse. At first glance, Terin estimated there must be twenty figures, and as he watched, he could see a dozen of the tiny dragons swooping about, chasing each other, darting about the larger humans.

Look at them. It’s no wonder that our kin have never achieved anything more than that of mere messengers. Imogin rolled her eyes, her scales turning a reddish color.

Terin laughed. You were always too serious. I thought you should have been born one of the guardian kin.

The little gold nuzzled his neck and gave him a little nip. Terin smiled and stroked the tiny serpentine neck. Soon the others noticed the newcomer and for the next hour there was much backslapping and catching up. Everyone lost any sense of time and before anyone realized how late it had become, a small bell sounded. The murmuring stopped and the crowd moved closer to a raised platform. The fairy dragons returned to the rafters, all except Imogin, who stayed with Terin.

On the platform were three people, two women and one man. The crowd gasped seeing the older woman. She stepped forward and stood quietly. The woman was tall, with an exquisite figure, a tight clinging wispy yellow gown, and long golden honey colored hair. She was easily the most beautiful woman there.

Greetings. I bring you tidings of welcome. My daughter and my husband stand with me today.

There were a few worried expressions. It wasn't often that the royal couple left the island.

It is time for all Dracons to leave, and journey to our new home. Our time here is over. It is time for us to leave this realm.

The announcement was greeted with stunned silence. It had been three hundred years since the Master had released them of their vow. The time of the Dracons as the ancient gods was over. The majority of the kin had already left to return to the island.

Majesty, what of Bronagh? The murderer of my mate is still to be found, Terin spoke from the back.

I see you, Brother Terin. There has been no clue to the death of your silver mate.

So, we forget her. Leave, as if she never existed.

The Queen stood silently, her lovely face sad.

I see you stand with your mate, Terin said gravely.

She nodded. Everyone present knew what he meant. Dracons mated for life. If one died, the survivor would never take another.

I am so sorry that we have not found the dark force behind her death, or the death of Cathaoir.

There was an outcry at this. While the murder of the silver had been known, the blue’s death had not.

The Queen let the outrage continue then, she raised her hand. Cathaoir and Bronagh are but two of four that have been murdered since the last festival. They all have been either here in Osey, or around the lands of Jasper.

Now the outrage reached fever point. The skittery fairy dragons disappeared and reappeared at random. Their keening and the changing of the scale tones were rapid and vivid. The Queen tried for quiet for a few minutes.

Quiet, now! bellowed her mate.

The noise was cut off abruptly.

That is the reason that we have decided to give up our ancestral home. There is no way we can determine who is responsible. We feel it is safer to leave.

What of Sam and me? called a woman from the back.

I see you, Sister Remi. You will continue with the betrothal. The ceremony will be done at the island.

Remi nodded, but she looked unconvinced.

An old man with a full bushy beard wearing a baggy hat, worn and tattered breeches held up with by a rope tied around the waist, and a torn tunic, stepped forward. Majesty, I must regretfully decline.

Sam! Remi called shocked.

The scruffy man went to her, and took both shoulders in his hands said, I cannot at the moment. The woman I have protected is still vulnerable. I must stay to protect her, or forces that are now gaining strength in the west will destroy everything.

Sam, they are not our problem anymore. We have been released. The new guardians can protect her, she said imploring, her hazel eyes searching his.

Remi, I promised.

The woman made to say something, but then she looked long and hard at Sam. She nodded.

Then I too will stay.

I will stay till the killer of my mate is found, Terin said.

The Queen nodded. I expected nothing else. Then she turned to the others. If any of you wish to stay, I will not object.

Majesty, my brood and I wish to remain.

The crowd looked shocked as Imogin, stretched herself to her full height on Terin’s shoulder, so she could be seen and heard.

The Queen smiled. I would have expected nothing less of you from the reports I have heard. Now, for the ones that are staying, I will ask our Master, the One True God to protect you.

The assembled crowd, briefly bowed their heads, and then, in a chorus said, Amen.

* * *

INSIGHT

The cool evening wind picked its way among the overly warm inhabitants in the sweltering camp on the lower commons. It had been a scorcher of a day. However, it wasn't uncommon for the Festival to be so hot. The sun had almost set, but the noise from the city continued. The bonfire burned fiercely, embers floating upon the wind to swirl and leave little trails as they floated about. The games and the eating and drinking stalls were closed. Even the ones in the city had to replenish for the next day. Jeremiah sat watching the puffs of burning cinders float lazy away. He was sitting among hundreds of people, but at this moment he felt completely alone.

He thought about Darcy and what had happened between them, before leaving for the Festival. He thought of how she had kissed him, how tender and sweet her lips were. He could remember the fantastic feeling as she took his hand. His pounding heart soared and his mouth dried like cotton as she put his hand on her breast under her shirt, and then the humiliation burst upon him every time when he thought of the accident. He buried his face in the crook of his arm, propped up on his bent knees.

He more sensed someone standing next to him, than heard them approach. A gentle pressure could be felt on his shoulder and the smell of lilacs wafted gently to him. He knew without looking, Darcy stood next to him. He could hear the crunch of gravel as she stepped closer and sat. She slipped her hands through his arm and leaned on his shoulder. Darcy sat beside him a long time and never said a word. Jeremiah could feel her hair as it blew against his face. She reached up and tried to tuck the elusive wisp back behind her ear.

Jer, what is wrong? her voice was low and tender.

She closed her eyes and rubbed her cheek against the young man’s sleeve.

Darcy’s heart pounded painfully in her ears. She longed to know what troubled him. Ever since she had seen him, or a man looking like him by the pool, she was filled with longings that surprised and troubled her. The girl was anxious about a lot of new situations. The words of the healer echoed in her ear, ‘every month this will happen.’ Well if that’s what growing up meant, she wanted no part of it. Then she remembered how she felt the day at the lake. A tear welled up in her eyes and spilled over her cheek, running onto her sleeve.

I don’t know what is happening, but things are not the same anymore. Sometimes I’m not even sure that I am indeed me. I see another woman; different people, and I remember a different time. I remember a life, with you, but not you. Darcy buried her face in her hands. I am so confused a lot of the time now. Please Jer, be patient with me, I can sort things out. I promise you. Darcy’s voice broke.

Jeremiah shifted around and could see Darcy sitting with her head sagging to her chest. He could only stare for a second, thinking once more of her with no clothes. Again, he felt the blood rush to his groin. ‘Gods, it was happening again.’ Jeremiah didn’t know whether to run, or risk another accident. Then Darcy’s shoulders started to shake, her slender frame wracked with sobs as she began to cry. Instantly all the mortification he felt disappeared.

He bent over and gently hooked back her hair that had fallen over her face. Why are you crying?

She looked at him, her beautiful brown eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. I really want you in my life. But things are happening so fast I don’t know what to do. One minute I have such wanton ideas, and then I get so embarrassed. Her voice dropped to a whisper, I have never known a man. I am not sure what is actually supposed to happen.

He sighed in contentment. I know what you mean. I see you and I imagine what it would be like to do the things I have seen the others in town do. Then my body gets crazy, and I have no control over anything that happens. He lifted her chin up slightly, I have never been with a woman. I have no idea what is going on either. But I really like you, and I want you around too. We have a lot of time to learn together.

For the first time in months, he felt at peace with himself, Darcy’s face lit up too and he knew she was relieved as well. Jeremiah reached out and pulled Darcy to him and they settled back against a wagon wheel. They sat watching the fire burn. Laughing and yahooing people threw more wood on the flames. Darcy and Jeremiah sat in the protective shadows, and held each other tightly.

Darcy leaned against Jeremiah and knew she was safe. Swiftly she thought, ‘Why safe?’ There was no danger. Unexpectedly, she remembered the encounter with Remi and the young dragon. The sensation she experienced ‘talking’ to the dragon was similar to what she was feeling now. Suddenly, she knew that a lot of the emotion, the confusion, and some of the anxiety she felt inside, was from Jeremiah. Panic surged